November 22, 2000

XXX

"Global warming's true. It has to be," Kamio groaned, leaning back on two legs of the folding chair set out on Shinji's porch and fanning himself with a discarded tennis magazine. "This is un-fucking-real."

Though from a family of a similar income class as Kamio, Shinji's house was in a much nicer neighborhood, and had the convenience of a front lawn, which was currently buzzing with cicada-like creatures, giving the humid, late-autumn afternoon a tone much more reminiscent of summer. The two boys sat on Shinji's front porch, soaking in the final rays of sunlight from a long day.

"Did you think they were making it up or something?" asked Shinji, not looking up from his perusal of a tennis gear catalogue. "They said this is going to be the warmest winter on record of the last fifty years. I kind of like it though, we can play tennis outside still."

"That's not the way it's supposed to be though…" Kamio muttered, pulling the front of his damp t-shirt away from his skin and letting his head fall back in discomfort against hot plastic. "Feels like everything's unnatural this year."

"What else is unnatural?" Shinji asked, looking up and cocking one eyebrow.

"Well…" Kamio had more just been thinking aloud when he said that and now on the spot searched for a concrete example. The truth was, he only felt that this year was unnatural in regard to one specific person.

Kamio supposed he had been more or less surprised when Kirihara asked for his phone number the last time they parted, back at the lake in the woods. Kirihara had been floating on his back looking like he didn't give a damn about anything in the world when he asked, but it was not that unusual. Somehow, as Kamio was parting, he shook the water out of his hair, grabbed his bag and saw the muddy tracks that he and Kirihara had made on the bank in their sprint to the lake, and in a flash he saw that this was going to happen again. And again. It was an unsettling thought, but not an entirely unnatural one. Kamio had simply felt like he was looking in a portal into the future.

"Tennis has also been weird this year," he voiced finally, coming back to Shinji. "It feels like our natural enemies became our friends and vice versa…"

"I guess so," Shinji agreed, returning to the magazine. "I kind of like that too. Last year was pretty tense with some people and it feels like we overcame that. Anyway, it's good to have nice weather for longer. Tonight should be extra fun." He said all this in an offhand voice that did not mirror any kind of excitement, though Kamio knew better than to judge.

Kamio blinked. "What's tonight?" he asked, hoping he hadn't forgotten something important.

Shinji looked at him blankly. "Ishida's birthday, remember?"

Oh, shit. Kamio colored slightly before he could help himself. He vaguely considered lying that he had remembered, but Shinji knew him too well; would see through the ruse immediately…

"You really forgot," Shinji said tonelessly when he saw Kamio casting about for words. "Your head really isn't in anything lately. You've probably been thinking about other things too much, you have a lot of stuff going on…"

"Shinji, what am I going to do?" Kamio squawked, interjecting over his friend's mumbling. "I'm supposed—to meet Kirihara this evening…"

Somehow the admission came out more awkward that Kamio was intending and he mentally face-palmed, as he had made it sound like he was doing something wrong.

"Well," Shinji had the faintest glimmer of a smirk on his face and closed the catalogue. "Maybe you could reschedule your date in light of the fact that it's your teammate's—"

"It's not a date!" Kamio interjected crossly, a little more harshly than he had intended. "But I hate cancelling on people at the last minute. It's just a shitty thing to do."

"So why don't you just invite Kirihara to the party?" Shinji pointed out, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kamio looked sharply at his friend, but in truth he had been considering the same thing. Merely inviting Kirihara to the party would be the cleanest way to earn himself politeness points while simultaneously crushing the possibility of the two of them hanging out. Given that there was nearly no way that Kirihara would accept the invitation it was actually a win-win situation.

"…do you think any of the others will mind?" he finally asked slowly.

"I don't think it's that kind of party," Shinji said with a grin. "You've been enjoying your time with Kirihara, haven't you?" he added, looking away.

Kamio rolled his eyes. "I guess."

Kamio didn't really feel like elaborating, but those words were true further than even Shinji knew. In truth, that afternoon Kamio and Kirihara spent at the lake had been almost manic in terms of energy level. Following their stupid race thing they had both basically tripped over each other on the bank and fallen into the water, which was wonderfully refreshing after the exercise. There they had hung out for several hours just swimming around and sort of chatting and arguing about random non-tennis related things, and it hadn't occurred to Kamio to feel awkward about it until after when he was getting out and his soaked clothes sticking to his body reminded him that he was in a freaking lake, his secret spot in the woods, with fucking Kirihara of all people.

