Bussy? What's That?, an ace of diamond/ダイヤのa fanfic

Fashionably late as always, but happy birthday to our man of the hour, Miyuki Kazuya! I promise I wasn't high while writing this. And "bussy" was mentioned 43 times in this fic...I'm not proud of myself lmao

And sorry for any typos/errors, I barely proofread this

"TERMINATOR! They're intercepting my brain waves!"

Eijun's body springs erect in a groggy panic. He forces his eyes open against the weight of his sleepy eyelids and throws his covers to the side. He looks at his legs and gauges he's still intact, but not for much longer. How he's awaited this day.

When the robotic aliens of the future would come to whisk him away. He's watched enough sci-fi movies and YouTube conspiracy videos, so he's absolutely certain of it. Even Kuramochi's efforts to denounce his "outrageous theories" failed to falter his conviction. He was the chosen one and the robotic aliens found clever methods to interact with him.

Bizarre coincidences, influxes of deja vu, bewitching dreams of a distant planet home to technology beyond Earth's scope, and an unlucky streak of striking out three games straight. The team chastised him for his poor performance, but they simply didn't understand. He would be wasting his breath if he attempted to explain his anomalistic experiences, as they believed not hitting a single ball was anomalistic enough.

Whatever. Eijun doesn't need to deal with them after today. He's enjoyed his transient stint at Seido, but another dimension was calling for him. And it was time for him to answer. A recent dream revealed to him that a vibrating device will appear underneath his pillow.

A rectangle shape with a button near the bottom. A push of that button and his body will materialize into minute particles, shoot into a beam of light, and he'll be transported. Sawamura Eijun will cease to exist in this world, as will the memories of those who have ever known him.

He's come to grips with the repercussions of this life-alternating decision. His family and friends will become patchy names attached to patchy silhouettes, soon dissolving into nothingness. But this was a sacrifice he was determined to make and he mustn't dwell on potential regrets.

He still feels the vibrations. He flips onto his knees and places a hand on his pillow. The sensation, as he anticipated, was originating from underneath. He was mere movements away from beginning a new life. The anticipation triggers trembles throughout his body and he exhales a breath to placate himself. He grabs the edge of his pillow, breathes again, then lifts it.

"My phone?"

A rectangular shape with a button near the bottom. Well, that did fit the description. Eijun concludes the aliens transformed his phone into the summoning system while maintaining its form factor. He's seen this before in magical girl shows, so it had to be true. Eijun lowers a finger to the home button. He hovers just above it, mind flickering with images of what will happen when he presses it. Materialization, beam of light, gone. Ceasing to exist. He's ready.

Eijun presses the home button and squeezes his eyes shut. He whispers his goodbyes as he feels his body…

…remain completely motionless?

Eijun opens his eyes and looks around. He's still in his body, limbs and clothes all accounted for. His surroundings haven't morphed into a beam of light and no robotic aliens were chirping in a foreign language. There must be a mistake or perhaps he pressed the button wrong. He tries again and holds it down, only to activate Siri. He presses it twice and nothing. His phone was just that; a phone. Not a summoning device.

"Maybe tonight's not the night," Eijun reasons to himself, "The aliens will surely make contact with me another time. I shall wait patiently until then."

The vibrating hasn't ceased, however, which prods Eijun's confusion. He didn't set an alarm for whatever time it was right now, and while he was self-admittedly quite popular, no one would harass his messages like this. Though he would be flattered if that was the case.

He picks up his phone and turns it on. He blinks the final wave of sleepiness away and looks at the Lock Screen. A notification from his Reminders app.

12:00 AM - Miyuki-senpai's birthday

"I was woken up for this? I don't care about that guy!"

Even without direct influence, Miyuki remained a master of deception and disappointment. Eijun doesn't recall creating that reminder, and he can't believe that it corrupted his opportunity to befriend some aliens. He is definitely going to give Miyuki a piece of his mind, but for now, he readjusts his pillow and lays back down.

He holds his phone above his face, staring at the reminder and today's date. He said he was indifferent to Miyuki's birthday, but it was evident from the reminder that it was important to him at one point. He swipes it off the screen and begrudgingly decides to send Miyuki a text voicing his lukewarm appreciation.

