A/N: I remember back in Part 5 when I said I might have been halfway through writing this fic and now I'm on Part 12 and I think I might be two-thirds in. I don't know what happened. These boys have taken over, man.
Anyway, return of some Samezuka peeps! I think this chapter is also a bit longer than the rest?
Enjoy.
So, Rin was pretty mad.
"LET GO OF ME, SOUSUKE."
And based on the way Sousuke had to lock his arms around Rin's shoulders to hold him back from pulverizing two specific underclassmen, one could say the decoy plan was proving successful.
"You need to calm down," said Sousuke, who stood like an iron pillar cemented into the ground, despite Rin's flailing.
Well, they did it. Their team captain officially assumed that they were trying to sneak in a quickie before being lectured, but despite achieving that goal, Momotarou Mikoshiba and Aiichirou Nitori were nothing short of terrified. Like two shivering Chihuahuas caught in heat, these two held onto each other as they faced their shark overlord brattle wildly under his friend's restraint. Surely it was like facing death itself.
It wasn't fair to say Rin Matsuoka was prone to violent rage, but Nitori had seen him punch a poor, unsuspecting vending machine after receiving the wrong drink one time. In Rin's defense, that was also the day he denounced swimming forever and his anger might have been more about that than the orange soda he threw at the wall, but these details were fuzzy in Nitori's memory of his golden senpai. So with the anxious fear that he might have severed the bond of their friendship, Nitori broke and wailed, "I'M SORRY, RIN-SEN—"
"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT, AI," yelled Rin.
Getting defensive over his pouting senpai, Momo stood his ground and firmly asked, "Is what we're doing so wrong?"
"WRONG?" This little shit was asking Rin if what they were doing was wrong, he couldn't believe it. He honestly could not even comprehend the audacity weaved all over that question—like seriously? Just gonna stand in his otter boxers and try and talk to Rin like he's crazy, like Rin's some rude asshole disrupting their private time—oh no, oh hell no. Momo was not going to act like this was okay, like Rin didn't text the both of them, like they didn't just admit that they did something worthy of being banned from the damn cafeteria and—YOU KNOW WHAT, NAH, FUCK THIS SHIT, Rin thought, and shouted, "YOU KNEW WE WERE COMING AND YOU STILL TRIED TO DO IT. YOU ACTUALLY TRIED."
"Rin." Sousuke squeezed his arms tighter around Rin as he muttered just next to his ear, "Remember what the article said."
The article Sousuke was referring to was "Controlling Your Anger Before It Controls You," a how-to guide on anger management, which was sent as a joke by Gou to Rin after the time the deviled redhead threw a PlayStation controller at Haruka Nanase over a heated battle of Extreme Pro Fishing: Holy Mackerel! Edition. In Rin's defense, the game did date back to 1999 and had difficult controls to follow, but it was the only game Haruka owned besides this game about French pastry baking (which was oddly even more frustrating and difficult to score well in), so he dealt with the "stupid ass game." Still, the anger management article did not go unread, much to Sousuke's pestering, and had even helped Rin begin to tame the beast within.
So Rin began the process.
Step 1: Identify the problem. Why are you upset?
"I AM UPSET BECAUSE THEY TRIED TO BANG," Rin determined, taking note of his word choices, "AND BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON." He growled. "AND I DON'T LIKE NOT KNOWING WHAT IS GOING ON."
Step 2: Breathe. Let the negativity flow out of you.
Rin took deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, and looked down at the carpet floor, where his underclassmen's clothes laid. Tension crept over him until he felt himself begin to swing side to side, a cradled rocking that let him relax in Sousuke's hold and lean back onto his friend's chest. Let the negativity flow out of you, Rin repeated to himself, timing his breaths with the rocking, like a metronome for his angry, beating heart.
"There we go," Sousuke murmured, letting go of Rin. "Now let's try this again."
Step 3: Be a translator for "the beast" inside. Use "I" sentences to express your frustration in a calm, rational manner so people can understand where you're coming from.
