Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2484410.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      弱虫ペダル_|_Yowamushi_Pedal
  Relationship:
      Arakita_Yasutomo/Shinkai_Hayato
  Character:
      Arakita_Yasutomo, Shinkai_Hayato, Toudou_Jinpachi, Fukutomi_Juichi,
      Izumida_Touichirou, Shinkai_Yuuto, Manami_Sangaku, Kinjou_Shingo
  Series:
      Part 1 of Left_side
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-20 Completed: 2016-07-04 Chapters: 11/11 Words: 31285
****** The Left Side ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Four years to make it happen... with accidents in between.
Notes
     Warning: This work is unbeta-ed & ESL
***** Chapter 1 *****
Shinkai can hear the footsteps that resonate on the concrete floor, easily
recognizable, they always stand out compared to the other club members. But
Arakita is alone and when the door of the locker room opens violently, he
throws his helmet on the table with a gesture as abrupt as the previous one.
There’s a muffled, half-reluctant "Morning" aimed at Shinkai in passing.
Arakita really doesn’t give a shit about the noise. He really doesn’t give a
shit about anything: that’s what half of Hakone Academy thinks, even if it’s
the biggest lie of them all.
Shinkai smiles, he’s almost done tying his shoes and looks over his shoulder,
“Good morning.”
He has known Arakita for a year and a half, this sort of flashy-grumpy entrance
is part of a routine he’s gotten used to, in fact he thinks the bravado is kind
of intriguing in a very foolish way. They don’t share the same closeness as the
one he shares with Fukutomi, but over the past few weeks they’ve spent more
time together than they did during their entire first year. It’s strange how
quickly Shinkai can adjust to his surroundings, even the most changeable.
When he’s finished, he leans nonchalantly against the wall and puts his gloves
on. His teammate hasn’t stop muttering unintelligible words, insults probably.
“Aren’t you in a great mood?” Shinkai teases, because… why not? Arakita is so
easy to get started.
It works. “The hell I am!” The subject of today’s complaint is oh so familiar.
“Two hours! He made us wait two hours at the station because of that weirdo
tree from Chiba… it’s November for fuck sake! Next time I’ll rip his ticket!”
He pauses, “Or toss him on the railway…”
Shinkai nods sympathetically, suspecting that the ordeal may be vastly
exaggerated, Fukutomi didn't even mention it. The second years rode a race near
Kyoto this weekend, Sohoku Team was there too. But Shinkai didn’t participate,
he feels he’s not ready yet. Fukutomi stayed quiet when he declined last week
and Toudou only smiled. But Arakita had pierced him with a stare that told
millions things along the lines of “don’t bullshit us”, although he didn’t say
a word, so unlike him. Now he gesticulates with insistence, convinced that
swearing will grant his complaint some validation. Shinkai thinks it’s idiotic
because even if Arakita’s voice is loud enough to carry throughout the campus,
nobody’s here save them. He blames this endearing behavior on the fact that
it’s Monday morning, 6.03 am to be exact.
At 6.30 this room will be full of freshmen, third years, everyone. Their little
group always starts first and Shinkai really likes the quiet preparation before
the intense effort, so he listens patiently. It’ll end soon. He doesn’t mind
Arakita’s foul mouth or his rough behavior, discarding those things is easy
and, above all, he doesn’t mind because Arakita is fun to have around.
Done. That was surprisingly quick. “Fuku-chan bailed on us, there’s a meeting
with the first year twits,” Arakita says.
“I know, he told me yesterday.”
That earns him a questioning gaze, usually Shinkai goes home every Sunday and
comes back on Monday, but this time he decided to stay in the half deserted
dorm, for once he even brought Usakichi in his room. Mostly he wanted to be
alone, it’s so crowded everywhere. Always. Here, at home, it’s a bit
suffocating on the long term. Much like Arakita’s reaction now, Fukutomi didn’t
comment when he came back yesterday and found him silently studying with
Usakichi napping on his lap, also his roommate certainly didn’t whine about
Toudou.
Arakita zips up his jersey, he wears a black cotton undershirt, no wonder,
mornings are chilly. Shinkai also notices a thin silver chain around his neck,
one he’s never seen before. He notices a lot of useless stuff lately.
“Fine, let’s go.”
Shinkai raises an eyebrow, “What about Jinpachi?”
“I told him to come at 6.20.” An evil sneer follows the statement.
The sprinter shakes his head in disbelief; he’s not sure of what to do, so he
picks up a power bar from his pocket to buy some time. But Arakita grabs an
extra jacket and storms out, glancing back at him in challenge, the guy has
zero remorse. Shinkai being Shinkai he can’t leave without scribbling a note
for Toudou on his locker, he also drew a bunny in the corner, that’s how stupid
he can be.
“Geeeeeez Shinkai! Move yar ass already!”
He chuckles. Stupid or simply relieved to leave dark ideas behind, he’s in a
good mood today.
“Yasutomo, all this tension is bad for your blood pressure.”
 
                                     o-o-o
 
They rarely have the chance to train together, just the two of them. With
Fukutomi Arakita can’t take a break, he always wants to do his best. He’s
focused on the task and that takes a lot of energy out of him. He likes it but
sometimes his body yearns something slightly more relaxing. Training with
Shinkai is relaxing.
Somehow today things don’t turn out that way.
 
It happens like this:  Arakita is in front when they reach the top of a slope,
after that he slows down without paying attention as the road becomes a
straight line. They’re alone, the traffic is quiet. He leans to take his bottle
of water and by doing so his bike is drifting a little to the right. Arakita
hears the clicks of the changing gears and has only the time turn his head.
And then nothing. His left side is empty, no one’s here to overtake him.
Shinkai brakes harshly, halting his motion and fades behind.
Arakita feels something in his chest similar to the feeling he had the last
time he tried to pitch a baseball and couldn’t.
 
He has stopped at the vending machine, there’s an aftertaste of frustration
that still doesn’t go away. He doesn’t like to remember the past, even less
seeing Shinkai’s head down for the rest of the ride because he couldn’t pass
him on that stupid road. Shinkai hesitates to follow, perhaps he’s afraid
Arakita will ask questions? If it’s the case, then he doesn’t know him very
well. He’s thirsty that’s all.
Eventually Shinkai sits next to him on the grass still wet from the morning
dew, below the road, they’re sheltering themselves from the wind. It’s not
relaxing, it’s not what Arakita expected while leaving school almost an hour
ago.
“We shouldn’t stay too long or we’ll catch a cold,” he says after a gulp of
Bepsi but he doesn’t move.
It’s too quiet so he peeks at his teammate to ensure the guy hasn’t fallen
asleep, not that he would. Shinkai’s elbows rest on his knees, he’s watching
him with his big eyes, wide awake, he’s scrutinizing him actually. He doesn’t
look upset or sad. Either he’s good at hiding stuff, something Arakita has been
suspecting for a while, or...
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Arakita asks impatiently.
“It’s fascinating…”
“…The fuck?”
“You and Juichi have become really close.”
This is a train of thought Arakita cannot comprehend. “What?”
“He says things like that all the time... He also told me the other day that
people who misjudge you always have to eat their words at some point.”
Arakita has no reply for that, he’s left speechless. It doesn’t seem that
Shinkai is messing with him but… was that a compliment or something? Why? He
looks away, the composure he perceives in those blue eyes is a bit too much to
handle.
It’s awkward now, verging on troublesome.
“Or maybe it was Jinpachi who said that…” Shinkai adds with a playful voice.
Damn.... Has he really forgotten about what happened on that road moments ago?
What the hell, joking like it’s nothing? Arakita can’t tell. It’s irritating.
Deeply annoying… He throws his arms around Shinkai’s neck, trapping him in a
firm grasp, “Don’tcha know talking about the Beauty is the best way to get on
my bad side?!” It’s true, bringing up Toudou isn’t the smartest move even if
it’s a joke. But it’s a nice diversion.
“Yasutomo…”
Arakita ignores him, he’s lost in his own moody memories, and he tightens his
grip with each sentences. “He’s a clueless moron who loses focus in the middle
of a race when he’s in god mode or whatever the hell Climbing Ugly gets high
with. Don’t lump me together with the likes of him… Pisses me off so much…”
He’s starting to feel better, bitching about meaningless stuff always lifts up
his spirits. “What’s up with Fuku-chan and him obsessing over those guys?
Yellow jerseys? Oh my fucking god that’s so lame…” His hand clenches into a
first, “And that guy, Makishi-chan…“
“The name’s Maki-chan.” Apparently Shinkai has heard it enough to never forget.
Arakita snorts, “The fuck I care.”
Then he feels strong fingers on his skin, softly encircling his wrist. Arakita
startles, he hasn’t realized until now how close Shinkai is. Their knees are
bumping, their heads are almost touching. He can’t deny the warmth under his
arm, coming from someone else, it feels so vivid. Too vivid.
“Are you trying to break my neck?” Shinkai asks.
Arakita can’t see his face, only ginger bangs that are a little damped and
stuck on his forehead. He disentangles himself quickly, putting arms and legs
at a safe distance. He hates people who invade his personal space, surely
Shinkai’s the same. Arakita focuses on the landscape, they should leave soon...
The atmosphere between them is still unnaturally awkward. He toys nervously
with the cap of his Bepsi.
It shouldn’t have surprised him but that’s the sort of crap you tell yourself
afterwards. As if his brain can possibly work at that moment. Stunned, that’s
how he is. Incapable of connecting facts and ideas or pushing Shinkai away
because, frankly speaking, his strength is sort of overwhelming. All of it: the
way Shinkai grabs his head or how that left hand holds on his shoulder or his
lips pressed on his, but if he could question his own actions certainly Arakita
wouldn’t hide behind physical abilities. He can punch the guy whenever he
wants, anytime.
The slight bite on Arakita’s lower lip freezes his movements for a second, then
something inside him switches on, quick and powerful… he also sees a very
different Shinkai looking in his eyes… and… goodbye reason. Arakita grabs the
front of his jersey harshly to pull them closer.
So it’s like this? Kissing a guy. Different that’s for sure and also unsettling
because of the sensation of losing your bearings: who’s doing what? How? What’s
the limit? Seems like they’ve got past that issue already when he feels and
allows Shinkai’s tongue inside his mouth.
Damn, damn, damn. Not good, alarming. When did Shinkai learn that stuff?
Arakita knows that the situation will escalate, rather his body knows it. That
doesn’t stop him from releasing the grip on Shinkai’s jersey and he lets his
palm touch the upper torso, because he wants to, and he feels the muscles
contracting as he presses his hand against it. It’s warm and firm, not soft
really in a good way. Shinkai's response is to kiss him with more insistence,
he also abandons Arakita’s arm and his own hand falls on his knee and then
slides down Arakita’s thigh… Completely crazy and it’ll end badly. But it's too
late.
Then Shinkai pulls away, he looks thoroughly shocked and tilts his head down.
Arakita is too disconnected to even try thinking and does the same. Okay…
they’re both… Damn.
If that’s all it takes to get them horny as hell at least that should put to
rest any claim on straightness. There are limits at being a hypocrite. And all
the strange thoughts, really strange thoughts, of the last few weeks since
Shinkai resumed his training with them come back fully. They also start to make
sense.
Nope. That’s a fucking lie. Arakita turns his head and closes his eyes briefly.
More like months, right? More like… he doesn’t remember when he started to mix
hormone-driven, weird-ass sensations with the memories of another guy’s scent,
his sweat (however gross that is), his laid back attitude, his muscular thighs
and shoulders, his carefree and perpetual smirk. And the rest, which is
actually what makes Shinkai a not-so-bad guy in the first place. The great
things about him that made it hard to swallow his decision to drop out of
competitive cycling.
Their bodies are close and it's not something unpleasant, quite the contrary.
Kissing a guy, kissing that guy… Arakita reaches his hand slowly, uncertain,
but stops when he hears a muffled laugh. Then Shinkai drops on the ground.
He’s not laughing at him, Arakita isn’t stupid, but still… he should’ve punched
him from the start. In that locker room or yesterday. Or last month. On that
road. Never mind if they are friends.
His friend. Who’s still half laughing, his body slumped on the grass with his
left arm shielding his eyes. Shinkai probably can’t explain to himself what
happened between them either or why he initiated it. That’s the mindboggling
part, Arakita went along with this and would without a doubt go further, that’s
so painfully obvious to see and feel down there, but Shinkai kissed him.
Shit…
Arakita feels the back of his neck tickling, exactly where his teammate grabbed
him earlier with his wet gloves and sweaty fingers. “Dumbass…” He mutters under
his breath and wishes to look away. He can. He should. Right now. Instead he’s
listening and watching, Shinkai’s body is undeniably masculine and Arakita
wants to lean and touch and kiss him again. If he does, things will forever
change between them and the team, surely… it can’t be otherwise.
Arakita doesn’t move. The Bepsi bottle lays on the grass next to his helmet,
half empty. It doesn’t matter.
Thankfully by the time his friend has composed himself and the tension has died
off they’re not hard anymore. Everything has more or less calmed down:
Arakita’s heartbeat, lewd ideas and urges. But his brain is still a blizzard,
although he doesn’t want to think too much of the consequences. It’ll pass,
they’re only sixteen, guys, single. Whatever. What the fuck do they know?
Nothing, that’s it.
“Fuku-chan won’t ever give up on your sorry ass, so you better get your shit
together. Understood, number 4?” That’s all Arakita manages to say.
“So pushy...” Shinkai’s voice sounds far, really far. There’s something about
him, he looks so strong and levelheaded, all athleticism and yet also as if
he’s about to break before your eyes. This is going beyond what Arakita has
bargained for, he doesn’t handle well vulnerability, especially when it’s not
his.
Arakita takes his helmet and Bepsi and stands up, he’s just heard the familiar
sound of a bike, a quiet one, and without fail his roommate appears, already
pointing his index accusingly.
“Arakita! That’s such a childish thing to do! How old are you seriously!?”
“Shaddup! So noisy… damn annoying brat… and why did ya follow us anyway?”
Toudou stops his bike near theirs and stares him down, “Because Hayato left me
a note! Unlike you, he is a considerate friend.”
Arakita grits his teeth and throws a glare at his training partner, who tries
his best but still avoids eye contact. Shinkai is embarrassed and damn hell he
should be. Except Arakita doesn’t enjoy much seeing that unusual expression and
for an instant he forgets about Toudou.
Big mistake. “Why are you lazing around so shamefully? Get up we don’t have
much time before classes.” Somehow, in Toudou’s twisted arbitral judgment,
Arakita is the only one who deserves a lecture because the glare is aimed at
him and him only.
“I’m already up dumbass! It’s him the lazy one,” he waves his hand towards his
left but Shinkai passes by him quickly and goes back to the road.
“Sorry Jinpachi, my bad.”
“It’s alright.”
Arakita follows behind, he’s not brooding, not yet. They attach their helmet
and Toudou starts pedaling, he’s going to be a pain in the ass for a while.
“Arakita, so just to let you know, I’m holding a serious grudge against you.”
“Yeah, yeah pull already.” He isn’t angry, bickering with Toudou all the way
back to school could be the exact thing he needs now. It’s not like he can
forget about the other pain in the ass in any case.
“Hey,” Shinkai has retreated in the last position, his voice can’t reach Toudou
so he’s calling him. Arakita doesn’t know what face he’s going to see when he
turns around, but there’s nothing unfamiliar when he finally does, although it
takes him a few seconds to do just that. Shinkai smiles, “Sorry about earlier…
Did I freak you out?” And that’s all he says. It’s the usual smile even if he
can’t fool Arakita, beneath it he’s like a kid who messed up or perhaps he
smiles like when he plays with that orphan bunny.
That guy… I swear…
“You didn’t.”
Yasutomo doesn’t know what Hayato is thinking and it’s driving him insane.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
Yasutomo said nothing. He says nothing about it. The whole day, the week after,
he’s the same. Nothing has changed and Shinkai is relieved not to have to
provide any explanation; he has none, even if it’s unfair. It’s disarming the
way he feels about that kiss and the rest, or why it happened, it just did.
Unsurprisingly it’s more comfortable to avoid thinking about the whole thing.
The only thought that regularly makes its way to his consciousness is that
Shinkai is glad he hasn’t fucked up a great friendship.
 
 
 
 
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Thinking back, it’s not as if they’ve dramatically changed over the last two
years, they’re just less stupid and more patient. Even Toudou drops the idol
act during races, thus becoming scarily efficient. They haven’t drifted apart
either.
The first time Arakita saw Shinkai, he was smiling.
“Shinkai Hayato, nice to meet you.”
Arakita was just… Arakita, “Yeah… whatever…”
Shinkai also offered one of his god-awful chocolate/banana power bar. He
refused, not politely, but the aloof boy couldn’t care less about formalities.
Shinkai was just… nice. Thinking back, it all started there.
“You left a great impression on Juichi, he’s thrilled.”
“With that stone face?”
“Yeah… you’re right, sometimes it’s hard to know if he’s happy or angry or-“
“If he needs to take a piss.”
That made Shinkai laugh, “Something like that.”
Thinking back, Arakita had already let his guard down. Then. At that exact
moment.
“Arakita… Arakita Yasutomo.”
“You don’t mind if I call you Yasutomo?”
Thinking back, it was a mistake.
“Tch... whatever…”
 
In February of their second year, Fukutomi goes all unflinching, inflexible
Captain and schedules Shinkai for the next race whether he agrees or not. Good,
about fucking time. Shinkai is more than ready and Arakita can’t do the assist
job all by himself constantly, he’s still the best sprinter of Hakone Academy
regardless of his subpart condition at the beginning of the year. The senpai
don’t object. Shinkai has no choice and he accepts because he knows better;
sometimes you need a big push from others and Fukutomi is very persistent.
Toudou gives the thumb up, “Let’s do this together.”
Shinkai wins the sprint by a large margin.
After that, there’s a slight difference in his demeanor, it’s subtle and, in
all honesty, Arakita wouldn’t have noticed if that thing hadn’t
happened.Shinkai’s carefree old self seems to be taking over again, he’s more
confident, even if glimpses of insecurities pierce through those calm features
once in a while. It’s rare, but since last time Arakita pays more attention and
notices the moments when Shinkai looks like he can’t stand the sight of his
bike.
They don’t talk about last November, it’s not taboo, only a useless topic. It
leads to nowhere.
Arakita is busy, tired or has to retake failed exams, thus self-reflection is
out of the question, it doesn’t even cross his mind to do that kind of stuff.
He’s not the type to analyze; he gets angry and lashes out. There lies the
contradiction he’s incapable to understand: he doesn’t lash out at Shinkai. He
can’t, because of… reasons. Even if most of the time it’s annoying to the
extent that actually punching him wouldn’t be of much help.
That’s his state of mind and how deep in shit he finds himself one morning in
early spring, staring too much, too long, while number four is waiting for them
outside the building. What was supposed to be a thing of the past is very much
present, right in front of him. Shinkai is a distracting person. His hair has
grown a bit and he’s even more muscular than before. Casually sprawled on his
bike, he eats some sugar shit while listening absently to Izumida’s rambling
about some new furniture at the gym.
Shinkai is…
Fukutomi pats on Arakita’s shoulder, “You look tired.” It’s like a cold shower.
One day Arakita will thank him properly (with words) for his unyielding
friendship, for giving him a goal… but now, he glares because, come on, the
nerve. Fuku-chan is a pain in the ass of his own.
“And whose fault is it, Captain obvious!?”
Fukutomi ignores that, “Forty laps today.” Arakita protests under his breath,
but of course the ace won’t even allow that. “Stop complaining.”
And he does, he will throw himself in the preparations for the Inter High
because he wants it bad, that race. The competition and all the things it has
to give, Arakita will grab everything and enjoy or endure, mostly endure,
that’s crystal clear. Sometimes he thinks he might be some kind of a masochist.
That’s when he catches number four smirking at him for no goddamn reason.  “The
weather’s great today, let’s sprint,” Shinkai says.
“You should be climbing slopes right now or you’ll be left behind at the In-
High.”
“Yeah, perhaps.”
Shinkai is...
Arakita is attracted to girls too, that’s a biological fact since… forever.
They’re pretty and have nice curves. He never got off watching guys or gay
stuff but the idea of trying doesn’t appall him, so the thing about being
turned on by another guy is definitively not just about Shinkai. But no way in
hell he’s gonna shove his tongue down, say… Izumida’s throat to prove his
point… Oh fuck no… What was that?…
Many times Arakita wants to punch himself.
“Yasutomo, are you alright?”
Nooooo, he’s not. Arakita wants to yell at him for digging out something what
should’ve stayed in the depth of his brain and also for being a ‘considerate
friend’. Always nice.
No, almost always… The first time Arakita saw his demon’s face, he got chills
like everyone else, as if he was seeing another person.
“Don’t ask dumb questions.”
Thinking back, Shinkai was a contradiction from the start.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
During spring break there’s an important race in the Southern Alps, it lasts
only one day but it’s long, exhausting and ends at Mount Tekari. Incredibly
tough. Its purpose is to test them under pressure, this is the most difficult
race after the Inter High.
Fukutomi is first and Hakone Academy sets new records.
 
