Indication
Of me the good comes by wrestling for it, I am the one who indicates, and the one who provokes and tantalizes
I am not he bringing ointments and soft wool for you,
I am he with whom you must wrestle...I am
The good of you is not in me ... The good of you is altogether in yourself.
Uncompleted Works, 1865-66 Notebook
Walt Whitman
Crowds had always made him nervous--a weakness he certainly couldn't afford. Even when he had been in high school, Rikuo had always hated the sheer amount of people the schools seemed capable of cramming into a single room.
At first upon enrolling at Suiryo High, Rikuo, surprisingly, hadn't minded it as much as he'd anticipated. Indeed, it seemed like it had been much too long since he'd spent time in the company of anyone other than the same three people, day after day.
But the novelty of new faces had soon worn off and with it, his patience.
The night before the festival came as a form of a relief for Rikuo, for when he entered the cafeteria he had discovered that there were few others present. It appeared as though most students were out making preparations for the upcoming festivities planned for the final day.
Undoubtedly, the kitchens were busy for the next day as well and anticipating a small turnout for dinner. The food, Rikuo figured, would be less than spectacular.
Nonetheless, when he was easily able to find an empty table--a feat he hadn't managed once in the last week--and able to have a few moments alone, Rikuo found he could care less about the menu or its taste.
Not five minutes later though, at the quiet sound of a tray being set down across from him did Rikuo remember that peace was simply not in his destiny.
Kazahaya looked rather cheerful as he made himself comfortable across from Rikuo, waving at a nearby classmate who'd called out his name, a bit too enthusiastically in Rikuo's opinion, but to each their own.
Prior to that night, Rikuo and Kazahaya had not had the opportunity to sit next to each other during mealtimes, as the cafeteria was normally organized by classes. However, with so few people in attendance, the concept had been abandoned. Still, Rikuo couldn't help feel a tad surprised by Kazahaya's decision to sit with him. Especially with the much too friendly classmate encouraging him otherwise.
Rikuo didn't acknowledge Kazahaya beyond looking up at his presence. That quickly brought back the scowl. Rikuo almost smiled; sometimes, it was too easy.
It wasn't more than a minute later that Kazahaya returned the gesture. "It's nice to finally eat food that has some flavor to it." He told Rikuo with a grin at his barb.
Rikuo smirked. "I agree. You had been cooking way too often before we left."
Kazahaya gave him an angry glare as he returned to his bowl of soup. "Jerk." He muttered under his breath.
Rikuo just smiled in enjoyment. The banter was familiar.
The lack of company in the cafeteria though was too valuable of an opportunity to pass up, and Rikuo soon made peace by starting a discussion about their plans for the next day.
They had already briefly outlined their plan during the lunch break before class had started back up, but they hadn't had enough time to go over the finer points in more detail.
Unsurprisingly, they were unable to make any headway during dinner, as they could not seem to get past Kazahaya's objections to the fact that he would be forced to wear a dress.
Rikuo could barely contain his mirth in the face of Kazahaya's vigorous protesting. "Honestly," Rikuo told him, "beyond your personal feelings on the matter, it isn't a bad plan and truthfully, I don't think we have many other options." He paused to give Kazahaya a serious look. "You're just gonna have to take one for the team." He finished.
Kazahaya's displeasure was obvious, but so was his defeat and so he capitulated with a baleful glare at Rikuo. "How is it that I always manage to end up with the crappiest parts of the missions we go on?" he asked, as though to nobody in particular.
"Well, I am the brains of the operation." Rikuo answered, almost sadistically gleeful.
Kazahaya snorted. "We both know that's Kakei-san's role."
"Kakei isn't always around." Rikuo pointed out.
A thoughtful moment passed, and then Kazahaya said, "I wonder how Kakei-san is managing the store without us."
Rikuo shook his head at the thought of Kakei and Saiga left along for too long. "No doubt they're fine; after all, they did manage without us for a long time." Saiga was probably enjoying being extra perverted without supervision, Rikuo thought silently.
Kazahaya looked surprised at the thought. "I guess I'd always assumed there had been others before us."
"No, we're the only ones." Rikuo said with a touch of self-importance coloring his tone.
"But...isn't that odd?" Kazahaya pushed.
Rikuo, not liking the direction of the conversation, adopted a bored look. "Does it matter?"
Reluctantly returning to his original point, Kazahaya said, "It's still a lot of work for one person."
"Well, don't worry," Rikuo told Kazahaya jokingly, "He still has Saiga."
Kazahaya laughed in pure amusement; the idea of Saiga helping Kakei run the store was too ridiculous for words. The joyful sound drew envious looks in their direction from some of the remaining students. Rikuo had no doubt that they wished to be in his place. Kazahaya had thrived in the environment even more than Rikuo had expected.
His thoughts brought a grin to his face and Rikuo shook his head ruefully, almost dislodging the awkward glasses perched precariously on his nose. Readjusting them, he told Kazahaya, "You've become so popular in such a short amount of time around here, I can't imagine how heartbroken they'll be when you don't return."
Kazahaya contemplated the statement with more weight than Rikuo had ascribed to it. "It's been interesting...and even a little bit of fun. But..." here he became hesitant, "I guess I'm just looking forward to going home. I'm not really cut out for school."
Home.
Hearing the word to describe the small apartment they shared gave Rikuo an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him distinctly uncomfortable. When had home stopped being the places they had grown up in, surrounded by those they called family?
Home was now the barely furnished rooms on the third floor with beds that looked more like something hospital issued than comforting; the small kitchen with the two-burner stove and no table to eat at. When had home become so desolate?
Home was now the obvious stain in the middle of the carpet from where Kazahaya had spilled a soda on the first day he'd moved in; the missing spot of paint from one of the walls where Kazahaya had thrown his alarm clock--the day Rikuo learned the only way to wake up Kazahaya was to get up close and personal. When had home become so familiar?
Irrationally, Rikuo felt the need to share his discomfort. Taking off his glasses to leer at Kazahaya, he said, "Eager to go back home, huh? If you missed being alone with me that much, all you had to do was say something."
Flushing from embarrassment or rage, most likely a mixture of the two, Kazahaya stood up quickly and gave Rikuo an annoyed glare. His lack of a comeback was glaring in the following silence.
Finally, he huffed in defeat. "Whatever, you are so immature, jackass!" And with that he stormed off, leaving his tray of food behind.
Students looked over at the outburst and quickly went to gossiping in hushed whispers. Rikuo looked at the tray of leftover food and smiled as he spotted Kazahaya's uneaten portion of chocolate cake that had been dessert.
Pulling the treat over to his side of the table, Rikuo took a large bite of the moist delicacy.
Victory had never tasted so sweet.