He taps the Messages app and Miyuki's name, then pauses.

A birthday text? At midnight when he's meant to be sleeping? And look like a beg? Miyuki would definitely call him gross and desperate for acknowledgment. He can see it now:

"You actually waited up till midnight to send me this paragraph, adorned in emojis and misspellings, that I'm totally not going to read? Wow, you're so uncool. I thought only middle schoolers did this. Desperate much? Thanks I guess. Don't do this again though. I'll block you."

Eijun would rather save himself the embarrassment of caring too much for an unappreciative bastard, so he exits the Messages app. Before he can turn off his phone, it vibrates again as the call screen appears with Miyuki's contact photo.

"The timing! He's calling to warn me against it! He really hates me, doesn't he?"

Ignoring the unprecedented call would just exacerbate his dilemma. Eijun clears his throat and slides the answer button. He puts the phone to his ear.

"Greetings," he says in a deep voice, "How may I, Sawamura Eijun, be of service?"

"Do you have any idea what time and day it is?" Miyuki asks.

"November 17th at…" Eijun quickly checks the time, "…12:04 AM."

"How could you say that so nonchalantly like that means nothing to you? I'm disappointed."

"I haven't done anything!"

"Exactly. I was expecting a 12:00 AM sharp birthday paragraph from you, adorned with emojis and misspellings voicing your appreciation for me."

'This bastard!' Eijun thinks, gnashing his teeth.

Every time he thinks he's figured Miyuki out, Miyuki effortlessly overrode his brainwork and left him with blank pages to fill again. Oh, the irony. Oh, the embarrassment. Oh, fuck this guy.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Eijun says, "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Miyuki responds, "I've been waiting for this moment and you didn't deliver. But the fact that you're awake means you know that it's my birthday because you never stay up this late otherwise."

"I can stay up for other reasons."

"Other reasons? What's worth losing sleep for besides my birthday?"

"My life doesn't revolve around you! I'm my own person!"

"Your life technically does revolve around me. You wouldn't be attending Seido if I didn't exist."

"Okay, true, but still. I won't cater to you just because you made it another year around the Sun. I'm surprised no one's strangled you by now."

"I wouldn't mind if you strangled me."

"Huh?"

"Well, if you're that eager to die, Kuramochi would be a stellar candidate to strangle you. He's not your biggest fan."

Unsurprisingly, his innuendo blitzes right past Eijun's head and into some unreachable oblivion. Perhaps it was too innocuous for Eijun to register, but Miyuki adds this as another failure in his book and responds.

"We're great friends, actually. Unlike some people, Kuramochi sent me a text at 12:01."

"What did he say?" Eijun asks.

"'Happy birthday bro. And no I didn't purposely stay up, I was conveniently awake and remembered. Don't get it twisted.' He can be really endearing when he wants. What a softie."

"Unbelievable," Eijun mutters.

He feels crossed. Kuramochi never sent him a message—granted they were roommates; there was no reason to, but those words conveyed more affection than being unsuspectingly choked out on his own birthday ever did.

Eijun was going to have a very stern word about this injustice with Kuramochi. With Masuko as backup. And a bat. And any weapon within his immediate vicinity if he wanted a fighting chance at surviving.

"That's not all," Miyuki continues, "Even Rei-chan sent me a cake sticker at 12:02. I waited four whole minutes from midnight and your name never appeared on my screen. You're so fake, Sawamura."

"I'm not fake," Eijun counters, "I was busy."

"Doing what?"

Eijun opens his mouth to speak, then stops himself. If humans weren't fond of Miyuki Kazuya, neither would robotic aliens. Unveiling their mystical collusions to him and having his transporting privileges revoked sounds unfavorable, so Eijun omits his false alarm and instead blames his inaction on Miyuki's enigmatic tendencies.

"I was busy wondering if it was worth sending it," he says, "I didn't think you were the type to fuss over something so trivial like a text. You have more substance than that. Then again, I could be completely wrong and you're just a lonely, attention-hungry gremlin who salivates whenever his phone dings."

