Title: Big Kick Off
Disclaimer: Ookiku Furikabutte is Higuchi Asa's property
Credit: Immeasurable thanks to my beta readers, katiesquilts & NagemaakteLie
Warning: soccer AU; also, to avoid annoyance, those who are knowledgeable about Japanese culture and soccer are advised to skip reading the notes below
Cultural notes:
Pocari Sweat is a mild-tasting, relatively light, non-carbonated sweet beverage and is advertised as an "ion-supply sports drink." It has a mild grapefruit flavor with little aftertaste. It is sold in aluminum cans, PET bottles, and as a powder for mixing with water. Its trademark colors are blue and white.
The genkan or entrance halls where people take off their shoes are generally made one step lower than other floors in houses. For this reason, Japanese people admit their guests into the house by saying "oagarikudasai" or "please come up" as opposed to "please come in." Hence, Mihashi's mom told Abe to come up in this fic.
When the Japanese call other people "uncle" (or aunt, grandfather, brother, etc.), it doesn't necessarily indicate any blood tie; in fact, it's quite common to address strangers in this manner. For example, an American kid would say, "That guy asked for directions," while a Japanese kid would say, "That uncle asked for directions." Hence, Abe calls Mihashi's mom "auntie" in this fic.
A shallow bow is the bow to an angle of fifteen degrees, and serves as common salutations of "Good Day" greeting. It is more formal than the cursory bow (see below). This is the type of bow Abe uses to Mihashi's mother in this fic.
In the canon series, Mihashi loves yakimochi, but during festivals, it's far easier to find yakidango. They taste rather similar because both were made with mochiko or glutinous rice flour. The main difference lies in the cooking method: the mochi dough requires excessive pounding after the steaming process whereas dango dough is simply mixed with hot water and shaped into small balls before being boiled in salty water. Also, there are various shapes and sizes of mochi, but a uniform one for dango.
Ramune is a carbonated soft drink most notable for its original concept of bottle design. The bottles are made of glass and sealed with a marble; the codd head held in place by the pressure of the carbonation in the drink. To open the bottle, a device to push the marble inward is provided. The marble is pushed inside the neck of the bottle where it rattles around while drinking. Later, Ramune is also available in plastic PET bottles and cans. There are at least 35 flavors known today.
A cursory bow is the bow to an angle of five degrees, and serves as basic nod of "Hello," for conveying an extremely simple, impersonal greeting. This is the type of bow Shinooka uses.
The particles "na no" used toward the end of this fic indicates onna kotoba (literally "female words") or the feminine way of speaking.
There are some Japanese terms mixed in this fic (kakiguri, haiden, etc.), but explanations are provided very close to the said words.
Soccer terminology:
Step Over Nutmeg (often shortened into Nutmeg) happens when a player intentionally plays the ball between an opponent's legs, runs past the opponent, and collects his own pass.
Back Heel Pass (often shortened into Back Heel) is a deceptive move where a player brings his foot in front of the ball and uses his heel to flick it backwards.
Cruijff Turn is trick of evasion by feigning a pass or cross of the ball, but instead of being kicked, the ball is dragged behind the player's standing leg with the inside of his other foot, prompting the player to turn through 180 degrees and accelerate away from his opponent.
There are only 10 players in the canon Nishiura baseball club, but I increase their number into 12 in this soccer AU fic.
Positions:
#1 Keeper: Abe Takaya
#2 Fullback: Suyama Shouji
#3 Sweeper: Tajima Yuuichirou
#4 Unmentioned OC
#5 Center Fullback: Sakaeguchi Yuuto
#5 Defensive Midfielder: Mizutani Fumiki
#6: Outside Midfielder: Nishihiro Shintarou
#7 Unmentioned OC
#8 Offensive Midfielder: Hanai Azusa
#9 Forward: Oki Kazutoshi
#10 Striker: Mihashi Ren
#11 Winger: Izumi Kousuke
#12 Bench Player: Unmentioned OC
"Mihashi, don't hesitate!" The goalkeeper's loud voice rang from the opposite side of the soccer field. In terms of volume, no other Nishiura player could best Abe's voice, which he inherited from his father.
That was all the ace striker needed to hear; as long as Abe Takaya was the one who said it, any word became a creed to Mihashi's ears.
'This ground has absorbed my sweat. This goal post bears the marks of my shots. With Abe-kun to watch my back, I have nothing to doubt.'
Within seconds, the ball flew from the corner of the field. The kick was none too powerful, for it was aimed with pinpoint precision. It hit the top right corner of the goal net, safe from the keeper's reach, before dropping harmlessly onto the grass. No one in the field had anticipated the supposedly corner kick to be a direct shoot. No one but Abe Takaya, that is.
Normal players would pass the ball to a teammate whose position granted a better shooting opportunity, usually standing within the penalty area. Not so with Mihashi; the angle which others deemed extremely difficult for shooting was part of his daily practice menu.
Nishihiro, who played as the keeper on that side of the field, did not even have the chance to move. The other players stood openmouthed. They had been together in the soccer club for more than three months, but no one had realized that Mihashi's trademark precision shooting extended this far.
Since the Nishiura soccer club had only twelve players, they had to play six against six whenever a practice game took place. The selection of members for each team was rotated each day in order to create more variations for offense and defense tactics. Abe, Mihashi, Sakaeguchi, Suyama, Mizutani, and Izumi filled today's Team A, while the rest were grouped as Team B.
"That's great, Mihashi! With your shoot, winning the summer tournament will no longer be a dream," remarked Tajima, the sweeper, with a large grin on his face. Everyone knew that Tajima was the true prodigy, but they all sympathized with Mihashi's confidence deficit and tried to encourage their striker whenever the opportunity arose, even when they played as opposing teams like this.
Mihashi blushed at once, but made no comprehensible reply. His teammates did not bother to ask what he was mumbling about or how long he intended to keep his head down; they had familiarized themselves with his timid personality.
"Yosh, now it's our turn to score!" Hanai—the offensive midfielder and the team captain—moved down the field, running toward the opposite goal.
Nishihiro kicked the ball to the middle of the field, where Oki was positioned. The forward dribbled the ball past two opposing fullback players—Suyama and Sakaeguchi—and then passed it to Hanai. However, having predicted its trajectory, Mizutani, the defensive midfielder from Abe's team, jumped to intercept the pass while the ball was still high in the air. With a head-butt, he sent the ball flying to Suyama's direction, only to be snatched away by Tajima.
After stopping the ball with his chest, Tajima dribbled it. Sakaeguchi lunged at him with a sliding tackle, but Tajima leaped, tucking the ball between his ankles. Upon landing, Izumi—the winger from Abe's team—tried in vain to steal the ball from the freckled sweeper. When it came to Step Over Nutmeg, nobody in the Nishiura Soccer Club bested Tajima. The feint was done by stepping over the ball with one leg and hitting it with the other, but the way Tajima did it was so smooth that most opponents would not realize it until all movements had been completed.
"Hanai, catch!"
The ball soared toward the captain, who stood less than ten yards away from the penalty box. The defenders rushed in. Squaring his shoulders and extending both arms at the sides for balance, Hanai struck the ball just before it touched the ground. It was a full volley shoot which ordinary keeper might find impossible to save, owing to its tremendous strength.
Abe staggered back. His shoes nearly crossed the goal line. Even so, he managed to secure the ball. He could still feel the ball vibrating against his gloved hands even long after he caught it. "Not bad, Hanai; my hands are numb."
With a powerful kick, Abe sent the ball forward. Izumi received the crisp pass and rolled the ball closer to Nishihiro's goal—controlling the ball with precision while running at top speed was his specialty. Soon, Tajima caught up and blocked his way. Izumi knew better than to make a futile attempt to challenge Tajima's proficiency in feints. Instead, he brought his foot in front of the ball and flicked it back to Mizutani with his heel.
