The second Oishi sees Eiji fall backwards over the side of the ship, something inside of him freezes and dies.
They always say these things happen as if in slow motion, in films and memories, but this doesn't ring true for Oishi at all. All he catches is a glimpse of red as Eiji topples over, and he can't be sure he's seen it at all until Momo leans over to grab his sempai, and they both fall the long distance into the choppy black waves below. Oishi doesn't actually see this part, he doesn't hear their bodies hit the surface… he's wedged up against the wall between a shrieking lady and her overweight husband. He yells out for Momo, for Eiji, and his body acts on its own as he desperately tries to push through the crowd, to look over the water and see a head resurface, to know that Eiji isn't drowning, or unconscious, or stuck under the ship, oh god… bile rises in the back of his throat and his whole body is wracked with intense cold panic because he can't do anything, he's trapped in a sweating, shouting, jostling mass of people who pay no attention at all to the terrified boy who tries to tell them that his best friends have been captured by the sea.
For the first time in his life Oishi experiences a loathing for humanity as passengers clamber over one another to be saved in overcrowded rescue boats. Nobody's listening, nobody cares that the person dearest to him out of everyone in the whole world is freezing in the icy water… the cabin crew ignore the panicked shouting of the boy with wild green eyes and throw him into a lifeboat with the rest of the terrified people.
The boat is lowered down, down towards what Oishi is imagining with hysterical frequency to be Eiji's last resting place. He turns to the person next to him, to tell them to move so he can look over the side, and realises with merciful relief that it's Taka-san. Taka-san will understand, Taka-san will know how important this is and help him work out what to do. But no, this is wrong, Taka-san is looking at him as though he's speaking Dutch, gripping him by his jersey and telling him to slow down, Oishi, calm down, and speak slowly so he can understand. Oishi tries hard not to yell in his frustration, takes deep breaths and swallows; Taka-san looks at him with widening, worried eyes. Together they lean over the side and scan the sea for their team mates, the search made increasingly hard as the sky begins to darken. The sea churns violently, and the wind whips against their jerseys. If Oishi's feeling this cold now, he can't imagine how Momo and Eiji are coping submerged in water, and he grips Taka-san's arm as they huddle together in silence. Taka-san squeezes his arm occasionally, when he draws in deep, shuddering breaths, and in retrospect he feels grateful for the contact which prevents him from falling into hysterics.
They sit like that for far too long. With each long minute that passes, Oishi feels his heart drawn tauter, like elastic, highly strung and aching for relief. When Taka-san nudges him, and points out two bedraggled figures in Seigaku jerseys being pulled up onto another lifeboat, Oishi feels himself just slump, like his innards are collapsing in on one another. He can't speak for a little while, and they sit in silence that is punctuated by the groan of metal and the shrill voices of people still on board the dying ship, so very high up, so far away. He just stares at the figure in the distance, at blue and red and pink, the colours blurring into one another in the odd twilight. He doesn't feel cold anymore, but that doesn't stop him starting when Taka-san's warm hands touch his own numb fingers, telling him to stand and prepare to board another boat, a proper rescue craft that will hold more people.
His legs can hardly hold him up but he forces himself to move.
They find Eiji and Momo.
Oishi can't help himself. He grabs Eiji and holds him, tighter than any casual hug they've shared before. He still can't form any words to say, but they aren't needed, just plunging his fingers into Eiji's wet hair is enough, just burying his face in Eiji's shoulder is sweet relief. He clings to him for far too long, he feels Eiji tense at the contact but he doesn't care. Suddenly he wants to tell Eiji everything, about every memory they've shared and every feeling he's ever had. It doesn't happen, though, Eiji protests with a "Mou, Oishi, I'm fine!" and Oishi reluctantly pulls away, staring into blue eyes that look just as wild as his own.
He tries to restrain himself but it's very hard.