“I did it… I pedaled until my legs fell off…” Arakita lies on the ground
unceremoniously but Toudou can’t fault him.
“I’m glad it’s over,” Izumida says. He and Shinkai are at least sitting
properly but doubtful they’ll able to move for next couples of minutes.
“I told you that slope was brutal.” Even Toudou is exhausted but he can stand.
He brought Fukutomi to the mountain checkpoint and then waited for them, they
weren’t that far. Izumida has improved a lot.
“It was,” Shinkai smiles at him.
“Thank you for pulling us in the end Arakita-san and Toudou-san.”
“It’s normal.”
Of course Arakita’s answer is less amiable, “Humph… as if I had a choice…” But
Toudou doesn’t scold him, he has worked really hard today, surprising many
people who still doubt his abilities and his commitment. Arakita is a strange
person.
They all stay quiet for a while, waiting for Fukutomi’s interview to end.
“Crossing that line was the best feeling,” Shinkai breaks the silence.
“Which one? Sprint checkpoint or finish line?”
Shinkai lifts his head and watches Arakita, he thinks about it and then says,
“Both.” 
“So tell me,” Arakita hasn’t moved at all since earlier and doesn’t even bother
look at Hayato. “When the fuck are you finally gonna pass them on the left?”
“Arakita-san!”
“Arakita!” Truly, his roommate hasn’t one shred of delicacy.
But this doesn’t seem to hurt Shinkai, this is something that Toudou doesn’t
get, he never heard Shinkai retort harshly or complain about Arakita’s
rudeness. Granted, he never saw Shinkai getting mad at anyone.
“I don’t need to,” comes the calm reply.
“That’s because you haven’t had a serious rival.”
“I can control them from the front.”
Arakita sits up, he looks irritated for a reason that escapes Toudou and
obviously Izumida too. “For now.”
“Arakita stop it, you’re being annoying.”
Arakita throws him a dark glance but lies down again quickly after. “Tch…”
Toudou knows he has matured, a year before they would've ended up quarreling
until Fukutomi would stop them. Still, sometimes he’s just obstinately blunt.
“The last time I tried wasn’t exactly successful... Was it?”
They all turn to face Shinkai, taken by surprise, Toudou wasn’t aware that his
teammate was trying to overcome this problem behind their backs, although he
can understand him on a certain level. Toudou would probably do the same.
Shinkai is starring at Arakita intensely.
Arakita is about to open his mouth and answer back but he doesn’t, they lock
eyes for an instant and then he gets up. That’s when everybody notices how
exhausted he truly is because he struggles to get on his feet. He’s smirking in
a way Toudou hasn’t seen often, actually it’s hard to know if he’s angry, for
once.
“You really are something.”
And he leaves.
Toudou can’t explain why but the situation is odd, weirdly so, it’s probably
irrelevant, even ridiculous but even an idiot could tell the mood between them
is strange. “What was that about?” He asks Shinkai.
He only smiles, “Nothing.”
 
                                     o-o-o
 
It’s one of those bright Sundays, Shinkai has gone home bringing along his
green bib from his last success. He won’t lie, that race lifted up a weight off
his shoulders. Fukutomi was right and even if Hakone team is basically a bunch
of bullies, they are his friends and most valuable than any sprinter prize in
the world.
But he missed the taste of the victory more than he thought he would. Can’t
erase the past, can he? Demon or not.
 
Late in the afternoon Shinkai goes to the convenience store near his
neighborhood to buy his favorite energy bars, essential for his metabolism
(vital actually), something his family still doesn’t understand. On his way
back he bumps into a former classmate from middle school.
Hazuki-san. Living in the same area they occasionally meet, although not as
much as before, since Shinkai has joined the club once again. She is pretty.
Nice too. She has dark brown eyes and mid-long black hair. She’s interested
because she keeps glancing at him in a certain manner that is obvious. They
chit-chat for a while, catching up.
Shinkai already knows. He has known for years but, one last time, he wants to
compare. There’s a group of high schoolers like them nearby, boys. Shinkai sees
them from the corner of his eye. She’s pretty, they’re not. She has a sweet
voice, they don’t (they’re rather loud, boasting about something trivial).
She’s not overly flirty which means she’s not the annoying kind, she has many
qualities he likes in people. And yet she has none that makes him look at her
the way she does look at him. Instead, a dark-haired guy has caught his
attention.
Shinkai smiles to himself. She asks him why and he feels a little guilty having
lost track of their conversation, but that’s when Yuuto appears on his bike.
She leaves a short while after, waving her hand at them.
“Girlfriend?” Yuuto inquires when she’s out of earshot.
“No… she’s not my type.”
Yuuto looks over his shoulder, “Your loss, she’s very pretty.” Little bro likes
nice people and cute things.  “What’s your type by the way?”
Shinkai doesn’t answer at first, he walks beside his brother who’s riding
slowly, matching his pace. He didn’t plan to say it but why not? Sooner or
later he has to. He takes a power bar, gives it to his brother and bites on his
own.
“Yuuto… girls aren’t my type.”
Yuuto’s face betrays his puzzlement, that’s a curious change for once, usually
he’s always so impassible. He observes his older brother for a couple of
seconds, “…Oh.”
They stay quiet, it’s peaceful. Yuuto never talks unnecessarily. He also
doesn’t dwell on what he’s heard, apparently. They chew on chocolate and
granola, slowly, and go in the direction of their home.
“Are you hungry?” Shinkai asks because Yuuto has already finished his bar and
he’s looking pensively at the sky.
“I’m starving.”
Shinkai chuckles, uncomplicated people are easy to understand. “I wonder what’s
for dinner.” 
“Do mom and dad know?” Yuuto asks suddenly.
He shouldn’t have underestimated the little devil. “No, there’s no rush telling
them. No one knows except you.” He doesn’t care, really, he doesn’t intend to
hide it either, it’s just more convenient and there’s the In-High to
concentrate on, other things to think of. Exams. Friendship.
“Heh? You didn’t tell the others?” By that Yuuto means Juichi and…
“You’re my little bro, of course I’d tell you first.”
It’s the truth, Shinkai has always wanted it that way. He comes from a close-
knit family, that’s how they do things. He also wonders if his parents will be
surprised when he tells them, but knowing them they’ll surely react just like
Yuuto. Dad might even buy him condoms because “You have to be prepared Hayato”
and mom… “As long as you don’t bring a lazy boyfriend at home, that’s the one
thing I won’t accept. You know, it’s also important to have common interests to
make it last… like sports.”
They’re crazy and he’s lucky. Yuuto is smiling and Shinkai feels even better
after that. He should’ve done it sooner.
 
Later that night, lying on his bed, Shinkai thinks about it.
“What’s your type?”
His type.
Mercurial guys with thin silver chains around pale, stiff necks.
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
The dorm is already infested. Arakita almost forgot that today is the end of
spring break and the first-years are here, invading their relatively peaceful
territory, which means tomorrow he will officially be a senior student. They’re
loud, rude and he wants to punch one of the shrimps who had the dreadful idea
to step on his toes at the entrance. It makes you wonder if the dorm prez and
his cronies are even around. But maybe it's just that Arakita is in a foul
mood, even more than usual, and for a very specific reason that has more or
less messed up the rest of his vacation. Number four finally gave him hints he
may, perhaps, eventually, be ok to discuss the never tackled and much thought
about subject. The… er… kiss? Groping?
“The last time I tried…” Arakita can be slow many times but he can also read
between the lines.
After retrieving the key of his new room he climbs the stairs quickly, creating
a passage through the crowd with the natural authority of his presence, none of
the newcomers dare to look at him in the eyes. Arakita has always been scary on
first impression. On the third floor he meets familiar faces, he also knows
Toudou hasn’t arrived yet and he wants to take the opportunity to claim the
best bed.
He passes by room 311, the door is ajar, there’s half a chance Fukutomi is
inside. Half a chance he’s not. Arakita shifts awkwardly, cursing himself, and
decides to knock.
“Come in.”
Damn. That’s one hundred percent not Fuku-chan. He can’t flee now, not that he
actually wants to. If Shinkai is alone then Arakita will settle this once and
for all. When he peeks inside the room the view that awaits him hardly
surprises him. Fukutomi is absent and Shinkai is sitting on the floor in the
middle of the room with unpacked boxes in disarray all around him, one of his
energy bar stuck between his teeth, the rabbit cage indicates that Usakichi
wanders somewhere under the bed.
“Tch... you never change.”
Shinkai glances at him, "Yasutomo… Hi. Nice room don’t you think?"
It’s true that being seniors gives them some advantages such as the size of the
new rooms, it compensates for other nagging stuff like exams. Arakita closes
behind him and leans against the door.
"You should hurry up and tidy before Fuku-chan sees that mess, he's a freak
when it comes to order.”
Shinkai smiles and puts a book on a pile of clothes, "That's why I came early."
Of course he knows their captain the best, they’ve been friends since middle
school after all.  Also, Shinkai may be a naturally disorganized guy but
regarding others he manages not to make them uncomfortable. Most of the time.
When he started at the club, Arakita was a little envious of their bond, it
never was jealousy though, that would’ve been beyond stupid, and the friendship
between them came naturally. Fukutomi is both his and Shinkai’s best pal, it’s
rather simple if you think about it, there’s room for everyone. Only… what
exactly are they ? Arakita isn’t sure anymore.
He takes the initiative, “So… about that stuff…”
“What stuff?”
Arakita wants to yell, Shinkai shouldn’t play dumb with him right now, although
perhaps it’s only to diffuse the tension, not that Shinkai is tensed, that’s
all coming from Arakita.
“What you said at the end of the race.”
Shinkai stops whatever he’s doing and looks up, “Oh… that ?” There’s a careless
grin on that face that shouldn’t exist. Then he sighs, “I guess I owe you an
apology.”
“You already did that, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You piss me off so much, I swear… I hate
innuendos so let’s hear it!”
Shinkai swallows the last bite of his bar, “I knew I shouldn’t have brought
this up…” then he clears his throat, “Okay… last November I was a bit confused.
But now, everything’s fine, I’m more than fine.”
Arakita understand the confusion, he’s been there, for a very long time. What
isn’t right is that Shinkai doesn’t pursue. “What… that’s all?”
“Did you come here for a specific reason Yasutomo?”
He can’t believe Shinkai asks him this. “It’s so damn annoying... I can’t take
it anymore…” Arakita gesticulates frantically, “We’re friends right? Then I
want it back. Now. Without the awkward stuff and no talking, it’s not working
if we don’t talk!”
Shinkai leans back, resting his hands on the floor, dejected, “Yeah, it’s not
working… But to be honest, I feel pushed in a corner right now and it’s not a
great feeling.”
“Who cares! Come on, go ahead.”
It’s not entirely true that Arakita doesn’t care, but he needs to hear the
whole story, the one that matters, so he can move on at long last. Number four
stays quiet for a while, he seems to ponder.  
“We’re friends first and I want to help the team and Juichi to win the In-High.
I’ll do everything for that, including stepping out of my comfort zone if I
have to.”
“Yeah… me too,” Arakita says.
“That’s why I won’t do that again, don’t worry.”
“Why did you do it in the first place?”
“Kiss you?” Shinkai smirks knowingly, for some reason it’s irritating and
alluring at the same time. “Because you’re a nice guy.”
“Bullshit.”
“At that time it was probably an impulse, something like that… all I can do is
apologize again. I know you’re not gay, but I am.”
Arakita is left speechless, he didn’t expect that revelation, but what did he
expect? After all he’s the one who barged in, demanding explanations, not
caring about the other’s feeling and what made him silent all those months or
elusive or restrained…  Arakita’s shoulders sink, “I feel like shit for forcing
you to say it.”
“Well, you kinda did.”
That stings. Arakita curses himself aloud and his memories are overwhelming, he
starts overthinking. “Damn… so what? Was I an experiment or some shit like
that?” His tone is accusing but he regrets the words when Shinkai’s eyes widen
in surprise. It was the wrong choice and not the first time he made that
mistake. “I mean I’m ok with helping a pal and stuff… but you shoulda’ve told
me something… fuck… What was I supposed to believe all this time, huh?”
“What did you believe?”
“I don’t know!… Hormones maybe? Or that you were upset because you didn’t pass
me and, well, I was just there… the fuck! Damn you Shinkai… maybe you were
missing your girl or something. I’m pretty sure you’d have jumped anyone that
day…” Arakita snorts and looks away, “A girl… right-” too late, it already
escapes his mouth. Oh no… why did I say that?!
“Sorry if you felt used.”
Arakita cringes, he can’t even look at his friend. “Nooo, I didn’t feel that
way… argh… this is too complicated…” He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t
have been such a jerk.
The silence between them is dreadful.
Shinkai stands up abruptly, “That’s true, let’s make it simple then,” he walks
in his direction, Arakita is forced to look straight ahead. Good thing Shinkai
is the way he is: laid back, tolerant and all that jazz. He’s extending his
right hand without hesitation and waits for Arakita to accept the hand
shake. Arakita wanted his friendship back, even if it never went away in the
first place, that's the purpose of him being here, in this mess of a high
school dorm room. He takes the hand with reluctance, because it’s embarrassing
how Shinkai is ten time more mature than him.
“Are we good now Yasutomo?”
“Of course we are, dumbass.”
Shinkai nods, he seems satisfied although looks as if he wants to say something
else but then turns around. Arakita doesn’t think and grabs him by the collar,
yanks him actually. “Wait… you said you won’t do it anymore but what about me?”
Arakita wants to try an experiment too. No he wants to get revenge, no he wants
a best friend, no he wants… he wants…
He pushes Shinkai against the wall, hands griping the broad shoulders, it’s
warm under the shirt, Shinkai has always had a warm skin. There’s a quick
expression of surprise in the blue eyes but he gets what’s going on. Arakita
leans, he’s nervous, that wasn’t supposed to happen after all that talking, but
when his eyes drift on Shinkai’s lips nothing really matters. He can hear the
muttered words that reach his brain very slowly, “Bad idea…” Arakita can’t help
agreeing, it’s a bad idea, one he’ll perhaps end up regretting. Or not at all.
Depends on what they’ll do with this.
“Payback time,” Arakita says.
 
Shinkai doesn’t remember the details of the first kiss, he forgot all that
except that Arakita’s lips were a little chapped, but not so much. His body was
tight, just like now. But on the whole, it’s different, unsteady, when you’re
the passive one it’s a completely different experience. Arakita is cautious and
hesitant; he does the exact opposite of what Shinkai did last fall. His hand
brushes the side of Shinkai’s face when their mouths open and the electric
feeling ignites his chest. There’s no way Shinkai can hold back the soft moans,
not to mention he wants to touch Arakita everywhere. But it’s a slow kiss and
he can think, he can use part of his brain, so instead he runs his fingers
through the silky black hair and holds Arakita’s head, anything to keep them
close.
It lasts who knows how long, they need to breath, that’s the only reason why
they stop.
Arakita rubs his lips with the back of his hand, his face is crimson and his
eyes unfocused. They’re both very troubled but Shinkai can hide behind his
bangs.
“Back to normal now,” Arakita is unconvincing, unconvinced. Yeah… let’s just do
that. Does he even try?
Shinkai bends his head and bites on his lower lip, “You’re awful Yasutomo.”
He doesn’t mean that Arakita is a bad kisser but that’s probably what his
friend will interpret. Good, now if they could laugh this off as a stupid joke
it would be perfect. Because Shinkai isn’t in a position where he can return to
normal, that was a viable option five minutes ago but not now, not anymore. A
sloppy kiss like this one shouldn’t make you feel that way. He knows Arakita
didn’t mean to play with his feelings but that’s the price you pay when you’re
not being entirely honest.
Yes it was awful, the taste left on his lips, awful that it made him dizzy. He
thought trying friendship and just that he could do it and easily. Arakita did
a good job throwing that out of the window. Yasutomo and his awful, awkward
kiss. A sweet kiss with a gentle touch.
But the truth stays the same, Shinkai values their friendship more than some
fooling around in half empty dorm rooms.
“You need practice,” Shinkai wants to smile so he does. It’ll perhaps rile the
other up, someone as short tempered as Arakita as to, right?
“Tch… see ya later…” Two seconds later, Arakita slams the door loudly.
After some time Usakichi dares to come out of Juichi’s bed and approaches him,
Shinkai reaches and takes it in his arms, the poor thing is hungry and the room
is a mess. He chuckles, “I know, Yasutomo is a scary guy.”
 
                                     o-o-o
 
It’s back to normal, minus normality. But it’s fine.
 
The shrimps (freshmen) came to watch the first training session of the year,
Arakita is too exhausted to complain. It’s an intense session; all five of them
are giving their utmost best. “We are strong and getting stronger and stronger
than stronger”.  Fuku-chan’s mantra has the advantage to be straightforward.
When they’re finished even Toudou can’t find the energy to boast about his even
bigger fan club.
 
“Ah… uhm… Ara… Arakita-san!”
Arakita doesn’t want to be disturbed, he thought the very sight of his slumped
body sitting on the bench should prevent things like that, but youngsters can
be really dense.
“So... sorry to disturb you but… I saw you at the last race you were amazing
and I want to follow your example as an assist and I’m very much looking
forward to be your kouhai and have the chance to train together and good luck
for the Inter-High, Hakone’s the best. Bye.”
When Arakita looks up, the little brat has vanished.
“What the hell!”
“That was so cute,”  Shinkai sits beside him and bumps in his shoulder,
“Arakita Yasutomo… the Ace of the ace assists,” and number four is having fun
pointing at him, bakyun-trademark-like, pistol-kapow-whatever.
“Shaddup…”
Shinkai pulls on Arakita’s collar, it’s so out of the blue that he jumps
quickly. “You don’t wear it anymore…” Shinkai shows his neck, “Your chain.”
What the…? “Hah?” when he finally registers, Arakita slaps the hand away. “My
sisters will never let me live it down if I lose it. Tch! Shouldn’t have given
it to me in the first place, idiot brats…” Why did he ask that? “Why d’ya ask?”
Shinkai shrugs, “No reason.”
That guy has always been touchy feely, annoyingly so, and it’s not as if he has
stopped, but it’s different. It’s different in Arakita’s mind because they’ve
shared the sort of intimacy he’d never shared with anyone in his entire
existence. It’s finally comfortable. Later, Shinkai leaves the locker room with
Fukutomi and Toudou, they’re going to study at the ramen shop. Arakita can tell
he’s in a good mood, chatting and stuff… Arakita isn’t jealous, he sees their
stupid faces every day, he sees that ginger head every single day too. It’s
great how things are between them, really… totally, absolutely great.
He doesn’t go with them because today there’s a baseball exhibition match in
town. He’s skipping classes and didn’t tell anyone. That’s the first time in
four years he wants to see one.
On his way out, he’s still thinking about it. The only thing that doesn’t
exactly makes it idyllic is that the mere idea of Shinkai showing interest of
any kind (ok physical mostly) toward other guys makes him want to slam his fist
into the next door. He doesn’t do that, instead he slams his head against
it. What the heck!... No, Shinkai isn’t that kind of guy...
The thing about friendship combined with physical attraction: it keeps driving
you insane.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
Shinkai runs his fingers over his lips absently, he’ll miss seeing that silver
chain. Arakita’s sisters gave it to him. No matter how much he protests and
whines about them on regular basis, it must be precious to him.
Arakita skipped classes today, even Fukutomi doesn’t know why.
“Kuroda looks in a good shape,” the captain says.
“Huh?”
“He will be tough to beat at the elimination round for the sixth place.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shinkai wasn’t paying attention. “Seems a sure bet.”
“I’m going to take a bath, are you coming?”
“Later.”
When his roommate leaves Shinkai lays on his bed and closes his eyes. He wasn’t
paying attention all evening. He’s been daydreaming a lot since last week and
since he doesn’t go home every Sunday like before, he sees Arakita almost every
day.
Thankfully the goal is clear and right in front of him. After the In-High,
he’ll see.
 
