CHAPTER TEN

Camaraderie

"It's too early to look at your ugly mug. Go away."

Despite receiving his most evil glare, Kazama continues flashing a mischievous grin, completely unperturbed. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

"What the hell are you doing here anyway?" Kimishita mutters, finally giving in and letting Kazama slip inside the house. "It's dawn and I absolutely have no plans on entertaining your shenanigans."

"Oh, how hurtful, senpai~" The younger man motions to the boxes piled up in the middle of the living room. "And here I am, letting you use my humble self as a manservant for the entirety of this day~!"

"Day, my ass. The sun isn't even up yet." Kimishita slaps the back of the younger man's head soundly, earning him a playful giggle hidden behind a coquettish hand. He rolls his eyes, and stomps toward his bedroom to change out of his pyjamas.

There is a flurry of sounds in the living room as Kazama starts hauling boxes closer to the front door, something Kimishita frowns upon, knowing that 'hauling' in Kazama Terms means dragging unceremoniously. The kid has always been partial to shortcuts when it comes to practical work after all, he muses wryly. He lifts the hem of his pyjama top and tugs it off, shivering slightly as the dawn breeze wafting from his open window kisses the skin of his torso. He lets out a shuddering breath and scrambles to find a decent shirt, only to realize he packed all of his straggling things last night. Groaning inwardly, he shakes his head and walks out of his room, finding Kazama building a makeshift fort around himself with the boxes.

What the – Kimishita is taken aback, and he is left standing in the middle of the living room, previously intent on opening the last box he remembers packing for a decent shirt but now stuck wondering if he should laugh or get angry over this new development.

Kazama flashes him a victory sign and then poses like some sort of finicky holier-than-thou monarch. "This is my kingdom, peasant!" He gestures toward the rest of the living room with a flourish, nose upturned condescendingly. "How dare ye set foot upon my land!"

Kimishita notes how much he mirrors a certain someone's snooty disposition. He knows he should be annoyed but he couldn't. Instead, he purses his lips in distaste. "Stop imitating Kiichi." He snorts, motioning for him to open the purple box to his left. "It doesn't suit you." Kazama laughs good-naturedly, deciding in favour of pushing the box toward Kimishita versus opening it himself, making his vice-captain sigh resignedly.

"What made you agree, senpai?" Kazama is curious. He can feel his gaze on him, intense and filled with so many questions it weighs so heavily on his shoulders. He bites his lip as he struggles to maintain his composure. Last night's events were bizarre, and even he was not immune to whatever it was plaguing the air with supercharged emotions.

"How did you know?"

"Tsukushi told me."

Dammit, Tsukamoto. He groans inwardly. It's completely his fault, he recognizes it. He shouldn't have opened his big mouth late last night when his underclassman called to inform him (quite nervously too) that his mother agreed to let him stay if he wants to do so. He remembered Ooshiba's words then and did his best to let Tsukamoto down as gently as possible. 'Tried' is more like it. The kid gets really bothersome when he starts apologizing for every little thing. Of course he had to tell Tsukamoto that he now has a place to stay. It was the only thing that would stop him from being so annoyingly considerate.

It's not as if he's ungrateful. He is grateful. Immensely. However, it's one thing to offer, and one thing to be insistent, and yet another thing to be doing both out of pity. He doesn't know whether or not it's really sympathy that drives his teammates to help him, or some other emotion related to a misplaced sense of duty. Like right now, Kazama is here staring at him questioningly in the middle of a box fortress he must have built out of boredom. Why is he even here after just one word from Tsukamoto? Is it because of Kimishita or because of his friend?

If that's the case, what's different between them and Kiichi? Kimishita sighs tiredly. He gathers, it must be their shared history – half of which his counterpart has completely forgotten along with the previously shy attitude both adorable and painful. Huh. Adorable. He muses darkly. He should have just remained the same as when we first met.

"Kimishita-senpai?"

He snaps to attention and his eyes stare blankly at Kazama before focusing enough to see that the previous questioning gaze is now brimming with worry. He's really worried about me, isn't he? It's the perfect moment to understand (grudgingly if he may add) that perhaps, Ooshiba was telling the truth last night. Maybe he should stop looking at things so negatively and so utterly realistically that it paralyzes his sense of camaraderie. The corner of his lip turns up involuntarily. "Because for the first time in his entire existence, Kiichi is right." He huffs in amusement, shaking his head in slight disbelief at what he's divulging.

Kazama's eyes bulges in surprise before the foxy glint in them returns tenfold. "O-ho-ho~, senpai, you just said Ooshiba-san is right about something I don't really get. Hmm. Does this mean you are getting along better now~?" He leans forward and balances himself on one of the heavy boxes in front of him with a teasing grin. "Are you going to be all lovey-dovey now that you're frie~nds?"

