Growing Pains
Is it so wrong to feel possessive about a friend?
Eiji always enjoyed being a first year student – he'd enjoyed being the team's little brother in middle school, and he enjoyed it in high school. Everyone always forgave him for his mistakes, because he was Eiji, and Eiji could always be forgiven. Plus, Oishi was always there for him.
Always.
Right?
Recently, the team seemed to be babying one of this year's new first years, instead of him. Even in middle school, when the small new first years had arrived and Eiji had had a growth spurt, his teammates still treated him as the team pet, and that was OK. Over break, though, puberty seemed to reshape who he was entirely. He'd returned no longer a boy – he had a deeper voice, a taller and more muscular build, everything to indicate he was a man, not a child. His inner self didn't want to be a man yet, though, and adamantly refused to be one. Instead, he continued pulling pranks, making random, meaningless sounds, and in general, carried on like a child. No one seemed to mind, so he thought it was all OK. Though, being Eiji, he probably wouldn't have listened, even if someone had told him it wasn't OK anymore. He never was one to value other people's opinion much, so long as he got his much adored limelight. Perhaps it was because he was the baby of his family – something that would never change – that kept him so, but he didn't mind. It was fun.
It was fun, that is, until one of the new first years, someone he'd never seen before, caught the attention of the older club members, with just how cute, how young, young little brotherly he was.
It was a harsh reality check when Tezuka snapped at him to act more like a senpai. Eiji was silent for the rest of that day, pondering the meaning of Tezuka's words. He did act like a senpai, right? He'd been forced to treat Momoshiro and Echizen to after school 'snacks' several times in middle school – which, he recalled with a grimace, was more than normal people ate for dinner. Besides, the first years were comfortable around him – which was far more than could be said for other, scarier classmates of his – and that was part of being a senpai too, right? And that was enough, right?
Maybe he should've listened to Tezuka then. And maybe he shouldn't have continuously acted so childish and innocent, especially around Oishi.
Oishi. Oishi had turned his world upside down when they first met. He'd been shocked that the quiet Oishi, who just followed Tezuka around everywhere, was so good at tennis. He was even more surprised that the boring boy could beat him somehow without any flashy moved. Yet, somehow, that boring boy did – several times in a row, no less. He'd been surprised to find Oishi training so hard on his own, and as a result of his being completely caught off guard by the not-so-boring-after-all Oishi, he'd made an agreement to play doubles with him. They'd been astonishingly good together, and still were.
Even when everyone else turned their attention to the first years, Oishi always paid attention to him. Fuji no longer went to the same school as them, but Fuji would've also continued to smiled at his antics, no doubt, had his former best friend still been there. Oishi and he were still playing doubles at the same school though, and Oishi would always love his childish charms.
Yet, here he was, staring at Oishi with a questioning look on his face, his mouth forming the word "why," though no sound came out of his mouth. He tried again, this time succeeding in getting out the whiny question that reminded people of themselves as five-year-olds asking why they couldn't have a cookie before dinner. But he didn't want a cookie – he wanted Oishi to spend Sunday with him, because his family was going to be busy and he wanted to spend time with his partner and friend.
"I, uh, I've got plans," Oishi stuttered, blushing slightly. "Sorry, Eiji." Eiji tilted his head, wondering.
"What kind of plans? Can't you do them some other time?" He didn't quite notice Tezuka entering the empty clubroom, until Tezuka came around to stand next to Oishi.
Resting an arm on Oishi's waist and pulling the blushing boy closer, Tezuka said, "No, because he's got plans with me."
Eiji could only stare at his former, supposedly emotionless captain. His eyes roamed back and forth among Tezuka's serious expression, Oishi's indiscernible one, and the hand that possessively held Oishi. His Oishi. "Oishi?" he questioned.
"Kikumaru –"
"I didn't ask you, Tezuka, I asked Oishi." It wasn't often that Eiji dropped his little boy act and let roll the full gravity of his rather suave voice, but to cut Tezuka off required that kind of determination. Two pairs of eyes battled for a brief second, before the strength of one gave way to the emotions of the other, and both turned to look at Oishi.
"I… I'm sorry, Eiji. Tezuka, could you leave us alone, for a bit? I'll meet you outside."
Even when they were sure Tezuka was out of earshot, Oishi was silent for several minutes. Eiji waited for Oishi to start, unsure of what was going through Oishi's mind, and even less sure of what was going through his own. He didn't know why he was upset over this revelation. In part, he was surprised that Oishi and Tezuka were … so inclined. Given that back in middle school, he'd found out that girls had thought he and Oishi, and Tezuka and Fuji, made ideal male-male couples, the concept wasn't as mind-blowing as it might otherwise have been – it certainly was when he'd first heard the notions, and those were just little girl obsessions! Rather, perhaps over the years, he became not only accustomed to the idea of he and Oishi as a couple, but found his in class daydreams sometimes veer towards him and Oishi, on a date.
"Eiji," Oishi finally started, "I'm sorry. This… this doesn't change anything between us though. You'll always be my doubles partner, and one of my best friends." Oishi turned, facing the row of lockers to avoid looking at his partner. "I understand if you think it's gross, or wrong, since we're both guys."
"Oishi –" Eiji started, but was cut off by Oishi putting up a hand, asking for silence.
"Just, listen, for now, Eiji. Please." Oishi paused, only continuing when Eiji didn't protest. "I really hope you don't hate me for this, but there was a time when… when I was attracted to you. But, you were such a child, without a care in the world. I thought it would be wrong of me to wrench that happy, carefree lifestyle from you, and put on you the burden of knowing your partner was gay, and introducing you to all the stigma that comes with it. So I thought I'd wait until we entered high school, thinking that you'd eventually grow up enough to be able to take it. Tezuka and Fuji have their own stories to tell, but I'll leave that to them to tell you."
Eiji waited, but Oishi didn't continue. He didn't know what to say. What was there to say, to reply to a confession like that, after all? "It's not disgusting," he finally blurted. "It's not disgusting at all, because I… I like you, Oishi." Eiji grabbed his bags and ran out of the clubroom.
The boy Kikumaru Eiji was never seen again outside of his family. Sometimes, a trace of the happy-go-lucky boy would be seen in the man's smile when he did a somersault on the court, but even that got more and more rare. One day, Kikumaru challenged Oishi to a game, and won.
I don't usually write angsty stories that have depressing ends. Sorry about this one. Review anyway? Especially if you liked it?
Oh, and for those who haven't read the manga - in Genius 203, Eiji promised Oishi to play doubles with him until he could beat Oishi at singles. Leave me an email address if you want me to email you the chapter.