After a quick roll of his shoulders, Rin crossed his arms. This was the part he didn't like because it was dumb, if he was honest, because it was other people's fault for why he was angry, not him. Rin preferred living a simple, structured life. Routine morning jog, balanced meals, school, swim practice, homework, nightly weight-training, a brief period of relaxation, and then sleep. This kept him sane. Control your body; control your mind.
But then again, freaking Momo and Ai knew nothing about controlling their damn bodies, now did they?
"As your captain, I," Rin said through gritted teeth, "feel disrespected."
Oh no.
Momotarou and Nitori glanced at each other, cringing at what they had managed to accomplish, and bit their lips to restrain themselves from blowing their cover. Of all the things Rin could have said to them, they were not anticipating this. These boys idolized Rin Matsuoka—one more than the other—but they practically worshipped the man's feet at the diving board, would swim across the Pacific for the damn guy if he asked, and probably fight off a bear for him if the situation arose for some reason or die trying. The extent to which these boys loved this man was borderline obsessive—perhaps something that would come up in couples' therapy at some point—but at its core was pure and golden Kouhai Syndrome.
And so hearing that they disrespected their beloved Rin-senpai sent the two into tears.
"Wahhhh, noooooo, Rin-senpaiiii," cried Nitori, immediately pushing Momo away from him with a force greater than the strong nuclear force, which was 100 times stronger than the electromagnetic force and 10 trillion times stronger than the weak nuclear force and 100 trillion-trillion-trillion times stronger than gravity, which wasn't true, but Nitori had a physics exam today and both the Meaning of Force and the Annihilation of Friendship was 100 trillion-trillion-trillion times too strong for his frail, sensitive heart. And so he cried, "I would never disrespect yooouuuu!"
And Momo, having ricocheted off the desk chair he was slammed into, fell to his knees and inched towards Rin with clasped hands as he wailed, "Forgive us for our sins! We know not of what we do!"
A bit dramatic, Rin thought, sighing as he watched his weeping friends throw themselves all over the floor in agony.
"Look at them," Sousuke said, nudging Rin's shoulder. "Look at what you've done."
Rin glared at Sousuke as he felt the pleading, guilty hands of his underclassmen grip onto his pants. They were full-out sobbing, shaking his hips back and forth while also wiping tears away, and they cried out several times over each other, "We're sorry! We're so sorry! We're so sorry!"
Oh, for crying out loud. Massaging an aching vein in his temple, Rin recalled one of the final steps in the anger management article about forgiveness and avoiding blame and all that crap. He still had to focus on voicing his concerns without shattering Momo and Ai's tiny egos, especially now as they both sobbed into his legs about being the worst kouhais to ever exist and for shame how they've given in to their own temptations and disgraced themselves in front of their great senpai, their beautiful senpai, their godly senpai—they are not worthy, senpai!
"Okay, stop!" Rin shouted, trying to shove their faces away. "It's okay, alright! Just stop!"
"Forgive us!" they both cried, struggling to push their faces through Rin's hands somehow.
"Fine, I forgive you!" Rin shouted more, giving one final shove and stepped back from the two. "It's just," he sighed, annoyed, "you two have been acting weird, you know."
Ever since the rumors began about Momo and Ai dating, things got weird. They never really owned up to it, even though it became increasingly more obvious to the rest of the swim team, and here Rin found them trying to get frisky in the morning—because they were banned from the cafeteria? It wasn't as if they needed to be vocal about their relationship, but well, Rin seemed to be under the impression that they almost never hid anything from him, so what was this all about?
"I don't like that you're hiding things from me," Rin confessed, refusing to look them in the eyes because he felt silly telling these dorks that secrets bothered him. "It's suspicious, okay?"
"Rin hates secrets," Sousuke teased.
"No," Rin defended. "I just don't like that they're getting in trouble lately."