The problem with a Back Heel Pass was that it had to be done without looking around, so that the player might end up giving the ball to an opponent. Tajima turned to chase Mizutani; yet, Izumi wouldn't let him. He didn't need to hold the most agile boy in the team for long; his teammate quickly passed the ball to their ace striker before other players came to Tajima's aid. As the herd of four players swarmed toward him, Mizutani made a long pass. Through their combined forces, Izumi and Mizutani successfully delivered the ball to Mihashi.
'Trust is not a one-way road. Abe-kun, I believe in you. As long as you're there to watch my back, I'll be all right. Let me prove that I will not betray your trust; leave the goal scoring to me.'
Mihashi collected the ball with his thigh and dribbled it past two of his opponents. Nearly half the length of the field, Oki came in his way, but he shook the forward player off with a Cruijff Turn. He lifted his foot over the top of the moving ball without touching it and swerved his body semi-circularly to get Oki off balance, and then knocked the ball past the large-nosed forward with the inside of his other foot and raced away.
A polar opposite of Tajima, Mihashi had a tendency to catch the ball with his left leg, while shooting with his right. His swerve shot was a goalkeeper's worst nightmare, since the path of the ball remained unpredictable. Locking his ankle at a ninety-degree angle and keeping his body relaxed so that he could get a clean shot on the ball, Mihashi charged his shot by taking a full backswing with his instep.
The ball seemed to miss the goal at first, but then it spun counterclockwise and swerved to dive into the white net with micrometer-perfect exactitude.
"GOOAAAALLL!" Izumi screamed at the top of his lung simultaneously with the high-pitched sound of Momoe's whistle and the chime of the large clock on the schoolyard. "Mihashi, you did it again! You dribbled past three opponents and tucked the ball into the corner of the net perfectly!"
It was exactly six o' clock. The sky was suffused with crimson and the last golden ray of the sun announced the end of the day. Suyama, Sakaeguchi, and Mizutani rushed to pat Mihashi on the back, a bright smile on each of their faces.
At another tweet of Coach Momoe's whistle, the Nishiura soccer players stopped running around in the field.
"Boys, let's wrap up for today!" The voluptuous woman called, her braided hair fluttering lightly in the wind and her energetic voice booming across the lush grass of Nishiura High.
The players didn't need to be told twice to clear the field. They consisted of freshmen only—since Nishiura was a fairly new school in the Sakitama Prefecture—and they all had witnessed how their coach squeezed juice out of an orange, barehanded, on the first day of their club activity. No one wanted to defy such monstrous strength, even though its owner was a bright young woman who was not yet in her mid-twenties.
At the side of the field, the club manager, Shinooka, had been waiting for the players with a smile gracing her lips. On the benches lay three piles of fresh towels, two trays of drinking bottles and a square container. "Good work, everyone!"
"That looks yummy!" Tajima pointed at the opened food container.
"Ah, my aunt came over from Aichi and gave us a basketful of lemons from her own garden," the soccer club manager announced. "Give them a try; they're all pesticide-free."
With saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, Tajima extended his arm, his fingers poised to pinch one of the honey-soaked lemon slices.
"Use the tongs; everyone will be sharing from the same box!" A voice reminded him from behind.
The freckled boy reached for the pair of tongs lying next to the container and replied, "Hahaha, my bad, Hanai."
"Sheesh!" mumbled the captain as he took of the bandana from his neatly shaven head.
A few yards away, Abe's voice filled the air. "Mihashi, did you eat anything before today's practice?"
The striker nodded.
"Then have some. If you didn't eat, the acid in the lemon could upset your stomach," explained the goalkeeper.
Mihashi beamed at Abe and thanked him for the advice. 'He cares about me.'
But behind the Abe's shoulders, Izumi whispered to Sakaeguchi and Nishihiro, "There he goes again, that nagging babysitter Abe."
"Yup."
The three boys chuckled.
"What are you three conspiring behind my back?" Abe snarled.
Sakaeguchi replied with a grin, his index finger pointing skyward "Looks like it's gonna rain." The other two scurried to get their towels.
Abe looked up. Just as the center fullback had claimed, the sky looked grimmer than usual, thick steel-colored clouds rolling in a rapid procession.
Abe turned to Mihashi. "Did you bring an umbrella?"
Mihashi shook his head timidly, his eyes refusing to meet the other boy's out of fright in case Abe reprimanded him for lack of preparation.
Instead, Abe spoke in a slower and more measured tone, as though he had been expecting this to happen, "It can't be helped. Leave your bike at school for today. I'll take you home."
'But what about tomorrow?' Mihashi thought. 'Will I have to walk to school?'
Not daring to question Abe's decision, he followed the taller boy to the shower room.
"Get ready in your front yard at five fifteen tomorrow morning; I'll bike you to school," Abe remarked as they walked.
'Ugh, so early,' Mihashi groaned in his mind. He never left home earlier than five thirty; in fact, he often departed around six o' clock. School began at eight thirty, but the football club had daily morning practice at half past six.
Ten seconds later, Abe still had not heard Mihashi's reply. "Well?" he asked crossly.
"Yes." The word sounded too hasty and its speaker rattled.
It amused Abe how Mihashi became like this when there was nothing to be flustered about—not for normal people anyway. But then, "normal" might be an overrated description for Mihashi, a boy who had been ignored by his teammates in middle school and who possibly had a certain degree of trauma.
###
It was not that the wearer of number ten of Mihoshi Middle School in the Gunma Prefecture was bad at soccer. Sure enough, Mihashi Ren wasn't the fastest runner or the brightest strategist in the team. Yet, he had an absolute control of the ball in terms of accuracy. When he kicked, he could aim the ball with miniscule precision, such as the top edge of the goal, or time the kick so that the ball dropped in front of a teammate right after the opponent vainly performed a sliding tackle.
"10," however, was the number of the team's ace and was sought by many. Mihashi's status as the headmaster's grandson only deepened others' envy. These factors, combined with his diffidence, resulted in a rumor that Mihashi was made a striker because of his family connection rather than his talent.
The culmination of the team's hatred for Mihashi took place in the summer tournament during his second year. That day, in the seventeenth minute of the second half of the game, the score was 1−1. Both the defensive midfielder and the center fullback from the Karamorita Soccer Team were guarding the Mihoshi striker. Mihashi was sure he could still score a goal if he kicked from his current position, but he heard his captain shouting for a pass to the offensive midfielder.
In his hesitation, the ball was stolen from the Mihoshi striker. The Karamorita center fullback swept it high, creating a quick pass to the winger, who, in turn, transferred the ball to the forward.
'Please, don't go in!' Mihashi prayed when the Karamorita forward kicked the ball toward the Mihoshi goal. The sphere of linked black pentagons and white hexagons soared so impeccably, slicing through the air and rendering hundreds of spectators silent with anticipation.
With all his might, the Mihoshi goalkeeper jostled for the ball; he blocked it at the cost of fractures to his distal fingers and a wrist sprain.
The score remained stagnant until the referee blew his whistle to signify the end of the match, in which penalty shoot-out followed to break the tie. The Mihoshi reserve goalkeeper stood no chance against the opponent's and the match ended with Mihoshi's defeat.
Afterwards, the rest of the team spoke to Mihashi with the bare minimum, such as the game strategy, but always excluded him in every other conversation. They would rather have Kanou, their current winger, to replace Mihashi's position as an ace, but nobody dared to speak in the open against the headmaster's grandson. Mihashi's shyness evolved into a graver meekness because of this. He even developed timidity against loud-voiced people.
Even though Mihashi's goal scoring carried the team to the regional championship the next summer, his teammates remained cold to him.
In his final year of middle school, Mihashi pleaded with his parents to let him choose a school other than Mihoshi High, where the majority of the soccer team would be studying.
###
It hadn't started pouring yet when Abe and Mihashi approached the schoolyard, where students' bicycles were parked. With every step he took, Mihashi worried more and more.
