He doesn't race any more.

Blinking in surprise at the text flashing on the screen before him, Makishima was sure he must have misread it.

Like at all? Only solo events?

Staring at the annoying little pen and note scribbling across the bottom of the screen, the lanky man sat back against the wall behind his small bed, waiting. It was the first time he'd worked up the courage to contact one of Hakone's members after his relocation, but since he was struggling to maintain any contact with Toudou it had been his only option.

He doesn't ride at all. He works at the inn and travels but he hasn't ridden in months.

Falling back against the bed, his head throbbing with an incoming headache, the green haired boy sighed. Pen picking back a message to Hakone's ex-ace sprinter, he thanked Shinkai for his time and logged off.

Rolling onto his back as he closed his laptop, Makishima stared up at the low ceiling of his room with tired eyes. Ever since his move to the UK, his relationship with the loud-mouthed mountain god had digressed massively. It may have had something to do with the manner of their parting, the quick phone call before his trip to the airport had been the last time they'd spoken and in hindsight it had been a bad idea. Ever since his decision to move had been finalised with his family, his approach to informing the Hakone ace had been playing heavy on his mind. Replaying situations over and over in his mind never ended in a positive outcome. It was always tears. Tears from the smaller man that would ultimately lead to a broken heart and sorrow for the both of them. So he'd pushed the news aside and never broached the subject, at least until the very last minute.

Standing before the wide windows of the airport lounge he'd fiddled with his phone for almost an entire hour before finally putting through the call.

"Maki-chan." Jinpachi's cheerful tone wasn't dimmed even at the late hour, indeed he may not have even been sleeping. It wasn't honestly that late, but from waking up that morning and to coming to his current position, the day had felt endless. "How are you feeling? I wish the weather would pick up, I am so cold. What was for dinner? It better not have been-"

"I'm leaving." The silence through the phone lasted for a millisecond as Jinpachi bounced back, tenacious as ever.

"You coming for a visit?" Clearing his throat, Makishima shook his head as he stared out at the vast concrete runways beyond the glass.

"Not this time. I'm going to see my brother."

"In the UK?" Frowning at his phone, the Souhoku ace couldn't help but crack a smile. Of course Toudou would remember where his brother lived, even if he couldn't remember telling him. The boy remembered everything, always.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Bring me back a T-shirt. Like one with the flag one it, they're super cute." Wincing, the tall boy took a deep breath, struggling to keep the conversation on track.

"I'll have to send one over." Laughing through the phone, Jinpachi didn't wait for him to continuing, jumping instead into a spiel about his need for a new wardrobe and how he hoped his extra hours at the inn would cover it.

"Jinpachi, just listen for a minute."

"Maki-chan?" It shouldn't be this hard, not really. He'd already said goodbye to everyone else. His parents, his best friends, the entire cycling club and yet it was almost impossible to get the words out to his arch rival. The never ending pain in his ass but also his greatest admirer. It shouldn't be this hard. "You okay?" Squaring his shoulders and catching his reflection in the dark window surface, Makishima rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"I'll be moving over there." The pause was longer this time, but it didn't take long for the sleeping beauty to snap back.

"Oh my god! That's so cool, I suppose you'll go to university over there? Can I come visit? I've never been to England before. It'll be the perfect place to pick up a new wardrobe, everything will be so Western."

Patiently waiting for his chatter to dull to a lull, Makishima paced back and forth along the window.

"When do you fly out? We'll have a party or something." Pausing mid step, the tall cyclist's stomach churned as he thought over the reply.

"In about an hour." There was no break in the silence this time, it continued until Makishima worked up the courage to go on. "Yeah, it was pretty sudden. Last minute flights are usually the cheapest-."

"Liar." If he'd ever heard Toudou sound so angry it had never been directed at him, even while riding and in their many races. Licking his lips nervously, Makishima tried another approach.

"I just didn't want to upset you."

"Well I'm pretty fucking upset, Maki-chan." This was ridiculous, he was getting all worked up over nothing. There was no reason he should be feeling this guilty, Toudou was his friend, nothing more. So why was this so hard?

"Look, I just didn't know what to say and I'm sorry. You can still visit, I'll put you up and everything."

"I don't think so." The usual shrill and cheerful tone was gone, replaced by a flat monotone. "I know where we stand now, Maki-chan. Good bye." The click of the final dial tone left the Souhoku climber feeling completely dejected. Staring at his phone as he collapsed into the row of uncomfortable airport seating, the dull aching pain in his chest intensified ten fold.

And that had been the end of it. He'd sent a final message before he'd boarded the plane and another online message once he'd touched down in the chilly UK. From then on it had been nothing. He had seen the green online indication of Facebook every night since and yet every message he sent went unanswered. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, especially now that the spring was coming to an end and the mediocre British summer was rolling in. His brother was out every night of the week, parties and social gatherings straight after work was a regular routine. But none of it interested Makishima, he wasn't the best in any social situation, and now outside of his high school years he was beginning to appreciate the time spent with his friends and clubs.

