It had been ten years.
Perhaps, Oishi thought, he should have told him sooner.
He should have told him right from the start.
They had started drifting apart the minute Kikumaru became attached to someone else. A woman, to be exact.
At the time he had congratulated his redheaded doubles partner, and wished him well on the course of love. There had been a slight bitterness in his words, but he masked the bad taste well and Kikumaru never noticed a thing.
So the days spent with him on the large green container in the park turned into moments of solitary reflection. Had he lost his chance to just come clean? Should he just act like nothing happened, and move on? Or should he confess his feelings, mindless of the consequences?
The tumultuous stream of possible decisions never seemed to stop.
Days turned into months, and months turned into years. Soon they were in different high schools, and Oishi was sure Kikumaru, although still acquaintances, was never giving him a second thought.
And he decided to let it go.
When he entered medical college Oishi met a woman, as well. They progressed from friends to better friends, and from better friends to more than friends, and from more than friends to a full-blown boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.
Kikumaru stayed at the back of his mind still, occasionally penetrating his thoughts even when he was spending time with his wife-to-be.
Years passed, with more decisions to make and less time to be thinking about the past. Memories of doubles, a white band-aid and just pure bliss faded away smoothly.
At twenty-five, married and a doctor-in-training, Oishi thought he caught a glimpse of brilliant red hair somewhere in the train.
Times like those made him realize that he really should have told Kikumaru that he wanted something more than friendship.
But now, Oishi realised, he'd settle for just friendship.
After all, what else could he do?