But as he observed Momo and Ai sniffle on the ground in their shameful sorrows, Rin figured whatever they were hiding was probably nerves. Maybe a relationship was new to them, he reasoned, knowing how awkward they were. He just didn't want to see them Discovery Channel-style; that was unnecessary. They could have some decency, you know. Or learn how to lock their doors. That wasn't too much to ask.
So he growled, "I'm not mad anymore, okay? But stop acting weird—you're acting weird." He turned around, frustrated that this had to happen at all. "So stop it!"
"Okay…" Nitori mewled, wiping his nose.
"Never again!" Momo promised, "We'll never disrespect you like that ever again!"
Rin waved a dismissive hand as he headed out the doors and with a final scold, he said, "And lock your doors now, damn it!"
Once Rin officially left, Sousuke closed the door behind him, crossed his arms, and sternly looked down at the culprits as he said, "All right, you've done a good job distracting him, now spill." He narrowed his eyes. "What did you two idiots do?"
Momo and Nitori nervously glanced at each other.
Oh boy.
Never in his life was Momotarou this relieved for classes to start.
Momo sat at his desk, unpacking his notebook and pens, and took a deep breath that the rollercoaster events finally settled to a seeming end. He pushed back the cafeteria fiasco out of his mind as well as the harsh tones from Rin (and later Sousuke) and instead twiddled his pencil as he lingered on the memory of how Nitori blushed underneath him—not that he could really daydream too much about that intimate moment, but maybe it was okay to remember the way Nitori's lips parted or how his thighs felt in Momo's caress…
From first kiss to—what would he call it? Halfway to stealing third base? It didn't really matter because it still made Momo bite down on the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from smiling too wide. They didn't even kiss as they posed, but that's because Momo knew he wouldn't be able to handle that on top of seeing his bashful senpai's hips fidget and buck in their nervousness. The struggle was a little too real for his lower region, so adding a kiss—knowing that just the simple, soft graze of their lips against each other's could shoot a tingle down Momo's spine straight to his groin—would have been a one-way ticket to Bonersville, let's be honest.
But still, you could say this was the best day in Momotarou Mikoshiba's life.
"You look happy," greeted the now infamous Toru Iwashimizu, who blurred the lines between being Momo's arch nemesis and his ultimate guide down the romance road. He was the guy who pushed Momo into kissing Nitori, which was both the cause for the greatest embarrassment of his life and the catalyst to a beautiful world of possibilities.
"H—Hey," said Momo, who continued to fiddle with his pens, but also wiped his nose just in case.
Iwashimizu took his seat, taking on his regular bored expression as he flung his school supplies onto his desk, brought his feet up to the edge of his seat, and slouched. As Momo watched Iwashimizu rest his neck over the edge of the backrest, he debated whether he should even mention any of the things that happened within the past twenty-four hours. After all, Momo still wasn't sure where the both of them lied on the friendship spectrum. Assuming everything went fantastically well with Nitori-senpai and they really did fall in love and made a life together and did grown-up things—like getting a joint bank account or reluctantly going to coworkers' engagement parties without being engaged themselves or reading internet articles together on how to… experiment in the bedroom—then this would all be thanks to Iwashimizu, which meant he would have to be the Best Man at their wedding (or at least one of the groomsmen since Seijuro would probably put up a fight and go on a drunken rampage about but we're literally bros, bro!), which meant Momo needed to make Iwashimizu more than his swim mate, but a friend—a best friend, a friend he told things to.
There were two things Seijuro promised him were real in life: love and bros.
"So," Iwashimizu yawned, "how's Nitori-senpai?"
And by god, Iwashimizu was about to become Momo's bro.
"I…" He scratched his neck, but then admitted, "I took your advice."
A sly smirk crept onto Iwashimizu's face as he straightened his posture, and with a bemused tone, he said, "No kidding?"
"Yeah."
"How was it?" Iwashimizu asked, reaching into his pocket.
This should have been a simple question, but considering this was the defining, make-or-break moment of their friendship, this was the trigger to a dangerous gossip exchange. Both of Momo's siblings advised him on the politics of making friends in high school, polarized in their opinions. Seijuro, bright beacon of honor and patriotism that he was, believed in honesty and fairness when getting to know others, which worked for him because everyone loved Seijuro or at least thought he looked damn good in a speedo.
