Hello, all. Sorry, I said I was going to start updating at a quicker pace and now here I am putting this chapter up late. In any case, school is just around the corner, and the ending of this story is just killing me. So if updates start to slow, bear with me. I'll do my best to keep updating as regularly as possible. Thanks to all that reviewed last time!
After briefly consulting the floor map, Atobe announced that they would begin on the fourteenth floor, because Italian designers were always reliable. He insisted on taking the escalator up, however, because he wanted to give each floor a look-over in case something caught his eye.
The first five levels were deemed 'horrendous' and 'insulting.' The sixth 'acceptable.' On the seventh, Atobe demanded that they investigate several racks by a Russian designer he had met once at a fashion show in Paris. As they rounded the corner, a woman came flying at them, her phone out, charm jingling as she screeched to a halt before Atobe.
"Atobe-sama!" she shrieked, "You've got to be kidding me! I thought it was you on the escalator, but... Would you mind if I took a picture with you? I'm a huge fan, I was at your concert the other night! I really can't believe this is happening!"
"Of course," Atobe said, flashing the woman a pearly-white smile. "Sanada, will you do the honors?"
Scowling, Sanada grabbed the woman's phone and snapped a quick picture.
"Thank you so much!" she cried. "My friends are never going to believe this! I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day, but I can't thank you enough! Wow!"
"It's no problem," Atobe assured her, before quickly looping his arm through Sanada's and pulling the taller boy back toward the escalators.
"Do you take pictures with anyone that asks?" Sanada asked.
"Of course not," Atobe replied, stepping onto the escalator. Sanada took the step behind his. "But she looked like she'd have gone a bit crazy if I'd said 'No.'"
"I suppose so."
They stepped off onto the floor.
"It's this way," Atobe said, starting off through the racks of cream-colored shirts and dark slacks.
"Are these made of leather?" Sanada asked incredulously, holding up a pair of mauve pants.
"Probably," Atobe called over his shoulder. "But I'm not quite sure if that's your thing."
"No- I didn't want them," Sanada spluttered, shoving them back onto the rack.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sanada."
"Atobe."
The pop star smirked and disappeared behind a tall, oak shelf housing hundreds of pairs of expensive-looking jeans. Sanada started after him when a long, high-pitched shriek echoed through the store and Atobe suddenly reappeared. His eyes were wide and he looked shocked.
"Atobe, was that you screaming?" Sanada demanded, peering around the shelf. A young girl in pigtails stared back, her hands resting on her hips. She was dressed in a school uniform, and the bandana tied around her neck had 'Osaka' printed on it in thick white calligraphy. Behind her, a group of at least twenty schoolgirls chattered excitedly, pointing to there spot where Atobe had stood moments before.
"Oh," Sanada muttered, "shit."
Someone grabbed his arm from behind and jerked him backward. Twisting himself around, he caught a brief glimpse of the back of Atobe's head before it disappeared into a rack of dress shirts.
"Atobe," Sanada hissed, pulling apart the shirts and staring down at the pop star in disbelief, "what the hell are you doing?"
"Did you see them?" Atobe demanded, gesturing behind Sanada. "I don't want to deal with that right now. We have to get out of here!"
"Well, get out of the shirt rack and let's go get the elevator."
"Fine."
Atobe scrambled out from between the shirts and the pair made a mad dash for the elevator. As the door slid shut, Sanada caught a brief glimpse of the schoolgirls scrambling between the racks of clothes. Shuddering slightly, he slammed his thumb onto the first-floor button.
"I thought you said there was school today, Sanada," Atobe said, leaning back against the glass wall of the lift.
"There is," Sanada replied. "They were from Osaka. It said so on their uniforms."
"On a school trip, then?" Atobe asked.
"Evidently."
A bell sounded and the doors opened. To Sanada's relief, the girls had not taken the stairs. They quickly made their way to the front doors, and Sanada was about to comment on their luck when a camera flashed.
"Atobe-san, look this way!"
"Atobe-san, how are you finding Tokyo?"
"Atobe-san, would you mind giving a name to your escort?"
Men and women armed with microphones and large cameras pushed at each other as they shouted their questions, trying to get a close as possible to the pop star.
"Atobe," Sanada growled, "I told you I have no interest in being on the cover of tomorrow's tabloids."
"I'm afraid it might be too late," Atobe said. "Unless you want to run for it."
"If it will save my reputation."
"Well then, you lead."
