Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ryan looked from Mitsuru to Shinobu, tasted the frisson of electricity that jolted in the space between them. He wisely backed off and slumped on a seat two rows down from the fireworks that were sure to ensue. Mitsuru still had a hold of the pole, although his grip had gone slack as he eyed his roommate uncertainly. Shinobu was ramrod straight, his back stiff and brushing against the train doors. The two boys faced off like two boxers in a ring.

Let's get ready to rumble!

"Ikeda."

Ding! And they're off! Tezuka's opening gambit is a sharp jab to the chin.

"Shinobu. I can explain…"

Ikeda ducks and feints left.

"I don't need any explanations. Explanations are reserved for friends."

A stinging punch to the gut. That's got to hurt!

"That's not fair!"

Ikeda recovers and rounds his opponent, looking for an opening.

"Isn't it? Fair would have been staying to face the music."

An uppercut with the right.

"I told you to run!"

Ikeda dodges the blow.

"Fair would have been not letting me take the fall for your brain-deficient escapade."

A jab with the left.

"Now hold on a minute! Are you calling me stupid?"

Ikeda swings wildly.

"You said it, not me."

Tezuka's not holding back any punches, folks.

"Shinobu, would you just listen…"

Ikeda backs up against the ropes.

"Why? So you can prance around the truth like you did this afternoon?"

Tezuka delivers a punishing blow.

"I asked you to come with me!"

Ikeda can't seem to free himself from the ropes. It looks bad, ladies and gentlemen.

"An empty request. You knew I wouldn't accept."

Tezuka's attack is relentless.

"No, I didn't know. Besides, you weren't very receptive, were you?"

Ikeda puts both gloves up to defend.

"Well, you didn't try hard enough to convince me."

"What? Am I supposed to beg you now? Oh, almighty Shinobu! Please grace me with your revered presence!"

What's this? Ikeda's putting up a fight, folks!

"Something like that."

Tezuka dances back, evading the punches.

"You're crazy!"

"Perhaps. But I'd rather be crazy than deceitful."

Oooh, a low blow!

"What are you talking about?"

"How long were you planning on keeping up this charade?"

Looks like Tezuka's got this fight in the bag, ladies and gentlemen.

"Okay. Now I know you're crazy! What charade? What are you talking about?"

"Him."

Ryan stopped his amused play-by-play and straightened up warily as Shinobu jerked his head in his direction. He didn't think he wanted to get pulled into the fray. This was no tag-team match. Thankfully, Mitsuru felt the same way.

"Ryan? What's he got to do with this?"

"Oh, so now you're adding clueless to your list of faults."

"Shinobu, will you shut up! Shut up or just say what you have to say. I'm tired of beating around the bush with you!"

"Fine. You really want to know what I'm thinking?"

"Hai!"

"Alright. I don't appreciate being lied to. I don't appreciate being left in the dark. I don't appreciate feeling awkward around my best friend. And I certainly don't appreciate that the awkwardness is all due to some foreign interloper who has apparently brainwashed my best friend into thinking I'm dispensable."

One, two, three heartbeats. The whoosh of the electric-powered bullet train. The nervous cough of the only other occupant in the compartment besides the three boys. Four, five, six heartbeats.

"Aw, shit. Will the two of you just kiss and make up already?" Ryan's voice splintered the stillness that had followed Shinobu's impassioned speech.

"What?" Again, Shinobu transferred his steely gaze to the dark-haired boy. The frost was palpable.

Oh, real smart, Sakata. Wave the red flag in front of the mad bull, why don't you! Ryan berated himself. Then he sighed, martyr-like. Ah, well. I guess I do owe you one, Mitsuru.

The boy leaned back and propped both legs on the worn plastic in front of him. He draped hone arm on the metal rail that topped the train seats' backs and reached into his coat for some artificial courage. Putting cigarette to lips, Ryan gave Shinobu a lazy, disarming smile.

"Want one?" he asked, holding out his pack invitingly.

"There's no smoking on the train."

"Ah. My bad." Ryan lit the Camel anyway. Shinobu's eyes went to half-mast dangerously.

"Ryan, I don't think that's such a good idea…" Mitsuru began.

Ryan wasn't sure whether the blonde meant the lighting of the cigarette or the taunting. Regardless, he forged on recklessly.

"So, Tezuka. You gonna grow some balls and do the deed? It's why you're really pissed, right? Coz you thought I'd beat you to it?"

"You sorry son of a bitch!"

Ryan thanked the powers that be that Mitsuru was as quick as he was. The blonde moved with quicksilver speed, jumping in front of his roommate before Shinobu could successfully bridge the distance between himself and his foe. Ryan didn't think he had enough energy left to prevent the silver-haired flame of vengeance from plunging his hand in his chest and ripping out his heart. He took a deep drag from his cigarette instead and prayed that he hadn't betrayed the tremor of fear he had felt when Shinobu had first rushed him.

