They go way back.
Way, way back before soccer struck their hearts, pulled them into this crazy, futuristic mess, and propped a hidden barrier in between them. It was only a matter of time before everything spiraled out of control and he would see him walking out… out and out and out of his life.
It's not an instant friendship- they meet accidentally, on the far end of the playground. No one goes there anyway, but Kirino does because he doesn't really get why his parents dropped him to play with his 'friends.' He thinks he'll just finish the whole hour of playtime in wasted breaths. Shindou, with his brown waves and pleasant demeanor, is an odd presence in that far end. However, Kirino doesn't mind. He decides to like him, then.
Kirino Ranmaru is six. Shindou Takuto is also six. Kirino's father is an international music composer, Shindou's parents practically devote their whole lives in intriguing classical selections. Their families each own at least two estates across Tokyo, maids assigned in the background, butlers that cater to their every need, and a chauffeur that takes them anywhere and anyplace.
To everyone, they are two peas in a pod.
At that age, Kirino actually finds himself believing it.
"Kirino, we should play soccer." His brown-haired counterpart says earnestly one morning. It's an early sunrise in the Shindou household. In addition, it's a regular day, so Kirino is over at the estate, as per usual.
"Soccer?" He's surprised, so he utters this blatantly. Their morning tea, Earl Grey, has already been served by the morning maids. Shindou's got a teacup in his hands already, but he's nowhere near the sofa where Kirino rests. He's seated on his place, his primary home- the grand piano. He's learned not to bother the boy whenever he sets his butt down in front of the instrument.
"Hmm," Shindou smiles down on his tea. "It'll be nice to have a sport."
"But…" Kirino mutters, "Why does it have to be soccer?"
He's not much surprised when Shindou actually hears that. He's also not surprised when he ignores it. "Think about it, me and you: we'll be unstoppable!"
It's a child's dream, one that, when a child is of age, it is kept and tucked and stowed away when he decides toys and childish things are not for a grown-up.
Kirino decides he'll stay as a child for a while, and goes on to kick a black-and-white ball around a grass field as proof.
During the summer, they practice together on a large field Kirino's family owned.
He still doesn't like soccer, but seeing the instrumentalist's smile seems, at that time, worth it.
(Soon, their parents signs them up for a soccer clinic. Unsurprisingly, Kirino lags behind.)
They are too different. They are no longer the same boys that play in the far end of the playground. They play soccer together on a gigantic field in Tokyo. They don't need to use the edge, they need the whole place altogether. But despite the soccer ball that closes them together, Kirino can only feel himself running the farthest away from him.
"Ranmaru, you should take this seriously. I've taken you to the best football clinic I could find in the country. It better be worth it."
"Why are you playing soccer anyway? You're not that fit to play the sport."
"You look too much of a girl to play football."
"Practice dribbling, you're incredibly slow."
"Ranmaru, work hard. Be better. Run faster. Everything is in the speed."
"Why can't you be like Takuto?"
(The final remark makes him burn.)
He starts tying his pink hair into pigtails, so it will keep his long hair out of the way when he plays. He desires to become incredibly focused in order to succeed his way out of Shindou Takuto's shadow.
He aims to be the fastest one out of everyone, with his lithe body and thin legs. He fetches his butler to acquire heavy books on anything about soccer from the library, and he reads almost the complete history until he collapses on his queen sized bed at five-thirty am. He aims to be stronger, faster, better; because, no, he's not losing to his stronger, faster, better best friend.
It's only a matter of time before the coach from the clinic distinguishes him and lets him do more drills in order to strengthen his defenses. This is an improvement, he knows this is. Before, the coach hardly knew his name.
Beat that, Shindou, he thinks to himself one day when he's doing four extra sets of laps around a soccer field two hours post-training.
He, then, eats his words when they join a small kids team in the middle of August and Shindou Takuto is proclaimed the captain. Immediately.
He's holding in a tough sigh that is, at any moment, about to leave his lips. But, suddenly, the other boy turns to him and grins. And for some reason, Kirino finds himself smiling back.
"UGH, SHINDOU TAKUTO!" He wants to scream in his pillow and force his nails into his skin until he can feel himself bleed.
