Imayoshi was on his way out of his Abnormal Psychology class when his phone buzzed. He didn't believe in using ringtones; in fact, he found their very existence infuriating. If he wanted to listen to a song three seconds at a time, he was sure there were better ways to accomplish it. But the quiet vibration in his pocket, made him smile. He only gave his number out to people he wanted to speak with and he blocked anyone who had it without permission.
He waited until his papers were turned in, and he was outside, before he flipped open his phone and checked the messages.
[Why are you dragging me to Osaka again?] The caller ID read Pacifist.
[Don't come then. Bat bowed out, I won't be offended if you don't want a free vacation from Tokyo and The Professor.]
[Oh, yeah, that's why. Never mind. What time are we meeting again?]
[6pm at Serin's gymnasium. We'll pick up Chatterbox, and be at the station for the 6:30 train.]
[Ok.]
"Rin, don't worry about it," Koganei said, patting his friend on the back. Mitobe gave him an awkward smile and tried to express the sentiment again, more clearly this time.
"Kagami passed his test. That's all we can really hope for!" Koganei continued, obliviously.
"Is that what you got out of Chatterbox's expression?" Kasamatsu asked Imayoshi, as they watched the two friends from a distance.
"Hell no, not at all, but Koganei's known him a lot longer than us. Maybe our translation is a bit off," Imayoshi shrugged.
"Or maybe Koganei's distracted, stuff happens," Kasamatsu said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking embarrassed. Serin girls kept walking by the two of them, whispering and giggling. He would die, literally fall down on the sidewalk and expire, if they didn't get going soon.
"Oh my, did ya see that eye roll Chatterbox just gave him?" Imayoshi asked, noticing the gesture Mitobe gave to Koganei.
"That was epic, I have to admit."
Finally, Mitobe saw the two men waiting for him just outside the school gate. He smiled and waved to them.
"Hurry up Chatterbox, if another girl talks ta Kasamatsu, we may have ta hold a funeral!" Imayoshi shouted across pavement.
Imayoshi paid for the taxi as Kasamatsu retrieved their luggage from the trunk, and Mitobe hemmed and hawed, trying to think of a way to back out of this meeting/vacation/interview that he'd somehow been talked into by his crazy friends.
The two-story house was in an older residential neighborhood. The narrow building was so close to its neighbors that anyone on the second floor could reach out and touch the window of the house across the alley. Laundry hung from the upper floor balcony. Imayoshi didn't seem to notice the shabby conditions; to Mitobe the surroundings seemed like a luxury; to Kasamatsu it harkened back to memories of his grandparent's home, to their love and warmth.
Imayoshi swung the black iron gate inward and opened the unlocked front door. Mitobe and Kasamatsu followed close behind.
"I'm back and I've brought friends," Imayoshi called into the cramped space of the front hallway.
"You have friends? How much did ya pay them ta pretend, Shoichi?" asked a voice that came from the spiral staircase just inside the door.
"That's my rotten little brother, Kosuke. He lives at school, most of the time, but he still leeches off my parents on weekends and holidays," Imayoshi narrated as they continued into the house. "My other brother, Hiroya, is the middle child. He's a NEET, or maybe a Hikikomori, I'm never quite sure which he is, I guess whichever sounds more pathetic and needy. He hasn't come out of his room in a decade. You won't have ta worry about him either, just don't get too close ta his room, as it smells rank."
"Charming," Kasamatsu said. "Is there any reason why Mitobe might want to live here?"
Seven less siblings –
"Besides the fact that he'll have his own room for the first time in his life?" Imayoshi snarked. "And anyway, Pacifist, just shut ya mouth, this is my home."
Anger descended to the pit of Imayoshi's belly as he walked into his bedroom and saw the blatant disregard with which Kosuke treated his things. Besides the fact that an unmade futon was left in the middle of the floor, there were half-empty soda bottles, food wrappers, and dirty dishes littering his desk, his bureau, even the floor. The very last straw was the open pornography magazine, the bottle of lotion, and the box of tissues.
"I apologize, Chatterbox, Pacifist," he said, as the smile slipped from his face. He gathered up the trash and left the room.
The two men rushed to the hallway as they heard the sharp report of a foot kicking in a door. Imayoshi stood before the busted door, his chest heaving, but his smile returned.
"What the hell, Shouichi?"