During the night it gets worst, or better. A bit of both.
“The left side is all yours…” Arakita sneers and raises a hand, showing the
path, it’s an endless line.
“How about watching your right Yasutomo?”
In his dream he passes on the right, the left, the right again… until the road
disappears. It’s easy. It’s going fast, it’s dark, Shinkai is at the mercy of
that body. He lets the hand slide down his throat, it lingers there and presses
on his Adam’s apple. Arakita’s body is light but at moments it weights a lot,
like now. It hurts without sensing pain. Hands everywhere, brushing, holding
him. And the warm and wet kiss on his chest and then down. What does Shinkai
want, pinning Arakita down or the reverse?
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Arakita digs his fingers in Shinkai’s nape to pull
him down, closer, he whispers, “We lost the race… because of you.”
Shinkai is falling, it’s dark and quick, his heart might burst from the sudden
fall.
The ceiling, his room and Fukutomi's steady respiration. The dorm.
There’s no dealing with shit like this, he’s tired and it was so stupid. When
he realizes fully, he rolls on his side while ignoring the throbbing in his
briefs. It was so stupid that dream, he wants to tell the others tomorrow,
they’ll all laugh. Arakita too… Shinkai chuckles quietly. No that’s not going
to happen, except if he’s begging for death, it’ll cause the brooding dark-
haired a massive heart stroke if Shinkai comes out publicly by exposing his
fantasies. The rest, his fears, his insecurities he can deal with them, they’re
childish stuff after all… right?
Shinkai sighs, fatigue and obstinacy have no effect on his dick. Man… what a
mess… he’s been pent up for too long. It’s not the first time something like
this happens, but generally he’s very conscious while thinking about Yasutomo.
In the middle of the night there’s a good chance he won’t have to explain his
trip to the bathroom for such an unsightly reason. Fukutomi is deep asleep, the
corridor dead calm. It’s a good thing he never got unwelcomed surprises in the
locker room, with guys half naked most of the time, it’s a wonder he never had
problems sharing a room with Juichi, a guy relatively attractive objectively
speaking.
While closing the door of the bathroom Shinkai thinks that at some point he
will end up telling Arakita about all this. Because although he’s good at
keeping secrets, he’s not entirely certain he’ll able to keep this one to
himself.
 
***** Chapter 4 *****
During the rainy season, the landscape around Hakone has a special atmosphere.
Manami’s deep blue eyes watch intently the rain that falls through the
branches, the drops are reflecting the grey-white light from above and the
leaves rustle softly. Observing the sky peacefully like this has become so rare
these days that when the downpour cut short their training earlier, he’s spent
the whole time contemplating its colors until the exhaustion of his eyes, his
neck, even his patience.
When he lowers his head and takes in the vastness of the valley, his attention
drifts to the streams of water trickling into bumpy paths, hindered by mud,
trees and the road. At last, they disappear, descending into oblivion.
“It’s ethereal.”
“It is.”
Manami almost forgot that he isn’t alone; standing by his side, Shinkai seems
to enjoy the view as well. He is what people call the easy-going type,
different from the others senpai because he’s on first name basis with almost
everyone. Manami likes it a lot, the simplicity.
“Here,” Shinkai points his finger slightly to the right. Manami observes the
mass of grey, vaporous clouds, waiting for something extraordinary to occur,
although he’s perfectly aware nothing will. “That’s a bunny.”
“Oh fuck no…” Someone behind them clicks their tongue, “Please, not again!”
Arakita is what people call the difficult-to-deal-with type. “Don’t you ever
feel embarrassed?” He’s crouched against the wooden wall of their temporary
shelter, a nervous hand rubs his seemingly tired features.
Shinkai shrugs with nonchalance and smiles, “Sorry, I try my best.”
“Your sense of humour is so atrocious even Fuku-chan cringes. Every single
time.”
“Not everyone is blessed with witty remarks to throw right and left… or is it
foul-mouthed remarks, I wonder?”
This is....Manami thinks racing alongside (and against) Fukutomi is exciting,
especially on harsh slopes, he also loves watching Toudou’s quiet and smooth
dancing style but this is…
“Rather my foul mouth than a pathological pet obsession.”
“You wound me.”
…Oddly entertaining. He chimes in, eyes still cast on the landscape, “I think
Shinkai-san is very funny.”
A warm hand lands on his shoulder, “Thanks Sangaku.”
“Don’t encourage him Manami!”
They’ve been sidelined because of the rainfall but mostly because of the
captain’s order: Fukutomi forbade his teammates to get sick before the Inter
High. Today’s program was to split them in two; one sprinter, one climber and
one all-rounder for each teams and giving the fact that Manami was less
familiar with Arakita and Shinkai, they ended up together. He doesn’t mind,
it’s always fun to learn to know people you wouldn’t share anything with in
other circumstances. And so far, this entire afternoon has been more than fun.
Manami may not quite get the bottom of the story but his senses still caught on
the electricity in the air.
“I never imagined that Arakita-san and Shinkai-san would get along so well,” he
muses aloud.
It’s followed by a silence, nothing awkward, it’s just floating between the
three of them. Until the ace assist snorts and a waves a hand dismissively,
“Like hell we do.” A pair of sceptical eyes land on him, but the tempestuous
older boy doesn’t say anything further. It doesn’t escape Manami that the
bored-out-of-his-mind expression he’s been wearing all along is surely an act.
“Most of the time,” Shinkai says softly and Manami slips his gaze to meet a
knowing smile.  
                                     o-o-o 
                                        
Arakita managed to fall back into a semi sleep without too much difficulty a
while ago, after the others left. He’s not sure how much time has passed,
without windows it’s hard to guess. Izumida left too. But now the obnoxious
noise of the cars outside prevents any napping time. There's another noise and,
despite stubbornly closing his eyes, Arakita knows that the person who has just
entered the tent came to shake him out of his current lethargic state.
“What time is it?” He asks.
“Half past five, we need to clear the place.”
Arakita opens his eyes, frowning. Shinkai greets him with a tired smile and
bags under his empty blue eyes, weighed down by that after-race slump. But it
hasn’t cut off his appetite; he’s still nibbling on a bar. Arakita has given up
being snappy all together when he woke up the first time so he smirks lazily.
“You look like shit… How far behind did you fall?”
“Thanks for the concern but I finished in time and even had a nice talk with
Jin-kun,” Shinkai sits on the edge of the bed. “By the way,” he takes the green
bib out of his pocket and shows it. “This is yours.”
Arakita lets out a sneer, “Keep it.” He doesn’t want to be reminded right now.
Shinkai nods and doesn’t say “Thank you” or “How are you feeling?”, words that
would make Arakita throw up. It’s like he already knew the answer and really…
how close have they become?
“I want to see Fuku-chan.”
“Thought so, I’ll go get him.”   
“No, wait,” Arakita sits, still groggy. “Help me get the hell out of here
first, I’m sick of that bed.”
“Really? You looked pretty comfy napping on it.”
Arakita rolls his eyes and Shinkai chuckles, pulling his arm over his shoulders
and lifting him up on his feet. His head is spinning and his aching legs don’t
respond well; the one who looks like shit must be him, no doubt. The sprinter
grabs his waist and leads the way out. Shinkai’s warm skin is sticky, there’s
also Arakita’s own sweat, all mingled.
“Damn… you need a bath,” Arakita sighs.
“You’re one to talk.”
 
Outside the heat is itchy and heavy and a pain in the ass, at least the
declining sun has the decency not to blind him with a blazing light. They bump
into others racers, or walking corpses depending on your outlook. He spots
Machimiya in the crowd. That’s right, he owes him something…Arakita calls after
him, “Yo Machimiya, meet me here in thirty minutes.” The other stares a few
seconds before waving at him, a sign that he will.
Shinkai is suddenly walking faster and Arakita has to adjust to the abrupt
change of pace, but that’s when he sees Fukutomi near Hakogaku’s van. He’s
dealing with the managers and the coach, he also looks tired but calm. His back
with the yellow number one bib no longer here.
Arakita inhales deeply, setting aside disappointment and frustration. “That
sucks so much…” he mutters.
“I know.” Shinkai’s voice is strained.
Arakita wants to believe that none of this is fair but it would be a big fat
lie. Fukutomi turns around when they approach, he’s got that stone
mask plastered on his face but Arakita knows better. Eyes don’t lie, ever. It
doesn’t matter for now, he feels better just standing next to him.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
It’s a nice ryokan on the lakeshore, old but not old fashioned. Toudou has a
lot to comment about it although he doesn’t criticize which means there’s
nothing to complain about. At least normal people wouldn’t do that.
“No private onsen?”
“We stay only one night and it’s expensive,” Fukutomi says patiently. Arakita
grumbles something along the line of ‘we deserved it’ just for the sake of it.
The location has a soothing effect on Shinkai.
 
Izumida sought him later in the evening, they went relaxing in the hot springs
and now sit on the impeccable engawa with a view on a lavish garden. The
conversation inevitably drifts towards the race, the younger boy hypothesizes
on how it would have ended if… many ifs, this or that. Shinkai listens without
interfering, the thing he has learned the most today is that the human factor
is much more important than he thought. And unpredictable, same as luck.
“Arakita-san said Fukutomi-san had seen the potential before anyone else,”
Izumida is talking about Manami, “and that I should pick up on details and rely
more on my instincts. It’s strange because I believe I’m already doing that.”
Izumida pats on his chest.
“I’m sure that experience will help you next year if you want to be captain.”
“Ah… uh… yes.”
“Do you want to?”
Izumida hesitates, he has some weird notions of acting within what’s
‘permissible’ and ‘allowed’, especially in his presence. “Yes, I can do it.”
The voice sounds resolute but Shinkai still nudges his shoulder so he can
relax. “Start worrying tomorrow or next week. No rush.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“So that’s where the sprinter crew’s been loitering?”
It’s Arakita and Fukutomi. Toudou follows behind, he had a phone call earlier
with his mom or Makishima, but either way he’s more cheerful than before
dinner. Juichi sits next to Shinkai, his back straight, arms crossed on chest.
He looks older with the green yukata. “Manami is already asleep,” he informs
them.
“With his puffy face he’d almost pass as a cute kouhai.”
“Tsk… that guy’s been a pain from start to finish, actually both of them.” Then
Arakita yells the words that sum up what’s on everyone’s mind. “Goddamn… I’m
still not over it!”
Someone bursts out laughing, Toudou perhaps, and it escalates from there. Even
Fukutomi cracks a grin. The tension, or what’s left of it, fades like ice under
that insane summer heat. Shinkai glances in the captain’s direction, his face
seems relaxed, definitively enjoying the evening. 
After a while and two or three yawns, Izumida gives up the fight and says
goodnight, because of the fatigue but also to give them some space. It’s the
last time their group will experience this.
Toudou starts talking about the past, about the first time he met Fukutomi, the
impactful (the word is loaded) encounter with Arakita. Shinkai’s only half-
listening when the predictable bickering ensues.
“Such a horrible personality.”
“I’m not taking any crap from you, hairband princess.” 
“Take that back!”
“No way.”
“Enough.” As usual, Fukutomi settles the matter.
“You still have the rest of the year to patch things up,” Shinkai says and adds
more quietly “Shouldn’t be that hard if you would just try.” The captain throws
him a skeptical gaze and he represses a laugh; neither of them wants to share a
room with a tornado. Right on cue, as if he’s been reading their minds, Arakita
proposes a new deal.
“Or we could switch roommates. Fuku-chan with me.”
“No! Fuku doesn’t deserve that kind of punishment.”
“Say that again!”
Fukutomi stands up all of a sudden, “I’m staying with Shinkai, end of story and
we’re leaving at nine tomorrow. Get some rest… Good night.”
“Good night.”
Toudou clears his throat, “Hayato? I have something to tell you.” He shots a
glare in his roommate’s direction, “In private.” Arakita rolls his eyes.
“Sure.”
 
Shinkai told Toudou not so long after Fukutomi.  After an amazing, lengthy
monologue about how fulfilling it was to “embrace your inner self” and “being
proud of what you are”, Toudou had summed up his opinion with an unashamed
bluntness: “Less concurrence, I’m glad.” And the climber also sighed
dramatically, “You know what Hayato? Even I thought I couldn’t compete against
you. Do you have any idea how popular you are within my own fanclub?”
With Juichi, it had been awkward at first. He stared blankly, meditating on the
words, Shinkai hadn’t felt so ill at ease since he told the senpai, back then
at the beginning of their second year, that he’d like to decline his number
five spot on the team.
It mattered, what Juichi thought about this.
“I… don’t know what to say.” There were times like these when his friend’s
stoic demeanor could be truly upsetting but then he squashed the doubts right
after. “I’m glad you told me, it’s not something easy to do I suppose?”
“I wanted to tell you sooner but… some other things happened,” Shinkai said
quietly and the tension inside his chest faded.
“It wasn’t only about the accident last year, was it?”
“Hmm… maybe.”
Shinkai didn’t know, still doesn’t. If circumstances had been different maybe
it wouldn’t have counted more, but there’s a good chance it had no impact
whatsoever. The matter of his sexual orientation was only one of the many
things that had disturbed him the year before.
“I’m really glad you told me,” Fukutomi repeated once again, he was bad with
words and knew it but Shinkai understood what they meant.
 
What Toudou has to say is unexpected.
“So, here’s the situation: I had a little chat with a second year, a climber
from Nagano, very good-looking by the way, an 8… he asked…” Toudou pauses, “He
asked if you wouldn’t mind meeting him. For a date.”
Shinkai’s eyes widen, he’s heard the words, connects the implications but he
can’t fathom how his behavior could’ve changed that much; only the race was on
his mind and even before that, in general he’s the same as always. Right… or he
hasn’t realized that he did change after all. He also doesn’t believe in that
gaydar stuff, at least until now, so maybe it’s time to prove him wrong.
“I wonder what gave me up.” Toudou stares back wordlessly, it’s very unusual
and Shinkai can’t help himself. “Maybe he saw me checking you out when you
weren’t looking.” He winks.
“Eh?!”
“Kidding.”
Toudou's flustered but he breathes out with relief and goes on, “He’s really
interested in you and well, because… because… so I thought… anyway, he’s rather
shy and very courageous if you ask me, so maybe-“
“Jinpachi, have you told him I’m gay?”
Shinkai hasn’t informed his parents yet, only Yuuto and his close friends. He’s
been waiting for the end of the In High to avoid any sort of distraction, in
the very unlikely case their reaction won’t be the one he’s expecting.
“I… didn’t deny.” A split second of guilt washes over Toudou’s face at the
admission.
Shinkai sighs heavily but he can’t possibly be mad at something so
insignificant. He shrugs it off, “It’s okay, really, don’t worry about it and
tell him I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll find someone soon… based on what you said.”
“You already like someone, don’t you?”
That startles him. For a person as oblivious and overly emotional as Toudou, he
also has the capacity to hit the nail on the head on occasion, it’s rare but it
happens. And also… how much does he know? Shinkai doesn’t see the necessity to
lie.
“… Yeah.”
Toudou’s face lights up instantly. “Hayato that’s amazing! Do I know him? Who?
Tell me who… can I help? I can help if you need ad-“
“Jinpachi…”
 
They part ways in the corridor, Toudou said that he’ll fall asleep as soon as
he drops on his futon. Good for him. That’s annoyingly not going to happen to
Shinkai, his circadian rhythm doesn’t work that way. His feet lead him outside,
back to the peaceful garden.
 
“Still here?”
Arakita’s face is half obscured. His leg is lifted up casually, supporting his
arm while his chin rest on the back of his hand. He peeks at him from the
corner of his eyes, “I slept too much this afternoon.”  
“How was that Bepsi with Machimiya by the way?”
“Not bad. The guy’s decent once you know him.”
Shinkai approaches and leans to touch Arakita’s wound with the tip of his
fingers, “Sure he is.” It’s a reflex, one of those he should control more
that’s why he withdraws his hand almost immediately and sits at a safe
distance. “He cost you the race though.”
Arakita dismisses the topic quickly, “Nah… never was the goal.”
Shinkai lies down on the engawa so he can watch the night sky. He wanted to do
that since he first saw the secluded spot and the thought of bringing a duvet
and a pillow to stay the whole night here has crossed his mind more than once.
But that’s a pipe dream. The wood under his back is too hard and uncomfortable
and his muscles start aching again. After half a minute he sits up, rubbing his
neck.
His friend watches but doesn’t comment. Something’s off but Shinkai can’t
pinpoint what exactly.
“Have you talked to Juichi?”
“He’s alright, but not sure he’s gonna sleep much tonight.”
“Neither will you or I.”
Arakita grunts in response. Then he moves over, turns and leans against
Shinkai’s shoulder and the side of his back unceremoniously. He adjusts his
position until it fits him and lays his head against Shinkai’s nape, his legs
stretched on the floor.
“Yasutomo, I’m not a pillow.”
“Tch… can’t we stay like that just five minutes? I’m not asking much.”
He is but he doesn’t know. “How convenient for you.” Shinkai is too weary to
oppose, not that will anymore. He’s done. He can deal with rejection, or thinks
he can and they’re about the same at this point, what he needs is to get it
out, to make Arakita understand somehow.
“It’s nice when you finally shut the fuck up,” Arakita says and the tone of his
voice doesn’t match the words, it’s low and kind.
If it’s indeed rejection, fine, he’ll get over it. Never mind if it’s all
muddled in his head, because even with the obvious fact that he can’t get
Arakita out of his system, that doesn’t exclude being unable to label his
feelings clearly. And above all, he’s not old enough to be the wiser, he wants
to stop thinking once and for all, he craves to be able to act on his whims,
his desires, what his body needs.
The rest, the doubts, can go to hell for one night as far as he’s concerned.
“Hey…”
“Hmm?”
“Let me kiss you.”
Shinkai can sense Arakita’s body moving slowly, he’s standing up and has yet to
say something. Maybe he won’t at all, that’ll be as much an answer as any.
Shinkai misses the contact and also the warmth but when he musters enough will
to lift his gaze upward, he feels more than stupid for not realizing sooner.
Yasutomo’s eyes are burning.
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
The sun burns his skin as it did with persistence for the last four days.
Arakita follows his teammates, feet dragging, and his bag dangles precariously
on his left shoulder. The strap threatens to slide down his arm at any misstep.
He slept two hours at most and the first thing he did upon waking up was to
tell Fukutomi he wanted to buy tickets for Koshien. That’s a first.
Last night is a blur, a distant mirage.
Everything burns.
"Where’s Manami?”
"Already in the van.”
Arakita barely hears the voices around him, they’re melting under the heat. He
raises his arm to finally pull the damn strap in place but then, softly,
fingers brushes his elbow and the weight on his shoulder disappear. Shinkai has
taken his bag. Stolen it. Without a glance in his direction, he heads to the
van truck and Arakita can only watch his back in silence. “Tch…” He’s
irritated, as always, when someone dares to come too close, but has no energy
to protest. He doesn’t want to either.
“Juichi, give me yours too.”
“Thanks.”
He tries to see what’s different, if Shinkai is different. He’s not. Only there
in the mess that is Arakita’s mind.
 