Seigaku find eachother, aided by the unexpected arrival of Hyotei's tennis captain. The Atobe family has its own private boat in the area, and Atobe Keigo himself has brought a small craft to aid the rescue effort after hearing a call on the radio. His ship is heading back to Japan, he says, a small vessel but luxurious and he offers the team the few spare cabins on board. He offers them food and warmth, and Tezuka hardly needs to issue forth with an official "yes". They all board Atobe's boat and don lifejackets, and speed over the sea, away from one sinking ship to another of safety and rest.
The trip is silent but for the roar of the motor. Nobody meets eachother's eyes, they're all too busy trying to comprehend and reflect on all that has just happened. Atobe informs them that the communication over the radio is positive, everyone on board the luxury liner has now been accounted for. Oishi hardly hears him, he's studying Eiji's shivering form and sitting as close to him as he can with their thighs pressed together. He tries to offer his own jersey for Eiji to wear, under the blanket he's been wrapped in, but Eiji sighs in exasperation and repeats himself, "Really, Oishi, I'm fine!" He murmurs words devoid of meaning, about warmth and health, but Eiji's not listening, he's too highly strung to listen. Oishi draws back and resigns himself to just looking, but he wonders why his heart has started to ache again, a desperate echo of what it was like to see Eiji from so far away and not be able to touch him.
Eiji draws his hand away after Oishi holds it for too long, and jiggles his knees up and down while he sits. Adrenaline is still pumping through his veins, he's geared for action and he doesn't feel cold, no, not at all, even though he's soaked and shivering. He wants to do something, tell the police about the gambling racket they uncovered, arrest Sakurafubuki and his accomplices, swim back and save his bag with all his clothes in it, play tennis, clean his room for heavens sake, anything but this barren silence that has overcome his friends. Oishi's acting strangely too, reaching out to him far more than usual and looking at him with raw emotion barely restrained in his eyes. It scares him and he doesn't want to contemplate what Oishi's feeling, so he brushes him off and doesn't think about it.
He tries to initiate a conversation, but it falls flat, everyone pulled back into their thoughts as they try to make out the burning ship as it recedes into the distance. Now Eiji's starting to feel cold, and the rough plastic edge of his lifejacket is starting to bite into his skin. The wind makes his hair fly and whip around into his face, and he can't see the stars properly as they come out because his eyes are still stinging after being open under saltwater.
They finally make it to Atobe's private boat. It's huge. It has a spacious deck, and a meeting room and twenty-odd cabins for any business guests Atobe's father chooses to entertain.
Eiji's hands are trembling as he grips the metal ladder to climb aboard, and he hates it, he hates feeling cold and weak. He shakes even more when Oishi puts his hands on his back to guide him.
Once on board, he realises with sudden clarity that he's absolutely starving, and hardly says a word as they're invited into the small galley and given steaming bowls of miso soup to drink. He burns his mouth as he swallows greedily and forgets to be annoyed when Oishi pushes him his own untouched bowl, barely muttering thanks before he starts to drink more slowly.
Oishi keeps looking at him, hesitantly reaching out to touch him and then pulling away. Eiji does his best to ignore it.
Atobe suggests that they record everything they remember while it's still fresh in their minds, to help any investigation that might come out of the disaster. Tezuka agrees with this, but Fuji looks grim and says that they need rest, and often memories are sharper after a period of time to reflect on them. He says Eiji and Momo need to be given dry clothes, and that they should sleep now and talk in the morning. Eiji turns towards Oishi and waits for him to say something, but he doesn't, he's just staring blankly at the linoleum surface of the table. He opens his mouth to fill in the silence but is cut off when Oishi finally raises his head and agrees with Fuji, everyone needs warmth and rest. Oishi asks if Atobe has any spare clothes for them, and Atobe says it's already been arranged, and there are few things laid out for them in the spare cabins. Tezuka removes his glasses and runs his hands over his eyes, suddenly looking as tired and anxious as the rest of them. He thanks Atobe for his help, and suggests that the team head off to the cabins to sleep, congratulating them on their hard work. He looks as though he wants to say something else and the air is thick with unspoken words, but finally he replaces his glasses and stands. Everyone follows his lead, thanking Atobe and moving to the doorway. Atobe tells them not to worry, and that they'll talk in the morning. They bid him goodnight.