And Toudou. Finding his phone empty of any messages or voice calls was a strangely lonely predicament. A year beforehand he would have been thrilled to not have his voice mail clogged up with annoyingly needless messages from his rival. But now he would have done anything just hear that ever-so-endearing nickname in Jinpachi's voice.

Being alone had never really bothered him. People and crowds in many ways had often been a pain, an unwanted distraction away from cycling and studies. Now locked away on the other side of the world, everything felt a lot harder without the motivation of company and friends. Rolling onto his side and pulling the blankets up high over his head, the ex climber awaited the morning with sour content.

Adjusting to riding his bike in the city wasn't as much of a struggle as he'd first assumed. Much of his route to work was along the flat, winding streets of Piccadilly and thankfully his office kept a neat, safe bike rack in the underground parking lot. But there was no challenge in it. Logic reasoned his desire to reconnect with Toudou was linked with his overwhelming desire to climb mountains again. And maybe a small part of that was true.

Shedding his spandex before entering the office floor, Makishima kept his head down, making a beeline for the same studio he shared with his brother and their associates. He had been overjoyed at the opportunity to work with his brother's company. Fashion, like cycling, was something he prided himself on and at the offer of a paid internship he was ecstatic. But the fantasy of working for an actual fashion label had quickly faded after his first couple of weeks.

Everyone was always so loud and dramatic, his brother included, and they always wanted so much from him. No one had time for a part time intern who had university on top of his studio duties. At least they did appreciate his input on some of the collections and the make-up artists were always buying him free coffees.

Settling at his desk, head aching from the lack of sleep, Makishima jumped as his brother breezed past and pulled a face, followed quickly in turn by the head of their department.

"Summer designs!" When the department head yelled everyone jumped. Keep his head down as he pulled out his laptop, pad and sketch tablet, Makishima listened to the rambling of the flamboyant man as he listed off the styles of the coming season. "Are you taking this down?" Nodding dumbly, Makishima posed his hand over the note as if taking notes continually, pausing only as the older man strode past his desk and scoffed. "I need you and your brother at your best for the coming show, three new models are coming in from Japan and on all accounts the bitches are divas. So I'll need you to act as translators and peace keepers."

Groaning internally, but plastering on a dumb smile Makishima nodded once and put his head down, wishing desperately to be out of his boss' line of sight and to get on with his new designs. "Did I hear a 'yes, sir'?" Cleaning his throat with a small cough, the skinny boy was happy to kiss ass if it meant getting out of the line of fire.

"Yes, sir."

Sipping the scalding hot cup of coffee, the cyclist cursed his lack of a traveller's cup. This was the third cup of coffee he'd been through today and each time the Starbucks down the street made him pay a stupid tax for dinky paper cups. Tapping his pencil against the blank page and searching through his work roster, he crossed out a Saturday shift in favour of giving it to his brother. No doubt a bunch of famous international models would want to party it down on Saturday night and he wanted no part of it. Not when he could be at work comfortably by himself, eating take away and watching Project Runway. All the while pinning over Toudou, of course.

Nearly slapping himself, the green haired man groaned as he stared at his upcoming work roster. This show was going to be a nightmare. Dropped on them straight in the middle of the spring season, they were expected to pump out a flood of designs and prototypes for the early Asian summer. He had thankfully been assigned only three full outfits with one set of accessories for each. One male design, two female. Thankfully unisex sets were his thing and while bright, plastic necklaces were the in thing for the next couple of months, his distaste for them was legendary.

"Lost in your own little world?" Superficially, the Makishima brothers may have looked remarkably similar with their unique hair and tall frames, but their natures couldn't be more different. Charming and outgoing, Daisuke Makishima was the shining example of Western assimilation. His English was almost pitch perfect and with his stylish and relaxed nature, people flocked to him like moths to a flame. In comparison, Yuusuke had always appeared very dull and in many ways had never lived up to his brother's grace or reputation. Except maybe in cycling, he had a line of medals to prove that. But while his brother was always the life of the party and was never without friends or company, the very real reality of how lonely Makishima really was had been hitting home hard.

"Just working out the translator duties. And he's sure there is only three of them?" Nodding as he nicked his brothers large coffee, Daisuke pulled a face at the bitter taste.

"Yup, the rest are Chinese. This is disgusting, do you not know how to use sugar?" Snatching back his cup and lording over it protectively, Makishima turned his laptop towards his pestering older sibling.

"I don't drink it for enjoyment, I drink it for necessity. How does this fit with you? I'm happy to do the day shifts so long as they don't need me at university or training." Humming as he placed a set of large, square glasses atop his nose, Daisuke scanned the file quickly.