It’s about changing, about the details. It’s like walking on a steady line and
realizing that nothing really changed. It was there all along.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
How much more fucking annoying can that guy be?
Asking stupid things.
With his firm hand sneaking under Arakita’s yukata to grab his ass and that
tongue refusing to let him breathe, choking him almost. Lack of oxygen starts
to get to him, so at least he will use that for an excuse and allow the other
to do whatever he wants. It’s a weakness.
Yeah.
Arakita is still one hell of a hypocrite.
The kiss is disgustingly great, wet and forceful, and Shinkai smells so good,
like summer. Arakita follows the lead, he does everything he wants too; his own
hand slides between the fabric of the collar and Shinkai’s shoulder blade,
roaming up and down the bare, ripped back. He feels the muscles, the heated
skin, the sweat, all he wants to touch. That back he could only steal glances
at for months when Shinkai and he were pretending nothing between them existed.
Arakita is unable to remember the moment when they ended up there, retreated in
the shadows, not that he gives a shit right now. He felt relieved, that’s all,
when their hands clasped together and when Shinkai finally pushed him against
that fence.
Shinkai breaks the kiss, only to bite and suck on his lower lip, like when he
did that day on the roadside. Shinkai is an asshole, so Arakita reclaims his
mouth by slipping his tongue between the full lips. Arakita might be an asshole
too. He can feel Shinkai smiling, he’s doomed.
It has always been hard to read his face or guess what he’s thinking, so when
Shinkai seizes Arakita’s arm and brings the palm on his chest, it’s useless to
try. Then he starts biting and kissing his chin, his neck. It tickles. He keeps
sliding their joined hands down, until they’re stroking between Arakita’s legs.
Arakita lets out a muffled moan, he’s dazzled and can’t help staring at a vague
point in the distance. The direction changes and his hand finds itself
clutching Shinkai’s ass too.
He shuts his eyes, the pressure is building up in the pit of his stomach and
his groin incredibly fast and the kissing has stopped. Shinkai’s hair brushes
his cheek and he breathes heavily. It’s spinning like crazy…
“Onoda-san! Look at those flowers.”
They both freeze.
It’s dark, very so. Never mind, Arakita turns livid and gasps but Shinkai
quickly covers his mouth with his hand. Once the initial surprise vanishes, he
starts trembling and Arakita understands that he’s about to burst into a fit of
laughter, he buries his head in Arakita’s neck.
The black-haired boy twitches and grabs locks of ginger hair, trying to tear
them apart, he needs to escape. They fall on the ground loudly and it’s a
miracle the two chatterboxes don’t notice, they’re babbling about crappy
flowers and even crappier Japanese gardens…
Arakita wants to die.
After a few seconds, Shinkai stops his bullshit and calms down; he removes his
hand and lets it rest on Arakita’s chest, his body so heavy and so hot.
Arakita’s still aroused and also pissed. But at long last, Onoda-san (the
fuck!) and her friend walk away, presumably in the direction of the onsen. He
manages to breathe evenly even if his heart still beats so fast under that
burning hand.
Shinkai whispers in his ear. The bastard. “D’you think they’re relat-”
“Don’t…” Arakita grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists. “I’m gonna
break something.”
“What’s the line again? I am stron-“
Arakita shoves him, “Fuck off!” And curses about how fat and heavy Shinkai
supposedly is.
“Ah, sorry.” He sounds a bit guilty and sits up on Arakita’s thighs, but he’s
careful not to crush his bones. The bulge under the yukata makes it obvious
they’re on the same boat.
Shinkai runs a hand through his hair and observes the sky above them, he’s
trying to regain some control on his respiration. He’s disheveled, stunning.
Arakita wasn’t blind before but how could he not see that? He seems to relax
slowly but you have to wonder how he learned to master this unbelievable self-
restrain. But then, it’s not exactly a surprise because Shinkai is good at
concealing what he feels, better than Arakita in any case.
“It’s pretty amazing tonight,” he says after a while. Arakita doesn’t bother to
look up at the sky. “Let’s go back, we can talk tomorrow… Really talk this
time.” Shinkai lowers his gaze to watch him behind wild bangs, his face is
shadowed but Arakita discerns the faint curve of his lips, “I can’t think
clearly at all right now.”
Arakita sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Fuck… He doesn’t want to hear that
but they don’t really have a choice. And fuck…
They scramble on their feet and it’s physically painful, even after all that
because… because of everything. He’s gone too far, how on earth is he supposed
to handle the blast of emotions in his chest? And the rest. They’ve gone much
too far.
Shinkai readjusts his yukata quietly and ties the belt like it’s nothing,
although he’s tenser than usual.
It’s wrong. It feels wrong. Arakita groans, leans forward and supports his
hands on his knees, “I’m not sleeping in that cramped room with a hard-on.” The
words sound hasher than he wanted but that’s not the point. There’s a silence.
“Well that sucks for you.”
The voice is curt and Arakita doesn’t remember the last time he heard that
tone, in fact if his memory is correct, it never happened before. He raises his
head, Shinkai gestures towards the inn, “Bathroom’s all yours.” It’s something
resembling to bitter sarcasm and Arakita doesn’t understand what prompted the
mood swing.
He stands properly, “Wait… what’s up?”
But Shinkai walks away decidedly and his answer is terse, “Figure it out.” He’s
ignoring him.
“That was your idea,” Arakita snaps and it’s enough to make the other stop in
his tracks and sort of lash out in a very Shinkai manner, meaning he’s still
so, so infuriatingly calm.
“Two years and a half in that freaking dorm, sharing rooms and baths together
with close friends. Male friends. Every day changing in the clubroom with naked
guys everywhere. Yes, tell about your frustration Yasutomo… please, enlighten
me.” He shakes his head tiredly, “I’m not mad at you...”
Now that’s… enough. Arakita snatches his arm and doesn’t let go.
 
He has no idea where they’re going, he just leads them through the garden,
hoping to see the end of it and maybe trespass the property if they have to,
behind there’s nature and the lake. They can’t leave the inn without telling
the manager, it’s past eleven and they’re minors. That’s a shitty plan but he
doesn’t care as long as Shinkai doesn’t kick him or dump his stupid ass right
here. But damn, he has to drag that big guy along.
“Yasutomo.”
It’s borderline on desperate and he knows that Shinkai knows that too, the grip
tightens around the wrist. Today was an endless, thrilling struggle, at times
it was a nightmare. Fuku-chan’s dream went south and Arakita didn’t like seeing
Manami’s puffy face at all, even with the carefree smile. What an airhead…
There, in the corner, behind thick bushes. Arakita makes a beeline for what
looks like an old, unused chashitsu. Most likely a storage room and most likely
closed.
“Yasu… what are you-” Shinkai’s voice trails off when the door rattles open.
Arakita can’t quite believe it, this is their last chance tonight. Shinkai was
right; life in the dorm and being part of the most stressful high school
cycling team of all fucking Japan means no spare time, no privacy, no flirts.
No sex.  
They deserve better.
It’s not that bad inside, clean and tidy in fact, not as dark as it seemed
first but now that they are entrapped here, Arakita has no clue about what to
do with himself. Shinkai does, however, and moves closer to embrace him.
 
 
Arakita thought that they would resume where they left things but he’s wrong.
When he tries to tug on the yukata and undress him his hands are gently pushed
away.
Shinkai takes a step back, “I’ve read your medical report and you’ve seen mine…
and… about…” he stares expectantly. When Arakita says nothing he tilts his head
and explains, “I don’t have STDs.”
Arakita sputters and then punches him in the shoulder, “Me neither bastard!”
“Just to make sure.”
Arakita wants to punch him in the face this time but then Shinkai kisses him
again, fiercely. It’s more erratic and he’s trailing down the collarbone with
hands pressing and clutching forearms and hips until he’s kneeling. Arakita
flinches when Shinkai unties the belt and then slips his briefs down over his
legs.
The back of his head makes contact with the door in a dull sound, that won’t
help stopping the dizziness or his racing heart. Shinkai’s hands are
everywhere.
Although he went far with a girl from his hometown once, that part is new
territory, it happened before meeting Fukutomi, bicycles and ending up in the
same room as the annoying Beauty. It was before someone like Shinkai came
along, now on his knees and about to put Arakita’s cock in his mouth.
“I’ve never…” Arakita doesn’t look at him.
“First time too, probably gonna be lousy,” Shinkai isn’t embarrassed, he’s just
stating a fact, but there’re hints of anxiety intertwining the words.
“Shut up.”
His voice is barely audible. He can’t tell if it’s bad when Shinkai starts
kissing his skin, near his navel, he bites too, or when the tongue slides along
the length; it feels amazing to him. Blame exhaustion or the fact that it’s
Shinkai doing this.
When he finally wraps his lips around Arakita’s cock, it’s hesitant but not
clumsy, although there’s that instant gag reflex that makes him pull off.
“Sorry,” Shinkai says impatiently and then takes him again, more determined.
Why the hell is he apologizing?… Dumbass.
Arakita manages to keep it mostly quiet, he has pride. It doesn’t last. It’s
then, when the nervousness dissolves and his tensed shoulders relax that
Arakita starts to really enjoy it. There’s pleasure and more pleasure.
Shinkai’s nails will leave marks on his hip.
His cock grows longer sliding into the wet of his mouth, when Arakita dares to
look down he watches as the lips work their way up and down his shaft, Shinkai
uses his hand too. Arakita bites his lip and thinks he’s actually dying.  His
breath quickens but there’s a sense of panic in the back of his mind when he
can’t hold back the moans anymore and needs Shinkai’s shoulder for support.
Arakita grips Shinkai’s forearm, “Stop…” he whispers in a strangled voice and
Shinkai pulls out, leaving a trail of heat behind. Arakita grabs himself with
one hand and begins to jerk himself off. It won’t last long, not after all the
bullshit earlier. A few quick pulls are enough before his full body shudders
and the orgasm washes over him.
The after-effects begin to subside, Arakita exhales loudly, his hand is a
sticky fucking mess and his face is flushed, burning actually. Even in the
dark, he feels so exposed under Shinkai’s gaze.
Arakita needs some time to gather himself and when he does the first thing he
sees is a blazing blue.
 
“Are you going to touch me or what, Yasutomo?”
Damn…
“… I’m watching.”
Shinkai’s smile looks forced, he’s breathless from excitement or impatience.
“Who knew you were a perv.”  Still, there’s enough confidence left in those
eyes.                                                                   
“Hey, how about you shut it for good?” Arakita feels the tenseness of the
muscles under his fingertips, he traces along the abdomen, below the rib cage.
His other hand firmly holds on the thigh, where the skin is even warmer.
Shinkai has a small birth mark near his left armpit, one you can only notice at
this distance.
They’re sitting face to face, Shinkai’s legs spread over his own and around
Arakita’s waist. Arakita watches avidly. At some point, Shinkai sighs, he has
had enough and reaches over, grabbing Arakita’s wrist and presses the palm of
his hand on his cock. Arakita feels very smug about this but says nothing, he
wraps it around the length and his partner sets the pace.
They end up kissing, Shinkai fists his hand into Arakita’s hair to pull him
closer, he emits little moans now and then, and his back flexes under Arakita’s
other hand. This can very well become an addiction, caressing that back.
With each spasm of pleasure Shinkai holds on him with more insistence. His
tongue presses deeply into Arakita’s mouth when he comes. 
 
Yasutomo’s head never stopped spinning.
 
After that, exhaustion hits them like a sledgehammer.
 
 
“It’s true that when your body is tired it makes everything more nerve
wrecking.”
“Makes everything more pathetic you mean.” Arakita finishes wiping his hands
clean with his underwear, that’s the pathetic part. That stuff needs to end up
in the depth of the trash can outside.
Shinkai laughs lightly, “That too.” His forehead falls against Arakita’s sweaty
hair and it’s the easiest thing in the world to lose oneself in all of this,
even on the brink of exhaustion Arakita gets it. It’s crashing down all inside
his head. 
His eyes set on the ceiling and the weird patterns in the wood. Not completely
at the right place to clear his mind, it works somehow.
“It’s been more than friendship for me since that time...” Arakita’s chest
tightens; trust Shinkai to always throw him off-kilter. He continues, “And I
wasn’t lying, I like nice guys.”
“… Okay,” Arakita mutters.
“Okay what?”
“I wanna try too… but no holding hands or sappy stuff, that’s so fucking
lame...”
Shinkai remains silent and with every passing second it makes Arakita doubt.
Time is suspended.
“Oi, did ya hear what I just-“
“I did.” Shinkai straightens himself and faces him. “But… You see, there’s that
handsome climber from Nagano.” He tilts his head and winks, amused, “An
eight...”
What. The. Actual f…Arakita’s temple throbs with the menace of a looming
headache… Of course…Toudou… He jabs him in the arm and his (more than) friend
falls on his side, complaining and shit and Arakita just keeps shoving him but
not really, actually he’s trying to pin him on the floor. Shinkai lets him.
Hayato and his lidded eyelids, his mouth half open, his lips still swollen.
Arakita allows himself to trace them slowly with his knuckles until the other
starts squirming under him.
“My legs hurt like hell,” he admits with a soft smile.
Arakita kisses him.
 
They return to the ryokan enveloped in a serene silence.
Stopping by the bathroom, they wash their hands and faces, scrub the stains on
their yukata and occasionally glance at each other through the mirror. Shinkai
drinks a few gulps of water while Arakita waits next to the door. Shinkai is a
mess, they both are, with droplets sliding down his cheeks, his neck. With his
sleepy eyelids losing their battle and his limbs that barely keep him standing.
“That’s it, that’s my limit,” he supports himself on the sink and the look in
his eyes is silently imploring Arakita to do something about it, to carry him
perhaps.
“In your dreams.”  
 
                                     o-o-o
 
Shinkai tries his hardest to concentrate on his math problem; he reads and
rereads the equation, scribbles three lines, then restarts. He’s hungry too,
that makes for a bad combination and puts him on edge.
Someone approaches, he’s recognized the characteristic nervousness and next,
Arakita is standing in front of his desk. It’s rare to see him here, in
Shinkai’s classroom, during lunch break no less, but he can’t afford being
distracted. That’s why his eyes stay riveted on his task and his energy bar.
“Hi.”
“Toudou’s going home, tonight.”
Shinkai stops writing.
“If it’s a joke, it’s not funny Yasu.”
It’s been two weeks since the end of the summer holidays and Shinkai has more
or less given up the idea of having his privacy back. They managed to steal
some time; half an hour on the school roof or behind the clubroom or in a
corner of the dormitory when nobody was here. Not much. Also, lunch and movie
dates are always wrecked by their kouhai or teammates.
Arakita slams his hand on Shinkai’s math book, “I’m dead serious. And stop
calling me that.”
Shinkai looks up and yes, he is. He has that nice determination in his eyes
too. That means… “What about Juichi?”
“He’s your rommie, deal with him.”
“What if he wants to hang out with you?”
“I’ll tell him I’m studying.”
“What if he wants to study with you?”
Arakita has been on edge too and it was visible for anyone around his
periphery. Fukutomi blamed the sour mood on the In High, Toudou on the late
summer heat but Manami said something disturbing to Shinkai the other day;
“There’s something different… did you have a fight with Arakita-san?” It’s
Manami, you never know where you stand with him, so he hasn’t given it much
thought.
Now Arakita’s annoyed expression turns into a glare, he’s attractive when he
does that. “Hey, don’t you ever underestimate my capacity to be an asshole.”
“Right.”
“Be there at seven, I’m going to the convenience store to buy… stuff.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Shinkai catches his sleeves and Arakita pauses. “We never
discussed about, you know… positions.”
Arakita’s eyes widen in horror and he turns aside to see if anyone heard, “You…
bastard!” Shinkai watches as a light color shades his cheeks. “Either way’s
fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” He’s pissed.
“How about both? I mean not tonight… obviously…” Shinkai tests the water. He’s
been thinking about it for a while, that’s what he wants. The whole experience.
He also has to repress the urge to pull on Arakita’s loose tie and kiss him.
The truth is that it’s been a rollercoaster since last month, the highs are
very high but Shinkai can’t ignore the almost total absence of lows that should
lurk at the corner. It’s a bit scary. Maybe because they waited for so long,
they’re unrestrained when left alone.
Arakita blinks several times, “Fine...” And before Shinkai can do something
disastrous he leaves in a hurry, “Later.”
 
 
***** Chapter 6 *****
People always said he had stamina problems and they were right. Was it the
natural course of events that had led to this situation or a twisted turn of
fate that it happened at the worst possible moment? No matter what, he brought
this upon himself and his teammates had seen right through him when Arakita
stamped on the clod and took his position on the mound, sweating like a pig
under his cap and short of breath.
The crowd had chosen the underdog’s camp, cheering even under the suffocating
heat and chanting at the top of their lungs, "Kinjou, Kinjou, Kinjou!” The more
they did, the more Arakita felt the blood pumping in his veins and his
heartbeat quickening with the enough amount of adrenaline he needed to stay
focused on the game.
“Arakita you can let him hit, we’ll save your ass!”
“Shut your trap!” If he was still able to bark at Toudou then he wasn’t done
yet.
“Arakita-san we’ve got your back!”
Arakita threw a quick glance towards the pen where Manami was warming up, the
oddball waved at him with a lazy hand, he knew next to nothing about fear or
the pressure of having to live up to the expectation. Arakita’s eyes drifted on
the red-head shorty on first base, bouncing with impatience and ready to steal
the next one. With Tadokoro on deck and Imaizumi following behind the whole
field resembled more a bullring than a regular diamond. And of course there was
Kinjou, a marble statue with his bat on the shoulder, with a piercing gaze
under the protective glasses and his freakish iron will. What a pain… Arakita
smirked; he had to strike them out, one by one.
Fukutomi shifted, made the signal and positioned his mitt on the low inside
corner but Arakita shook his head and for an instant wondered if their usual
flawless battery would face its first major crisis. The catcher stared a grand
total of five seconds and then nodded. Open stance, free choice. Arakita
inhaled deeply and threw a fastball. “Steal!”  High in the zone, just as he had
planned. The shrimp lacked experience and they were aiming for double play if
Kinjou couldn’t hit that ball decently. All planned… and all gone a second
later when the bat made contact with the leather in a deafening bang.
But it wasn’t Kinjou standing in the left batter’s box, torso and arms swinging
with a perfect combination of fluidity, precision and power. Shinkai drew an
invisible circle and sent the ball flying over Arakita’s head, far above the
ground.
His bat fell on the dirt and he started running, fist in air.
Someone in the distance shouted “Home-run!” and Arakita’s mouth fell agape when
he saw the treacherous number on the back of the white jersey with blue straps.
4. Pitch-black and blinding him as much as the inscrutable smile. When
Shinkai’s eerily, red irises found him, Arakita felt a sudden pain in his right
arm… where his injury ached… if he dared to look down he could see it… right
there… his broken limb.
 
Arakita wakes up with a start and clutches his elbow. Intact. He’s drooling on
his English notebook and when he attempts to move, his neck hurts with a
horrible torticollis.  Lifting up his glassy eyes he sees the mild disapproval
on Fukutomi’s face. They’re in the library, studying. Correction: his friend
is. Arakita presses his forehead against the table and mumbles to himself,
“Sinker… should’ve done that…”
“Was that supposed to mean something?”       
Arakita sneers, he’s lost a few brain cells during that dream. “No.” But
Fukutomi would’ve made a great catcher. He hauls himself in a sitting position
and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “What’s that for?” he asks with a blatant
lack of interest, Fukutomi is surrounded by ominous piles of books and papers.
“Entrance exam for Meisou.”
“Do you even need to take it?” He snorts, “They’ll let you in right away.”
“Have you made your choice?”
Arakita hardly had the time to think about university. Since the In-High, his
attention span has dropped a few notches; he can’t seem to concentrate on
things that aren’t related to extra activities and sprinters. It’s getting
worse these days.
“My choice doesn’t matter if I fail the exam.”
Fukutomi offers his best ‘work harder, I won’t pity you’ expression. Fuku-chan,
role model. Truly. But even if Arakita does fail, he’ll be a ronin next year
and that’s it, though he can already picture his father’s angry mug in his
head. He’s browsed Yonan’s website three times, no one knows, no one needs to,
the entrance examination for that one isn’t a walk in the park.
“Meisou doesn’t have my courses, plus… I’m always up for new challenges,”
That’s one of reason he’s eager to go separate ways. “Fuku-chan you’re raising
the bar really high you know, I prefer competing against you next time around.”
Fukutomi looks up, surprised but also… pleased, perhaps.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
 
                                     o-o-o
                                        
The cadence hasn’t diminished since their departure. Arakita takes risky
angles, as usual, and Fukutomi perceives a dose of apprehension from the
freshmen who aren’t accustomed to his unorthodox style, at the limit of
dangerousness. Today's program started with half an hour on the rollers and
then the climbers took the hills while their group of sprinter and all-rounders
engaged in a team time trial. After that, the regulars on the team took over
and Shinkai pulled first with all his power. Most of the riders had trouble
following him, the gap is still too wide.
Fukutomi raises a hand and Izumida replaces Arakita, after a few minutes he
turns to observe the others.
“Fuku-chan you’re too lenient.”
He’s right. “Izumida, accelerate.”
“How much?”
“Keep reserves for two more laps.”
When the speed increases a couple of unhappy noises arise from behind and
Arakita doesn’t lose time, “Oi rookies, stop bitching and pedal faster!”
Fukutomi glances at Shinkai in the last position, either someone will be bold
enough to start the sprint or they’ll try to catch up to him. They ride two
kilometers at this pace, close to the finish line. Five hundred meters, four
hundred. No one dares… Shinkai launches his attack from the left side. He never
does that during training and even if he overcame the obstacle, Fukutomi never
asked him to, that’s on his own accord and it pays off, since all including
Izumida and Arakita hadn’t seen it coming. The ones who can keep up will be
those to watch closely.
Doubashi does but loses in the end by five meters.
Fukutomi remembers the few first times in middle school when he was left behind
too, he had never seen someone so young and so fast. He knows a couple of
riders as fast as him, but Shinkai, he’s a natural athlete, he can achieve much
more, the possibilities are limitless. 
“Good work,” Fukutomi reaches him while their kouhai catch their breath. “You
don’t have to do that.”
“I know but I want to.”
He seems calm like always and also smiles, but Izumida examines him closely and
Shinkai pats him on the back with reassurance, “I’m ok.”
“D’you still need me?” Arakita has joined them too.
“No you’re done for today, both of you.” Fukutomi needs to observe how Izumida
deals with the new responsibilities and how he manages the team. Arakita and
Shinkai slow down and the rest of the riders gather together.
He turns to look over his shoulder one last time, and again there’s that
feeling, coming from the knowledge that something has changed but he can’t be
sure, for all he knows his friends didn’t have a fight as Manami suggested. The
distance grows between the main group and them. Fukutomi notices the invisible
line between the two, it’s cautious, almost calculated but not quite. Arakita
drinks and Shinkai pulls off his helmet, nothing out of the ordinary or
abnormal but… there’s that impression he can’t shake off.
 