'What if Abe-kun changes his mind about taking me home?'
'But what if he doesn't? I'm afraid to be near him.'
'But I don't want to part from him too soon either.'
'What is it that I actually want?'
"Here." Abe handed Mihashi his umbrella. "When it rains, you can hold it while I'm steering the bike."
Mihashi accepted the folded umbrella and took the back seat. It was not overly windy that day, so the risk of the umbrella frame getting busted out was quite low. The streets were flat for the first five minutes, but then they reached a slope. Mihashi swallowed hard. They were going downhill; what if he fell from the bike if he didn't cling to Abe? But would he dare to cling to Abe?
Whether Abe could truly hear his thoughts or the two of them simply had synchronized mind, Mihashi did not know. Nevertheless, he was more than glad to hear Abe say, "Hold on tight."
So Mihashi did. Abe's diaphragm was compact with muscles—the result of his daily exercises. For a split second, there was an urge within the brown-haired boy to rest his head on his teammate's back.
'No! What was I thinking?' Drenched with guilt, Mihashi sighed and stared hard at Abe's billowing white shirt.
The slope ended in a junction, marked by a fifteen-story apartment and a convenience store directly opposite the building. This convenience store was the one Mihashi sometimes stopped by on the way to school, since the melon breads sold here tasted nicer than the ones in his school cafeteria.
'Has Abe-kun tasted those melon breads yet? Maybe I should tell him about it? Or should I bring him to that store instead? No, no, no. He must think I'm pushy. He's been kind enough to hang out with me even outside the soccer practice when he could have chosen anyone else—someone who's nicer to talk to. I couldn't possibly ask for more from him.'
In the end, Mihashi didn't speak his mind.
The rain started tumbling down shortly afterwards. Mihashi opened the umbrella, sheltering Abe and himself under its waterproof canopy. As the bike kept gliding on the soft pitter-patter of the rain, he looked at Abe's shoulders.
'They're broader than they seem during the practice,' Mihashi told himself inwardly. He leaned forward, just enough to let his face brush Abe's billowing shirt and closed his eyes. The summer breeze sweeping across his cheeks felt so comforting…
###
Come to think of it, the first time he met Abe had been in a convenience store too, though Abe wouldn't have remembered him. One Sunday, on the second month before his middle school years ended, the Mihashi family went on a trip to visit the grave of Ren's grandmother. On the way, Ren's father stopped the car in front of a convenience store and the family bought some refreshments for travel supply there.
There were at least five other groups of customers in that shop, but the one that caught Ren's attention was two siblings carrying a soccer ball and busily discussing the latest game by their favorite soccer team. By the look of it, they had just been practicing together. 'The elder brother seems to be at the same age as me, but he is so dependable,' thought Ren. The younger brother's face, on the contrary, was obscured by his cap; Ren assumed that the boy was younger based on the difference in their height. 'How nice it must be to have a brother to discuss soccer with! My teammates hate me; I have no one on my side.'
From behind one of the shelves, Ren watched the brothers pay for two packages of bread and two bottles of sports drink at the counter. When they had left the store, Ren returned the Melon Bread and Coke he was holding and bought a Coffee Baumkuchen and Pocari Sweat instead, the same as the two brothers' choice.
"Oh, you didn't pick Melon Bread today? That's rare, Ren," said his mother.
The brown-haired youth only nodded. Buying the same meal as the brothers wouldn't get him anywhere, he was aware of that. Still, no matter how delusional it was, he wanted to make believe that this brought him a step closer to them. He had been hesitant on his intention not to study in the Mihoshi High School, but that moment, he made up his mind: he would try his luck with another high school soccer club.
Three months later, during the High School Entrance Ceremony, Mihashi noticed Abe. 'It's the elder brother that I saw in the convenience store. If he's going to join the soccer club, we'll be teammates. I want to run in the same field as he does. This time, I'm nobody in this school. If the team accepts me, it'll be my real skills instead of my family influence.'
That day, after school, Mihashi stood before the door of the Nishiura soccer club. He wanted to join the team, but fear encumbered him. Sweat streaked down his back. His arms became too heavy to lift. It was impossible to open the door.
Mihashi had been standing rooted to the floor for several minutes when he heard a voice from behind, "If you're not gonna enter, step aside. You're blocking the way."
The speaker was very tall, and in Mihashi's frightened eyes, this boy did not seem much different from the typical build of a school delinquent—not that his closely shaven head helped, in any case. Mihashi hastily removed himself from the spot.
The taller boy stepped forward and slid the door open, revealing a stretch of green field and the fresh scent of grass. It was this scent that blew fear away from Mihashi's mind, but it was the sight of the boy who had bought the Coffee Baumkuchen three months before that gave Mihashi the courage to step in.
"Joining in, are you? That's the spirit!" The tall boy greeted him.
'He doesn't seem to be a bad guy,' thought Mihashi at his adversary's friendly tone.
"I'm Hanai Azusa. Who are you?"
The brown-haired boy mumbled, "Mm-mi-mihashi … Ren."
However, at that precise moment, a short, freckled boy standing in the field, waved his hands and shouted, "YOO-HOO, GRANDPA, I CAN SEE YOU!"
Outside the school fence, there was a garden, in which an old man, wearing a straw hat and carrying a shovel, waved back at the freckled boy with a hearty smile.
Meanwhile, Hanai said to Mihashi, "Huh? Your voice is too low; I can't hear you."
Mihashi repeated his name, but before he finished, the freckled boy had run across the field toward their direction, reproaching Hanai, "Hey, don't bully him!"
"Who's bullying whom?" answered Hanai indignantly. "I was just asking his name."
"Is that true?" This time, the freckled boy turned to Mihashi.
Mihashi nodded.
The freckled boy grinned and scratched the back of his head. "Hahaha. My bad. I thought you looked kinda fidgety from afar. By the way, the name's Tajima Yuuichirou. What's yours?"
Hanai introduced himself again. However, it became Mihashi's turn, his stutter had not disappeared completely. "Mi-mihashi Ren," he said.
"What's that?" asked Tajima. "Mimi…" he pointed at both ears "…hashi?" He imitated a person holding a pair of chopsticks and pinching a piece of food—mimi means "ears," while hashi means "chopsticks" in Japanese.
Three boys, who had just come in from the door, laughed at Tajima's joke.
"No, just Mihashi," mumbled the brown-haired boy again with a flustered face.
If the saying "saved by the bell" had any truth in it, this must be the moment Mihashi experienced it in reality, though the "bell" came in the form of a loud clap instead. The clapper was none other than a beautiful young woman whose long, shiny hair was braided at the back.
"All right. It seems that everyone's here. Line up, boys, and then let's start introducing ourselves. I'm Momoe Maria, your coach."
Mihashi heard a snort from one of the boys nearby, "Look at that, dude; a chick as soccer coach! Gimme a break."
Momoe, who currently stood next to a ball, lifted it from the ground simply by using her heel. Some of the boys eyed her intently, clearly impressed by her ball control. But her demonstration did not end there. She kicked the ball in an angle that it swooshed past the ear of the boy who had mocked her by a mere two centimeters gap. The ball hit the lower part of the fence and broke its chain-link. The boy went pale, gulped, bowed an apology, and ran off while screaming, "I cancel my membership."
"Anyone else raises his objection?" she threw the question at the twelve remaining boys.
Every single one of them frantically shook his head.
Next, at her energetic command, the boys positioned themselves in a single line and the introduction session went on without a hitch. Nonetheless, Mihashi, who was not gifted with good memory, only managed to remember four names: Hanai and Tajima—because they spoke to him first, the coach, and the Coffee Baumkuchen boy, whose name turned out to be Abe Takaya.
Mihashi would learn to remember the rest of his teammates' names and positions on the forthcoming weeks. But for that day, a single thing filled his mind to the brim: Abe Takaya was the goalkeeper.
