Confusion

I was a very, very confused little boy

Taki Haginosuke looked around the locker room; he was the only one in there, save for Hiyoshi who was showering. He'd be showering for ages, what could possibly take him so long?

Well actually, Hiyoshi was a little funny when it came to hygiene matters, as Taki knew very well. He almost religiously carried around a set of chopsticks so he didn't have to use anyone else's, as well as numerous packs of wipes to clean the chopsticks, and his hands, and his face, and just about everything he touched.

This included Taki, who found it pretty cute, actually.

But yes, his obsessive-compulsive attitude to cleanliness left Taki sitting in the locker room with nothing to do.

What better than his little writing project? They only had until Monday to do them so he may as well get ahead and do it Friday night.

Did I count as a little boy back then? I don't really know. I'm one of nine kids and the only boy, so that probably did something. A year older than me are the triplets Akako, Kyoko and Machiko, then there's me and my two sisters (I'm a triplet, woo!) Natsuko and Nozomi, and a year younger than me are more triplets, Rini, Sachi and Usagi.

Because we were all so close in age we were all treated the same, and being the lone boy in a huge group of girls, it was cheapest for me to wear my sisters' hand-me-downs, girly jeans and flowery shirts.

I think that's what confused me first.

The feminine teen picked up one of his friend's shirts, and fingered the fabric softly. Slightly rough with dirt, uneven in texture, as though his mother had made dozens upon dozens of repairs. A slight musk about it, too; he probably wore that one yesterday as well.

He compared it to his own shirt; stained slightly purple all over from being put in a wash with his sister's party dress – not that he minded – with a hint of jasmine scent from yesterday's wash. Not a tear, not a stitch, he was always very careful with himself. He was always used to taking care of his clothes.

I always had to take good care of my clothes when I was younger because I shared them with at least two other kids. Never the skirts, just the shirts and trousers and sneakers. We all had our hair cut the same; too, we looked identical, like I was one of the girls.

That confused everyone.

What the hell was Hiyoshi doing in there?! He was taking too long. This did, however, provide Taki with a marvellous opportunity to root around in the boy's bag.

Chopsticks, wipes, books, pencil case, the usual. He smiled softly as he pulled out Hiyoshi's contact lenses; bless him, he had thought that wearing glasses would mean nobody would take him seriously, so kept his horrendous eyesight a secret until he was old enough to wear contacts instead.

Of course, everybody took Oshitari seriously, but by that point, Hiyoshi decided there wasn't space for two pairs of glasses in Hyoutei's tennis team. Taki had a bit of a weak spot for the whole idea of Hiyoshi wearing contacts, it was just so cute.

It got really confusing when I started Junior High, all my sisters went to a girls' school, so I started Hyoutei on my own. Suddenly I couldn't hang around with girls anymore because I was too different from them, but at the same time I was too different from the boys to be friends with them. Mom gave me my own room, too, and said I could have it any colour I wanted but please, not pink.

My room is purple.

Aww, how sweet. Hiyoshi was singing something to himself. Taki loved how his little kouhai was just so adorable, even if his little kouhai was taller than him. He tried so hard to be macho, but everyone knew he secretly loved it when his flamboyant upperclassman ruffled his cute mushroomy hair.

Mom kept trying to get me into new things. Football, action movies, boy things. She bought me new clothes, but nothing felt right. I just wanted to gossip and watch movies with my sisters, but for some reason that stopped being the done thing.

I also started getting my own allowance; we all did when we started Junior High. I spent it on things I actually wanted; fitted shirts, embroidered jeans like my sisters wore, jewellery, makeup, I kept it all hidden away in a drawer for a long time, but it just felt so much better knowing they were there and they were mine.

My mother was very confused when she found it.

The singing stopped, that meant Hiyoshi was probably washing his hair and didn't want to get shampoo in his mouth; an unfortunate fate that Taki himself had experienced one too many times. It wasn't his fault that Jiroh was only awake enough to make a funny conversation while he was showering.

Ah, yes, Hiyoshi always smacked him around the head when that happened, and wandered off muttering about his stupid girly senpai. Five minutes after freaking out and running to get water and panicking about what if Taki-senpai gets poisoned?!

Cuuuuute.

It was my 'secretive attitude to buying girly stuff' that freaked Mom out; if she didn't want me to be secretive about it then why did she so actively discourage me? She had a 'talk' with me.

My self esteem like, plummeted. Like wheeeeee SPLAT.

Then I started playing tennis.

For most of my first year I didn't talk to anybody and just sat around feeling sorry for myself, but in second year, Atobe (who was vice captain at that point) pretty much saved my life. Practice was on but the first years didn't appear to think they needed to show up, only one first year came to practice that day and for the most part he sat there and scowled. Atobe told me to baby-sit until he found out what happened to the rest of the first year, so I did and I said hi to the first year. We played well for the rest of that practice session, but he treated me with total disdain.

I loved it.

Sure, Hiyoshi-kun was a little brat who hated everything and treated me like crap, but he treated me just as much like crap as he did anyone else. He didn't act any different because of who I was. There was, actually, only one exception he made for me.

I was the only one allowed to touch the hair.

He giggled softly, putting the pen in his mouth as he pondered what to write next. He was actually enjoying himself, that, and the adorable little song floating from the showers. Sounded like Hiyoshi had finished washing his hair.

Gah, he was going to give him the biggest hug ever when he got out of there.

Somehow Hiyoshi-kun made everything better. We became friends, ish, not that he'd ever admit that. But then, if he wasn't my friend, why would he come shopping with me when I know full well he hates it? Why would he sit on the phone for hours and hours and hours, listening to me sobbing about a sad movie I saw?

Why would he still hang out with me even when everybody knows I have a crush on him?

Unless he doesn't know, he can be as dense as one of those planks of wood he's always smashing sometimes. Haha, cute.

Yeah…Hiyoshi-kun confuses me sometimes.

"Taki-senpai? Why are you hanging around the locker room like a paedophile?" Hiyoshi came back into the room, picked up his uniform and wandered off to change in the corner of the room, where Taki wouldn't see him.

"Waiting for you, silly"
"That makes you even more of a paedophile, stop watching me change"
"I'm not! I'm doing my project actually" Taki smiled softly. "When you're done being paranoid, I'm stopping at that nice smoothie place on the way home, wanna come? I'll pay."
"Sure, just don't make me have anything pink; you looked so gay sat there with a strawberry smoothie and a pile of cookies."

"Wouldn't dream of it" beaming, Taki scribbled a few more lines into his book before taking a now-dressed Hiyoshi's arm and dragging him away to have a nice, blueberry smoothie or six.

I guess being confused can be good sometimes; it makes life a little more interesting.