They’re alone. Shinkai zips down his jersey and rides no-handed, Arakita
glances at him from time to time, he’s quiet in appearance but has obviously a
lot on his mind or he wants to start a conversation Shinkai prefers to avoid,
and he won’t hesitate doing that. He will always hate that left side. But
instead Arakita reads the mood and chooses another topic.
“Does it still hurt?”
Shinkai laughs, he saw it coming and yet the way Arakita can sometimes be so
predictable makes it hard not to and he doesn’t take it well, if a single glare
could punch you then this one would do just fine. Shinkai had the bad idea of
telling him he was sore the day after, nothing relevant or concerning, he blurt
it out for the sake of information, for Arakita’s sake. He should worry about
his own butt in the future.
“It wasn’t as bad as you make it. I don’t understand what your point is
Yasutomo, if you’re trying to make one,” Shinkai squints, “Is it about your
ego?”
“Hah?! Idiot! It looked painful for you that’s what I’m saying… tch… and what’s
wrong with having some pride?”
Pride, right. Arakita’s under the impression that there’s kind of a problem if
the sex wasn’t that great the other night. For sure Shinkai hadn’t anticipated
anything earthshaking beforehand, that’s the best way to avoid disappointment.
Two inexperienced teens sneaking around between supper and curfew, even with
the door locked, the corridor was as noisy as always. Shinkai wouldn’t have
done better; does he need to spit it out so Arakita can give it a rest? It’s
been two days already.
“Only at first and yesterday morning, how many times do I have to tell you?” 
Besides, for Shinkai, some things should be left unsaid. He doesn’t know how to
put sensations into words and it’s stupid anyway. As for what actually
happened, if it was quick, if Arakita was unsure, even if everything had gone
wrong, and it wasn’t the case, Shinkai couldn’t care less. He glances on his
right, Arakita’s sulking. They haven’t improved their communication skills at
all.
Fine, he’ll play along.
“That’s my fault too. When I showed up at your door I was already tensed.
 After classes I had to sneak in the dorm supervisor’s bathroom before anyone
could see me and then I started to panic because of the things I've read: if I
needed an enema or if washing normally was enough, if you had brought the right
stuff and then I had to remember which position hurts less and... well... that
whole thing about taking it up the ass for the first time. I'm not immune to
stress, you know.”
The blood drains from Arakita’s face. "Enema?"
Shinkai isn’t lying, that’s the hilarious part. "If we are going to talk about
it, let's do it frankly. No matter how much you think you are ready, the real
thing’s just that more intimidating, what can we do?"
Arakita stays quiet for a while, eyes cast on the asphalt, maybe he’s expecting
enlightenment from it? Shinkai has to bite on his lip, it’s fascinating how he
effectively managed to confuse him.
“… Next time we switch… You know about that stuff better than me…”
"Giving up so soon?" He can be stubborn too and he knows how to provoke a
reaction from his partner. Arakita’s jaw clenches but before he says anything
else, Shinkai turns right towards a narrow lane surrounded by cypress trees, he
gets off his bike, places it on his shoulder and starts climbing.
"Shinkai!?"
The forecasts have announced a torrential rain in the evening, they can afford
a little leisure time under the sun, there’s a view on Fujisan up there. He
throws a glance behind him, Arakita’s still on his bike, gripping the
handlebars, a sharp scowl on his face, like he’s been born into the world angry
at anything and anyone.
"We're off the hook," Shinkai shrugs and shows the landscape around them, "No
race or competition for months... I need a nap."
It’s up to Arakita to take the bait or not.
 
Arakita wraps the lock of hair around his finger, the blue streaks mix with the
reddish-brown, he thinks it’s superficial and flashy but isn’t going to bring
up hair styles, unless he wants the pompadour episode thrown at his face.
Shinkai’s head feels heavy on his chest, but it’s nice, being this close and
alone. “Since when d’you know you’re gay?” Arakita asks without thinking.
“Twelve.” 
All this time?
“And you?”
“I’m not gay.” Shinkai nudges him in the ribs gently and rolls his head to
stare, unimpressed. Arakita chuckles, “Ain’t that obvious?” 
“Really?” The blue eyes are shinning.
There are events Arakita didn’t understand before, not consciously, but now
it’s evident what they meant at the time. He takes a breath, “That batter in
junior high… He could hit home-runs on almost every pitch and the coach often
ordered us to let him walk,” he snorts and watches the trees and the slow-
moving clouds above them, “I hated his guts so much that I swore I would strike
him out the next time I’d see him and of course the bastard hit the best ball I
could pitch that day… and everyone was watching that ball, how far it went, how
fast, how high and I…” the irony isn’t lost on him, “I was just watching him…”
“But you still prefer girls.”
It’s not a question and Arakita can’t object, it’s the truth. He can count on
one hand guys who could possibly turn him on and there’s only one person he’s
willing to try everything with. And he doesn’t know what sex with a woman feels
like. He thinks about it, he’s curious, and hasn’t stopped checking out his
classmates. Boobs are fucking nice to look at. That’s a normal reaction, he
supposes, and still no gay porn for him.
What he knows clearly however, is that it’s easy with Shinkai, he brushes aside
pitiful stuff like when Arakita struggled to maintain his erection the other
night. He gets it. Arakita doesn’t have to embarrass himself with pointless
explanations and he’s so... It sucked overall but there were moments when
Arakita felt it wasn’t a disaster either, far from it. He must be a slow
learner and hates it; at least Shinkai has patience for both.
“Something’s missing,” Shinkai sits up and leans over him, he traces his
fingers along Arakita’s neck, “Here.” He whispers something else, Arakita only
catches two words, ‘silver’ and ‘sisters’.
Earlier, when Shinkai talked about the ‘real thing’ Arakita had been struck by
the words and there’s more, much more, every day. They talk about meaningless
stuff or don’t talk at all. They play games, they bitch about Sada-sama the
math teacher (Arakita does), they watch movies, they prank Manami with Toudou
and Kuroda when he’s late.
They spend a lot of time together, more than they ever had. Shinkai starts
kissing him, he’s still heavy, crushing him, and Arakita doesn’t care.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
Fukutomi’s done dressing and waits for Arakita who’s engaged in a battle with
his necklace clasp. He angrily wipes the fogging on the small mirror that hangs
inside his locker to have a better view of what he’s doing.
Ashikiba hovers near them, scanning the room, the climbers came back only
moments ago and they’ve rushed into the showers. “Excuse me, do you know where
I can find Izumida-kun?”
“Nope, ask the manager or Hayato,” Arakita says.
Fukutomi lifts his head and meets Ashikiba’s puzzled gaze. “Um… you mean
Shinkai-san?”
Arakita hasn’t noticed the slip of the tongue, enthralled in his own
predicament, and ogles at their kouhai with suspicion. “That’s what I just
said.” He doesn’t add dumbass and Fukutomi’s grateful for that small favor. The
second year turns to him for help, too polite or afraid to contradict an
upperclassman with an attitude.
“Izumida is in the coach’s office.”
“Thank you.”
The mystery’s solved.
Arakita has always been more complex than people give him credit for and if
Fukutomi had doubts before, they’re definitively buried now. Is it troubling
him? In a way yes, but not for the reasons he anticipated. One minute you
believe you know someone, or that you’ve learned to know them well, and then
they reinvent themselves without you knowing anything at all.
Those kinds of relationships, Fukutomi never gave them a thought. He never had
time for that.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
“I would like you to read this,” Fukutomi hands him a leaflet as soon as he
steps inside the room. “Their facilities are one of the best in the country and
many former students from Hakone went there.”
Shinkai recognizes the name, they’ve discussed about it long time ago, back in
middle school. “And your father,” he flips it carelessly, “Is the cafeteria’s
menu in it?”
Fukutomi doesn’t deign to answer, his features set in stone, and Shinkai hasn’t
sunk so low to laugh at his own stupid jokes. His roommate puts his bag on his
desk, he’s going to study, starting with geography. He has a stable routine,
contrasting with Shinkai who chose his bed to do his homework and how he
randomly switches between Japanese history and science. Shinkai unfolds the
document… Meisou, tough one. Once again he has to work his ass off to keep up
with his friend.
“I know about you and Arakita.”
They have a baseball team in Meisou… Shinkai can’t read the next sentence.
“Did he tell you?”
“Of course not.”
He doesn’t know why but the feeling settles in his chest, he’s on the
defensive, he can’t help it. “It won’t affect the team.”
“Do you really believe I only care about the team?” And finally Shinkai dares
to face him, Fukutomi seems genuinely concerned and… hurt.
“No.”
“I figured it out by accident and you’ve just confirmed it, I think it’s only
fair to let you two know but I haven’t talk to Arakita yet.” Fukutomi sits on
his chair and Shinkai isn’t sure he wants to hear whatever he has to say, not
tonight, it’s going to rain soon…
“When you told me you were gay… I was shocked. Not because you are but once
again I hadn’t seen anything, much like the time you dropped off the team
before our first In-High. It made me question myself and our friendship, what
kind of person I was for not seeing what was in front of me. That’s why I’m
putting extra effort to be more attentive… And I never apologized for not
bringing the victory home… we made a promise after all.”
He’s done talking and waits for a reaction, a word. Something.
How the hell did come up with that?
Shinkai runs a nervous hand through his hair, “Juichi!” He’s always made fun of
his best friend’s awkwardness but he conveniently forgot his own shortcomings,
that bad habit of keeping everything to himself. “That’s not how it was, you
know that, even my family didn’t have a clue. And… are you seriously blaming
yourself? Because you shouldn’t, not for that or the In-High or… anything.”
Fukutomi’s frown softens, “It’s none of my business but you are both my closest
friends. I don’t know how to express these things… contrary to what you may
think I can be a good listener,” he insists on the last part, “In case you need
one.”
So pushy…Shinkai feels his cheeks becoming red. “I… honestly don’t know where
this thing is going… with Yasutomo, but…” he stops, because no words come to
his mind. Or maybe they do but that’s too personal.
“Is it a fling?” Fukutomi asks.
“No… not at all.”
“I see.”
Does he? They’re a good pair and Shinkai can’t imagine the future without
riding alongside him, winning and losing together. He stands and puts the
leaflet on Fukutomi’s desk, “Looks good enough.”
“You haven’t finished reading.”
“I don’t need to, Meisou it is. As long as Imai-kun doesn’t follow us.”
Fukutomi stiffens and stares at him, “Don’t jinx us.” But there’s no mistake,
he’s relieved. Maybe he thought Shinkai had changed his mind, that he forgot
that promise. He didn’t, it never crossed his mind not to be on same team
anymore.
“Hadano, Hakone and Meisou, that’ll be ten years. Aren’t you tired of me?”
Fukutomi doesn’t answer at first, he rearranges his books and pencils quietly.
“You’ve improved in algebra, good for you,” he glances sideways and hands him
his math notebook, “Strong or not you need a miracle.”
There’s nothing else to do but laugh, that’s not often Juichi tries to sass him
and they’re both god-awful at this.
 
Shinkai runs as fast as he can under the pouring rain, feet deep in the puddles
and the mud, with the thunder in the distance.
He kneels down and opens the cage. Usakichi’s curled up in a corner, her body
trembling, fearful, he reaches out and waits for her to get used to his smell,
then he takes her in his arms, against his chest and covers her with his
raincoat. Maybe if she feels his heartbeat it will distract her from the storm.
He has always liked thunder and the rain too, that's why he stays under the
eaves at the entrance of the dormitory and watches the darkening horizon. Just
a moment, Usakichi doesn’t like it at all. She’ll sleep in his room tonight, no
one will mind.
Shinkai’s about to go inside when the door opens brusquely and Arakita almost
bumps into him, he rubs his neck and seems restless. “Geez… I’m missing supper
because of you.” He peeks inside Shinkai’s coat, sniggering when Usakichi
flinches after another bolt in the sky but it’s not mean-spirited.
“I talked with Fuku-chan.”
Fukutomi probably went to him right after Shinkai left the room; he’s never
been one to sit on a personal issue, regardless if the people involved are
unwilling to discuss about the matter.
“And?”
Arakita clicks his tongue, irritated. “Wasn’t long.” That’s not a surprise, the
conversation must’ve been incredibly short indeed. “He’s too awkward and
freaking formal… like a geezer… Man needs to chill.” 
“That’s his way of showing you he cares.”
Arakita shrugs, ill at ease, but the beginning of a smile forms on his lips,
“We’re good.” He stares at him then a quick, impatient hand lowers the hood of
Shinkai’s raincoat, Arakita presses a kiss on the corner of his mouth. They’re
in front of the dorm and even if most of the students are in the cafeteria,
he’s pushing their luck and knows it.
Shinkai discovers how astoundingly calm he feels about that fact and, even if
he’s not keeping tabs on the numbers, that’s one too many times he has fallen.
It’s endless. Usakichi quivers when another rumble and the cracklings in the
sky announce the next wave of lightening. The flashes reflect on the lean, pale
face. Arakita isn’t handsome. He’s brash, rude, can’t be bothered with tender
gestures or affection. Arakita doesn’t blink when the elements unleash their
rage.
Shinkai is in love, so he tells him.
 
***** Intermission *****
“You’re too stubborn Arakita.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
“Whatever, are you going to do something about it?!”
“No.”
“Arakita listen-“
“I get it Toudou! Dammit… now, can you just keep pedaling in silence because my
head’s about to implode with you talking shit during our last ride together or
d’ya wanna attend graduation ceremony with a shiner on your ugly face?”
“HEY!!”
“Toudou, shut up.”
“Thanks Fuku-chan.”
 
===============================================================================
 
                                     Yonan
Sexless youth… Aging population… Birthrate statistics…
Her name is Miki and she talks a lot.
It’s supposed to be a goukon… What the fuck is this?
At some point she asks Arakita if he’s a herbivore man which he’s most
definitively not and he has zero opinion about the future of the country as
long as he can ride a bike and earn a living after university. But he has to
admit that half of the girls he’s dealt with since moving there are icy queens
and have no interest in hooking up; somehow he can’t blame them when half of
the guys are too busy avoiding them.
He hasn’t met lots of girls though and who on earth still participate in
goukons nowadays? Miki apparently, who looks as bored as him. The conversation
shifts to different subjects, fast, and somehow comes back to dating, the lack
of realistic expectations about marriage and the truth about first loves.
Verdict: they suck. First time sex too. Exes show up, she keeps chatting about
the one she’s had in high school.
She dumped him for obscure reasons before graduation.
“Me too,” Arakita hears himself say, must be the effects of alcohol or a
gigantic lapse of judgement. She’s a stranger, it doesn’t matter. “I dated a
guy in high school,” he shrugs with indifference and looks right into her eyes,
“swing both ways.”
After a silence and a blank stare, he’s already anticipating the same reaction
he faces 99% of the time, that reminds him briefly he should shut his big
mouth. But she doesn’t seem to be put off, she’s not like any girl he’s met so
far. Not clingy or cute, a bit selfish but assured, not the type to take shit
from anyone. She has several piercing on her left ear, long dark hair. Nice
skin. Not much curves but that doesn’t mean anything and she’s not gentle or
maybe she is in her own way.
She’s different, she doesn’t have weird colored streaks in her hair.
Miki sips on her beer, “I kissed a girl once, not my thing but it was hot.”
Ask her number... ask her number…
Arakita curses himself the instant the words come out. “So… wha’… what’re you
studying exactly?”
 
                                    Meisou
“That’s why I don’t date bisexuals, they always end up breaking your heart even
if they don’t want to.”
“Says the guy who goes after straight co-workers.”
Yoshimura-san stares at the owner with false innocence and Shinkai can see that
Wakao-san’s patience is wearing thin, arms tightly crossed on his chest and his
face contorted in annoyance. Their comfortable banter reminds him of other
times and other people in another place.
“Precisely, feelings never come up in the conversation when they agree.”
“They’re not really straight then,” Wakao says flatly.
“You have a point.”
“Stop spewing nonsense before my customers!”
Yoshimura ignores him, smirking, and turns to Shinkai, “And what do you think,
Hayato-kun?”
“I’ll pass.”
Wakao’s restaurant is the only gay establishment not so far from the campus
that isn’t a bar or a club, it became quickly one of Shinkai’s favorite spot to
hang out on the rare occasion he can afford to escape his maddening schedule.
Not only because of the food, even if the katsudon’s always near perfect, but
because the owner has made the atmosphere cozy and simple.
“Leave him, kid has a competition tomorrow.”
“What sport?” Yoshimura is in his late twenties or older maybe, apparently he
likes the quiet ambience too, Shinkai’s met him a couple of months ago but
tonight they’ve spoken for the first time.
“Road racing.”
He has also learned to draw the line with other men during his freshman year,
more often than he thought he needed to. It’d felt clumsy at the beginning,
dealing with the straightforwardness of the propositions, something he’s not
sure he’ll ever get used to. Thankfully he could rely on his easygoing nature
to reject even the most persistent guys with two words and a smile. That’s why
he more or less gave up on bars but right now, in a different context, he can’t
find any reason why he shouldn’t go for it.
Still, Shinkai’s not talkative tonight, Yoshimura doesn’t insist and lets him
finish eating in peace. It’s getting late anyway and he has practice early,
when he’s done he stands up quickly. “Thanks for the meal Wakao-san.”
“Knock ‘em down.”
He nods thinking that the challenge tomorrow won’t be that easy.
“Good luck,” says the other man without looking at him.
Shinkai lingers an instant. Well… why not? “It was nice talking to you.”
Yoshimura turns to face him, not expecting that obviously. “Likewise.”
 
===============================================================================
 
“It’s no one else business but mine.”
“Yeah but… you could meet someone that isn’t… you know…”
“Know what?”
“I mean a guy different from a random hook up in a gay bar. Someone your age.”
“I don't have the time and it’s not like that… at all. Actually it sounds
creepy the way you say it.”
“Then why did you tell me if it’s no one else business but yours?”
“Yuuto, drop it I’m really fine.”
 
                                     o-o-o
 
The picture is stupid like any picture of a grown-up bunny atop mount Hakone
would be. And the message accompanying it is even stupider.
 
11.23 pm - Number 4: ‘Happy 20th B! wish you all the bepsi in the world and
more’
 
11.35 pm - Me: ‘idiot’
11.36 pm - Me: ‘thanks’
 
11.41 pm - Number 4: ‘Did you just thank me? how nice. Juichi’ll give you my
present btw, good night birthday boy’
 
Arakita stares at his phone five long minutes, he hates birthday parties but he
can’t escape the dinner his friends have planned in two days... but still.
Arakita sighs. ‘Good night’ is enough. It’s been enough for more than a year,
that one big reason why he shouldn’t act on what he’s thinking right now and
opt for the safer option. Avoiding complicated situations has been the safer
bet since day one. But he’s always leaning on the impulsive side so Arakita
calls him. He hasn’t heard Shinkai’s voice since before spring break, the last
time they saw each other was at the newcomers’ race.
And of course he's nervous.
“Dealing with you makes me nervous.”
“Is that so?”          
“Dealing with you will always make me nervous.”
It’s too late to back off though and before the other can utter a word Arakita
cuts him sharply, “Dumbass.” Shinkai starts laughing, in fact he doesn’t greet
him either. It’s a hearty laugh, at least that hasn’t changed.
“That’s why you’re calling me?”
“Someone has to remind you.”
“How rude.”
“You went all the way back to Hakone for that picture or what?”
“Yuuto took it and he had much fun apparently, you should thank him too. See
how Usakichi’s all grown up now, just like you.” He exhales deeply, “What it’s
like being an adult?”
“Fucking great, I can go bar hopping.”
“Amazing,” Shinkai says with a soft voice.
There are details Arakita never bothered to notice before, soft-spoken people
tend to leave no effect on him and usually their voices fade in the background
unless the person says something of importance. Shinkai has always been a
glaring exception. Sometimes it’s like a thorn, his voice, because he’s never
irritated or blunt or dismissive. Arakita believes it’s a growing indifference
and that’s the worst, or maybe he’s overthinking again.
Arakita likes changes, new objectives, he likes to look ahead, it’s a driving
force from within and he knows himself enough to acknowledge that
he can’t change this part of his personality, even if he tried. The people you
left behind and, in reverse, the ones who also left you behind, it’s come full
circle. How long did it take for Arakita to finally get it? Once his head had
been freed of the bullshit he’s been feeding his thoughts, he had the luxury of
a full a year to think back and remember, Arakita doesn’t believe it’s regret
but the feeling’s close enough to confuse him relentlessly. He misses many
things, his peace of mind on top of the list.
“Did you watch Milan-San Remo?”
“Yeah,” Arakita notices that he sounds tired. “The senpai record all the races,
it’s like being surrounded by twenty Juichi, can you imagine?”
Sure he can: Yonan’s freaks, that’s how Arakita calls them, Kinjou included.
“Oi, still awake?”
“There’s a criterium tomorrow afternoon and we practiced hard the whole week, I
need my seven hours.”
Shinkai has landed a starter position on the team this year, he deserves it,
now he’s one of Meisou's most dependable regulars.
“You never change,” Arakita says.
“Hmm… not sure about that…”
Lying on the tatami, he stares at the ceiling and there it is, one of those
silences. They’re almost nonexistent nowadays but sometimes they creep into the
most mundane conversations without warning even if those are rare to begin
with. Usually, Arakita is very good at forgetting them.
“Good night Yasutomo.”
Calling him has to be one of the dumbest things he has done in months.
“… ‘Night."
 