###
"Oi, Mihashi, wake up!" Abe's booming voice expelled him from the dreamland. Mihashi had fallen asleep for a couple of minutes. His grip on the umbrella handle had slackened and the left sides of both boys' uniforms were drenched with rainwater because of the askew polyester canopy.
Mihashi opened his eyes in both panic and embarrassment, gasping, "S-sorry!"
"We'll arrive at your home after the next turn," replied Abe simply.
Mihashi spent the remaining minutes making sure he hadn't left a trail of drool on Abe's shirt. He dismounted from the bicycle as soon as Abe skidded to a halt in front of his house. Above them, the sky was still overcast and the rain showed no sign of ever ceasing.
"Abe-kun, you'll get even more drenched if you continue biking your way home in this rain. Won't you wait inside until the sky clears up?"
Something within the gleam of his teammate's eyes told Mihashi that Abe was going to act tough and say something along the line of "This kind of rain won't make me down with a cold." Therefore, Mihashi grasped Abe's sleeve with a pleading look, "And … and today's math homework … I need … there are some problems that I can't solve."
Feigning a sigh, Abe leaned his bicycle against the inner fence of Mihashi's house. And yet, the moment he followed Mihashi inside, he forgot to wear his mask of reluctance.
As soon as they stepped into theentryway, Mihashi said, "I'm home. Mom, Abe-kun's over," while Abe announced his presence with the standard greeting, "Pardon my intrusion."
The entryway looked just the same as the last time Abe had seen it, when he and the rest of the Nishiura soccer team visited Mihashi to discuss the strategy for a practice game against the Yamabuki High School. With this thought, Abe placed his wet umbrella in the cylindrical umbrella holder next to the door.
Mihashi took two pairs of slippers from the shoe rack while Abe was bending to remove his shoes. "Take these, Abe-kun." He put a pair on the ground, next to the guest's feet, before putting on the other pair himself.
The two boys heard footsteps approaching from the inner part of the house before they saw Mrs. Mihashi appearing to the hallway from the kitchen. "Welcome back, Ren and do come up, Abe-kun. My, my, what a weather; look at how drenched you both are! Ren, lend Abe-kun some fresh clothes so I can wash his uniform together with yours. You two, get change now and I'll collect your wet clothes when I bring you tea."
"Auntie, there's no need," Abe replied with a shallow bow. "I'll be staying here for only about half an hour or so."
"Won't you stay for dinner? There'll be too much left if you don't help us finish the apple and honey pork curry." In both her expression and voice, there was a longing that was definitely too earnest for what counted as a mere courtesy. It was no secret that Mrs. Mihashi had always been fond of the Nishiura soccer club members—most especially Hanai, with Abe as the runner-up—as though expecting them to be her sons.
"OK, I'll have dinner here. Thank you, auntie," answered Abe.
"It's settled, then." A huge smile adorned Mrs. Mihashi's face before she returned to the kitchen, humming merrily.
Abe walked behind his teammate as they climbed the stairs to the attic, where Mihashi's room was. This was one of the things that made him envious of Mihashi. As the only child in the family, Mihashi Ren had the entire attic for himself. While the size of the room did not differ significantly from Abe's, the privacy was of a completely new level. Abe Takaya shared the second floor with his younger brother, which meant that Shun frequently came in and out of his room to borrow his manga or other things. And Shun did not always knock.
"My mom likes you so much," remarked Mihashi as he closed the door of his room. "She often says that both Hanai and you are so reliable."
Considering her real son's wimpy character and inferiority complex, no one could blame her yearning for one or two more sons. Despite this, such a fact wouldn't do any good to boost the Nishiura ace striker's confidence, and so Abe gave out a non-committal shrug as he set his schoolbag down on the wooden floorboard, near the low table. Then, rummaging through the bag, he took out his math textbook.
Mihashi, who had headed straight to his wardrobe, pulled out two sets of T-shirts and pants. He didn't think much when he took his wet uniform off his body, but a sudden discomfort intruded upon his mind when Abe did the same. Those broad shoulders, those sturdy clavicles, those strong abs…
Mihashi swallowed thickly. Of course he had seen Abe, along with the rest of the soccer team, naked in the locker room on almost daily basis … so, why must his heart thump so loudly now? Even as turned his body away from Abe, he couldn't help imagining Abe staring at him. The Nishiura striker squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about it any further. Then, after taking a sharp breath, he finished dressing as fast as he could.
"So, which ones are you having a problem with?" Abe asked when they were finally sitting with their books open.
Mihashi skimmed the questions as fast as he could and pointed at a random trigonometric problem. In truth, Mihashi had not taken a peek on his homework yet. Shortly before the bell rang earlier that afternoon, Kirigai-sensei—the math teacher—had told the students to answer the questions on pages forty-six and forty-seven and to submit the homework the day after tomorrow.
Abe read, "Kinoshita-san measures the angle of elevation from a point on the ground to the top of the flagpole and find it to be thirty-five degree. He then walks twenty meters towards the pole and finds the angle of elevation from this new point to the top of the pole to be forty-five degree. Find the height of the flagpole."
Mihashi immediately regretted choosing that question. Sure, it seemed to be one of the longest ones, but after a closer look, he had no idea how to solve the equation on the next line: Prove that [cos(x) - sin(x)][cos(2x) - sin(2x)] = cos(x) - sin(3x).
Abe only need a couple of seconds pause before he started to scribble: tan(35) = h / x and tan(45) = h / (x - 20), where h is the height of the flagpole.
There was a soft knock, followed by the opening of the door. Mihashi's mother came in with a tray containing a small basket of senbei rice crackers and two glasses of iced mugicha barley tea.
"Dinner will be ready at seven," stated Mrs. Mihashi before closing the door with her left hand, the wet uniforms in her right hand.
The obviousness of Mrs. Mihashi's doting for Abe was clearly shown at dinner through her eagerness to offer seconds to the boy. "Aww, look at the two of you," she cooed at the sight of Abe wiping away the curry sauce on her son's cheek. "You look just like real brothers."
Even her husband agreed on that, and Abe's cheeks inflamed immediately, even though Mihashi thought there was nothing out of ordinary with that—after all, Abe did this every day at lunch break.
When it was time for Abe to go home, Mihashi saw him off. Folding the umbrella on the entryway as fast as he could, Mihashi handed it back to Abe. "Thanks for the ride and the math homework."
"Don't mention it. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Bye."
But Mihashi followed Abe to the porch and on to the fence of front yard.
Abe told him while unlocking his bicycle, "Hey, Mihashi, there's no need to see me off this far. Go back inside."
'But I want to be with you, even if it's just a second longer.'
Mihashi took a deep breath as he stepped back into the yard. He hadn't heard the tires of Abe's bicycle gliding away. In fact, his ears caught no sound of motion at all.
'Is Abe-kun watching me?'
Mihashi continued walking groggily toward his house. He did not hear Abe leave until he closed the door, but his heart did not stop hammering even as he climbed upstairs.
Abe showed up on time the next morning. Mihashi's mom, who noticed his arrival from the kitchen window, commented, "Oh my, you have such a good friend, Ren."
'Friend.'
The ace striker wondered if that was the correct term. Surely he'd love to stay close to Abe, but a part of him—or rather, a major part of him—was afraid of the goalkeeper. He could not find the logic behind it; after all, Abe was never unkind to him. Abe made sure he consumed nutritious food on daily basis, checking how much he weighed, recommended his soccer training menu, and even massaged his legs after each practice (which earned them curious glances from the rest of the team). Most of all, he truly believed Abe's words: "I will make you a real ace."
So, what reason could actually justify his fear of Abe?
He could not find the answer. All he knew was that his heart beat very rapidly whenever Abe was within sight. And then, there was also a tingling sensation somewhere inside his stomach whenever Abe touched him.
Yet, to be honest, fear was not the only thing he felt for Abe. The other day, he found the goalkeeper asleep on the bench. 'Abe-kun must be exhausted, yet he still forced himself to practice with me.'