Oishi and Eiji are still close by one another's sides as the teams breaks off into groups of two. They soon discover that the 'cabins' are more like fancy two-person suites, and when Oishi flicks on the lights the room is bathed in a calming warm glow. Oishi shuts the door behind them, muting the noise from outside and Eiji hugs himself, shivering, looking around. Suddenly the room is too silent and they both turn to look at eachother, and speak at the same time; Eiji remarks that Atobe-san has really outdone himself this time, and Oishi asks if Eiji should have a shower, and get warm, and whether he sure he's alright.
Oishi's shoulders relax a little bit and he smiles at their synchronisation, his first true smile in days. Eiji smiles tentatively back, and they feel themselves slowly approaching a sense of normality.
"Oishi," Eiji says, "I'm all wet."
Oishi jerks a little upon hearing Eiji's words, and quickly scans the items laid out on the neatly made beds, picking up a towel and a pair of one-size-fits-all pajamas. He places them into Eiji's arms, and Eiji finds himself looking up to study him. Oishi's face is unusually pale and tight, with grey patches under his eyes that make the green all the more vivid. He's still not breathing quite right, and Eiji's heart still clenches when he accidentally catches a glimpse of that raw feeling in his face… maybe it's because of this that he impulsively steps forward and rests his forehead on Oishi's shoulder, pressing arms full of towel and cloth against his chest. Oishi's hands move on their own to hold him, and he closes his eyes, just for a second. He still doesn't want to think about anything, shoving the events of the past few hours into the back of his mind for later. He doesn't want to do anything either, because suddenly he's overwhelmed with incredible tiredness, and it's all he can do to pull away from Oishi's arms, take a shower and fall exhausted in to bed and dreamless sleep.
The next day, the Seigaku regulars sit to eat breakfast in the galley, and prepare to write down all they remember from the day they stepped on board Sakurafubuki's luxury cruise. Oishi is the last to join them, hurriedly taking his place beside Eiji at the table and touching his fingers to Eiji's arm.
"Hey," he says, "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Don't be stupid," Eiji murmurs, not quite looking at him. "You really needed to sleep. And I can look after myself."
He adds this almost as an afterthought, and shifts in his seat so Oishi's fingers fall from where they're resting against his arm. Oishi looks at Eiji avoiding his gaze for a long while, before he too shifts in his seat and picks up pen and paper.
"I know you can."
Eiji shivers involuntarily, and it's not because he's cold.
He starts picking fights with people.
Seigaku work together in steady silence, giving form to their memories on paper. Eiji watches as Tezuka writes everything he knows about the cruise in methodical dot points. He watches Kaidoh as he draws diagrams of the ship's layout and watches Inui as he frowns and taps his pencil against his head as if it will make his brain calculate faster. Eiji snaps at Momo when he reaches past for an eraser, and grunts when Momo tears his paper by rubbing too hard. A part of him feels bad about the sheepish expression on Momo's face, and how Oishi tenses when Eiji slams his pencil down beside his blank piece of paper. He quashes the feelings though, he's still not ready to approach them and he announces to the team that he's going to the bathroom. Oishi nods at him, and licks lips that have gone dry.
Eiji stands on the deck and looks over the sea for a long time. It looks flat and blue in the pleasant sunlight and nothing like the raging black monster he struggled against last night. Sakurafubuki's luxury cruise is a black speck on the horizon and Eiji finds it difficult to process that he was ever on it, that he was ever pushed overboard or held at gunpoint, or five centimetres away from a bullet through the head.
He grips the metal railing and squints to shield his eyes from the bright light reflecting off the plastic deck. It's too clean, it's too surreal, blank like his feelings, missing something. Surely he should be feeling more than frustration… he thinks of Oishi, what Oishi would be feeling and finds himself inexplicably furious, gripping the railing tight and grinding his teeth as the black speck disappears out of sight. He mistakes fear for anger.
Eiji has finally decided to sit down and write, to get everything out of his system in one go when he returns to the galley to find the regulars preparing lunch.