Yukiko, on the other hand, was an agile vixen in the world of adolescent espionage, who firmly lived by the philosophy of keep your friends close and your enemies closer. She knew all the tricks of the trade, and when her little brother—who meant well, but who also was a little dumb—announced he was going to Samezuka Academy to follow the footsteps of their eldest brother instead of her school, where she could be his Sherpa in a land of wild hormones and loose lips, Yuki told Momo one thing and one thing only: trust no one.
So before Iwashimizu could become a proper bro, Momo first had to determine whether the nonchalant matchmaker was the natural wingman he was destined to be or, as Momo's sister once put it, a "backstabbing hoe only in it for drama." And while he wanted to give Iwashimizu the benefit of the doubt, the reality was that Momo noticed Iwashimizu's phone get pulled out from his pocket, letting the air grow tense. It was as if the apathetic blond had slapped a loaded gun onto his desk, baring its threatening presence for Momo to see, as he casually asked further, "Did you like it?"
Were they two students having a little chat about first kisses or were they gangsters exchanging information? Could Momo trust him? Did it matter? Because honestly Iwashimizu was the kind of guy who looked like he didn't give a shit—about anything, really—and Momotarou found some sort of comfort in this, but maybe that was the trap, an illusion of trust that could only be formed by an evil gossiping mastermind. It was crucial that Momotarou did not actually admit to anything.
Although, the fact was that most people already assumed Momo and Ai were dating, so what difference did it make revealing that they kissed?
Did Toru Iwashimizu really have the upper hand in this whole shibacle just because he knew the deets before they hit the streets?
Was Toru Iwashimizu a bro or a foe?
Momo looked straight into Iwashimizu's dead, black eyes.
"Yes, so much," Momo confessed, slamming his head onto his desk. "It was amazing, Iwa-saaaan."
Why did he break so easily? Well, the thing was, Momo really wanted to talk about it.
And Iwashimizu knew this, knew from the moment he walked into the classroom and saw the ginger boy smiling to himself at his desk that things were about the get juicy. Nothing exciting ever happened at Samezuka Academy, which was a bit of a let-down to Iwashimizu's Degrassi-esque fantasies of what could have been his private school life. One time he told his roommate, the one he barely talked to, that he was actually in love with him—just to see what would happen—and all he got were heart-shaped waffles with strawberries and a lecture about academic priorities over love distractions, which technically wasn't a rejection, so Iwashimizu decided to pretend they were dating. And for every time Iwashimizu would whisper a teasing, seductive daisuki to his roommate, the only reaction he ever got was, yet again, more waffles. How dull.
So, sue him if he wanted to find some joy in watching Momotarou Mikoshiba discover his first love via the nervous train wreck that was Aiichirou Nitori.
"Told you," he said. "Would I steer you wrong?"
It was about as much excitement as he was going to get.
"The first time I tried to kiss him, he pulled away and I basically died," Momo said, his cheeks tugging at the corners as he slid his face on the desktop towards Iwashimizu. "I hated you for that."
"Bummer," Iwashimizu said, looking through his phone. "But you kissed him, right?"
"Yeah, this morning, and…" Momo sat up, pulling down on his cheeks as he felt his grin grow wide. "It was like—well, I'm not really good with words and describing stuff, but…"
This was it, Momo thought. He had to be vulnerable in expressing his feelings and whatever reaction he was going to get from Iwashimizu was the defining moment of where they stood with each other.
"Yeah?" pressed the blond, looking up from his phone.
But this was hard and this was scary because the last thing Momotarou wanted to hear after the first time he told anyone about what he felt when he kissed Nitori-senpai for the first time was that he was being dumb or rushing things or getting carried away or anything like that—because he knew beginnings of anything were exciting and that he himself was very prone to getting too excited for just about everything, but Momo just really wanted to share. This boy, who loved showing off his beetles or his latest record times for swim laps or all the things he felt proud of himself for, liked sharing good things.