That awkwardness didn't change the fact that it had been quite…fun though, grudging as Kamio was to admit it. As they were leaving Kirihara was saying that Kamio had to check out a comic shop near his house (one of the things they had discussed), and they had made plans to visit there that evening, which clearly was not going to happen now, which relieved Kamio just a little even as he felt bad for blowing Kirihara off.

Come to think of it, Kamio wasn't completely sure why he was so wary of befriending Kirihara and so reluctant to spend time with him even when it seemed pretty evident that Kirihara was genuinely making an effort to be friends. It wasn't really Kirihara's fault, Kamio knew. It wasn't really him…so there was no reason to treat him like a criminal before he did anything wrong.

"It doesn't matter if I invite him anyway," Kamio voiced out loud, more to assure himself than anything. "He won't say yes."

XxX

Kirihara regretted his acceptance nearly the minute he hung up the phone. Sure, he had hung out with Kamio on several occasions now, and had met a few of the other team members individually while playing tennis or some other activity—but taking them all on in one shot was quite another matter altogether. He grimaced as he tied his laces. The shit he had to do to get a friend in the world. He was clearly desperate and it pissed him off to think about how ridiculous it was. On the other hand, maybe this evening could be invested in charming a few of the other Fudomine boys into his possession by the end of the night. He was collecting friends like butterflies.

Kirihara wasn't quite sure what to expect from this night, either. Kamio hadn't given any details other than that it was Ishida's birthday, probably anticipating a refusal on Kirihara's part to attend. Kirihara had accepted, partly just to spite this anticipation, and partly because he really had nothing better to do anyway. Moreover, although he hated to admit it, he had been looking forward to seeing Kamio, to working him up with snide little comments and hearing Kamio's smartass response to everything. At the very least, this way he could ruin Kamio's evening like Kamio had ruined his. It was always a good thing to him to be able to crash some party.

This invitation at least showed that Kamio was more or less comfortable with Kirihara's company, which was a good step for Kirihara. He was less sure what the rest of the team thought of him, and consequently had prepared a few snide comments to have ready at the point if any of them started to harass him about Tachibana. Dressed all in black, Kirihara sighed a little, hoping that he wouldn't seriously regret this decision later. It was just a party though. How bad could it be?

XxX

"Charmed," Kirihara held out his hand in a mock-princess gesture as he came abreast of Kamio and Shinji at the bus stop in the old part of town that they had agreed to meet at.

Kamio rolled his eyes but Shinji nodded seriously, as always oblivious to any sarcasm. "Hey, Kirihara. How's it going?"

"Decent," Kirihara replied easily, folding his hands behind his head, as was a habit of his when he was somewhat uncomfortable in a situation. "Curious to see how Fudomine kids amuse themselves in a trash-hole like this..." he commented, looking around at their relatively humble surroundings, though behind his tone there was a real curiosity.

"Well hopefully you won't be too disappointed. By our trash-hole," Kamio interjected coolly, determined not to let Kirihara get the best of him this early in the night. "Sorry I couldn't make the comics."

"Not a problem at all," were the pseudo-polite replied words, though the tone said otherwise. "Why don't we head out?"

"I was just going to say that. It's already half past nine, we need to go," said Shinji.

Kirihara allowed for one more smirk at Kamio before following the two of them down the street and away from their meeting point. Despite his earlier comment, Kirihara genuinely was interested and curious to see what they would be doing tonight. He really could not guess as it was somewhat late for any popular party destinations and moreover that there didn't look to be anything particularly fun in this area. This night better pay off in terms of badgering Kamio, he thought, for the effort he had made in coming out. Fortunately Ishida's house was not far and they only had to endure the somewhat awkward silence of travel for a few minutes before turning into a residential neighborhood and slowing their walking pace. No matter how Kirihara felt about the situation, he was surprised by the sight that met them as they approached the door that could only be to Ishida's house. Shinji greeted it like it was totally normal and Kamio, while not uncomfortable, looked a little amused.