"We decided to take a break," Fuji tells him. "Do you mind cutting up these onions?"
Eiji forces a smile and nods, trying to let his anger simmer on the backburner. He steps up beside Momo to grab a board and a knife, and starts to chop.
Oishi by his side in an instant, touching his shoulder to let him know he's there.
"Are you alright?" He asks, and Eiji is reminded too much of yesterday.
"Yeah," He mumbles, under his breath, but the knife slips on the greasy surface of the onion and narrowly misses slicing his fingers.
"Oishi! You shouldn't stand there!" He snaps, as Momo starts with an "Eiji-sempai! Be careful!"
Eiji finds it hard to bite back more angry words, staring at the wooden board with an odd ringing in his ears. He's done it again, he realises, caused that raw expression to show in Oishi's face, and it's confusing now because he thought he was just angry at the criminals on the luxury cruise. A well of nebulous emotion is steadily rising within him, causing his gut to clench. It's when he drops the knife down with clatter and tells Momo to shut up that he recognises that he needs to be alone, he needs to be fair to his friends and take himself away so he can sort himself out.
"I'm sorry," Eiji mutters. "I just need some time out. I think I'll go and lie down."
Oishi's expression makes Eiji's heart squeeze and contract even more than it did yesterday. He avoids thinking about it all the way back to their bedroom, where he shuts the door, flops backwards onto his bed and lets it all wash over him like floodwater.
Eiji lies on his back, tracing soft rings around his bellybutton like he did when he was a child, to calm himself. The room is mostly silent, the only sounds managing to make their way into his hearing are muffled and unintelligible. It's a far cry from the roars and crashes of the tormented sea, and Eiji breathes in deeply again as he starts to sort his memories out. His fingers are smooth on his stomach as they travel round and round, and he stares at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. He doesn't remember much about being in the water, or even running around on the ship… all of that is a blur of speed and adrenaline. He strokes the soft hairs of his stomach, grimaces as he remembers running around like a naïve action hero, and feels his pulse quicken as he recalls the sound of a bullet ricocheting off metal.
He remembers the look on Oishi's face as they ran away.
This is all Oishi's fault, he thinks angrily. If Oishi hadn't kept touching him like he needed help, always, always beside him, then he wouldn't be feeling like this. Oishi's been touching him all day, there hasn't been a moment when he hasn't felt or anticipated feeling a strong hand on his arm, on his shoulder or back, or fingers just brushing to tell him things, here's your towel, can you pass me my sock, are you alright, I'm here Eiji, I'm here.
He toys with the waistband of his boxers, and can't get Oishi's face out of his head.
He doesn't realise his fingers are moving idly in the nest of red curls further down below when he starts to truly feel frightened. He suddenly remembers Oishi standing beside him, both of them held at gunpoint and imagines it all going wrong; Oishi lying in a pool of his own blood, Oishi lost, ever-present Oishi gone from his life like a piece of his heart cut away… and he clutches at himself with a gasp to make certain he's still alive. This has been happening a lot recently, thinking of Oishi and getting hard, pleasant thoughts drifting through his mind, silly impromptu grins gracing his face as he thinks of Oishi's grin or how Oishi forgot his lunch that one day, or how Oishi just can't eat cauliflower or gummi lollies. This time is different though, panic and desperation are lacing his feelings and its sweet aching release each time he strokes himself and works off his agitation. He thinks of Oishi's hand on his arm and breathes erratically as his own hand moves faster, he thinks of Oishi's fingers brushing away his hair, on his neck, breast and thigh and he nearly cries out. He's messing up the blankets with his feet, as his toes curl and flex, and it's feeling good, so good through the panic, and he wants to tell Oishi all about it, this is how you make me feel Oishi, never stop touching me, never go away… but Oishi is the only word to make it past his lips, and it's Oishi who has just opened the door to their room, Oishi who has come to check on him, Oishi who is looking at him in shock, Oishi who is murmuring apologies red-faced... and Oishi who has just closed the door and run away, leaving him to lie alone in the semi-darkness.