(Summer becomes a harsh reality of becoming stronger, faster, better.)
"You know, Kirino," Shindou murmurs, clutching a soccer ball tight in his chest. "I never realized Soccer could be a big part of me."
"Really? That's surprising. Honestly, I never really took you to be an athletic person when you were five," Kirino takes a thought of a five-year-old Takuto in his silk pajamas and already-talented fingers and runs it over his head. Over and over again, until he feels like he's thought of it too much, like yellowed and dog-eared pages of a favorite paperback.
This makes the other boy chuckle in response, leaving the conversation in a silent pause. It's not awkward at all.
"Well," Kirino drops the next line. "We better get home. You don't want your mother to see you all muddy and grass-stained like this again. I swear, she's going to give me an earful if she sees you like this."
As Kirino stands up to pat the excess dust that has found its way on his makeshift soccer uniform, he doesn't feel the warm gaze the soccer maestro-to be is giving him, right at this moment.
(Kirino is too distracted. After all, he's still got some drills to do before supper.)
Shindou Takuto doesn't say this to anyone; but on that warm, warm day when he looks at Kirino Ranmaru under the soft beam of the sunset, he realizes that home is not a place.
It's a feeling.
The next few years is a soft blur, a kind of blur you'd want to get lost into; because it's full of things and memories you'd want to keep to yourself.
With his bright pink hair and pretty eyes, Ranmaru scarily drops ten pounds in two weeks. It's not just two weeks of hell training, it's also two weeks before junior high starts.
This time, Ranmaru knows what he wants. He wants to be captain.
(Kirino learns to hide his genuine emotions when he's around the other boy, Shindou Takuto. It's hard, and there's distance; but he does it anyway.)
By April, the first day of term starts with beautiful cherry blossoms awaiting by his window pane. He wears his new uniform with a gentle thought of first day wishes and soccer, and he eats his breakfast with a silent demeanor while his father tells him that it's a must for him to enter the soccer club immediately.
Because Kirino knows it will be a waste of yearly training if he doesn't get in.
The year of junior high also sets a foot down on Kirino's sexuality. He doesn't seem to mind it, as he has soccer to focus on. If he talks to Shindou about it, he knows Takuto will simply tell him that it's just a phase he'll get over with.
Yeah. He doesn't tell anyone that he has been eyeing boys and looking into girly things, cute things; because, he knows everyone will make a big mess out of it. So, he stays silent and keeps training.
(Seconds before he leaves with his chauffer and Shindou on his side and the inner turmoil swirling inside of him that's bound to implode one day, Kirino puts on his sister's mascara, looks in the mirror and thinks, I am not different.)
"Something's different with you today, Kirino."
"Oh, huh, really? Maybe it's just my first day jitters. Aheh, gomen…"
They join the soccer club, but land on the second team.
On other news, Shindou Takuto becomes a gentle, charming prince in the buzzing crowd of first years. Girls quickly go on chances to be next to him, and for some reason everyone's looking up as if he's a third-year.
Kirino is lying if he says his mind or his heart doesn't notice.
It's not even the third week of school when Takuto is offered to climb in the first team. To Kirino's relief, him too.
That afternoon is a celebration of sorts. The two boys go on a somewhat of an ice-cream date. He hasn't even opened his mouth when Shindou leaps up to tell the man Kirino's own ice cream order, so he feels a softness underlying the beats of his heart, knowing that his friend knows what he likes.
For a guy with amazing hand-eye coordination, Kirino's quite stupid. This leads to his ice cream cone falling.
"You have ice cream on your- here," The brown-haired boy brings up his thumb to wipe the remaining cold substance near his lips. Takuto's eyes have gold specks in them up close, is what Kirino thinks. "And, well, everywhere actually."
Kirino's too bothered by the mess he has made on his uniform to notice Shindou's reddened cheeks.
"Kirino? Need your help," he mumbles through the phone at two am in the morning with a soft sigh and static accompanying his voice.
"What do I need to do, oh high and mighty Takuto-sama?"
"I told you not to call me that!"