Uchimura opened the door after Kamio knocked twice. He looked at the three of them vaguely for a few moments before wordlessly pausing, then holding up one finger, as if willing them to wait for him to say something. They waited, and after a moment, Uchimura pointed to Kamio and beckoned him forward silently. Kamio stepped forward, looking politely perplexed and once he was in range, Uchimura nodded and reached up, draping his arms over Kamio's neck, pulling the redhead closely into a lover's embrace, although the overall effect was hilarious since Uchimura was roughly a foot shorter than Kamio. Kirihara watched this in utter bemusement, but Kamio seemed amused, if a little uncomfortable in the grip. After Uchimura didn't move for about ten seconds, Kamio said, "Thanks, it's nice to see you too, Uchimura," and patted him on the back before gently peeling the other boy off him, who staggered backwards into the house. All this could almost have passed for almost normal, if a little unusual, if not for the moment later screaming coming from inside the house of, "GET IN AND CLOSE THE DOOR ALREADY!"

Not wasting a second, Kirihara felt a slight pressure on his shoulder as Shinji quickly pushed him in, causing him to bump into Kamio from behind, and quickly shut the door behind them.

They were standing in a small, dark foyer, and ahead, Kirihara could see light emitting from an open door, which Uchimura staggered through. Wrong-footed and slow as he was feeling, it began to dawn on Kirihara what was going on as he followed Shinji and a grinning Kamio opened the doors and fairly ran down the stairs. Kamio was grinning in a way Kirihara had never seen, and gestured his head before running down the stairs. "Well, come on."

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, they were now standing in semi darkness at the edge of a fairly large but mostly furniture-less room containing a ping pong table, a television, a sofa and six varying-levels-of-drunk Fudomine tennis team boys. Kirihara watched in fascination at the general motion of the room, as the boys seemed to be playing some sort of version of ping pong, except with the additional involvement of headstands, and hands-only.

Kamio looked over and short of half-shrugged at Kirihara. He raised an eyebrow. "Help yourself," he said simply, and Kirihara found himself gravitating towards the nasty-looking card table of drinks set up in the corner, feeling more nervous now than he had at any point in a tournament, even the finals against Seigaku. It wasn't that he was some innocent kitten or anything but…. as a matter of preserving his health for tennis and on Yukimura's orders, he had barely drunk at all before in his life.

Which made this terribly exciting. What the hell did he have to lose after all, and one night of drinking couldn't hurt him. After all, it looked like the Fudomine team had done this at least once before, and THEY kicked ass at tennis, so it couldn't be too bad for you.

Not wanting to come off as any less experienced, Kirihara seized the first thing that appeared sealed and full of liquid on the table, a can with a label he didn't recognize. Kamio shook his head as he made eye contact with Kirihara again.

"By the way, I know you think I'm a fucking alcoholic now…" he said. "So just to be clear…I'm not. We don't do this often. I don't usually have time anyway."

Kirihara may have been imagining it, but he felt that there was a strange darkness to the way Kamio said the last thing. Kamio however, quickly shrugged and raised the can to his lips.

"Wait wait wait wait wait...you brought Kirihara?" Any further conversation was interrupted by Ishida sauntering over to the two of them along with two people Kirihara didn't recognize, and he seemed fairly drunk himself but was gazing at Kirihara with bleary eyes, making Kirihara instinctively tense. "Seriously? Seriously? I—oh, who the fuck cares? Welcome, you bastard! Make yourself at home!"

"No invitation necessary!" Kirihara smirked, pleased that no one was trying to fight him here and feeling his shoulders relax from the momentary stress. No one here was trying to fight him. It was glorious. It was such a simple fact, but at its recognition, Kirihara could almost feel his old self, the way he had felt last year on his team reemerging in this setting, and it was glorious. That lightness, the feeling of being surrounded by friends, by people who liked you the way you were, who could coexist without trying to hurt you—it was incredible…..

Everything only seemed to get more fun from there. Although Kirihara couldn't be described as uptight by any means, he could feel the frustration at a number of events in his life slowly melting away he drank, as if a weight were being lifted from his shoulders, and he felt better as he started to get mildly lightheaded. Pretty soon everyone was shouting around him, Kamio included. Kamio now seemed to think that he had to shout for anyone to hear him, and he was grinning in a way that reminded Kirihara of how Kamio had been last year, back when things were carefree and fun, back before the shit had hit the fan. It was nice to see him like that for a change, acting rouge-ish and immature for once, running around doing stupid things.

