Formerly titled "Rhythm, Just Communication"... revised it for some precious reasons. I haven't been writing fanfics for so long, I know it's hackneyed so you're free to flame, but reviews are always welcome. Borrowed a line from HBO's "Normal" (2nd chapter) and some themes of Jamie O'Neill's "At Swim Two Boys" (1st chapter). Standard disclaimers apply.

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Sighing Familiarities

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It seems to him that such ways where leaves fall on the trees swaying zenith in its rush makes the pang of guilt breed itself enormously. The way the moon ached in the distance, in its platinum color, the way the stars moaned of perfection – glittering and shimmering, the way the snows breeze themselves down the pavements. Truthfully, amidst the starkness of the world begging for embellishment, the Kanagawa train station buzzed as trains string firmly on the rails, metal against metal, snow melting as faint orange hues spark at the verge of friction.

With a very deep sigh, Kogure closed the book. Two long hours on the seat and his body felt numb, especially somewhere in the bottom. His thighs shifted every moment or so, in ways an impatient man does. Two long hours on the threshold of the Kanagawa train. Placing the book on his bag, he then rested his eyes on the unchanging window beside him. The window is snowing.

No, the window itself is not the snow. He smiled at the sudden thoughtless brain wave. A day now before Christmas, going home by the bays of the endless chains of houses on the sides of the pavements. Surely, yet surely...

The train stopped, much to Kogure Kiminobu's growing impatience. Three sets of automatic doors opened, revealing people in their furry and leathery coats, some in their usual garments of shirt and jeans. Leaving. Some were leaving the bus, some were setting foot. The way the people disappear and the way the bus refreshes itself with others coming in made the chocolate-eyed boy to stare at them in amusement, almost like a passing moment to sharpen his boredom. Another moment of the moments, the dull moments that seemed to everyone are all and petty. The sun shines at night, too.

Shifting uncomfortably, Kogure sighed as he looked again on the window. High above the outskirts of Kanagawa, buildings stood almost boisterously with neon lights – shrill red, green and blue lights that embroidered each of the passing buildings, the sky so gray yet unflustered, the snow falling almost abruptly, yet leisurely on the russet-eyed lad's sight. With another wince, he looked at his left, only to be surprised as another man, in his boyish look, sat.

Boyish trim, the way it was cut. It almost reminded him of his friend of the heart, a friend of the heart by the name of Hisashi Mitsui. Pale skin glowed against the fluorescent lights, squinting eyes that felt prying, almost undoubtedly indeed. Kogure just smiled then.

"Going home I see," the man whispered loudly.

"Yes..."

The man gave an impression of familiarity. Familiar yet distant on the confines, purely proverbial in its sense. With another look on the man, Kogure smiled. "Soichiro Jin."

"Yes, I am indeed."

"You-you're..." the man sighed. "Shohoku is it?"

"Yes..."

"You must be the vice captain back then. Ko-Kog..."

"Kiminobu Kogure."

He smiled. "I think I'm ashamed of myself."

Kogure sneered lightly. "Don't be. It's normal to forget people's names, especially when you really don't know them." Now the syntax he used only furthered his confusion. With a long groan from the man behind them, both, in speculating stares, laughed heartily. That ought to break the ice.

"Where do you study?" Jin asked.

"Oh? Me?"

"I bet Tokyo University," Jin scratched his head from unknown reason.

Was Kogure making him uneasy? Kogure put his bag on his lap and stared at it for a second or so. Another second on the corners of the snowed window, the air now turning warm, body inexplicably agitated. For a while he thought he was blushing, and at its sudden realization he started shrugging it off with a shudder on his back, muscles flexing at the screeching sounds of his shoes. With a nonchalant moment, he stared again at the boy.

"Yes, I am actually. Going home for the vacation."

"I see..."

"You?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you... Where do you study?"

Jin hesitated a bit, and started fumbling his coat and unfastened the two buttons, revealing more pale skin, the shirt almost bluish in its hue, and the collar and cloth that fixed firmly opened a bit. Kogure recoiled unnoticed. It again reminded him of his friend of the heart, friend of the heart Hisashi Mitsui.

"Hakone Academy, down by the bays."

"Oh,"

Now why would he say oh?

"I see..."

Another pang of silence swathed them, and for a moment, Jin switched the focus of his eyes on anything but Kogure's. This made the chocolate-eyed boy slightly insecure. With a sprawl of Jin's palms, another closed fist, then sprawling again... He looked straight at Kogure and smiled. What an unruffled exploit it made impact on Kogure's mind, and at the back of his psyche, the touch of the other boy's hand on him made his spine tingle, for no reason at all that is. Soft but callused skin he felt, almost perspiring, and the chocolate eyed boy, in his uttermost smile, longed for the touch again as Jin's hands departed from his hold. We haven't got any formal introductions. I'm Soichiro Jin. I'm Kogure Kiminobu. Nice meeting you. Me too.

With a soft sigh, Jin smiled as he looked at his own hand that just held Kogure's seconds ago. Returning his gaze at the brown-eyed boy, he felt another tingle from his spine, remembering those days where basketballs seemed electric at the rings, shooting five hundreds, remembering, and the sting made the boyish creature blush slightly.

"How are the others?"

"Others? Maki you mean. Kiyota and the whole team?"

"Yes."

Why are you asking them to me? I don't have the slightest idea. Can't we talk something else?

"I don't know about them... the last time I heard Maki went abroad."

"I see."

"How are you then?" he smiled.

"Oh, you know..." Kogure smiled, "...same old college things..."

"That I can relate with."

Kogure chuckled. "Yeah, I never thought it could all go clichéd. It is."

"I couldn't agree more."

The train stopped. How long was it since then? Thirty minutes... wait, forty-five minutes to be exact. That long? Kogure then stopped himself and gathered his two other bags at his feet, clutching almost hesitatingly and with a deep moan of disappointment. The snows have stopped snowing and the buzzing noises started to roam about his ears, the sight of the houses as small as his thumb looking bigger and bigger in his eyes, the station humming and bustling of departing. The sun shines at night, too, but the night polishes at daylight even. Snows on the Kanagawa, Christmas overloads, memory in its foundation, almost like starting all over again. Tell me what the snows know, he thought. Rhythmic... justly forthcoming. With a sigh, Kogure stood up.

"Nice meeting you, Jin-san."

"Yes, me too... Hey,"

Kogure blinked as he swiveled his head.

"Can I see you again some time?" Jin asked.

And where did those words come? Familiarity? On the domains of the lonely seekers?

"On this station then? Tomorrow, same time," he continued.

"This very time?"

"Yes," What a smile, eh?

Wait... wait! The train engines started running again, and the chocolate-eyed boy almost fell from where he stood, only to be held by strong arms that sure weren't his. A bag slipped from his hold, and a grip tightened from the other, not because to secure his clutch and because the other one already fell, but truly because of the moving things Kogure felt that in reality were all and static from where they stood. No one cares anyway, except them both. Inches away, their faces looked towards each other, and with a skip of a heart, two smiles roughly met and joined, nearly speaking of meaningful recollection. Speaking in the most silenced words.

"You missed the stop... over," the boyish lad has said almost humorously. Kogure mustered his most authentic smile.

"It's okay. I'll take a cab at the next stopover."

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Just want to clarify that designation of time here is phenomenological, hence no constraints from standard chronometers.