And if Iwashimizu was really going to be his best bro, he had to know if the guy could understand all the little things that made Momo happy. So with some hesitation, he said, "Okay, don't laugh, but…"
"Mmhmm," Iwashimizu hummed, giving his attention to the nervous peach boy.
And after one big inhale, Momo described, "You know how when you introduce yourself to someone, you don't really know if you're going to be friends? But you kind of hope you do—and there's like this weird feeling in your chest for a long, long time as you get to know them, but then one day you realize that, yeah, you're friends! You did it! You made this new connection with someone! And it's good; it feels really good. And when you hug them, you think, this is real. You know, like, you found someone who thinks the exact same things about… you."
Iwashimizu set his phone down and watched Momotarou settle his hands into his lap.
"I mean, maybe it's because I've never kissed anyone before, but when I kissed Nitori-senpai, it wasn't like seeing fireworks or whatever other people say—it didn't feel like the start of something new or anything like that," Momo said, his voice getting softer. "I get this weird feeling in my chest when I look at him," then he chuckled, "but I kind of like it."
"Well, shit."
It seemed that Iwashimizu had started something much more than some light entertainment.
"I didn't know you had it that hard for Nitori-senpai," Iwashimizu teased. "You gotta tell me when you bang him."
"H—Hey!"
Admittedly, there was a part of Iwashimizu that had initially set up the whole scenario as a joke, as something he could gossip about with the rest of the Samezuka swim team if he wanted or keep to himself if it wasn't as interesting, but shit, he thought. He watched Momo smile to himself and saw how the boy eased his shoulders at what was obviously the thought of his dorky roommate. Who would've thought, Iwashimizu wondered, that he would have legitimately sparked something oddly extraordinary?
"Thanks for the advice, Iwa-san," Momo said.
Maybe there was something more to Mikoshiba than being the goofball who consistently rammed his head against the pool walls.
"No problem," said Iwashimizu, putting his phone back in his pocket.
Maybe they could be friends.
The thing about trying to keep your love life low-key is that is it very hard when you yourself are bad at being low-key anything and it is even more impossible when you hear your name being called to the principal's office.
"I repeat," spoke the principal's assistant over the speaker system. "Nitori Aiichirou, please report to the principal's office at once."
Everyone—absolutely every student in the classroom and the teacher—turned in their seat to face formerly innocent, unsuspecting Nitori and wondered the what the hell could this kid have done to be called up to the principal's office in a stern matter first thing in the morning? Aiichirou Nitori wasn't exactly known for causing waves, except literally in the pool because people knew he was one of the insane lunatics who decided to join the Samezuka swim team out of his own free will and devote 80%—if not all—of his free time to club. He was the kind of student most people didn't normally pay attention towards until he would wear his swim jersey, and then they would think, oh yeah…
So there were two possibilities for why the goody two-shoes would be called up to the office:
1) Someone died. (Poor thing.)
2) Aiichirou Nitori actually did something bad; and holy shit, it's always the quiet ones, isn't it?
But regardless of what everyone else was thinking, the real issue was that Kazuki Minami and Shouta Nakagawa, who knew all too well about Nitori's life, now had actual evidence that something was going on with the silver darling and there was only one reason they could think of.
"Please tell me it's about Mikoshiba-san," teased Minami, who reached out for Nitori's wrist as he stood up. "It would make my day."
"What? No!—well, yes, but—" said Nitori, his tone growing desperate as he pulled his hand away from Minami's clutch. "—but not in the way that you think!"
Nakagawa lifted his head and simply uttered, "Spill it, Tori-san."
"I—I have to go."