Miyuki sighs, "I was going to say thanks for the compliment until you added that last part. Listen, while I do have substance, I mostly cherish small, trivial gestures. Such as a text message."

"So you wouldn't have called me gross and desperate for typing a big paragraph?"

"What? I'm offended. Why would I ever call you gross and desperate? I'd be extremely grateful if I received that; I'm not an asshole."

"Well, you certainly had me convinced, you freaking asshole!" Eijun switches his phone to his right hand and uses his left to express his frustration through erratic movements, "I was right!"

"No, you were very wrong about me being a lonely, attention-hungry gremlin who salivates—"

"Not that! I was right about you being unreadable. I didn't send a message because I was embarrassed at the thought of you violating me for sounding like I was itching for your approval."

"Everyone always thinks the worst of me," Miyuki says, "What the hell?"

"You can only blame yourself."

Miyuki must be doing something wrong for Eijun to conjure up this egregiously ridiculous perception of him. His snarky remarks and flippant nature during inappropriate moments were all in jest, and for a split second he considers dialing it down so Eijun won't misconstrue his intentions anymore, but he has an inch left to give before doing that.

Miyuki reassures Eijun that he wouldn't have responded derisively to his message. Eijun listens for a sarcastic edge in Miyuki's voice or a muffled snicker, but Miyuki repeats himself with sincerity and he finally believes him.

"If it'll make you happy, I'll hang up and send the paragraph now," Eijun says, "Or do you want me to say it over the phone? I'm great at improvising. Ooh, wait, how about I come over to your room and do it in person for maximum forgiveness?"

"You can do me in person."

"Huh?"

"So you want me to do it in person? Okay, lemme just get out of bed—"

"No need for that," Miyuki says, preparing to deal his final inch, "While that does sound enticing, I'm feeling extremely petty right now, so let's forget about the message. I want more from you. Buy me a present."

"A present?" Eijun parrots. He cranes his neck to look at his wallet on his desk. It grows a pair of leather arms and clasps its hands together, pleading and begging to end its suffering before it began, "You know I don't have the facilities for that! What do you want, anyway?"

"Beats me; figure it out," Miyuki says, "Fire those neurons and think of something nice. You have until the end of the day, so you have more than enough time. Just be aware that if it doesn't satisfy me, you're going to wish you sent a message like you were supposed to. Good luck. Hahaha!"

Miyuki's tinny laughter through the speaker inclines Eijun to spew every profanity imaginable, but he's mindful of a sleeping Masuko and contains himself. Doesn't stop him from confirming that Miyuki was indeed a lonely, attention-seeking asshole gremlin who derived pleasure from inconveniencing others, and Eijun wishes the robotic aliens would snatch his ass instead so he'd never have to see him again.

"I'll work my magic and see what I can do," Eijun agrees reluctantly, "Boy, oh, boy, you have no idea how much I wanna strangle you!"

"Please do," Miyuki breathes.

"Huh?"

"I'm hanging up! Later!"

"Goodnight, Sawamura. I can't wait to receive your gift."

"Screw you!" Eijun stabs the end call button. He gently sets his phone next to him, inhales deeply, then clenches the air near his face as he screams inaudibly.

'Dude catches one pitch of mine and thinks he can do whatever he wants with me! Does this count as bullying? Should I report him? Cause I did not enroll in this school to be manipulated! Jeez…I should check how much money I have first..'

Eijun's wallet is as flat as Miyuki will be once he stomps him into the ground, so he picks up his phone and clicks on his mobile banking app. He enters his login credentials and while it loads, he recalls any previous expenditures to estimate the state of his finances.

His mother sent him a fifty-dollar allowance last week. He admittedly splurged on his snack stash and a new pair of sweatpants, but that should be it. He was otherwise a responsible spender and confident he has a sufficient remainder to humor Miyuki's task—

"FIVE CENTS?!"

Masuko groans in his sleep.

Eijun slaps his hand over his mouth.

He's in utter shock, disbelief, and disgust. There it was, in large bold font underneath the tasteless "Welcome back, Sawamura Eijun" banner as if shit was sweet:

$0.05.