Before he knew it, Mihashi extended his arm, reaching for the sleeping boy's hair. It looked so soft, so nice, so inviting… When the tip of his finger was an inch away from the dark strands of Abe's head, the goalkeeper stirred.
Mihashi pulled back in a hurry. 'What did I even want to touch him for?'
Why indeed would he want to touch someone he was afraid of? Mihashi thought of it. That must be because fear was not the only thing he felt about Abe. The goalkeeper was, after all, the first in the team who had acknowledged him.
###
During the Nishiura's soccer team's practice, Coach Momoe had each student try out various positions to determine their respective roles. Tajima's keen eyesight and agility made him suitable for nearly every position. Even though Coach Momoe did not announce their positions that day, it was plain to see that he would get the most flexible role of all: sweeper. Mihashi, on the contrary, was incompetent at … well, truth be told … everything except goal scoring. His running speed was average. He did well with ball control while dribbling and passing, but wasn't that impressive when it came to defending the ball from his opponents. Even so, Abe, who had managed to catch the ball that all other players had kicked, failed to catch Mihashi's.
"Wow, that's some accuracy you got there!" Izumi whistled in admiration. "Tell me: Did you use to be a striker during middle school?"
Color was drained from Mihashi's cheeks before he gulped and made a hesitant, tiny nod.
"Cool!" Mizutani added, placing his hand on Mihashi's shoulder in encouragement. "No one here seems to have great goal scoring experience. We'll count on you from now on, ace. Don't let us down, 'kay?"
But Mihashi's body stiffened into a rigid board of anxiety.
"What's wrong?" asked Mizutani, "Did you twist your ankle? Got a cramp?"
Mihashi shook his head. Then, the rest of his body, too, was shaking uncontrollably. The next moment, he was down on his knees, and Mizutani hurriedly withdrew in fear of hurting the timid boy. "I'm sor—"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," cried Mihashi. "I shouldn't be the striker and obstruct my teammates. I should have left the field long ago, but … but…"
Suyama remarked, "I don't get it. With such skills, I can't see how you bothered other players in your former team."
"I w-was never nearly as good as Kanou-kun, b-but I was made the team's ace … because my g-grandpa owns the school." Mihashi broke into sniffles. Plump drops of tears went past his chin, dripping onto the lush green grass.
"You could have resigned, and yet, you stayed in the team. Why?" This time, it was Oki who asked.
"I love soccer so selfishly." Although the stutter was absent, Mihashi seemed to be at the verge of wailing.
The entire team gazed at Mihashi, looking lost—was the boy before them really a high school student and not a child who sobbed at the slightest tendency of conflict? Then, Hanai's loud voice drowned Mihashi's whimper, "Damn right! You like soccer and play it. What's wrong with that?"
"The whole team would be happier if Kanou-kun had been the ace. Mihoshi might even win the national championship last year."
"What's this?" The voice was not booming in term of volume, but in the crying boy's ears, it pierced sharper than a thousand blades. "Are you claiming that because of your fault alone your school lost? Don't get conceited, brat! Soccer is a game in which eleven players must help each other. If the teamwork sucks, what are you to take the credit for the entire blame?"
Then the speaker's expression softened and her lips melded into a benign smile. "Nishiura is not a team that looks for a scapegoat over a defeat. Not while you're under my supervision anyway." With that, the coach flexed her fingers.
Momoe looked each boy straight in the eye. "Team, do you want Mihashi as a striker?"
One second had barely elapsed since the coach articulated her question, and an enthusiastic "Yes" spilled from Abe's mouth. "This team needs Mihashi."
Soon, everyone followed Abe's step and within the lapse of a few tearful eye blinks, the field was filled with the Nishiura team cheering for Mihashi. It was probably best that Mihashi didn't suspect this treatment to be more of an attempt to cheer him up than the coach and the other team members' real, desperate dependence for the wimpy boy. No matter how much the newly-made ace striker attempted to stifle his cry, tears kept flowing down his cheeks. He couldn't have been more grateful that he enrolled to Nishiura High; all his life, there had been no moment when he felt more accepted than the present.
###
With a small sigh, Mihashi set down his pencil, and its tubular body rolled from his open book to the wooden desk. This mathematic homework was killing him; how could Abe answer this sort of questions effortlessly? Come to think of it, Hanai exceled at Japanese history. When it came to memorizing, Tajima had the most impressive brainpower … though he had the tendency to employ this gift in the fields that most people consider of less importance than study (viz. porn). But the point was: Why were his friends good at multiple things, while he did not seem competent at anything other than soccer?
Mihashi continued his homework for a while, but no matter which formula he applied, the equation wouldn't match. In the end of the twentieth minute, he gave up. Standing on tiptoe, he reached for the soccer ball above his bookshelves. He bounced the ball a few times with his head before dribbling it all the way to the backyard, earning his mother's rebuke, "Ren, how many times do I have to tell you: No soccer on the stairway?!"
The backyard of Mihashi's residence was large enough for two ample-sized barbecue tables to be lined up together, but even this size was modest for a soccer field. For this reason, the Nishiura ace striker frequently practiced on the riverbank in addition to his home routine. There was one thing he could do at home, but not on the riverbank, school, or any other fields, though: here, in the backyard, he divided the goal post into 4 x 12 grids segmented by ropes. This was his secret weapon, the key to his precision kicking.
'The second grid from the upper left,' the striker mentally dictated himself. One kick. The black-and-white ball soared. It went in.
Mihashi picked the ball and instructed himself to aim for the third from the right of the bottom grids. Again, the ball came through. That night, he didn't miss any goal. When he shot in the absence of pressure and in a relaxed timing, the probability of his shot missing the goal was near zero. But during an official match, the rush, the timing, the opponent, along with several other possible factors, would challenge his accuracy.
###
The next day, the Nishiura boys paired up to dribble the ball down the field, while getting blocked by one adversary.
Coach Momoe gave a blow of whistle, then announced. "And that's a wrap for now. Tomorrow we'll do more individual training, as most of you still need to work out on smoother feints."
The team members grabbed their towels, and then headed straight to the shower room with lively chatters on their lips. But Mihashi lagged behind. As always, there was a certain melancholy each time he looked at Abe's broad shoulders from behind when their daily practice ended.
'Ah, there he goes. I'm alone again.'
'God, I know my brain capacity isn't something to be proud of, but still, won't you give me a reason—any reason, even a simple one will do—why do I still want to be near him even though the soccer practice has ended?'
'Why?'
"Mihashi, what are you doing, standing like a statue like that?"
'Abe-kun, why do you have to turn your back on and care for me? If this goes on, my mind won't be able to think of anything else but you.'
"N-nothing." Mihashi could not hide the panicky tone in his voice as he rushed to join the rest of the team.
"What's your weight today?" Abe asked him, as he always did at the end of their daily practice.
"Still at fifty three kilos."
Abe nodded and briefly patted Mihashi's back. "Good, that makes it the fifth day. As I thought, you're in no danger of losing weight unless we're having a championship. Keep up the good work; eat regularly and get plenty of rest."
Mihashi's mouth formed a sheepish grin. It was one thing that he managed to live up to Abe's expectation, but his joy seemed to stretch beyond that. Even now, after so many daily repetition, he still did not get it why he felt an elation for no reason at all when Abe touched him.
"Hey guys, there'll be a summer festival the day after tomorrow. Wanna meet up?" suggested Tajima in the locker room after shower.
###
At seven PM, two days later, most of the Nishiura boys had already assembled at the agreed place when Mihashi arrived.
"Now all that's left is Abe," said Hanai, and it was then that Mihashi noticed the goalkeeper under a maple tree, heading a soccer ball quietly.
"A … be-kun?" Mihashi asked as he approached his teammate, uncertain that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. "Why have you grown smaller?"