Nitori knew this wasn't the end of his misery, for as he walked past all of the curious eyes and bowed for excusal to leave the classroom for the office, he heard the playful death sentence coo out of Minami's lips, "We'll talk about it in swim practice, Nitori-saaan~"
But the joke was on Minami because considering why Nitori was being sent to the principal's office, it could only mean that this was it, the end of his academic career, the day he would be expelled from Samezuka Academy and have to pack his bags and board a train back to his hometown, where he would face his mother and all his younger siblings and tell them that he had officially dishonored the family and destroyed his future all for a simple surprise party, which had initially started off as a prank, but he might have found love or something; so by the way, meet his boyfriend: Momotarou Mikoshiba, the man responsible for everything.
Oh god, what had Nitori done?
He stood in front of the administrative office door with his hand over the doorknob and could feel his throat shrink as he was just about to cry.
"Nitori-senpai!"
It's funny because normally the addition of Momo's presence would only make Nitori more anxious, but as he looked up from the doorknob and turned to his left to see the shining glory that was the peach boy wonder, Nitori did not feel nervous or dread the sight of him at all. And Momo, who jogged the rest of the way to catch up to Nitori, did not waver when he saw the beaded tears building up in his senpai's eyes.
"Momo-kun," Nitori whispered, still worried about facing his fate, "I—"
But he was stopped short by a kiss from Momo's lips.
It was brief, no more than a simple greeting kiss, but with the way Momo lingered his lips against Nitori's as they pressed foreheads, it was enough to smooth the trembles away. Still, the reality was set, and even though it was kind of nice for him to grip on Momo's uniform and pull him close, they still had to face the principal. With a forlorn whisper, he told Momo, "We're really in trouble this time, Momo-kun."
To which Momo pressed his forehead ever harder against Nitori's and said, "Mmm, yeah, but I think we'll be okay."
And with that, they opened the door to meet their fate.
They did not expect to see Sousuke Yamazaki, though.
They weren't really sure what to think of that, honestly.
Before them sat Principal Oshiro, who sat with his hands folded on his desk and with his glasses resting on Momo and Ai's student files. By the creasing wrinkles on his forehead to his receding hairline, he looked annoyed, but not livid. Standing to his left was the cafeteria manager, whose nametag read "YOSHIDA" and whose arms were crossed as he tapped his foot on the floor, matching its beat to his twitching eyebrow. He huffed at the sight of Momotarou, remembering the cold smack of seven blueberry popsicles and one coconut popsicle hitting against his body like oblong bullets, and said, "Sit down."
There were two chairs to the right of Sousuke.
They sat down.
Now, earlier that morning when Rin left their dorm room with only Sousuke left to scold them further, the looming whale shark had given Momo and Nitori only one set of instructions: leave everything to me.
"Um," Nitori spoke up, "We'd like to say we're sor—"
"There's no need for any of that, Nitori-san," Principal Oshiro declared. "Yamazaki-san already explained everything and your duties have already been decided."
Duties?
Upon this cue, Yoshida-sensei stopped tapping his feet and stepped closer to the desk. His arms were still crossed, but his fingers neatened the cuffs of his navy bomber jacket sleeves, which were rolled up at the elbow. He leaned forward. Nitori noticed a few strands that banged forward from his slicked-back hair. Momo noticed that Yoshida-sensei was looking directly at him, and by the looks of his mustache emphasizing the frown on his face, he was not exactly willing to hear sob stories.
"You threw popsicles at me," he said to Momo, his voice deep, but scratched from tobacco.
"I know," Momo blurted.
Nitori elbowed him.
"I mean, I'm sorry," Momo corrected.
"You boys will be assigned cafeteria duty in the morning before school for the remainder of the week to pay your respects to Yoshida-sensei," said Principal Oshiro. "Both of you will have to report to the cafeteria at 6AM every day until Saturday. Tardiness will not be tolerated."
With a synchronized yes, sir, both Momo and Ai looked at Sousuke, who cocked his head as he shrugged. They couldn't avoid punishment, but whatever Sousuke had negotiated before their arrival had resulted in the ultimate solution to their problems. If they had cafeteria duty, they didn't have to sneak the paper cranes into the freezer anymore. It was instant access.
Just what kind of power did Sousuke Yamazaki have over this school anyway?
Consider these kouhais impressed.