Shindou's more relaxed with Kirino. He does not tense up, nor get ruffled with his feathers under the threshold of his abode, his abode being the other boy.
He's not like the dreamy, respectful soccer player that walks down the halls of Raimon in the day. There are no girls chasing him, or teachers to praise him for his latest test score.
It's the halfway through the night, Kirino has no idea why the hell is he awake. And honestly, he needs some shut-eye for tomorrow's morning training.
But here he is, holding his phone and listening to this music-abled boy, so he thinks, I can always sleep again in class.
(He can hardly keep his body up in the morning. He faints in the middle of plyometric drills, but Shindou, the gentle and charming prince he is, catches him before that occurs.
The gentle prince smells like cherries.)
He tells him when the blooming of cherry blossoms come to an end.
"I like boys." He blurts. It's superficially blunt, and Kirino's a good speech person. He's had multitudes of high grades amongst impromptu speeches. But this type of speech. No. There is no need for extra adjectives or add-on descriptions. It's this type of confession where it needs to be said instantly. He feels that this three-worded sentence sets his meaning straight.
So it catches Shindou off guard behind his grand piano and peppermint tea.
Kirino abruptly slams his favorite teacup down (with the white and gold roses on the bottom lining) and leaves the sitting room of the Shindou estate.
Shindou's an excellent soccer player, which means he's an incredible runner too.
"Why did you leave?" Is his honest question. Oh Shindou, with his soft voice and vibrant eyes of a crybaby.
Kirino's left slack-jawed at his presence. In Kirino's room. Right now.
"I-i-ii-i.."
"You chipped off your favorite teacup." His brown eyes are cutting into his soul. It's smoldering.
"Oh no.." Kirino echoes lamely. "Gomen."
His thoughts are running at high speed, he honestly doesn't know what to say anymore. Or what to do. Or what to-
Shindou grips his pink-haired boy's shoulders with both of his hands and brings Kirino to face him.
"And I like you, Ranmaru. Always have, since we were young and I met you and I-"
Kirino presses his lips against the instrumentalist. He can feel the blood rushing to his brain and the rapid thumping of someone's heart. He can feel the softness of lips and the heat.
This leaves Shindou as a blubbering mess.
(They kiss and kiss and kiss until their lips are bruised and hair are as messy as each other. Shindou doesn't leave 'til the clock strikes ten.
"Call me Takuto," is his goodbye. His eyes are neither smoldering nor looking into his soul anymore. His eyes look at him like he's home.
Kirino thinks that maybe, just maybe, Shindou's always looked at him like this.)
It's all fun and games until… someone gets to be proclaimed as captain.
"Shindou! It's got to be you. You have an amazing gift that we all can't help but notice. It's you that can help us with the holy road. It's only you," the second-year student pleads.
"But I'm only a first year…" Shindou replies, looking lost. Quite ruffled too.
Kirino sees red, it's a light red. But it's not what he usually feels. This feels way too distinct, as if he's felt this before. He thinks and thinks and thinks, and well, yeah.
He knows what this is. He's been feeling this his whole life. It's been with him since he has walked upon the road of football.
With his strong legs and toned body, he's eager to shift on his foot and run from this wretched building. He wants to scream until his throat is raw and aching. Everything is the same as it has always been many years ago. It doesn't matter if he's six, twelve, or fourteen, he's going to have his eyes narrowed at everything Shindou gets or does.
He doesn't though. He doesn't walk off the building.
…Because, Shindou, with his stupid, handsome face and talented plays, turn around to face him, once again, just like many years ago, and shoots him a wary smile.
Kirino can only remember the surprising night two weeks before, the one that sealed their relationship to a close. The one that promises hugs and kisses and homework help. How one can see a lover.
Kirino Ranmaru faces the boy, head on, and musters up the biggest smile he can.
Kirino hopes Takuto takes this and tucks it underneath his heart, where no one else can find it. There is a pregnant pause.
"Okay, I accept the position."
(The pink-haired boy can only curl down the ends of his lips when they win the next three games of Holy Road under the guidance of Captain Shindou Takuto.)
(It's sad to say, but maybe it's destined for him to feel this way.)
R&R! x M
(Rantaku for life)