"Huh? What do you mean I've grown smaller?" The boy he addressed asked back with arched eyebrows, his heel guarding his soccer ball on the ground, "Besides, how do you know my name?"
"Eh? But … but … we play soccer at school, don't we?" Mihashi's face grew pale. It was bad enough Abe's height decreased and his voice turned squeakier, but if he were to lose his memory too…
"Oi, guys, you're already here?" This time, the voice was that of the Abe they knew.
"You're late, Abe!" remarked Hanai.
"Hey, I had come before you guys did; I just needed to go to the toilet for a bit."
Mihashi's eyes sparkled at once. "Wow, regular Abe-kun and mini Abe-kun!"
"Who're you calling 'mini,' you dumbass?!" yelled the shorter Abe.
Mihashi wasted no time in taking refuge behind Tajima's back, clinging to the freckled boy's shirt. He remembered now that he once had seen the goalkeeper in a convenience store together with his younger brother a few months back. The taller Abe hushed his younger brother, his voice firm, "Shun, watch your tone and language!"
"Yes, yes. My bad, but still he shouldn't have called me 'mini.' I'm one of the five tallest boys in my class, you know," the so-called Shun answered with a pout. He was back on the ball heading practice, but now his aim became poorer.
His brother chastised him, "Oi, Shun, watch it! Whenever you're pissed off, you head-butt the ball too low. You should always use the center of your forehead. If it gets too close to the bridge of your nose—"
"There's a risk it'll damage my brain. Yeah, I know," interrupted the younger Abe.
Somewhere in the background, Mihashi began to mumble, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
But before Mihashi finished, Shun pointed at the direction behind Izumi's back, his pout melding into a grin, "It's Ken and Ryo!"
Shun waved Takaya goodbye and ran towards his two friends.
"Don't bother others with that ball!" the older sibling called out before the three middle schoolers disappeared into the crowd. Then, Abe turned to his teammates. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"
To nobody's surprise, Tajima replied with a cheeky answer, "The plan? Enjoy the festival to the fullest, of course."
The Nishiura boys walked in a group for a while. Then, Oki wanted to look at the magazines. Next, Nishihiro grew a sudden interest in raffles prizes, while Mizutani was drawn into the deep-fried food. Eventually, with Izumi's attention devoted to washi papers, the group broke apart.
Mihashi, predictably, followed wherever Abe went. His gaze never left Abe as the raven-haired boy tore through the crowd, opening a path for them. Even from the back, the sight of Abe's figure was a natural magnet to Mihashi's eyes—that dark hair, those sturdy shoulders, those vigorous hips, those long legs…
'Ah, that feeling again. Why is it that when I'm this close to Abe-kun, I feel so light and my body may not be touching the ground?'
Abe stopped in front of a balloon stall. "Mihashi, what color do you like best?"
'But Abe-kun couldn't possibly thinking of buying me a balloon, right?' "Erm … uh … I…"
"Argh, you always take so long to answer! Forget it." He turned to the balloon seller and pointed at one of the round yellow balloons. "I'll take this one."
"That'll be a hundred and fifty yen." The mustached vendor handed over the balloon of Abe's choice.
Yet, what Mihashi feared did come true. After paying, Abe handed the balloon to Mihashi. "Hold this, so that I'll know how to find you in case we get separated."
Although Mihashi thought he was too old to hold a balloon like that, he nodded and did as Abe commanded. Mihashi held the string above where Abe's hand was, but their skins brushed at each other's for an infinitesimal fraction of time and Mihashi sensed electric currents flowing from the tips of his fingers.
'Strange,' Mihashi thought; Abe had frequently touched his hand during the soccer practice, so there should be no reason to feel anything different now. Then, his nose caught the scent of charcoal-grilled yakidango wafting through the air.
"Smells nice," Mihashi remarked. He then closed his eyes and deeply inhaled, focusing his senses on the aroma alone. It was no easy task, since the air was also filled by a mishmash of savory aromas from the grilled meat and corn-on-the-cob; the sweet aromas from the cotton candy,Satsumasweet potato, and chocolate-coated banana stalls; as well as the perfume, cologne, and sweat from the passing festivalgoers.
The moment Mihashi reopened his eyes, Abe was no longer by his side. As he watched the taller boy's figure slip amid the throngs of people, his mind screamed: Abe was leaving him.
Mihashi thought of calling Abe's name, but could his timid voice compete with the sizzling hiss of the grill from the ikayaki stall, the rustle of cellophane wrappers of the candied apples, the banging eruption from the shooting game, the squeals of excited children, the flaps from hundreds of paper fans, and the haggling over the plasticmasks of superheroes?
The Nishiura striker stretched his hand, but withdrew immediately. Although the distance between them was short enough for him reach for Abe, he couldn't bring himself to do more than merely staring at the goalkeeper. He wanted to touch Abe. He really did. And yet, what reason did he have to justify the realization of his intention into action? Shouldn't his friend be allowed to have some fun instead of babysitting a wimp like him non-stop?
Crestfallenness draped over Mihashi, whose head now was pointing down. The ground was flooded by sneakers, platform shoes, heeled shoes, geta clogs, sandals, ankle shoes, boots, and flip-flops of various sizes and colors. Around him, people young and old walked with their families or friends, and from the sound of their chatters, he had no doubt that their faces were brightened with smiles. Of course, he wanted Abe to be happy too, and yet … and yet… There could be no place to find greater loneliness than here, in the crowd.
"Here." A familiar voice called him.
Mihashi looked up and noticed Abe, who, upon returning with three skewers of yakidango, handed two of them to Mihashi. The shorter boy stared, his heart heavy with guilt; Abe was so kind to him and he inwardly had been accusing his friend of leaving him just a few minutes prior!
"Thank you, Abe-kun."
They stepped to the side, where it was less crowded, and ate in silence for a while. Then, as Abe finished his skewer, Mihashi asked, "Abei-kuwn, hyuu gib me dwo, buh owly ate one yursewh. Why?"
"Either speak or eat, idiot! I don't understand what you're saying."
Mihashi gulped the glutinous substance in his mouth hastily, then said, "You give me two, but only ate one yourself. Why?"
"Anyone can see you couldn't take your eyes off the yakidango stall."
Mihashi spoke no more. Just knowing that Abe had gone through the trouble of jostling his way through the sea of festivalgoers and queuing in front of the yakidango stall all for his sake made a surge of warmth arise within him, welling up in his chest. At this rate, simply admiring Abe wouldn't be enough. He wanted to hold Abe. He wanted to cling to those strong shoulders tightly. He wanted to rest his head against the crook of Abe's neck. He wanted to whisper his thanks to Abe's ear again and again. He wanted to have Abe for himself. Forever.
But, of course, he couldn't do that.
So, instead, Mihashi brought the second skewer of yakidango to his mouth and sank his teeth into the grilled rice cake on top. He gobbled the whole chunk in his mouth and stuffed the second dango even before he finished chewing the first one.
Abe looked at him amusedly, never knowing this side of Mihashi before. "Hey, no need to rush. No one's gonna snatch the rest of the dango from you."
The next second, Mihashi choked.
"Told you so. Geez!" Although his voice sounded vexed, Abe's tone was not unkind. He even reached for a bottle from his back pocket and, after unsealing it in a hurry, handed it to Mihashi. "Drink this."
'Oh, it's watermelon-flavored Ramune,' noted the brown-haired boy as he gulped the liquid from the slim glass bottle; the urgency of his coughs didn't allow him the luxury to read the label. While the design of this kind of bottle uniquely belong to the Ramune brand, Mihashi's lack of frequency in consuming this particular type of carbonated drink gave him no further indication whether the different shades of redness was meant for strawberry, raspberry, or any other flavor.
For a moment, no sound passed between them, bar the rattling of the marble inside the Ramune bottle. Then, seeing that Abe did not seem to bring another bottle in his possession, Mihashi asked, "What about you, Abe-kun?"