Without a second thought, Sanada grabbed Atobe's wrist and started running. He pushed through the crowd of reporters, muttering brief apologies and doing his best to avoid the cameras. Once they broke free of the mob, he made a sharp left and pulled them onto a side street. He released Atobe's wrist and leaned against the wall, frowning. Atobe smirked.
"Oh, there's no way those pictures aren't going to be all over the city tomorrow," he said smugly. "And since it is me we're talking about, I wouldn't be surprised if they appear in American and European tabloids as well."
"You will do everything in your power to ensure that does not happen," Sanada ordered.
"We'll see," Atobe replied, grinning. "If you manage to keep me entertained for the rest of the day, I'll see what strings I can pull."
"Fine. What do you want to do, then, your highness?"
"Oh my, was that sarcasm? Out of your mouth? The world must be ending. Next thing I know, you'll be attempting slapstick."
"You never know," Sanada said dryly. "I'm full of surprises."
"Obviously."
"So, what do you want to do?"
Atobe paused for a moment, tapping his chin softly with a slender finger.
"I want to go swimming," he said.
"Swimming?" Sanada repeated dubiously. "But it's cold."
"Have you never heard of an indoor pool?"
"I've no idea where one is."
"Oh, I have one," Atobe replied flippantly. "I'll telephone my driver. And then this evening, I want to cook dinner again."
"Do you have food?"
"You haven't heard of a grocery store, either, then?"
"I assumed that groceries were below you."
"They are. I'll send Shishido for some. Ootori will be around tonight so he'll do anything to make himself look good."
"Why?"
Atobe laughed. "You really are quite dense," he said, chuckling. "Because he likes him. Not that he'll ever admit it to Ootori's face."
"Oh."
"Mm," Atobe hummed, pressing a button on his phone. "Hello? Yes. No, just for now. My gym. Excellent. Goodbye. He'll be here in ten or fifteen minutes," Atobe announced, glancing over at Sanada, who nodded curtly.
"What should we cook tonight?" Atobe asked.
Sanada shrugged.
"Well, I suppose we can decide later." Atobe gave Sanada a quick once-over before breaking into a wide smirk. "And I've decided that you'll be staying the night."
"You can't just decide these things, Atobe," Sanada said, rolling his eyes.
"Yes I can," Atobe replied, still smirking. "Will you need to stop by your house to pick up your things?"
"I haven't agreed yet," Sanada argued.
"You don't have a choice," Atobe replied simply. Sanada was about to press the issue further when Oshitari's words suddenly rang through his ears.
"Stop playing tennis with Atobe and show him what it's like to be a normal teenager, because at the moment, he is living in a fairy tale and one day or another he is going to have to face reality. I would rather him do it with you than on his own."
"Fine," he heard himself agree. "I'll sleep over." Atobe gazed at him strangely for a moment before shrugging and turning away.
"Good," he said.
They stood in silence until the driver arrived. Atobe stepped into the car first, and Sanada followed. At first, neither spoke, and Sanada found himself wondering if he'd said something wrong and managed to piss Atobe off. His question was answered when Atobe suddenly turned to him and asked,
"Do you pity me?"
"Pity you?"
"Yes."
"Why would I?"
"Because Oshitari lectured you on my misfortunes."
"He didn't."
"He did," Atobe replied, "I can tell. He told you how my career has made it difficult for me to make close friends and how my childhood was sub par."
"Sub par?"
"Do you honestly not know what that means?"
"Of course I do. And in any case, I don't pity you. In fact, I quite dislike you."
"Really," Atobe said, smirking. "That's why you always agree to everything I ask you to do."
"You've said yourself it's impossible to deny you anything."
"You could try harder."
"It would be a waste of time."
"So I'm a waste of time?"
"If you want to look at it like that."
"Whatever," Atobe replied, waving his hand dismissively. "But back there, when I told you to stay the night, you remembered something Oshitari told you. I know you did."
Sanada did not respond, but found it quite frightening that Atobe could read into him so easily.
"Atobe-san, we've arrived," the driver announced, pulling into the parking lot. Sanada glanced out the window and immediately recognized Atobe's apartment building.
"Your gym is in your apartment?" he asked incredulously.
"Top floor," Atobe said, shrugging. "Come on." He stepped out of the car. Sanada followed. Atobe showed him to an elevator in the back of the building. On the way up, he explained that his second uncle owned the entire building and had given him the apartment after his first CD went platinum.
"He's the only member of my family that speaks to me," he admitted.
"I thought you said you didn't want me to pity you," Sanada said, crossing his arms and leaning against the elevator wall. Atobe chuckled.