 
***** Chapter 8 *****
It’s late September, a Saturday night at Arakita’s small apartment. It’s to
celebrate nothing, or maybe the end of summer, it’s an excuse to be together
because they don’t have much time to see one another otherwise. Toudou thinks
that it’s a very quiet night if you ignore Arakita’s endless complaints about
the noisy neighbors just next door.
That apartment complex is a lot similar to a dorm life with many students or
young workers unable to afford something more decent. Earlier, his former
roommate has banned all use of phones for the night, perhaps because Fukutomi
received multiple messages from helpless and overzealous freshmen he took under
his wings (law students) and that’s a big no-no, but mostly it’s to restrain
Toudou and he reluctantly agreed. “My roof, my rules” Arakita’s glare was self-
explanatory.
By consensus they’ve chosen takoyaki or perhaps Fukutomi didn’t allow any other
possibility, he can’t remember and hopes some of the neighbors will have the
idea to crash the reunion, Toudou has a lot to talk about, he needs an
audience.
Besides, Shinkai apparently changed his mind.
Three instead of four, Toudou doesn’t quite like it. “You should’ve invited
Kinjou or your friend Miki-san, she’s been in Taiwan before right?”
“No way,” Arakita grumbles. “I’ve seen his ugly glasses every single day for
four months and I’m avoiding her like the plague since she wants to use me as
guinea pig for her studies.”
Fukutomi doesn’t mind Kinjou’s absence either, “No outsiders.” Toudou rolls his
eyes at his former captain. Always so competitive.Those two are so similar on
certain points it’s scary. Fuku always had that natural ability to attract
people and assert his authority but even Arakita possesses that gift. Although
different and fewer in number, a bunch of disparate people flock around him and
he doesn’t even realize the weird magnetism he exerts on them. Not that Toudou
will admit it aloud but Arakita’s resilience sets him apart, it’s something
almost admirable.
Except when he acts like a selfish immature idiot. Which happens rarely to be
fair, but annoys Toudou to no ends when it does.
He clasps his hands together, time to tell the tale. “Alright, shoot!”
“Shoot what?”
“Come. On. I’m dying here!”
 
Of course Shinkai hasn’t showed up and Arakita doesn’t ask Fukutomi why, his
pride prevents him to do so. But he doesn’t let slip the opportunity to drink
himself into a stupor, the summer was rough, the competition being a whole new
level of endurance and cycling takes a toll on his body, that’s why he probably
won’t turn pro. Incidentally it doesn’t take long, maybe because of his
dedication, surely because he doesn’t eat much. Absolutely because Toudou can’t
shut it. But, for once, Arakita listens everything he has to babble about, that
is… the first official international race of his young career.
“Damn… Taiwan sounds great.”
“A couple of years and you can experience all of it too.”
“We’ll see about that,” Fukutomi says.
Call it ‘burnt out due to every single crap I have to deal with’ or descent
into ‘I don’t give a flying fuck anymore’. Even Toudou’s shocked in silence,
for a little while at least. Fukutomi has decided to drink alongside (leading
the way in fact) and that’s impressive. Arakita should feel guilty about
stirring up things an hour ago, except it doesn’t even cross his fuzzy mind.
“Fuku-chaaan… your ace… that guy’s an absolute total, royal jerk.”
“… I know.”
“How d’ya put up with that bullshit?”
“We don’t, believe me.”
“Man up jeeeeez! And take his place next year or I’ll strangle him with my bare
hands.”
“… Easy to say…”
 
An hour later…
“Argh! I still can’t believe he chose you over Kenichi-kun!”
“Who the hell is that?”
“Nagano climber!”
That’s when Arakita realizes Toudou also has been drinking more than reasonable
and it’s common knowledge that the Beauty’s a lightweight. He smiles an evil
smile, “That sucks for Nagano-chan and you then. Lucky me!”
Toudou shoots him daggers but Fukutomi intercepts, “Let’s drop that subject.”
Arakita scoffs, of course they would tackle that ‘subject’.  “Yeah, let’s drop
the best thing that ever happened to me.” But that comment, or the lack of
food, doesn’t set right in Arakita’s stomach, he feels the need to clean the
mess and stares dumbly at Fukutomi, eyes concentrated in an attempt to redeem
himself. He’s always been an ungrateful bastard but that’s a limit he's not
willing to cross. “Oi, oi Fuku-chan, don’t take it wrong, you’re important too…
I mean meeting you changed my life y’know… Ab-so-lu-te-ly. I never said it
before but you’re the only one I owe anythin’… aaanyyythin’… and who gives a
fuck if I put ya on pedadestal...”
“Pedestal,” Fukutomi says. He’s too smart to show he’s taking pity on him, a
great friend. Damn stone face. Oddly, Toudou looks crestfallen, dude really
can’t hold his liquor.
“Yeah, yeah whatev’…come on drink with me.”
Toudou slams his glass next to the bottle, “You’re a hopeless moron!”
 
Arakita wakes up hungry but with a headache not as terrible as he anticipated
and he’s sweating. If only he hadn’t… put the heater on. When did he? He has to
blink several times for good measure before sitting up. Shinkai is on the other
side of the kotatsu and waves his hand as a greeting. “Hi.”
“You’re here?”
“I’m here.”
Arakita wonders if all of this is real. “How come?”
“Missed my train and no one answered my calls, then Jinpachi finally opened
after fifteen minutes of knocking on your door but you were already asleep.
Your neighbor’s pissed by the way.”
“Wha’?”
Shinkai shrugs, “Jinpachi’s a feisty drunk.”
On the table there are remnants of takoyaki, empty bottles, glasses, a hairband
and an open book, Arakita glances at the clock. “The hell Hayato? It’s 4 a.m.!”
“Yeah… I’m not sleepy, they’ve found the corpse and the student just got
arrested,” he pushes the novel aside slowly, staring right at him with wide
eyes. “But it’s the neighbor who did it with a hammer, poor guy.”
With his head pounding, or the heart, he’s not quite realizing what’s
happening, he massages his temples, elbows on the table. At least Shinkai’s
enjoying himself at his expense.
“Shōchū? Really? Yasutomo, that’s the worst idea ever.”
He knows that glaring holes at the offensive bottle won’t help, the actual
final nail in the coffin. “Blame Fuku-chan.”
“I thought you’d become an expert… bar hopping and all?”
“Haha, so not funny.”
Arakita lives like an ascetic, not that he hasn’t tried to be more sociable,
even during his darkest hours. Until he hit a wall. After the disastrous ten
days with Miki marked a definite end to very few disastrous attempts, he gave
up searching whatever he was searching. What he got in return was something
unexpected: his first female friend. Quite the change from testosterone-filled
cycling buddies, even if Miki’s a nutcase. But it has indubitably felt like a
breath of fresh air in his messy life. Or, like a cyclone.
Shinkai is like… a breeze. Arakita shakes his head. He’s no poet that’s for
sure. Time to wake up.
“Might help,” Shinkai digs a hand in a bag on the floor and puts two cans on
the table, a bebsi and an ice coffee for himself. Arakita scoffs at the
situation, peeking at the comatose bodies of Toudou and Fukutomi snoring on his
bed.
“I don’t have a spare for you,” his eyes swift back to Shinkai who’s still
amused and shakes his head lightly.
“I’ll borrow the kotatsu.”
“Too small for two.”
He’s playing with fire. Shinkai observes him with indecipherable eyes, he’s
more handsome than five years ago, when they first met in Hakone’s locker room,
he also appears slightly more assured since winning the ace sprinter jersey
against his older teammates. But it’s the reassuring aura Shinkai projects
around him that Arakita values above anything else, even if a third of it is
all smoke and mirrors. You don’t kick out old habits like that, you don’t kick
out anxiety or insecurities because you turned twenty.
But nothing will damper his mood, Arakita is happy. Happier than he’s been in a
long, long time and he’s a dumbass that never learns; he doesn’t regret
anything, he can’t, how could he? Better take it all. The bad, the awful, the
mistakes. A year and a half ago, it had felt like the right decision because he
didn’t know a thing about heartbreak, he had nothing to compare or relate to,
only his tumultuous emotions to lay bare or hide.
“This is fucked up.”
“I’ll help you clean don’t worry.”
Being honest was the least he could do at that time, tonight has to be the
same. “Not that,” Arakita gestures back and forth between them, “You and me.”
Caught off guard, Shinkai stares in silence few seconds. “My… thanks.”
Arakita hates himself a little for ruining the moment and, giving Shinkai’s
hesitation, wonders how much of a masochist he truly is. That thought doesn’t
stop him.
“Why aren’t we together?”
Now averting his gaze, Shinkai drums his fingers on the table absently. A
measured, irritating motion, until he stops. “If my memory’s right the sentence
started with too much and ended with too young.” Arakita cringes, of course he
remembers the exact words, worthless words that ever came out of his mouth
“I was also scared you know,” Shinkai is looking at him again… What does that
mean?
Arakita feels the knot in his stomach tightening, “And now?”
“If I were, I wouldn’t be here.”
All the doubts can’t be erased but Arakita has one certitude. Because they’re
both wide awake, they’ll talk until dawn. Because they both want to, just like
before.
 
                                     o-o-o
Sat on a bench, he’s watching from afar the goodbyes and late confessions with
his diploma clutched in his hand. He’s done it: Yonan, the director’s praise,
his father’s approval; it’s graduation day and yet he feels like shit.
Shinkai appears before him out of nowhere, his tie’s gone, the buttons of his
jacket gone too. He wears a distant gaze and a bandage on his right hand.
They’ve spoken five words in two weeks and avoided each other as much as they
could, Toudou has been bugging him since then and Fukutomi also insisted he
should apologize for his mood swings, he’s right about that. Arakita doesn’t
know what to say or how to explain, he has no definite answers to offer.
He still tries. “How many confessed?”
Shinkai frowns and then smiles, his features softening instantly. Damn...
“None. I heard Kuroda got all emotional on you.”
“Tch…” That makes him smile too.
“Let’s go,” Shinkai walks away, Fukutomi and Toudou are waiting for them at the
gate.
“Where? Why?”
“Eat… or ride. Whichever.”
Arakita knows that’s an illusion, it can’t be easy for him to be so calm and
friendly and considerate. To take the first step, even if Yasumoto didn’t
because he believed Hayato wouldn’t see him at all.
Step by step, as long as it takes, because losing that particular friendship
isn’t an option. He gets on his feet.
 
                                     o-o-o
When he was twelve, Shinkai often stopped at the convenience store on his way
to school, he took every opportunity for more detours and kilometers to ride
his new bike. His first Cervélo, a present from his parents.
One day when he stepped outside with a bag full of anpan and chocolate bars, a
stranger was leaning over and watching the frame of the bike. The young man
touched the wheel, he was tall in his grey uniform from Hadano High. He turned
toward Shinkai, “Yours?” Shinkai nodded and held the bag more firmly against
his chest, the other crouched to dissect the derailleur, “Never seen that model
before.” They exchanged a few words about velocity and something else and then
stay silent in the chilly morning.
When the stranger stood up again, Shinkai offered him a chocolate bar, because
he didn’t know what to do, because it was nerve wrecking having that
intimidating person right next to him, so tall and self-confident. He took it.
“Careful on the road,” that was all the stranger said when he left.
That day Shinkai understood many things.
Strange memories and a flat tire. Still five kilometers to the academy and the
sun is setting slowly. All afternoon his rhythm has been off, with no explosive
accelerations, low cadence. Ace sprinter who can’t sprint, such a bad joke.
When Shinkai asked Arakita if he wanted to visit him during spring break for
his hometown festival, implying that Arakita would meet his parents, things
fell apart. Shinkai was blind to the cracks beforehand too. With the pressure
of the exams and with someone as free as Arakita, it must’ve felt suffocating.
Maybe. In the end it was a radical outcome but rationalizing Arakita’s decision
doesn’t alleviate the hurt. It’s an unexpected, visceral reaction, an anger
slowly building in the pit of his stomach. Separated cities. Separated teams.
Long distance. Changing lives. Independence. Too young. Truthfully, Shinkai
hasn’t projected into the future with a clear sight either, he was going with
the flow, not thinking those things would seem insurmountable for anyone, for
Arakita in particular. They would manage. Maybe that was naïve.
Maybe Arakita doesn’t love him as much as he does love him.
That feeling, it’s like passing on the left side over and over and over again.
That’s why he rode alone all afternoon surrounded by steam and white clouds on
the roads not closed from the recent volcanic eruption, until the flat tire of
his front wheel ends the aimless practice. A simple task; remove, check, patch
and inflate. Shinkai doesn’t have the patience but starts nonetheless, three
times, there’s no hole but the tire keeps deflating. Again and again. And then
he snaps.
He grabs the wheel, jumps over the safety barrier and heads to the cliff behind
the road, crushing it on the rocks with savage force, relentlessly. He only
notices the bleeding when his hand starts stinging. The cut isn’t deep but
that’s enough to stop him from throwing the rest of his bike down below. Too
much wasted energy for expensive carbon fibers.
He drops the remains of the wheel and sits on the barrier, at least his mind’s
blank now.
“Shinkai-san?”
Shinkai raises his head and looks over his shoulder, Izumida stands nearby with
his own bike, beyond pale. He probably came to look after him and it’s late,
the sky has orange in it. There’s something seriously wrong in his head if he
didn’t hear him approaching.
“Hey…” It’s unlike him, he needs to get over the pain, it’s just one more bump
on the road. Shinkai isn’t much for drama in the first place, it has to stop,
and there’s no need for Izumida to panic over something as ridiculous as this.
He wasn’t raised as a brat who trashes his equipment in a fit of rage.  He
smiles while wiping off the blood on his palm, “Flat tire.”
 
Izumida doesn’t comment about the incident on the way back, instead he talks
about the next Giro, tennis, anything. Shinkai seems relieved for the
distraction and joins in at the end, joking even. Izumida doesn’t stare too
much at the cut hand or the troubled face, although the temptation is there and
doesn’t ask if he’s alright again after his senpai responds an evasive “I will
be.”
He’s just thrown the destroyed wheel in the garbage while Shinkai has insisted
to bandage the injury on his own, still smiling, perhaps embarrassed but more
himself than he has been for the past week. It’s almost dark when Izumida
leaves the lockers, outside, near the football field, he recognizes a familiar
silhouette.
“Why are you still here Manami? It’s late you should be home.”
“I’m watching Arakita-san.” Izumida approaches, he wouldn’t have known who it
was if Manami hadn’t told him. Arakita’s pitching against the wall of the
stadium.
“He’s been throwing that ball for hours, he might hurt his shoulder if he isn’t
careful,” Manami says.
“Arakita-san knows what he’s doing.”
Izumida isn’t entirely certain about that and has half the mind of calling
Fukutomi to drag him out of the field, but butting in Arakita’s business at
this point doesn’t seem the wisest thing. Izumida has never learned how to deal
with his temper, but even if their senpai can be reckless, he’s not stupid.
“Go home Manami.”
The young climber takes off in the other direction into the fading light, his
cheerful voice echoing long after he’s gone. “I’m gonna miss them… senpai sure
are great...”
 
                                     o-o-o
One morning in late December, after it has snowed all night, they decide to
skip class on a whim and hole themselves up in Arakita’s dorm room. Because
Shinkai has the flu, because Arakita is sick of cram school. Because it's cold
and sunny and the world can wait for all they care. It's easy and natural and
simple. They have sex all day long, that's also easy and natural by now.
Arakita has boundaries, such as ‘no sex in Fuku-chan’s room. Ever.’ Or ‘no
kissing in public. Ever.’ Who’s he kidding? Shinkai never miss the opportunity
to tease him about the last part.
 
“You try so hard to look cool it’s embarrassing.”
“Yasu, you’re lucky I’m not easily offended.”
The game is: your worst flaw.
“Your turn.”
Shinkai should say something stupid too, instead he says the thing that always
has been on the back of his mind. “You still have serious trust issues.”
Arakita stares at him sharply, “Why we’re playing that?”
“Your idea,” Shinkai shrugs. They don’t need to continue. He has never expected
Arakita to reveal himself. That’s not who he is and it’s not likely to change
anytime soon. Not that it matters.
Arakita rolls on his side to face him, narrowing his eyes.“You still hate that
bike, don’t you?”
His Cervélo. Shinkai fails to hide the sad admission in his voice. “Not often.”
 
“Hayato?”
Eyes closed, his hand fumbles and searches Arakita’s harm and slides along the
warm skin to the crook of the neck. His fingers brush the silver chain. Arakita
blows on his temple to get a reaction, Shinkai doesn’t move so he does it
again. A few strands of hair tickle his face and beneath him he feels the
warmth of their entangled bodies pressed against each other.
 
Thinking back, nothing was a mistake.
                                     o-o-o
 
With the thunder and the torrential rain batting against the tiles and the
ground all around them, Arakita almost missed the words.
Shinkai has this unfathomable ability to transfix him on the spot. Be it on
that roadside last year, in that old storage room this summer or the other day,
naked on his bed. Same as tonight, while he’s hugging that bunny close to his
heart under a drenched raincoat. Arakita doesn’t say anything back.
He’s stunned and a bit terrified. The weird conversation he’s had with Fukutomi
still on his mind and he needs to tell Toudou before someone else does, he owes
him that much. His own impulses scare him equally, with that kiss at the dorm’s
entrance for every loiterer to see.
How it seems that things are turning into something colossal.
Arakita believes it’s so obvious, that’s why he doesn’t say anything. Surely
Shinkai can see it on his face, even in the dark. How stupidly in love he is
too.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Bakeneko: cat-like monster
Shinkai keeps close to his heart the good memories.
“My brother was right.”
He reaches that conclusion a Tuesday evening, after he finds it difficult to
finish his dinner. The birthday phone call with Arakita has become a vague loop
in his head. Although he doesn’t spend much time reminiscing, it’s still there.
He never longs for the past or feels sad, not ever, neither does he embellish
those memories, it’s not a paradise lost. Just two teens crazy about sport who
dated in high school.
He doesn’t know if he’s still in love. He tried so hard not to be, at some
point it might’ve worked.
It’s fun… talking with him… and he’s still a bundle of nerves. Shinkai wonders
about Arakita’s blood pressure on occasion, about his grades, about the fights
he has with his father and the million things Shinkai’s allowed to worry about.
In secret.  
He should consider himself lucky and does to an extent, not many people around
him have had that kind of bond, in high school or at university. Most long for
a girlfriend and only some get one. But tonight he needs to tell someone who
hasn’t known him for years that he can feel as frustrated as the rest of them.
Wakao has a patient soul, he listens for half an hour without interrupting.
“You tried and found out it wasn’t for you, don’t sweat it.”
Casual sex only happened on two occasions and was nowhere as fulfilling as it
seemed in theory. Shinkai isn’t ashamed, he’s indifferent. No fun, no feelings.
They were nice and respectful and that’s important but he’s been spoiled, sex
with Arakita was both and more.
“As for your ex, I know it’s easier said than done but when you’re ready you
should go see him. When I was eighteen I had no freaking idea of what I was
doing, cut him some slack.”
“I was the one who got dumped.” 
Watching him closely, hands on the counter, he shrugs. “So what? Human beings
screw up all the time, I did, you did, all the folks entering that restaurant
did. Life’s too short for avoidance games, trust an old man on that, unless you
want to stay a brat for the rest of your life.”
Shinkai smiles, straightforward people don’t treat you with kid gloves.
“Thanks.”
He will reach out, when he’s ready… one day in the near future. A friendship
like this one… It’s…
Life’s too dull when Yasutomo isn’t around.
 