This brat. Kimishita can hear a vein popping in his temple from annoyance. "Shut up and do whatever you came here for, Kazama. It's too early for your twenty million questions!" He barks, reaching for the box the other pushed toward him earlier, intent on finding a damn shirt.

"But this is exactly what I came here for, senpai~!" The younger man sing-songs mischievously. "I came to help you out with whatever you need~!"

"Because Tsukamoto begged you to." He snorts, finally grabbing hold of a thick long-sleeved sweater. "Completely whipped."

"Partly, but mostly because I've always wanted to see you with your shirt off, senpai~!" Kazama's tinkling laugh is infectious, and Kimishita finds his lips curving up in answer.

"Perv." He shoots back, starting a verbal exchange that would shame any eight-year-old. There is a sudden knock on the door, and he moves to open it while struggling to find which way is front and which is back of his sweater. He hasn't used it for quite a while and the neckline is the same on both sides after all. Finally deciding on a side (regardless of whether it's the right one or not – damn nonexistent tags), he slips it over his head and pulls the door open.

"I never knew you had such smooth skin, senpai~!"

"Shut up or I swear I'll ruin you – Kiichi." Kimishita falters, seeing Ooshiba standing on his doorstep, wearing warm-looking designer clothes and a dark unreadable look in his eyes. They stare at each other awkwardly; Kazama's gleeful teasing hovering in the background. He can't move, feeling as if he is pinned to the spot by Ooshiba's gaze.

"The brat is here?" His captain finally asks in curious monotone.

"Y-yeah."

"You're naked." Ooshiba observes, prompting him to pull the sweater on the rest of the way hurriedly. He shouldn't be this flustered, Kimishita knows, but something that resembles judgment in the other's eyes seems to pierce into him.

It's enough to make him scramble to defend himself. "Changing out of sleepwear." He reasons awkwardly, gesturing to his pyjama pants.

"In the middle of the living room." Ooshiba presses dully. "In front of the brat."

"This was in the box already packed –" He starts, before realizing what he's doing, his brows settling on their familiar scowl. "Why am I even trying to explain myself? Just get in." He tears his gaze away and grabs Ooshiba's wrist, pulling him bodily inside. He slams the door close, wincing at the protesting squeak from the sliders, and proceeds to shove Ooshiba into the living room when the other finished removing his shoes.

"Who's at the door, Kimishita-senpai? Is it – AH! Ooshiba-san!" Kazama perks up, eyes shining as he sees the hulking figure of Seiseki's captain. "Why are you here so early? Unannounced too!"

"Like you're not the same, brat." Kimishita retorts with an incredulous snort, watching Ooshiba turn an appraising stare at Kazama, looking at him up and down before cocking his head sideways with a glare. He knows that look, and for once, he's anxious to know why. It's suspicion, plain and simple, something he doesn't understand because it's not as if they're doing something wrong. They're not drinking, nor are they gambling. He frowns, perplexed. "Get out of there and stack the boxes properly."

"Eh~, I don't wanna. It's too early to work my muscles to death, Kimishita-senpai~…" Kazama intones, crossing his arms in defiance.

He's about to retort when Ooshiba cuts him off with a curt tone. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?" Kimishita and Kazama turns to him in surprise. "If you're not here to move boxes, get outta my way." There is something brewing in their captain's expression that bothers the hell out of them, and it has never been more apparent to Kimishita who has never seen him quite the same way.

Ever.

Thankfully, Kazama decides to lighten the mood. "But that won't do, Ooshiba-san. This is my castle. How dare ye step into my kingdom and demand things from me?" He pouts as cutely as possible, eyes widening in an effort to look guileless. In Kimishita's eyes he looks even more of a bratty kid than usual. Stifling a huff of laughter, he sneaks a peek at the other and finds the previous hard countenance morph into its usual childish lines.

"The hell it is! It's my kingdom! You've stolen it from me!" Ooshiba counters noisily, stalking forward and grabbing boxes off the manmade fortress and stealing them to form his own. He effectively engages their underclassman in a battle of speed and agility as they both try to pilfer and prevent the other from pilfering packages whose insides rattle dangerously.

Kimishita is about to put a stop (or at least, protest) their manhandling of his things when he's interrupted by a vigorous knock on the door from countless knuckles, signaling the arrival of newcomers who were just as boisterously expressing their need to aid their vice-captain's move.

Silently, he wonders what he had done in the past to deserve this entire, unwarranted ruckus at this ungodly hour. And just as silently, he thanks the Powers-That-Be for planting this dysfunctional group of idiots in his life. Shaking his head, he glances at Ooshiba's direction and finds him looking back while struggling in a storage tug-of-war with Kazama.

With a small smile mirroring the warmth suffusing his heart, Kimishita turns back to the door, muttering halfheartedly about annoying teammates and equally annoying morning habits.

"Each and every one of you…"

TBC