"I'll get myself something else later. I couldn't buy two drinks back then. The stalls were overly crowded. The vending machine only had little stock left, while there were so many people queuing behind me," answered Abe.
Mihashi handed the bottle back to Abe, only half of its content remained. "Then we should share."
There was hesitation in Abe's movement, but the pleading look in Mihashi's eyes made him accept the offer nevertheless.
He had just finished his second gulp when he heard, much to his annoyance, Tajima's voice, "Hey guys, did you see that? Abe and Mihashi have just shared an indirect kiss!"
"TAJIMAAA!" Abe roared. He leaped to the freckled boy's pursue, his eyes glaring demonically and his cheeks blazing crimson.
Chuckling as he ran, Tajima teased him further in a singsong voice, "See, see, who's blushing now?"
Rather than getting themselves involved in such a childish cat-and-mouse chase, Hanai, Sakaeguchi, and Suyama—who had previously been with Tajima—inspected the kingyo-sukui or 'goldfish-scooping' game from the nearby stall. For a while, Mihashi was squatting and watching with them too. The current challenger offered quite a sight to see; one hand gripping the plastic frame of his poi with pressure just enough not to let the paper sieve break in the water, while the other held the bowl that contained the five fish he had already caught. The elementary schoolboy's remarkable skill drew more spectators with each passing minute that soon the place became too uncomfortable: the air was stifling and there was barely any room to move. Mihashi got up to his feet and left the stall.
Looking at his surroundings, Mihashi was unable to find Abe or Tajima. Several minutes passed by; still, there was no sign of his teammates. If only he had not lost the balloon! How was Abe supposed to spot him among the hundreds of people without the balloon now?
"We wasted our time visiting that temple; its shop wasn't even open and I wanted to buy a charm so bad," complained a passing teenage girl, two or three years below Mihashi.
Her companion replied, "Yeah, I thought it would've opened for sure since tonight's festival time and all…"
The third girl pointed at the far left. "Hey, look! That stall over there sells charms. Let's check it out."
The other two girls were quick to agree, and the three of them left the scene. As soon as the last girl moved away, the empty space revealed Abe's head, turning to the left and right, trying to find him.
Mihashi called, "Abe-kun."
However the chattering crowd drowned his little voice. So, he yelled louder, "Abe-kun!"
Abe noticed him at last, and the anxious look on his face melded into a relief. He cut through the crowd with difficulty, but managed to approach Mihashi the following minute. Then, taking a hold of Mihashi's hand, Abe led his teammate to the sparser part of the park.
Mihashi's face reddened as he looked at their interlacing fingers. He realized that Abe only did so in order to prevent them from being separated again, but that did not change the fact that he was happy about the goalie's concern. 'Abe-kun, how many times do you plan to make my heart stop beating? What should I do? It's so frighteningly happy I could die.'
"Ah, Abe-kun, Mihashi-kun!" the soccer club manager, who was walking from the opposite direction, greeted them with a cursory bow. Shinooka looked pretty in her vermillion yukata. Her two friends, the girls from the dancing club, too, looked great in their lime green and lilac yukata.
As Abe hastily let go of his hand, an unpleasant feeling seized Mihashi. He did not know why, but there was a sudden urge inside him to shoo those girls away so that he alone could be together with Abe—a strange notion, considering he was usually on a friendly term with their manager. Plus, during festivals, shouldn't the more mean the merrier?
He heard Shinooka mention something about watching the fireworks together from the Shinto shrine opposite the park and Abe accepted her offer. Their conversation sounded distant, as though they had come from a different world—a world of bliss that he could not enter. Again, Mihashi became puzzled by this sudden melancholic mood, and again, he found no answer.
Without impulses, other than that of a strange yearning for solitude, he walked behind the two cheerleaders while Abe and Shinooka were walking abreast at the fore. He saw Tomoi nudging Ogawa, and the two girls giggled, clearly encouraging Shinooka to make a move on Abe. A sudden thought jabbed Mihashi's mind: his presence was unwanted.
Slowly, silently, Mihashi dragged his feet, trying to stay as far as possible from the newly-formed group. Laughter and music followed him from crowded park where the summer festival was held. There weren't too many passers-by on the street; it was too late for the gathering, but too early for the dispersal from the merrymaking.
"Mihashi, what are you doing?! You'll be left behind if you walk that slowly." As Abe spoke, he actually left the manager's side and came to his teammate.
While Mihashi started to think that perhaps being part of that group wasn't so bad after all, a sense of guilt washed away the hopping tingle of joy inside him. The two cheerleaders threw him a sour look, even though Shinooka, who was accustomed to see Abe directing his attention to Mihashi during their daily soccer practices, merely smiled.
They arrived at the bottom of the stairs of the shrine five minutes later. Shinooka said that the shrine's height was an ideal place for fireworks viewing and that she had watched the pyrotechnic display there on the summer festivals for three years in a row.
"Really, Abe-kun, they were spectacular, especially the Horsetails and Crossettes."
Although Abe did not seem to develop any interest in anything more than the fireworks when he asked, "Were there any Palm-Shell ones?," Mihashi noticed how brightly Shinooka's eyes shone while she described the firework shapes one by one.
'She's so beautiful,' he thought. 'She looks good together with Abe-kun.'
Inside, an odd discomfort weighed Mihashi down; it was as if someone dropped a barbell down his esophagus. 'What's this weird stomachache?' he wondered, 'Did I eat any expired food earlier?'
"Ah, I'm thirsty," said Ogawa with a meaningful wink to Tomoi.
Tomoi replied, "Me too, actually. Let's buy some shaved ice!"
"Mihashi-kun, mind accompanying us?"
Mihashi was slightly taken aback; why would these two girls want to take him along, considering they had glared at him earlier? "No, but maybe it's better if I buy the kakiguri for you. It must be tough to walk up and down the stairs wearing yukata and geta. What flavors of syrup would you like?"
Ogawa and Tomoi glanced at each other, and then answered with a rather forced smile, "It's OK, Mihashi-kun. We're quite picky with the syrup, so it'd be best if we go."
"What, you're going? But the fireworks will start in six minutes," said Shinooka.
"We'll be back as soon as we can."
"Shall I join you?" Shinooka asked, though not without uncertainty in her tone.
"Nah, you just stay there," replied Tomoi, "Come on, Mihashi-kun!"
As much as Mihashi suspected that these two girls were up to something, he went with them. Abe almost stopped them, but changed his mind and instead told the two girls, "Watch over Mihashi; don't let him get lost!"
Of course, normal high school students wouldn't like this sort of treatment, but when Abe did it to him, Mihashi felt like it was the most natural thing on earth.
Fortunately, the kakiguri stall wasn't too crowded. Right after the seller poured the selected syrup onto their shaved ices, they saw a sliver of light in the sky, followed by a loud hiss—the first firework went off.
Following plenty of crowd pushing and stairs climbing later, the three of them had managed to get back at the torii gateway of the shrine just a few minutes before the fireworks ended. A wind wheezed past, and the zigzag gohei paper streamers dangling from the shimenawa sacred straw rope tied on the horizontal beam of the tori rattled.
"Ah, this wind feels so nice," Ogawa noted, "It cools down our sweat."
"Yay, lucky!" remarked Tomoi, "It seems they've saved the best fireworks for last."
But Mihashi, who walked at the front, froze on the top step of the stone stairs as soon as he saw the open-air hall of worship. There, on the haiden, the same wind that had just blown past them was caressing Shinooka's hair, the fluttering dance of her brown tresses bringing out her beauty even more. Mihashi was faced with Abe's silent backside, and, over the goalkeeper's stiffening shoulder, he saw Shinooka's head haloed by the backdrop of a golden corona that soon would disperse into a shower of pyrotechnic flames. Although the booming fireworks drowned Shinooka's whispery voice, the movement of her lips looked very much like the pronunciation of the syllables he dreaded most: su-ki-na-no.