"Shin, calm down! He didn't mean it! He's been ribbing me like that all night. It was just a joke!"

Shinobu glared over the arm Mitsuru had flung across his chest to stop him. Ryan met his scowl with another cocky grin and lifted his shoulders in a mocking shrug. Shinobu leaped forward again, growling incoherently.

The swish of a door signaled the other passenger's departure from the car. It seemed the man had not wanted to get involved in what looked to be a bloody imbroglio. Mitsuru didn't blame him. It was taking every ounce of his strength simply to hold his roommate back. He couldn't see what Ryan was doing behind his back that was making Shinobu crazy, but Mitsuru wished he would stop. Gods, when had Shinobu gotten so strong? And had he always been this muscular?

Ryan decided that he was weary of baiting his opponent. He was coming off his adrenaline rush and he knew he had to do something fast to get him through the night. He would not survive otherwise. The boy took one last hit of his half-smoked cigarette then languidly stood with cat-like smoothness. He stubbed out his cigarette on the train's metal floor with his boot then walked up to the two boys and gently pried Mitsuru's arm from its death grip across his roommate's chest.

"Okay, boys. Play time's over. Let's call it a night." Ryan offered pleasantly enough although he couldn't resist baring his teeth in a mock snarl at Shinobu.

It was a final, defiant act in the face of the bone-numbing weariness that slammed into him like a Raider defensive lineman. Ryan was so used to these attacks now that outwardly, he still managed to project an air of devil-may-care insouciance. But he noted the trickle of sweat that toyed with his spine and the slight trembling of his hands that signaled the strain of maintaining his casual façade. He was going under soon and he'd forgotten his meds. Shit.

Because he faced him, Shinobu was the one who noticed Ryan's anxiety. The ice prince was familiar with the symptoms of a man struggling for control – God knew he'd practiced it often enough himself. He saw Sakata's jaw clench, his eyes haze, his limbs tense. But that was all that betrayed the other boy's internal battle. If Shinobu had been less perceptive, even those signs would not have been noticeable. The boy was good. And although the reason for this private conflict was unclear, Shinobu experienced a pang of grudging respect for his nemesis.

It seemed there was more to this American than a cocky attitude, and if Mitsuru had given him the benefit of the doubt, Shinobu would be less of a man if he didn't do the same as well. His earlier soul-searching had given him plenty to think about and now this crack in Sakata's implacable veneer awoke the curiosity within him. It was always better to focus energies into solving a mystery than wasting them on other inexplicable emotions. Shinobu decided that, rather than avoiding the issues, he would attempt to exorcise his own personal demons by confronting them head-on.

"Indeed."

Ryan startled at the lack of animosity and implicit agreement to his suggestion in Shinobu's response. Bewildered cerulean traded a quicksilver glance with calculating slate and a wary truce was acknowledged by both boys. Mitsuru sensed the dispersal of tension and did not question this minor miracle. Instead, the blonde's innate ebullience asserted itself and he patted his shorter roommate on the head.

"And that makes four, Shin."

"What is it that you keep counting? And don't call me that."

"Maybe someday I'll tell you. And you know you love it when I call you `Shin'." Mitsuru snickered. He could afford the teasing now that he felt in the clear for the present; his roommate's trademark retort signaled temporary absolution.

"No, I don't. And you still owe me for lying to me about where you were going today."

"Yes, you do. And if you had come with me when I invited you, you would have seen that I didn't lie; I did go running but I met Ryan afterwards at his place."

"Well, then. You owe me for leaving me to deal with that offensive little man."

"`Little'? That cowboy was at least several centimeters taller and a whole lot of kilos heavier than you. What'd you do to him?"

"Maybe someday I'll tell you," Shinobu echoed his friend with the exact coyness Mitsuru had used earlier.

"Hey, that's not fair!"

"Life is not fair, my friend."

Before Mitsuru could wheedle any more information from his friend, the train slowed to a halt. Ryan lurched to the doors and leaped out as they swished open. Then he whirled around and jauntily leaned against a kiosk, smiling indolently as the other two gaped at his mercurial exit.

"This is me, boys. Tezuka, don't get your panties in such a bunch. And Mitsu? Until our next sin…"

The train hooted, the doors whispered closed and Ryan was left at the station, waving one hand. The entire episode had happened so quickly that it took a moment for Mitsuru and Shinobu to recover their wits.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't think he even knows how to get back home. Good job, Shinobu! You scared him off!"

"I? I was the epitome of grace and civility."

"Barring the part when you practically tore his throat out? I just saved you from serving life for murder."

"Oh, please! It would have been involuntary manslaughter at most!"

The train sped away from the station and the two boys resumed their bickering. Thus there was no one of consequence to witness Ryan's surrender to his struggle as he slid down the kiosk that had held him up and collapsed on the unforgiving cement.