"My my, aren't you cheeky," he drawled. It looked as if he was going to continue but the ringing of Sanada's phone cut him off.
"Hello? Ah, Seiichi. Yes, everything is alright. No, I'm fine." Sanada sighed and glanced over at Atobe. "It's a long story," he said. "I'm afraid not, I won't be home for long tonight. Of course. No, I should think you know me well enough to understand that I would never miss practice. I knew there wasn't any today. Seiichi, please. Nothing is wrong with me, and nothing has been! You are making a mountain out of a mole hill. What?" Sanada's voice suddenly grew very soft and Atobe stepped closer, hoping to catch a snippet of the conversation.
"What's going on?" he whispered. Sanada shot him an strange look and turned away.
"Seiichi, I... I don't understand why you're doing this. Everything was... Is fine. Please, calm down. Seiichi!" There was a long silence. Finally, Sanada slowly snapped his phone shut and slipped it into his pocket.
"What happened?" Atobe asked quietly.
"Nothing," Sanada said, looking away.
Atobe simply nodded and decided not to press the issue. He had never seen this sort of expression on Sanada's face before. He looked hurt, lost, confused, and angry, as if someone had confessed their love to him and then punched him in the gut.
The elevator beeped and the doors slid open, revealing a tiled pool deck and a large, 50 meter pool. The water glistened in the sunlight, lapping gently at the walls. Atobe stepped onto the deck and Sanada followed. They set their bags down and Atobe showed Sanada to the locker room, where a pair of swimsuits had been laid out beside two thick white towels. Atobe grabbed the trunks he recognized at his own and gently pushed Sanada toward the changing room before hurrying around the corner to change into his suit. As he pulled his shirt over his head, Sanada's pained expression flashed before his eyes. Cringing, he quickly stepped into his trunks and pulled them up around his waist. He knew it whatever had just happened was most likely his own fault. Indirectly, perhaps, but the weight doubtlessly rested on his shoulders. He was coming between Sanada and Yukimura. Intentionally. He had fallen for Sanada so hard that he couldn't bear to think about the stoic boy's relationship with Yukimura, so he did his best to keep them apart. He knew that he was confusing Sanada. And he knew that Sanada truly believed that he was in love with his captain. And for all Atobe knew, he was. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. He wanted Sanada. Needed him.
"Atobe, I'm going." The pop star looked up to see Sanada staring down at him. His towel was slung over his shoulder, his broad chest uncovered. Atobe felt his cheeks grow warm and nodded, looking down to hide his blush.
"I'll be right out," he muttered, reaching for his towel. "I'm just going to take a quick shower."
"Should I?"
"Only if you want. It makes the pool feel warmer to me."
"Oh. I'm going ahead, then."
Sanada disappeared and Atobe stumbled into the shower room, his heart beating rapidly against his chest. He turned the cold tap on full blast and stepped under the stream of water, sighing softly as the cool water soothed his burning skin. After a minute or so, he flipped the tap off and slung his towel around his neck. Taking a long, deep breath, he sauntered out onto the pool deck.
Sanada was swimming laps, his strong arms propelling him easily through the water. Dropping his towel onto a bench, Atobe moved to the side of the pool and watched Sanada for a moment before diving in. He let himself trail through the water until he began to lift toward the surface. Twisting himself around, he sucked in a long breath as his face broke the surface of the water. He lay there, floating on his back, staring emptily at the ceiling. Water lapped against his cheeks as Sanada swam past. Atobe waited until the taller boy had completed three more laps before letting his feet touch the bottom. Sanada stopped at the wall and Atobe called his name. Sanada obligingly swam over to where the pop star stood and waited for him to continue.
"Sanada," Atobe repeated. There was a long pause, before he finally continued. "What's wrong?" He took a step closer to the dark-haired boy and started slightly when he realized that his eyes were rimmed with red. "Are you crying?" he whispered.
"Of course not," Sanada replied, reaching up to rub at one of his eyes. "It's the chlorine."
"Sanada."
Atobe reached out and wrapped his fingers around Sanada's wrist.
"Why do you care?" Sanada mumbled, staring down into the blue water.
"Why wouldn't I?" Atobe demanded, stepping closer.
"Because you don't even know me. I'm just your plaything. I serve to keep you occupied because apparently you have nothing better to do. We mean nothing to each other. We're not friends. We don't even care enough to be enemies."
Atobe felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Closing his eyes, he released Sanada's wrist and reached up, resting both hands on the taller boy's chest.