                                     o-o-o
 
No matter how you slice it, they’re just sleeping side by side under the
kotatsu, like Fukutomi and he did on the bed, like they’ve done plenty times
before as teammates, nothing else.
Toudou would like to know, especially after last night’s bombshell, but that’s
none of his business.
He glances at Fukutomi who has taken upon himself to prepare their breakfast in
Arakita’s sparse kitchen, his former captain also has no hangover and that’s
one more injustice in the universe, but he makes excellent coffee. Toudou
missed that, a lot.
“Fuku?”
“More coffee?”
“…No… yes… but…” He starts… That’s none of my business…
Instead he concentrates on a more urgent matter, “Are you serious about giving
up cycling after university?”
Fukutomi’s surprised at the sudden question. “No. It’s just fatigue… and some
people I need to confront.” He doesn’t elaborate, Toudou won’t push it, his
friend always makes a point of working things out by sheer mental strength.
“It’s good that Shinkai came.”
“Yeah… it’s great.”
 
                                     o-o-o
 
On the road, you can see flickers of sunlight through the endless green line of
pines behind the barrier, hiding the rocks and then, after the curve, one big
blue. Sky and lake. His muscles tense from the effort, he’s in control, hands
firm on the handlebars. Those are the roads and paths their bodies know by
heart, they’re ingrained into their flesh, they marked them with their pain and
the daily routine of three years where every millimeter on the asphalt counts
and where all what’s left to do is watching right in front of you; the target
or what lies beyond the straight line.
Arakita is used to being at the front, it’s his pride as an assist even if the
team has changed, he’s the one who takes the angles and bows them to his will.
But when Shinkai passes him he’s propelled by the force of the draft.
Just like old times.
Shinkai accelerates, he accelerates endlessly. And Arakita thinks that one day
he will achieve it.
Pure speed.
 
Last weekend, they slept less than two hours, talking about stuff Arakita can’t
remember and others he should, all topics but his sort-of-confession. Or rather
one of those inappropriate and point blank something, selfish to boot, that
he’s so good at blurting out without anyone asking him to. But Shinkai being
Shinkai, there wasn’t any flat out rejection, he just kept the same guarded
distance.
Arakita didn’t ask what made him scared.
“I’m going to Hakone next Saturday, want to ride with me?” Number four said
right after.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. “If we race I’ll kick your ass for sure.”
“Promises… promises…”
They played Uno. Shinkai reminded him he didn’t drink much alcohol. Arakita
mocked him for putting the heater on in September.  Shinkai denied, poorly.
Shinkai lost and had to finish the last “bland and warm” beer. Arakita took
pity and threw the rest in the sinker. Around six in the morning they ate
instant ramen. They argued about who snored louder between Fukutomi and Toudou.
At past seven, Arakita pulled his duffle bag covered with dust out of the
cupboard.
“What are you doing?” Shinkai was tired and genuinely surprised, he’s still the
same no matter what he says… tolerant, nice and all that stuff.
Arakita pushed it back inside, “Nothing.” He also stole the pillows from his
friends on the bed. No way there was even a contest, Fuku-chan was the snoring
king.
They managed to both fit under the kotatsu in silence without trouble, Arakita
was also tired and they had talked too much before. Lying on his side, he
watched the mass of red-brown hair with no blue until he couldn’t anymore.
“No shutters?”
“Nope.” He was too tired to get up again.
“Liar.”
Arakita chuckled.
Hayato still sleeps on his stomach, still needs two pillows, still prefers
darkness.
Arakita expects nothing of him. He has realized his friend’s happiness eclipses
his own desires, because he’s one of the good guys and he deserves it all.
Whether Arakita has a part in his life as more than a friend… well if not,
he’ll suck it up once and for all.
 
In the meantime, they can ride side by side.
 
During the downhill back to the academy he asks about Fukutomi.
Not many people know this but sometimes Shinkai is just ruthless. “He has to
hit rock bottom, only after he’ll get back to his normal level, that’s exactly
what happened with Shingo-kun last time. I’m always here if he needs my help.”
Arakita’s well aware that he will never explicitly dis Meisou’s asshole ace in
front of him or anyone else because it’s a problem within their team, but
Fukutomi’s current slump is beyond that simple rivalry, that’s why Arakita
vented about their friend’s stubborn silence and Shinkai spilled the beans
without much pressing. Fukutomi happens to be the de facto captain while all
the third and fourth years have bailed out because no one can stand ace-sama…
go figure.
“Rock bottom as in: punch him?”
“Maybe,” the usually pacifist Shinkai sounds almost hopeful at the prospect.
“But I doubt it’ll go that far.”
Meisou’s ace is a mean, self-absorbed version of Toudou with no leadership
skill whatsoever and only pure talent as a redeeming quality.
“Juichi’s gonna be fine.”
He can be ruthless but he still believes in his ideals, the same as his.
“You got that right.”
Fukutomi never said a word about what happened before graduation; he didn’t
lecture Arakita, didn’t question his choice and certainly didn’t judge. He’s
been there in silence for him and no doubt for Shinkai too. He made it easier
for them. He’s not perfect, far from it, hell he’s done some nasty things on
his own too, but Arakita has to thank him again and this time without the help
of alcohol.
The bar is still very high.
 
“She’s a fatty.”
Arakita’s shocked. Shocked. The she-bunny has changed so much.
“She’s not,” Shinkai’s in heaven. “Don’t listen to him,” he takes her in his
arms with a stupid smile plastered on his face, as gentle as always. That’s a
sight Arakita has seen so many times over the last couple of years. He doesn’t
want to disrupt the reunion any longer and there might also be some kind of
immature jealousy that pushes him to leave.
“I’m gonna watch the first years suffer on the rollers.”
 
They do suffer, Hakone style. He’s having the time of his life watching them
fight the machines. Old days, good days. There’s an asshole brat in the corner
who keeps complaining, Arakita’s going to torment him after that round.
“Arakita-san, I wanted to ask… are you and Hayato-kun that kind of people?”
Yuuto has changed too, physically. For the rest Arakita can’t tell, he’s only
met him twice.
“What kind?”
He shrugs, “On-again, off-again…”
The little shit is kinda hard to read and he looks so much like his big bro,
it’s distracting, but there’s a veiled threat behind the lidded eyes. Ah…
brother complex. Or just a normal one, at least compared to his sisters.
Arakita flicks his forehead, “Stick to climbing, will ya.”
 
You could say… it’s love at first sight.
“Yasutomo?”
Mid-sixties, superflow, golden brown… Argh… that’s a damn fine engine he would
like to try. He crouches to have a better view. “… See that? That’s a great
paint job…”
“It’s an old scooter.”
“It’s a Fuji Rabbit.”
“Fuji… rabbit…”
Shinkai has no sense of beauty. “Are you fucking blind? It’s a piece of
collection, costs thousands and thousands on the market.” They passed by a
ryokan on the way to the station and Arakita stopped his bike immediately after
laying eyes on the scooter in the parking lot.
“Miss the pompadour that bad?”
Shinkai has always been a tease now that he thinks about it.
“Tsk…”
Since the whole day’s pretty much the definition of nostalgia, yeah why not?
Ridicule never killed anyone otherwise Arakita would be dead sixty times
already. He stands up, the contagious good mood and excitement of the brats
back in the practice room got to him. They bombarded them with questions,
sought advices on cycling, exams and life in general. Arakita wanted to yell at
them to shut the fuck up but he’s not sixteen anymore, he has to set an
example. Never mind if he has no clue of what he’s doing half of the time.
He reclaims his bike from Shinkai’s hands and bumps into his shoulder
playfully, “Idiot.”
Number four has been quiet and pensive since leaving Usakichi behind, something
that happened fairly often when they lived at the dorm and you could always
tell when he went for a visit. At least Arakita could. During their senior
year, he used to make exceptions of his strict rule of no touching in public
when Shinkai was a little down, discretely, by brushing hands or with a pat on
the back a tad longer than usual… or better, with quick makeouts behind closed
doors.
Until now he has abstained from physical contact, even last weekend, even
meaningless ones. And he knows better, that’s why he doesn’t kiss him right
here, right now.
It’s still driving him insane.
He glances at his wrist watch, hakogaku’s practice is about to end and since
Shinkai’s staying at the dorm with his brother, Arakita has decided to take the
next train in ten minutes, he can make it if he leaves now. Shinkai proposed to
accompany him mid-way to the station, they split here.
He puts his helmet on and doesn’t look at his former teammate, “You owe me a
race.” They didn’t do it today after all.
“Next time.”
Yeah… next month, with forty other guys trying to beat you.
“Or perhaps now… How about we ride thirty more kilometers?”
Arakita frowns, “What? To the lake? We just did the whole… ” The sentence dies
on his tongue, Shinkai is staring at him in a certain that way that incites him
to think.
Think… think… think.
Dammit…
Hadano.
Shinkai’s eyes are so intense and resolute, it’s hard to look away but
Arakita’s gaze falls on that strong hand landing on his handlebars as if it’s
saying: no escape.
“You can catch a train there or you can stay for the night if you want.”
Don’t…
“Yasu?”
Not here…
“… Hey…”
Arakita brings his own hand to his temple, letting out a derisive laugh,
strangled in his throat. If he’s going to cry like a kid, he wants to do it on
his own term. He’s always been a dumbass, Toudou was right, so let’s make fun
of that.
But he forgets that plan once the warm hand that blocked his bike only instants
ago seizes his neck and his head falls on Shinkai’s shoulder. He’s going to cry
earnestly after all. Last time was when they lost the race they shouldn’t have
lost.
And he couldn’t care less how long it takes or if people are staring, he needs
the catharsis.
Shinkai holds him. He’s rock solid. He smells of sweat, Hakone pine, she-bunny
and forgiveness.
 
When Arakita’s finished he straightens his back and wipes the tears away
carelessly with his glove. He finds a tissue somewhere in his bag, it’s
pathetic and unmanly to blow you nose after that, Arakita can’t help chuckling.
He risks a glance. Shinkai’s misty-eyed, a little, but he doesn’t look worried
or sad, he’s restless. Arakita envies that kind of strength.
“I have to tell Yuuto,” He hands him his bike, searching for his phone. “Wait
for me.” And disappears.
No escape.
Arakita’s having a hysterical laughter inside his head.
 
 
The empty Shinkai household is everything he thought it would be. It’s smaller
than his parent’s home in Yokohama, but comfortable. There are tennis racquets
in the entryway, the noisy parrot reigns in the living room and the neighbor’s
cat naps on the windowsill outside. After the ride, they’re too hungry to wait
for the in-laws and they eat the leftovers from the stuffed fridge.
Arakita’s world is changing.
 
It’s still early in the evening, Shinkai doesn’t know when his parents will
come home but at this hour they usually dine outside. He dries his hair with a
towel and finishes a note for them on the kitchen counter. They’ve also parked
their bikes near the entrance. He re-writes that note five times, he’s sure his
mum will put two and two together, he shouldn’t be flustered, it’s idiotic.
Yasutomo’s here,
See you tomorrow
 
 
On that road, he took a leap of faith.
 
Shinkai puts their cycling clothes in the drum and starts the washing machine.
He’s been on autopilot since they set foot in the house. Maybe he should’ve at
least called his parents before coming here unannounced, but they’re not even
at home and it’s becoming obvious they’re out for the whole evening. It’s
Saturday, he’s glad they’re having fun after a long week and almost twenty five
years together… Yeah. He stares as the water and detergent flood the jerseys
and runs a hand through his dampened hair.
“Yeah…”
He’s still in love.
It’s been four years.
After last weekend, Shinkai contemplated the choices he had been offered, he
could’ve said “we should stay friends” with unfinished business hanging between
them. Safe. But the fact that he followed his instinct speaks for itself and
even if a part of him hated to go through that ordeal again, he toughened up.
Earlier, when Arakita was about to leave Hakone, he jumped on the chance to get
at long last a clear closure or a blank slate, but things don’t work that way
and he’s getting neither. It’s bittersweet for both of them, Shinkai should’ve
known about the bitter part since he still has that left side stuck somewhere
in his head.
But then… Hell what?... Getting back together feels unsteady under his feet but
he can’t find a reason to regret that choice, not a single one.
 
Shinkai steps inside his bedroom with the guest futon and blankets in arms,
Arakita is looking at the framed photos on the small library, in particular the
one with Yuuto and their cousins when they were little, all girls, and he turns
around at his approach. He hasn't spoken much since their arrival and he wears
the t-shirt and joggers that Shinkai lent him before his bath, that’s new, they
never did that sort of things before.
“You all look the same… scary shit. Thankfully my sisters fell on the right
side of the family gene pool but they’re not as pretty as them, that’s for
sure.” 
“You still call them bakeneko?”
“Cause they are.” Apparently it’s a fact, not an opinion. 
Shinkai shakes his head and smiles, he saw pictures of the sisters at the dorm
and they have the same cunning eyes as him. Attractive. He drops the futon on
the floor while Arakita observes carefully; it’s like he’s that awkward kid in
the clubroom all over again minus the anger. The day after graduation, when
they moved out of the dorm, he came to see Shinkai after Fukutomi left, to say
goodbye. They didn’t talk much back then but Arakita said the sprinter would
always make him nervous. 
Shinkai refused to believe those words at that time and now he’s been proved
wrong.
“Must at least pretend you’re going to use it,” he says.
Arakita’s eyes widen and he glances at the futon then the bed, good, Shinkai is
sick of waiting and wanting and since the other has always been sharp he’ll get
the drift.
He does. That’s all it takes for Arakita to erase the distance and catch his
wrist, but he’s still being careful even if the way he caresses his skin
reveals his impatience, then he lays a hand on his chest and Shinkai exhales
slowly at the touch.
They lock eyes, Arakita’s aren’t red anymore, it’s strange how that small
meltdown has impacted him, maybe because Shinkai experienced a similar one, or
two, in the past. Arakita slides his hand upward and touches his face with
nervous fingertips.
Then Shinkai enlaces him, chin on his shoulder, arms around his waist. Yasutomo
is broader, perhaps even taller, Shinkai likes that and his heart is about to
explode when he closes his eyes.
They stay a long time like this, until Arakita moves his hand under the shirt,
up and down Shinkai’s back, eager, and starts kissing his neck and soon
everywhere he can.
When they kiss for real, Shinkai wants to forget everything.
 
“I swear Hayato…”
“I’ll blow you fifteen times if I don’t find them.”
Shinkai always knew his lack of tidiness would come to bite him in the ass one
day as he desperately searches through his drawers for the stuff he brought
back from the dorm after graduation. Arakita sniggers behind his back and tries
to sneak a hand inside his short. “You’ll regret those words... fifteen times.”
Shinkai ignores him. Last one… he breathes out in relief.
“Check the expiration date.”
He takes the items and taps on Arakita’s head with the lube, “It wasn’t that
long.”
“Too long.”
Yeah, it was that long. He has to tell him now and put it to rest.
“I… I’ve been with two men after you… strangers I’d just met…”
The expression in the eyes switches to something much more agitated than
Shinkai expected, but whatever goes through his head he keeps it to himself.
“What about you?”
That snaps Arakita out of his daze. “You know who.”
It was short-lived and long over when Shinkai learned about her, most people
forget Arakita and she were a thing at first, Shinkai hasn’t. And he’d like to
meet her, it’s not right if he doesn’t, despite the lingering uneasiness he
can’t keep at bay.
Arakita breaks eye contact, takes the condoms and reads the date. He does the
same with the lube.
“Yasu…”
“Hmm?”
“Kiss me.”
His head tilts up, the tempest in the eyes’ gone and he does just that.
 
“Let’s try,” Shinkai says.
Arakita looks more annoyed than anything else but it’s a facade, Shinkai places
the tip of the condom between his lips and stares at his partner, then his gaze
travels down and he changes his mind.
He puts it back on the wrapper near the forgotten towels, they’ve made a mess
with the lube earlier because of their impatience. He moves his hand on the
toned and pale inner thigh, brushing over black hair, halting at the junction.
Shinkai listens to the labored respiration when he leans down and takes him in
his mouth, the sensation on his tongue and the salty taste connects directly to
his groin, he sucks on the sensitive spot he knows well and keeps on for a
while giving the response.
Shinkai pulls out and places the latex between his lips, squeezes the tip with
his tongue and tries again, rolling it slowly along the length, careful to only
use his fingers when necessary. He runs his lips up and down one more time.
Arakita doesn’t complain at all.
He keeps staring, rasping as Shinkai kisses and licks his torso and especially
when he straddles him. Arakita draws his knees up so Shinkai can use them as
leverage if he wants. Shinkai opens himself one last time before slowly sinking
onto his cock, he exhales and inhales slowly to adjust and get past the burn
and discomfort. And then he starts moving.  Arakita is already fully erect but
it’s been so long, with each movement it seems like it’s growing inside of him
and he stares as Shinkai rides him, there are so many things to read on his
face. Shinkai wishes to know what he’s thinking. It’s going to be slow, he
wants that, at least as slow as they can manage.
It gets better once he finds a rhythm and Arakita moves too, he wraps his hand
around his cock, pressing his thumb on the head with light strokes. Shinkai
knows he’s making all sort of groans he should tone down. The muscles of his
legs tighten at the effort but he finds the spot, here, that hits him in all
the right way. He reaches for Arakita’s knee behind him, holds on it and
increases the rhythm as much as he can.
At some point he loses the notion of time, he doesn’t care, but suddenly hands
clutch his hips and force him to stop, he snaps his eyes open. Breath heavy,
Arakita’s are squeezed shut. Shinkai knows that his partner’s close and
although he wants to continue rocking he waits until he opens his eyes. The
beginning of a smile curves Arakita’s lips and then… that look.
Shinkai pushes himself up on his knees, losing all sensations and warmth when
Arakita pulls out with a low moan, his cock’s still hard and Shinkai wants to
reiterate that fifteen heads proposition but before he can say a word Arakita
sits up and traps his lips in a wet kiss. Perhaps it was a side effect of his
bruised ego, but during their seven months together Arakita dedicated himself
to improve his skills and now he pushes him onto the mattress, eyes ablaze,
spreading Shinkai’s legs, putting one onto his shoulder and going down on him.
He also thrusts two fingers inside him again.
He wants to make it last as longer as he can.
Shinkai watches the ceiling of his bedroom, a palm brushes the soft fabric of
the sheet. It’s exhilarating how his body relaxes and tenses at the same time.
Soon Arakita focuses only on his cock, lips and tongue working along his length
and that hand that rubs everywhere.
It’s building up fast. He’s going to make him come if he continues. Although
Shinkai needs that badly he makes him stop with his own hand and shakes his
head when Arakita looks up at him.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, “I can’t keep on forever…”
“It’s fine…” Shinkai smiles. It’s more, much more than fine.
Arakita leans over him, Shinkai takes his head in his hands, kisses him on the
cheek and whispers in his ear “do what you want.” That ends the internal
thinking and works well enough, his partner doesn’t lose time and starts
fucking him again, faster, and the just way Arakita likes it.
 
He almost forgot certain details. Shinkai has wrapped himself with the sheet,
sat on the bed, he’s been eating energy bars at a slow pace for the last
fifteen minutes. The crumbles fall on the mattress but Arakita doesn’t comment.
Not his bed, not his problem. Shinkai even forces him to take a bite; with his
alluring body, rumpled hair, sunburn marks and easy smile. 
At least Arakita has gotten better since their first time at the dorm… geez…
that one was dreadful. He snorts at the memory.
Shinkai stares at him, unapologetic. “I need that.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Arakita isn’t complaining, he’s enjoying the view. He grasps his
fingers around Shinkai’s wrist and drags him down, he’s aroused again just by
watching.
Shinkai raises an eyebrow, looks down, then up. “Already?” He winks. He’s still
an asshole.
If it’s a dream, then it’s the best he’s ever had in his entire life.
Rather die than waking up.
 