And Kirihara was enjoying himself too. He had gotten caught up a game of racquet-less ping pong with a guy he didn't remember the name of—some dude that he half-recognized from the team but never talked to—and found himself quite absorbed in the match for a while. Each sloppy hit back with his palm or backhand sent the dirty orange ball whizzing over the table and with every whack Kirihara was reminded how out of his income class he was here, surrounded by these scrappy boys doing something he had never done before, and it was all but intoxicating as his control slipped away. Kirihara didn't remember the last time he had felt this free to do or say anything and not care about the consequences of those actions. He was here with people he was not friends with doing something he was not generally comfortable with, and yet somehow…he felt more like himself than he had in many months and felt the company of the room closing in on him, threatening to engulf him once again. It didn't make any sense, it was a paradox….

Kirihara's drunken reverie was eventually broken by Kamio calling him over from the other side of the room some time later.

"Kirihara. Kirihara. Kirihara. Kirihara."

Kamio was repeating his name until Kirihara broke from the table. "For the love of god, WHAT?"

Looking over, Kirihara saw that Kamio and several of his teammates were in the middle of what looked like a makeshift jousting match and he raised an eyebrow before lighting over to where Kamio was.

"Wass going on?" Kirihara asked, as he arrived, and felt a grab at his ankle, before tumbling to the floor. Without knowing what was happening, Kamio had dragged him behind the couch.

"You're on our team," Kamio whispered, eyes wide. They were sitting with Sakurai, and Ishida was no more than a body lying passed out a meter away.

"Team for wha—"

"Hold this!" Sakurai whispered, shoving several empty beer cans into Kirihara's hands.

"Okay, this is it," Kamio said softly, pulling out a roll of duct tape. "Now hold those steady, willya? Stack them."

Still not knowing what was going on, Kirihara obediently stacked the beer cans as best he could, two or three at a time, since his hands were shaking. Kamio ripped off a large piece of the tape and began to attach the cans that Kirihara had stacked so that they were taped into a wobbly pole-like structure. Kirihara couldn't help but giggle a little as they did so, with Kamio looking so serious, and Sakurai continually butting in with suggestions for how to improve it.

"Alright, it's almost done!" Kamio said enthusiastically. "But we need a handle now!" he added some more cans in a loop shape until they had created what appeared to be a large 'P' out of beer cans and duct tape.

"You guys ready?!" Kamio shouted around the sofa.

"When you are, you slow pokes!" Mori shouted back, and Kamio stuck out his tongue most uncharacteristically at him, before ducking his head again.

"Okay guys, this is it," Kamio said to the other two. "Now help me up…we're winning this round!"

Kamio got to his feet with the help of Kirihara and Sakurai, and they stabilized him as he stepped onto a skateboard. On the other side of the room, Mori also got onto his board, and Kamio stuck his arm through the loop of the P-shaped beer can pole.

"On ya mark….get set… GO!" Shinji shouted.

The air was instantly rent by screams as members of either team started cheering on their competitor. Kirihara watched as Kamio, with one hand on the couch for balance and the other gripping his beer-can lance, pushed forward on the skateboard and started skidding across the room, while Mori did the same from the other side. When they came abreast of each other, each made a violent stab with the beer can lances, and Kamio's hit Mori in the stomach, pushing him off the skateboard, although Kamio had flung too wildly, and consequently fell off his skateboard too, putting both the boys in a heap on the ground.

Kirihara had been laughing uncontrollably since Kamio had gotten on the board, and even through his drunkenness he could tell it was one of the stupidest things he had ever seen in his life. Which was precisely why it was perfect.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Kamio shouted from the ground, but not malevolently, upon seeing Kirihara laughing. "You're next, you bastard!"

"Bring it on," Kirihara grabbed the skateboard and moved it back to their side of the room, still laughing. "At least I'll stay on!"

"Don't count on it," Sakurai warned. "It's more tricky than it looks."

"Your mom's more tricky than she looks!" Uchimura shouted randomly from the other side of the room.

"Akira, get out of the way! I'm going to win back your goddamn pride, for God's sake," Kiriahra shouted, grinning, and stuffing his hand through the damaged, but still useable lance. "I'm going!"

Kirihara started pushing off with his foot, and Kamio frantically rolled out of the way to avoid getting run over, although it hardly mattered, since Kirihara barely made it two feet forward before he fell forward, and the skateboard shot away from under him before he even made it to Shinji, who was the opponent jouster this round.

Kirhara landed hard on his elbows, sprawled over Kamio's legs, both of them laughing so hard they couldn't get back up. "Earned back my pride, did you?" Kamio choked out through his laughs.