"It should be fine, but roster yourself on for the Saturday shift as well, even if you don't plan to do it, log it in."

Frowning as he turned the computer back and typed his name in, Makishima went to ask why only to have his brother beat him to the punch. "After eight pm on a Saturday is like triple over time. Only working four hours is like double an eight hour work day. Just do it, even if you just fob it off, it's totally worth the cash." There was sense in that, extra money was good and he was giving up his Saturday night for it. They didn't know he'd be doing nothing on that Saturday, but he could have been very busy for all they knew. Getting reimbursed for that trouble would be very worth it.

"So do you need a hand with your collection pieces?" Rubbing the back of his head, Makishima shrugged.

"I don't think so, if I have any trouble submitting it to textiles I'll call you." Ruffling his younger brother's hair with a none-too-gentle hand, Daisuke stood and stretched.

"Not a problem, just make sure it doesn't take up too much of your time. University is important too and mum would kill me if you failed because we pushed you too hard here." Waving him off with a smile smirk, Makishima tried in vain to fix his tousled hair.

"Won't be a problem. Please keep your hands to yourself." Laughing as he turned to head to his office, Daisuke paused and spun on his heel.

"So Playground in the city is having a bottomless drink event tonight. You in?" Shrugging nonchalantly, Makishima went back to his laptop.

"Ask me later." Tisking as he left, the older Makishima rolled his eyes.

"You'll just say no anyway."

The ride home was always harder. His brain was never firing correctly and he'd nearly been cleaned up by overly eager motorists twice. Bike parked safely in its cage, Makishima slipped off his cleats before entering the apartment to the sound of music and the smell of rich perfume.

"Dai, your brother is here," a female voice called out from the kitchen as Makishima skulked past and down the hall towards his bedroom.

"Ah ha, excellent." Dashing out of the living area, neatly pressed designer shirt half unbuttoned, Makishima pulled a face as his brother offered him an open beer. "Come on, just one," he was prompted, having the ice cold bottle pushed into his hand before he could protest. "Please come out tonight."

The whine in his brother's tone was just embarrassing and the ache in his head said otherwise.

"Next time, I want to work on these designs before uni study."

"But you have all weekend for that." Pouting ridiculously, Daisuke put an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Yuu, you have no friends. No social life, all you do is sit around and study like a weird hermit." Tugging away from his brother's grasp, Makishima shook his head, leaning against a nearby door frame, beer still in hand.

"I cycle." Groaning exasperatedly, his brother nodded, but refused to admit defeat.

"Yeah and you're good at it, but what about life, like actual life with people and things. At least get a girlfriend or something."

Taking a slow sip of his beer, Makishima shrugged, not meeting his brother's eye.

"I'm not good with girls or people in general."

"I've noticed," Daisuke said dryly. "But you could at least make the effort and try. If you get married early then maybe mum and dad would get off my back about it so much."

"Selfish," Makishima said, washing his words down with another sip of beer. "And who says I want to get married?" Rolling his eyes, the older boy ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, knock some chick up or something. They just want grandkids really."

"Who says I like women?"

Opening his mouth and closing it slowly like a fish, Daisuke was suddenly lost for words. Laughing at his brother's speechless state, Makishima continued off down the hall to his bedroom. Only to have his brother call out just as he reached his door,

"But if I'm gay and you're gay, who's flying the plane?"

Checking his clock for the third time in as many minutes, Makishima ran a hand over his eyes and groaned. This was no fun, university study was no fun, these designs were coming along at a snail's pace and everything just seemed to be slow going. Glancing at his laptop, he pulled up a tab and clicked on to Facebook for a mindless distraction. Reading down the lists of statuses, check ins and photos, he glanced at the chat box.

Toudou Jinpachi [online]

His heart jumped a little as he pulled up the chat box, fingers typing slowly but gaining speed as he sent through a message.

My brother wanted me to go out again tonight. Social interaction is such a drag, you'd probably love it. Cute Asian boys are just adored over here, so you be treated like a real God no doubt, especially at the clubs.

Pausing as he looked over what he'd written, his finger lingered over the backspace key, but instead pressed enter. Typing a letter's worth of a message in a matter of minutes, Makishima had outlined his new duties for the upcoming fashion show, his issues with Starbucks paper cups and bitched about the drivers who'd nearly ran him over. By the end of his rant, he sat back and read back through the entire message inbox.

It looked stupid, just him replying to himself over and over. The only thing that gave him any hope was the small shadowed text of SEEN that popped up after each message. Maybe that made it worse. He knew Toudou was reading them and yet still hadn't responded. Not that there was much to respond to, it wasn't as if he'd ever poured out his heart online or anything. Outlined how lonely he really was or how much his heart hurt every time the thought of his rival crossed his mind.

I'm sorry.

Sent.

Seen.

But I'm sure you're tired of hearing that.

Sent.

Seen.

I miss you.

Sent.

Seen.