“Enough…”
Shinkai grabs a lock of black hair and pulls on it harshly. Arakita withdraws
his fingers, he has been stimulating that spot for god knows how long. He also
wears a smug grin and Shinkai doesn’t know why he finds that so enticing right
now.
He turns on his stomach, the contact on the soft fabric on his cock makes him
shivers but Arakita help him lifts his ass up, then he pours the cool liquid
and starts massaging. Shinkai supports himself on his elbows, head hung low, he
can hear Arakita unwrapping the condom and can imagine the concentration on his
face, with a crease between the eyes, perhaps he’s even glaring at the wrapper.
Shinkai is in love and very stupid about it, he fights back the urge to laugh.
He gasps when Arakita’s cock rubs at his entrance and then pushes inside
without  warning, not that he minds. After a couple of slow, deep thrusts,
Shinkai knows that his own cock has become soft and he’s finally getting what
he wants when Arakita pounds him. For a wild nanosecond he remembers they’re
doing this in his family home and he buries his head on the pillow, the first
time it happened to him he almost passed out.
A hand presses on his shoulder and he sinks forward, then Arakita’s fierce grip
on his forehand has his torso pinned on the mattress and back to reality. It
increases the pleasure, that and the slapping of slick skin against skin… As
long as they can.
The slow, intense orgasm is coming in waves, Shinkai can sense it from deep
inside of his abdomen while Arakita keeps trusting. A bit more, more harder,
and Shinkai shakes all over his body, he comes through his half hard cock, but
the pleasure doesn’t stop unlike his usual climax, the intensity expand as long
as he’s being fucked. He bites hard on the bedding.
It’s erratic now.
And he wants to feel that again and again and again.
The low moans and grunts are the only clear things he can recognize and Shinkai
understands it’s over when the movement slow down, Arakita’s breathing hard
above him, he leans and they collapse on the bed. He’s still clutching his
wrist, it almost hurts. It’s like they’re punch-drunk.
“Sorry,” Arakita says while loosening his grip. He’s warm and sweaty and
Shinkai isn’t sure why he apologized.
He doesn’t care about the past anymore.
“Hey… Hayato?”
“… I’m here.”
 
Arakita’s glowing, his lazy eyes are even more lazy, and after dispatching the
condom he sprawls unceremoniously on top of Shinkai, head on his shoulder.
Shinkai slips his fingers through the dark hair and also caresses the angular
back, then lays a hand on his ass…. and next time… Yeah, next time. That’s how
it is now.
Shinkai’s heart still beats too fast for his own liking, there’s no way he
can’t feel it. It’s quiet for a while. Yasutomo is heavy, always has been but
if he falls asleep like this, Hayato won’t move, he never did before.
“D’you know how many times in my life I’ve jerked off thinking of you?”
Shinkai starts laughing and squeezes one cheek, digging his nails until it
becomes red, “… I’m dying to know.” Arakita does this on purpose.
He chuckles, “Once upon a time in Hakone-”
“Shut up.”
 
 
“They’re back.”
It’s past midnight when his parents’ car parks in front of the house. Earlier,
they cleaned everything and prepared the futon next to the bed. Just for show.
Shinkai knows it’s kind of useless but he did it out of respect, he would’ve
done the same if he were straight with a nice girlfriend.
Despite the exhaustion, they can’t seem to find sleep, Shinkai turns his head
on the pillow and teases, “Too late to flee.”
But instead of the usual grumpiness, Arakita smiles. He’s been holding
something in his clenched fist since they went to bed and when Shinkai finally
bothers to ask what’s inside, he puts that fist on Shinkai’s bare chest,
opening it.
His heart starts racing again.
“I’m gonna kill you if you lose it,” Arakita whispers.    
The silver chain is warm and lighter than he remembers… Shinkai doesn’t know
what… he doesn’t know...
What should he say?
“How am I supposed to sleep now?”
“I don’t know.”
 
 
Sat on the edge of the bed, properly dressed with clothes that aren’t his,
Arakita can hear the radio downstairs and the faint clinking of cooking
utensils. Why is he freaking out now? He got over that bullshit multiple times
since last year. They aren’t going to chew or kick him out, they don’t even
know.
“What’s wrong?”
Shinkai asks for the sake of asking, he’s polite, but Arakita knows he’s having
none of it.
“Nothing.”
The chain hangs around Shinkai’s neck and that shirt certainly doesn’t hide it…
on the contrary, it’s like he’s damn proud and ready to show it to the world
and Arakita would be a fucking liar if he said he doesn’t like that sight.
That guy, I swear…
Arakita stands up abruptly, “I’m hungry, let’s go.”
But before he can open the door Shinkai yanks him back, grabs his head and
kisses him in the most forceful way ever, tongue and all… can’t breathe… he
didn’t kiss him like this last night and Arakita realizes how much he missed
that too.
What’s up with this guy and choking people? People?... “Strangers”… Never
again… or over Arakita’s dead body. He isn’t going to let that second chance
slip through his fingers.
And Hayato can crush his bones all he wants while holding him, Yasutomo still
doesn’t care.
***** Epilogue : Yasutomo *****
It’s the twelfth call, Arakita has counted them. Unfortunately. His phone’s on
silent but the vibration still gets on his nerves.
“You’re not going to answer?” Shinkai has that little glimmer in the eyes when
he looks at him from the kitchen, at least someone’s entertained by the
harassment.
He dismisses the joke and concentrates on the match, he has taken the habit
since his first year here of watching Koshien re-runs during the winter
holidays. But he isn’t mean enough (or stupid) to shut them down entirely even
if reading the stream of batshit crazy messages has already corrupted his
brain, after all he started it, because they kept asking why he wasn’t coming
home since this year’s Christmas fell on a weekend and you’re a sorry single
ass anyway and you don’t care about us or Aki-chan and you’re the worst brother
ever and yadda yadda yadda… Arakita sent a message to shut them up half an hour
ago: ‘i’m dating someone. a guy. no joke’
Oh the big mistake.
‘since when ur gay ?’
‘oi loser pick up the phone’
‘BAKA-NII answer the call !!’
‘pic or ur lyin’
‘we know ur desperate but turnin gay aint a thing’
‘Do you seriously think this is funny ? If you hid it from us all those years…
I swear… !!’
Sooner or later it was bound to happen and they know him well enough to
understand that’s not the kind of prank he would do, that’s why there were no
calls or messages for a couple of minutes after his first and only reply: ‘told
u, not a joke. hes here with me’.
Still, it must’ve been a shock for his sisters. And one day, if he feels like
it, he’ll perhaps explain to them that he’ll always consider boobs damn nice to
look at.
He peels an orange on the kotatsu although hates the taste and has no intention
of eating it, but Hayato loves that shit and Arakita has become very mushy
since the day he washed the dishes in Hadano, ate mochi and drank green tea.
Fucking tea… yeah… he did all that. And the Shinkais are the polar opposite of
his family, it was relaxing beyond his imagination.
New messages. He braces himself.
‘dads gonna be pissed u know that ?’
‘Whatever you decide DON’T start a fight, we’re always stuck in the middle and
mom too. If it’s true you should wait and see before telling them, he’s not
that bad but you know him’
‘seriously let us do the talkin we can get her on our side but he still pays
half of ur bills remember’
That’s exactly the sort of conversation he doesn’t want to have on Christmas
day while Shinkai’s here and it’s the reason why he hasn’t answered those
twelve phone calls. He peeks at him slicing the vegetables on the small
worktop, Shinkai insisted on preparing the hot pot and Arakita let him but he’s
checking occasionally to be sure. Arakita isn’t a great cook but Shinkai’s just
dreadful. One more contradiction.
If it were up to him and him only he would show up at his parent’s on New
Year’s Day with him and be done with it. But the sisters are right and he
doesn’t want his boyfriend to witness his family dysfunction in all its
splendor only three months after they’re back together, so for once Arakita’s
going to listen to that advice because even if the old man’s a pain, with time
he could, perhaps, accept the harsh reality. If they’re lucky. If they’re
patient for years to come.
Shinkai is patience incarnated.
Arakita won’t hold back expressing his doubts anymore. One late night, two
months ago while talking on the phone, he asked him. Why does Shinkai still
want to be with someone who already broke his heart once?
Shinkai remained silent and then he hung up.
It was like having a heart stroke, or so Arakita thought it was, but the phone
ran right after and he just said with his soft and reassuring voice, “You’re a
nice guy, that’s why.”
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“I know the feeling.”
Arakita got the message, crystal clear, and he also got his final answer.
They’re together in this and they can make it work without the bullshit.
There’s nothing wrong about making mistakes or feeling lost as long as he
doesn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. They’re still too young, he
believes that, but it’s becoming less and less of an obstacle and Kinjou also
told him that Tadokoro got engaged during the fall and that’s a commitment of a
whole other level than a silver chain. It was a surprise at first, but Kinjou
didn’t even bat an eye when he dropped the words, “He’s that kind of person.”
Arakita wants to try being that kind of person too and he doesn’t need to give
up his independence because Shinkai never asked him to.
And he’s changed a little, as patient as he may be there’s no doubt Shinkai is
putting his personal ambition first and nothing will hold him back either.
Least of all Arakita’s indecision. Whether they’ll stay together for three
months, two years or less or more… they don’t know, but it is worth just
trying.
He stares at his back. “Need help?”
Shinkai shakes his head as a no, he’s damn stubborn when it comes to food.
“What’s the score?”
They’ve switched the pitchers and the new guy has been striking the batters out
one by one with brute force for two innings. It’s a good match. “My team’s
still winning.”
“You cheated.”
Arakita smirks, “It’s not my fault if you know jack about baseball.”
“I didn’t know they already won last year,” Shinkai mutters. He’s a sore loser
too.
The bakeneko have calmed down at bit, for now, he knows their persistence too
well. But he can at least throw them a bone so he searches for a picture that
will end the harassment for good, hopefully. Yonan. More Yonan teammates.
Countless pics of Kinjou’s new shades and new bike… The hell!? Did he borrow my
phone again?... Co-workers. Random bike gears. Miki and Shinkai chatting at a
restaurant… geez, still weird. A bianchi from a rival team. Shinkai in the
crowd at the last Saitama criterium… In the end he chooses several photos of
him with his cervélo taken by a magazine last summer.
New messages. Arakita never learns.
‘ok ur gay for sure but stop sendin pics of hot pro racers give us the real
stuff’
‘ashamed of ur man ?’
‘he cant be as fugly as u so fess up’
‘i new u wre lyin’
‘hes a dummy then’
Arakita snorts, she’s a nasty piece this one while the youngest is-
‘He’s your teammate from Hakone!!! I just checked in your room! does he know
that you use him behind his back for your gay fantasy? It’s disgusting have you
no shame?!  Aren’t you friends?!!! and for the last time ANSWER THE CALL’
His phone vibrates.
He rubs his forehead tiredly, “Hayato, come here for a sec.”
“I’m almost done.”
He can take all the damn time in the world for all Arakita cares because those
two have pushed his buttons way too far. And no need to damage his brain any
further with the eyesore of ten plus messages that follow the last accusation.
The irony. Shinkai definitely doesn’t seem to mind and speaking of whom, maybe
Arakita should lock the door and hide the keys so he’ll stay one more night.
With classes, cycling and his part-time job, they don’t see each other often,
it’s the complete opposite from high school. But Arakita’s mind is plenty
occupied so it’s more bearable than he imagined it would be and since they’re
going to be even busier, he better get used to it.
Five minutes later, Shinkai puts their dinner on the stove and sits beside him
under the warmth of the kotatsu, he kisses him lightly before savoring the
satsuma orange. Arakita’s watching his boyfriend instead of the match. He’s
never been so… he’s been oozing that something these last few days or weeks or
months, to an alarming degree. Arakita does his best not to harass him (a
family trait obviously); he’s possessive, jealous even, a sad fact, so be it.
But maybe it’s just that Hayato’s happy and that thought makes him feel a
little smug but also pierces his heart right at the center.
It’s a bottomless pit of bliss.
Shinkai smiles when Arakita finally shows him the messages, “It’s cute.” He
glares at him but there’s an unspoken understanding between them about the next
course of action. Shinkai puts his arm around his shoulders, the pistol pose
aimed at the phone, while Arakita takes the photo, probably a crappy one with a
bad angle and no need to smile. Then he feels the brush of fingers on his cheek
tilting his head to his left, their lips brush too, no need to hold back.
Second photo. Arakita discovers that a blurry kiss, indeed, doesn’t look that
bad.
“I prefer the second one,” Shinkai teases. “What? Ashamed of your man?”
Arakita’s gaze wanders somewhere between the TV and the window… actually… and
he sends both photos. Shinkai blinks a couple of times. “I was joking you
know?”
“If that doesn’t stop them, nothing will. Gotta use shock value once in a
while.” He puts the phone on the table and leans for another kiss and another
one right after.
New messages.
He can’t afford throwing that thing against the wall, meaning it’s time to turn
it off, but bunny freak with his unfair pheromones and natural strength steals
it, scrolls through them before handing him the device in silence with a
meaningful stare. Arakita sighs.
‘woa u win’
‘omg he’s wearing our necklace.’
‘Nii-chan please call us it’s not funny anymore. We want to talk to you, it’s
been a long time. Please.’
‘stop bein a dik we got ur bak dumbas’
Shitty brats…
He’s too weak and Shinkai’s still staring. He calls them. As soon as they
answer he knows he has to find a new nickname because he’s sure as hell cats
don’t scream like harpies.
“How’s Aki-chan?”
***** Epilogue : Hayato *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
From that distance, the serpentine road looks minuscule. It goes beyond the
hills, past the overwhelming bed of purple flora and the steaming caldera. The
air’s still cold even with the sun.
It was worth the effort, climbing up there.
Also, it provided a welcome distraction, which Shinkai appreciates for what it
is. Maybe he’s fated to hate self-reflection for the rest of his life after
practicing that for years. He glances at Arakita at his side, searching their
next destination on the map, and who doesn’t seem to suspect his internal
dilemma. Well, Shinkai has only himself to blame, he’s been avoiding the
subject since the beginning of their trip. But he’s reached his limit
apparently, here, with no one else but them.
He leans on his handlebars, “You know… Juichi said he’s going to kick me out of
the team either way. Gives me no choice.”
“Good. That’s what you need.”
“Always pushy.”
Arakita looks back at him, impassive. “Did you really expect me to say anything
else?”
No. Of course not.
Shinkai chuckles and observes the landscape again. They’ve chosen Kyushu for
their last spring break after he decided to withdraw from the senior race. To
clear his mind, or so the coach said. They all want him out of the team.
During the off-season of his first year, Shinkai began doing time trial on the
campus’ velodrome regularly and by the middle of his third year his personal
record in the kilo improved so much that the head coach took notice, and from
there on he set him up for individual sprint races. Shinkai managed both types
of competition for months until they told him before spring break that, should
he focus on track cycling, he could get a decent shot for a place on the
national team next year, after graduation.  It doesn’t mean giving up the road
entirely but it means leaving Fukutomi’s team for good.
His best friend of nine years didn’t even wait for the end of the sentence
before cutting him, “Of course you’re going to do it, that’s one in a lifetime
opportunity.” 
Shinkai still has second thoughts, he always has when it comes to exacerbating
his competitive drive, Olympics or not. He has failed in the past and will in
the future. However, even if the genuine faith they put in his abilities has
left him in dismay on occasion, he has already more or less made up his mind.
He can hear the rustle of the paper, Arakita doesn’t have patience with their
improvised itinerary. “Imagine that: if you become a keirin racer we’ll be rich
enough to buy twenty bianchis and as many cervélos.” Arakita has decided a
while ago not to turn pro. To the surprise of not many people, especially not
Shinkai and Kinjou. Although he had a huge argument about his career choice
with his father and, curiously, Miki too but only because they bicker all the
time.
“We?” Shinkai smiles, “You want me to be on your register?”
“Hell yeah, when you kick the bucket I get the inheritance.”
“Sounds like a nice trashy detective novel: former delinquent murders his
keirin lover with a brand new bike…”
Arakita shakes his head, absorbed by the tiny road on the map, and mutters
under his breath secondhanded embarrassment and how poor Fuku-chan had to deal
with a walking disaster for a decade without going nuts… or something along
those lines. Shinkai doesn’t always pay attention to his ramblings, he never
has. It’s strange, that ability to know someone so well. Even stranger, not
being tired of it. And, sometimes, Shinkai also has the impression the wheels
are turning too fast. Even if that sort of thought rarely crosses his mind.
After all, nothing major has gotten in their way until now, aside from the fact
that Arakita’s father has yet to accept the inevitable, at least Shinkai’s
allowed at the family table now.
Because they lived in their own bubble in high school, because too fusional was
unsustainable and because it blew up in their faces the first time around, in
present days it gives Shinkai more insight on how to deal with that kind of
situation. Or at least he tries the best he can. Living with someone like
Arakita is kind of a gamble but when remembering why they’re in that place now
and why Shinkai barely questions his choices anymore, it's a lot easier. In
fact, he's impatient to get there. He’s tired of dorm life and Arakita is tired
of student life.
Arakita can't stand the idea of a desk job or being put in any kind of shackles
he wouldn’t choose for himself (not that he would in the first place). He wants
to move around the country and Shinkai will go overseas often. It seems no
matter what they’re going to live half of the time apart, but with one common
anchor, a place to call their own, it’s a rather nice idea. They just don’t
know yet where they’re going to live.
Arakita sighs, “I want a big room tomorrow with a big onsen and plenty food and
no people.”
“Not our budget.”
“Small family ryokan lost in the mountain then.”
Shinkai squints, they both needed that trip, he knows that, but maybe he’s
underestimated how much. Still, he wants to tease him. “Yasu… you’re the most
romantic guy I’ve ever met.”
It’s on. Arakita’s kind of predictable when it comes to that subject and he
quickly shots him a death glare, “Feel free to move to Nagano anytime.”
“Too cold,” Shinkai nudges his leg with his knee. “And I don’t want you to
freeze over here.” 
“Why d’you always have to be such a pain in the ass?”
“Wasn’t a problem for you last n-”
His boyfriend hits his head with the map, sneering. “My bad. Mosquito.”
Shinkai laughs and leans on Arakita's shoulder, taking a good look at the
area around mount Aso on the map. He points at the forest near Daikanbo,
“Here.”
Arakita grumbles, “Urgh… more slopes...”
“I’ll pull you, promise.”
Arakita snorts, folds the map and puts it in his bag, Shinkai buckles his
helmet. They’ve booked a small hotel room at the feet of the volcano for
tonight but it’s only the middle of the afternoon, they’ve got hours to ride or
hike if they want to. Hours and days to do whatever they want.
“Just do it,” Arakita says suddenly. “At least you won’t run over bunnies on a
velodrome.”
He’s the only one who says thing like that to him, straight to the point. It’s
Yasutomo’s personal style of encouragement and it suits Hayato.
In the back of his mind, Shinkai has been wondering if choosing track cycling
over the road wasn’t some sort of escape, although passing on the left side is
hardly an issue now. It isn’t an issue at all, it’s in his head. 
Was.
He smiles and scrutinizes his partner, “I love the road.”
There’s a small trace of a smile on Arakita’s lips, “Road’s not going
anywhere.”
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Almost 2 years to write +30 000 words lmao breaking all my records.
     That was hell & bliss to go through and I’m still confused as to why
     it took so long, tho, have to admit, when shinara became popular I
     kinda stayed at the periphery due to so-so experiences in other
     fandoms (ruined ships and such) and since shinara’s AAA+++ I wanted
     to polish that story. And it’s also the most personal fanfic I’ve
     written so far, pushing the ‘post’ button was a tiny bit tricky at
     times. Ok / emo-writer talk. Thanks for your patience.
     I don’t know what to add and I do have plenty thoughts in my head but
     they’re not very articulated, so I’ll just mention a few things:
     -when in doubt I always came back to chap 1, still my favorite to
     date. Chap 8 and 9 were the most satisfying in terms of structure and
     narration. Fav scene: hmmm… perhaps when Arakita drags Shinkai along
     in the Japanese garden: taking charge and taking what he WANTS
     -weather/dreams etc… I’m way too enamored with foreshadowing, double
     meanings and stuff
     -wish I could write a proper sport scene
     -wish I had time to write samurai!shinaras
     -I wrote the first chapter knowing that Shinkai would smash his bike,
     or part or it, and that Arakita choosing not to kiss him was the
     breakup-chekhov’s gun. Said breakup scene was penned down in detail
     and scrapped midway cause my masochism has limits :p
     -can’t write Izumida IC to save my life. He’s too pure or smth
     -it wasn’t the case at the very beginning but now I love Arakita as
     much as I love Shinkai, which is a lot. The ideal impression of that
     story for me would be that both characters received equal attention.
     -I was also pretty indifferent to Fukutomi for a while (lol at 180°,
     didn’t see THAT coming)
     -thinking about a short Miki pov about when she meets the boys
     -bad English is bad
     Whoever you are dear reader, please accept this affectionate hug.
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