"That was bullshit! The skateboard is loaded!" Kirihara shouted. "I demand a rematch! A swordfight on foot!" He swung the lance around wildly and lifted it up to challenge Shinji, but the tape had weakened considerably, and half of the lance flopped over, making the weapon useless.

"What's wrong with this thing?" Kirihara said, eyeing the bent weapon petulantly.

"Well Kirihara, I guess it just doesn't think you're very attractive" Kamio managed to choke out, before collapsing in laughter again.

It took a moment for that to sink in for Kirihara, at which point he shouted, "You!" and took a swing at Kamio with the cans, who was still trapped with Kirihara on his legs.

"Gimme that!" Sakurai grabbed the lance from Kirihara. "I can't belieeeve you guys, you broke my master sword!" Sakurai whined. "Do you know how long it takes to fix these? Now we're going to have to go all the way to Hyrule, and collect shards of shadows, and fight beasts, and I just know some bitch is going to need saving…"

Kirihara couldn't even hear anymore, he was at the point where he almost felt high on laughter, even though the drunkenness was diminishing. Being here in this moment just felt so right, and so complete, it was almost frightening…

"Okay. Wow. I'm hungry." Kamio said, sitting back up. "Isn't there birthday cake or anything?" he complained loudly.

"Check the kitchen," was Shinji's response.

The speed ace appeared to take this as a personal challenge as he got unsteadily to his feet and then bolted as fast as his inebriated legs could take him back up the stairs to the kitchen.

As much fun as he was having, Kirihara found that his head was beginning to spin a little, which was not a comfortable sensation and he sensed that he ought to get some fresh air.

Opening the sliding door at the side of the basement to the backyard and stepping out into the night that had cooled off quite a bit by now, Kirihara shivered slightly, and began to pick his way across the lawn, heading for a dark shape right in the middle of the yard, which turned out to be a trampoline on further inspection. Not a perfect solution, but it would do…

Kirihara let his body drop onto the trampoline and as his head fell back it was a wonderful sensation of cool, slightly dewy plastic against his hot skin. Kirihara took a few deep breaths, taking in the sky above him, which suddenly seemed amazingly full of stars. It was as if every thought and emotion inside him were suddenly magnified one hundred times and the scene was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes away from it.

Kirihara let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and sucked another one in. That was better. That was much better. His heart rate began to return to normal and Kirihara felt himself cooling off, coming down from the buzz and just enjoying the fresh air. This was a good feeling in its own way, he decided. He gradually felt more in control of his actions like this, which was probably a good thing.

"Yo."

The voice of Kamio entered his thoughts and Kirihara looked around to see the redhead approaching the trampoline by himself, carrying what looked like half of a cake in his hands.

"That looks…amazing," Kirihara said the first thing that came into his mind as he eyed the approaching cake.

"Why thank you," said Kamio sarcastically, taking a half-bow. "I do what I can."

He approached the trampoline and jumped onto it next to Kirihara, letting himself collapse so that they were lying side by side. Kamio took a large chunk of the cake out in his hand and started eating. "Yo' should haff' some," he said thickly, while chewing. "Drinkin' on empty stoma'…"

"Kamio!" Kirihara said in mock honor, putting a hand over his heart and fluttering his eyelashes. "Are you worried about me?" he asked, though he started digging into the cake either way.

Kamio rolled his eyes. "Guess again." He echoed the words of so many months ago and for a brief moment they made eye contact, remembering that morning in the hospital room. It felt like so long ago, so far away it was crazy.

Kirihara was the first to start laughing. "That was really stupid, even then," he said in his best cackle.

"Fuck you, you were the one who started it," Kamio shot back, though he was tittering as well.

"I know, I was," Kirihara acknowleged. "And I don't care."

Kamio looked at him levelly, pulling off another piece of the cake. "I know you don't."

What Kamio didn't quite know was why he himself didn't care much anymore either.

"So, very clever plan to get out of going to the comic books by the way," Kirihara added. "A great cover up. I like how you even staged the party with all of your friends. That was a nice touch."

"Pssh," Kamio dismissed this comment with a wave of his hand. "I'll go to your stupid comic books any time. This was just too good of a night to pass up. It had to end outside."

Kirihara looked up at the stars again, felt the cool air around him and an internal grin taking over at Kamio's words. "Agreed."

A/N

It's been so long...

Could have been happier with this but whatever, I tried!