Only then did Mihashi realize that the bitterness inside him had been this all along. He loved Abe, he really did, more than anyone else in the whole world. But she … she was a female. She could hold Abe's hand without getting weird looks from others; he couldn't—gay couples openly clingy to each other in public weren't well-accepted. She was far more accomplished than he was in a lot of subjects—cooking, cleaning, even academic studies. Between Shinooka and himself, it was clear who would suit Abe better. Now that she had declared her love confession, wouldn't this make the high time to relieved Abe of his babysitting duty so that he wouldn't stand on his best friend's way in enjoying the world-famous high school romance?
'Abe-kun, I love you so much that my chest hurts. But soon, you won't go home with me anymore. It's her who'll be by your side.'
That instant, Mihashi turned around and bolted down the stairs, ignoring the two girls' questions of "What's the matter?" and "Are you all right, Mihashi-kun?"
The mention of Mihashi's name announced his presence and caused Abe to turn around. He dashed to go after his teammate within seconds. Upon reaching the top, Ogawa and Tomoi found Shinooka alone, gazing at the night sky, even though it had been cleared of all the colorful fireworks.
"Aw, you've gone ahead of us and found yourself a boyfriend. We're totally envious!" greeted Tomoi jokingly. "You have to treat us a lot of—"
Before she finished, Tomoi felt Ogawa's elbow nudging her arm and it was only then did she realize that two streaks of tears were flowing down Shinooka's cheeks.
Without taking her gaze off the empty sky, she told her friends, "You even created an opportunity for me to be alone with him, but he … he said, 'Sorry, Shinooka, if I had a sister, I want her to be just like you' before he left."
The other two girls put their arms around Shinooka to comfort their broken-hearted friend.
Meanwhile, Abe kept chasing Mihashi past several food and toy stalls, following the narrow road that branched off towards the train station, until they arrived at a nearby overpass. Panting as he climbed the staircase, he asked, "Mihashi, wait up, why did you run away?"
The striker did not slow down, but he did turn his head once, and Abe didn't fail to notice the tears welling up at the corners of Mihashi's eyes.
"Why are you so upset?" Abe asked again.
"It's because—"
The wimpy boy bit his lip. At the last second, the Nishiura striker managed to refrain the words he was about to say. Even so, he could do nothing to retract the rush of heat that had infiltrated his cheeks. The crimson shade glowed so prominently all over his face down to the tip of his ears.
"It's nothing!" In his panic-driven haste, Mihashi turned on his heels in attempt to hide the more embarrassing side of him from his adversary. He broke into a run once more, willing himself to disappear in the darkness.
As he kept on running over the bridge, Mihashi could hear Abe calling out his name. Also, Abe's hasty footsteps were right behind him. There was no doubt that the slightly taller boy was hot on pursuit.
"Don't come after me!" yelled Mihashi, his squeak-like voice gave away his franticness.
However, Abe would not take an order easily, especially when the order did not come from the coach or the team's captain. Instead, he outran the striker and held Mihashi with a grip of iron.
"What are you doing, Abe-kun? Let go of me!"
"No," Abe firmly stated. Then, realizing several eyes of the passers-by on the street below were upon them, he added, "Not before you explain what's going on."
"Nothing," the pitcher stubbornly clung to his previous statement. "Let go!"
"Don't lie to me."
"Nothing happened!"
But Abe's grip showed no sign of ever relenting.
"B-besides, if anything happens to me, it's none of your concern anyway."
"None of my concern?" Somehow, Abe's tone was not as calm as before. His eyebrows were even furrowed when he delivered the next words. "What do you mean by what happens to you is none of my concern? You are Nishiura's ace striker."
Mihashi's fists clenched. Of course, there was that. There had always been that thing in their relationship. All in all, why would Abe associate himself with such a miserable excuse of the human race other than for soccer's sake?
Mihashi took a sharp breath. He knew, but it still hurt each time he reminded himself about how Abe considered it to be part of his duties to take care of a teammate. And now it hurt even more to restrain his tears from falling. Nevertheless, he forced himself to smile and said, "I'm fine, Abe-kun. I'm going home soon. Why don't you accompany Shinooka? This will be the first date between the two of you as a happy couple."
Abe analyzed the situation coolheadedly. There was something unusual about Mihashi's tone; it was accusing—something he had never heard before. Not from a striker who had believed him unconditionally. But today, Mihashi was different, with such a gripping possessiveness that sounded almost like … jealousy.
Maintaining the flatness of his tone, Abe declared, "I'm not her boyfriend. I never was and never will be."
Again, Mihashi insisted, "Y-you're lying!"
"I'm not! I turned Shinooka down." This time, Abe's tone was rising, and he immediately regretted it.
Too late; the Nishiura ace striker shook his head stubbornly.
"You don't … need to comfort me just b-because we're teammates. I understand that you will have to spare some practice time for being together with your girlfriend. This will change nothing. I will still score the goals."
Abe gazed at his friend. Mihashi made it sound easy—or, at least, his voice confirmed that much—but his glassy eyes couldn't lie. Gathering all the patience he could muster, Abe replied, "Look, I don't say yes to any girl who asks me out."
"She's not just any girl. She's the team manager. She loves soccer. And…" Mihashi dropped his volume, "She's a cute one at that."
Abe repressed a sigh, taking a deeper breath than he needed to. "Dammit Mihashi, you've made me say it. I wanted to keep it secret and be your friend for as long as possible but you leave me no other choice now."
'Say … what?' The brown-haired boy stared in confusion.
Instead of replying with words, Abe pulled Mihashi's head onto his chest. For a moment, they let silence wrap them both in its serenity.
Only after Mihashi had calmed down a bit did Abe speak, "I don't feel excessive happiness when I'm by Shinooka or any other girl's side." As an afterthought, he added, "Or any boy for that matter."
Again he paused, this time for swallowing. "Except for one."
Mihashi froze; Abe heard an unmistakably hitch on his teammate's breathing. He carried on, "He often cries for trivial reasons, clumsy at anything outside soccer, and seriously lacks self-confidence."
'Did I hear it right?'
Mihashi looked up. Abe's face was as flushed as his own. Gone was the patronizing figure who had been his hero; what remained was an ordinary boy, no less anxious than he was.
Abe continued, "But still my heart beats like crazy whenever I touch you. Even when I'm alone—trying to devise a game strategy, doing homework, in the bath, or going to bed—the thoughts of you invade my brain. I even get jealous when you're around other people because I want you to be with me."
Mihashi opened his mouth, intending to respond to Abe's words, but he didn't trust himself to speak. He forgot to breathe. If this were a dream, he wouldn't want to wake up.
"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" Abe said again.
The Nishiura striker shook his head, his golden-brown hair tussled from all the running. "M-me too!" With a clutch that was too forceful for his usual standard, Mihashi fisted a portion of Abe's shirt. "I … I feel the same."
Then, he sunk his head, fixing his stare at the ground; there was no way he could face Abe after making such a confession. Nonetheless, Abe had his way to make Mihashi face him. The goalkeeper bent and pecked his teammate on the nape.
Goose bumps prickled all over Mihashi and, of course, he lifted his head. Abe's face was only a few inches away from his own. The warmth of their breath caressed each other. The moment Abe inclined his head, Mihashi closed his eyes, offering himself willingly. Their minor height difference did not require him to stand on his toes.
The fireworks of the festival had long ended, but the fireworks inside his stomach sparked still and would persist as long as Abe held his hands and claimed his lips in a kiss like this. Exactly like this.
OWARI
OMAKE
Looking at one particular picture in his cellphone for the third time after he had taken it an hour prior, Tajima grinned triumphantly. "Oh yes, there'll be a surprise of an enlarged printout for the clueless couple waiting in the soccer club locker room tomorrow," he promised himself as he pocketed the cellphone, its screen displaying Abe and Mihashi's passionate lip-locking activity.
THE END