Imayoshi threw the open trash bag into the room, magazines and the arc of brown liquid raced to see which would be the first to hit the ground.
"I'm not an unreasonable man, far from it, I'd say. I let ya use my room, I let ya use my PS3, I don't even mind a little dust - who does really? - but I warned ya that the next time I found such filth in my room that I'd break your fingers, little brother, so which hand do ya want to start with? The one ya wank with or the one ya write with?"
Kasamatsu looked sideways at Mitobe.
"He's just kidding, right?"
He wouldn't, Mitobe thought. He just...
Imayoshi, done waiting for an answer, rushed into the room so fast that he seemed to disappear. Kosuke's shrill screams filled the upstairs. Kasamatsu held his hand tight over his ears as the reverberation ran down the hall.
...or maybe he would.
Imayoshi's mother appeared behind them with a tray of snacks and drinks.
"Don'tcha worry, Shou won't do any lastin' damage. Kosuke misses his brother and refuses ta admit it, so he likes ta provoke Shou whenever he comes home. If Kosuke could just learn ta express his emotions in a healthy way... Its like this every time."
They followed her back into the bedroom.
"Shou is an excellent big brother. He bought a second and third video game system just so he could play with his brothers. They have tournaments every weekend. Kosuke is just afraid that if Mitobe-kun moves in that he won't be able ta spend time with his brothers anymore."
Mitobe raised his hands, chest high, and waved them back and forth.
"I know, Shou already told me he'd buy another system for Kosuke. Don'tcha worry about it, they'll figure themselves out right quick."
"I'm tired, I'm just gonna listen and watch," Kasamatsu said as he sprawled on the futon.
"Pacifist!" Takao whined through the speakers. "No fair! I finally get this thing set up on my side and now you're-"
"There are only two controllers, Bat. We can all still talk, so quit your bitching," Kasamatsu said while yawning into the back of his hand.
"Alright, alright,"Takao sighed.
"Where's Socialite tonight?" Imayoshi asked.
"He's distracting his mom so I can play. She hates electronics in the house, its bad Feng Shui. By the way, thanks for lending me you system, Saint."
"No worries, it wouldn't be Point Guard Poker Players without you."
"Wait, how come you always have ammo?" Takao complained.
"'Cause I unlocked unlimited ammo. I play this game every weekend, after all."
"Oh." The pout was funnier with the mechanical modulations of the cheap speakers. "Anyway, Chatterbox, how did the interview go?
Mitobe took up his phone and typed a response while Imayoshi's on-screen avatar blew the head off the zombie that was trying to eat Takao's character.
"Thanks Saint," Takao called out. "Oh, crap where is the pause button?"
"There is none. Zombies won't wait for ya ta check your messages."
"Switch places and let Mitobe play for a while."
Mitobe gave the universal gesture for no thanks, but kept watching the game.
"He says no, 'sides I'm the only thing keepin' ya alive right now. Don't ya know how ta conserve ammo?"
"Get Pacifist to read the sent message then. He's been quiet for too long anyway."
"He's asleep, he was out the moment his head hit the pillow. and through all the noise we're makin', he hasn't stirred. Chatterbox even checked ta make sure he was still breathing a while back."
"Shin-chan? Imayoshi's being mean to me! Can you read my text to me? A zombie is trying to eat me."
"You probably deserve it." They heard Midorima's voice as he responded to Takao's whining. "It says: 'Imayoshi's dad is reading through my portfolio tonight and tomorrow we're going to 'chat' about it over breakfast.' There, can I go back to my book or do I have to make you tea as well, princess?"
"Princess?" Imayoshi and Mitobe exchanged a look.
Imayoshi kissed his mother goodbye, and hugged his father.
"Be good, brats," he yelled up at the second story windows. "If I hear that Mitobe has to clean up your porn collection when he comes back, Kosuke, I will gut you."
There was no answer, but the curtain fluttered for a moment as if someone had come to the window. Imayoshi was satisfied and got in the back seat.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Kasamatsu said as he bowed to Imayoshi's parents. He climbed into the front seat, next to the driver.
Mitobe had tendered his goodbyes earlier, and was already in the taxi, a bag of back issues of the racing forms balanced on his knees.
As the car pulled away, Mitobe looked back over his shoulder to the house that he would call home in a few more weeks and smiled.