"How can you say that?" he murmured. He could feel Sanada's heart beating beneath his fingers. "You're right. I don't know you. But Sanada... You're the only person I've ever met that gets me. The fact that I'm a world-famous pop star doesn't impress you at all. You're willing to meet me head on in an argument, not bow your head and let me have my way." His eyes snapped open and he gazed solemnly up into Sanada's dark irises. "Sanada... You mean everything to me."
"Atobe-"
The silver-haired boy shook his head. "Genichiroh," he whispered, leaning forward. "I love you."
Their lips met when Atobe pushed off of the bottom of the pool, pressing himself tightly against Sanada's chest, his hands coming up to weave their way into Sanada's thick black hair. They stood there for a long moment, locked in a one-sided embrace. Throughout the kiss, Sanada made no move to respond. He simply stood stock still, his hands locked at his side. Finally Atobe pulled away.
"Sanada," he mumbled. He could feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
"I have to go," Sanada said. His voice shook slightly. He stepped past Atobe, the water swirling around his waist. He pulled himself out of the pool in one fluid movement. Grabbing his towel, he disappeared into the locker room and reemerged moments later. His clothes were askew, his hair still dripping in his eyes. Atobe watched him from the water in silence as he pressed the elevator button. The bell sounded and the doors slid open, and without another word, Sanada stepped inside. The doors closed behind him and with a slight whir of cables, he was gone.
With a sigh, Atobe slowly lowered himself into the water and pushed off, letting himself float on his back.
"Genichiroh... I love you."
What an idiot he was. To think that Sanada would have any interest in him.
"We mean nothing to each other."
"Atobe!"
With a start, Atobe stood, spluttering as water slipped into his mouth. He shook his hair out of his eyes and stared up at the tall man before him.
"Would you care to explain to me why the hell Sanada just said, 'Nice meeting you' and ran out?" Oshitari shouted.
Atobe didn't answer.
"Atobe!"
Atobe didn't expect the tears. In fact, he hardly noticed them until one slid into his mouth, bitter against his tongue. As the salty taste slid down his throat, he felt it tighten, and suddenly, he was sobbing, choking in breaths. There was a splash and he felt arms wrap around him. Hair brushed against his cheek as Oshitari murmured things in his ear, gently wiping the tears away. They stood there for a long time; Atobe crying, Oshitari condoling with him. Finally, the adrenaline of the event began to wear off and Atobe started shivering, at which point Oshitari lifted him into his arms and carried him out of the pool. Wrapping a towel around his shoulders, he lead Atobe to the elevator. They descended in silence, broken only by soft hiccups from the silver-haired boy. When they reached the apartment, Oshitari gently pushed Atobe toward his room, telling him to put on dry clothes and wait there. Once he was sure Atobe was following his directions, he hurried into the kitchen. Shishido hurried in as Oshitari was putting the kettle on. He looked worried.
"Oshitari, what's going on? Ootori said he saw Sanada coming down the hall as he was coming up. He said he looked really upset!"
"I don't know what happened," Oshitari replied, pouring the hot water into a mug. "I found Atobe in the pool, sobbing. It must have been bad."
"I knew that Sanada guy was an asshole," Shishido hissed. "I swear, if I ever see him, I'm going to kick his ass!"
Oshitari grimaced. "We don't know what happened, so don't blame anyone until we find out."
"If he made Atobe cry, it's gotta be bad," Shishido said.
"He seemed to really care about Atobe when I spoke with him," Ootori said from where he stood in the doorway.
"I'll go see what I can find out," Oshitari said, dropping two sugar cubes into the tea he had prepared and hurrying out of the kitchen. Shishido sighed and dropped into a chair. Ootori took a seat next to him.
"Wow, Shishido-san," he said, smiling slightly. "You really care about Atobe, don't you?"
Shishido glanced up at him and shrugged, blushing slightly.
"Well, I mean, without him, I wouldn't have any of this," he said, waving his hand around. "I kind of owe my life to him, y'know?"
Ootori nodded. "Nobody at the hospital thought I would go anywhere," he admitted. "They all thought I was too timid, too hesitant to make as a doctor. But after I had the good fortune to give you stitches, Atobe called the hospital and told them he wanted me to be his private physician." He laughed softly. "I never thought I'd say this, but thanks for tripping over that toolbox, Shishido-san!" Shishido grinned.
"Anytime," he said, running a finger over the scar on his forehead. Ootori smiled at him before sighing and staring at the doorway Oshitari had hurried through not too long ago.
"I hope Atobe's alright."