This has to be a mistake. Eijun closes the app, clicks it again, and re-enters his information. He was typing kind of fast, and the existence of a, uh, Sawamura Rijun or Dawamura Eijun with the exact same password seemed like a viable explanatio—

"IT'S STILL FIVE CENTS!"

Masuko grunts in his sleep.

Eijun furiously scrolls through his activity to discover what the heck sucked his financials dry. The snacks and sweatpants purchases are accounted for…and a subscription to a homework help website he forgot to cancel.

Eijun draws his lips into an "o" in realization. His math teacher was smoking crack with the questions they assigned last week. The entire class was stumped for answers—and Eijun couldn't afford another low grade—so being the resourceful student he was, he Googled the questions and found step-by-step solutions on a website.

He paid $16.99, a small price for his classmates to hail him as a hero (and their teacher to eye them suspiciously), but now that price wasn't looking so small at all. Ending the subscription slipped his mind, and he's losing his mind blowing on the digital dust and cobwebs of his bank account.

Eijun takes a minute to mourn before heading over to the website and canceling the subscription expeditiously. A prompt pops up to either pause it or fully cancel it. The website could prove useful again in the future, but Eijun wanted to erase any evidence of him cheating being resourceful from history.

He decides to just ask an upperclassman next time if he needed help on an assignment and ends the subscription that will last until the end of the month.

Matter of fact, he could use an upperclassman's help right now. His financials weren't going to recover on their own, and with a little twist of their arms, his teammates would generously volunteer a few dollars to their favorite freshman.

Kuramochi is Eijun's first prospective donator. He shoots him a text and waits for a response.

[Messages - Mochi-senpai]

Sawamura: I am once again asking for your financial support 🗿

Mochi-senpai: Lmao kys

Mochi-senpai: Never did you just ask me for money. At your big age?

Mochi-senpai: Piss off get ya money up

Sawamura: Pls I need it for Miyuki-senpai's birthday

Mochi-senpai: Don't care

Mochi-senpai: Now stop bothering me I'm with Ryo-san

Sawamura: You're so meannn 😭

Mochi-senpai: Ima show you mean when I get back there in the morning if you don't stop texting

Sawamura: FINE I'M SORRY

As if asking Kuramochi would yield the results Eijun wanted anyway. He assumed the current time and being laid up with Ryosuke would placate Kuramochi's unpleasantness, but wow, was that a precocious assumption.

'Never again,' Eijun thinks. He locates his next targets in his Contacts. If Chris declined his request, Tetsu and Jun were lined up right behind him.

[Messages - Chris-senpai]

Sawamura: I am once again asking for your financial support

Chris-senpai: Hold on

Eijun looks at the top of his screen as he receives an automated message.

Takigawa Chris Y. sent you $15 & it's ready now. Reply STOP to cancel these texts.

Eijun gasps. Are his eyes deceiving him? Fifteen whole dabloons? Eijun can wholeheartedly verify that Chris was officially heaven-sent, and he conveys his gratitude in caps lock.

Sawamura: OMG WHAT

Sawamura: I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU WHAT IT WAS FOR

Chris-senpai: I know. You don't normally ask for money, so I figured it was important

Sawamura: You're too kind! Thank you so much! 🙇

Chris-senpai: You're welcome. Put it to good use

Sawamura: Of course! I'm gonna use it to buy Miyuki-senpai a birthday present

Chris-senpai: Oh…okay

Chris-senpai: Well it's late so you should get some sleep. Goodnight

Sawamura: Goodnight senpai!

Bag secured.

Eijun dances in his bed as he revisits his banking app. $15.05 in all its glory underneath a very tasteful "Welcome back, Sawamura Eijun" banner was enough to make a grown man cry. He kisses his screen before turning off his phone. He covers himself with his blankets and lays on his back. He stares at the bottom of Kuramochi's bed as he exhales through pursed lips, his breath displacing his bangs.

Great. He has the money, now what the hell was he going to buy Miyuki Kazuya?

"It's like he's…thinking about something…"

"If you look hard enough, you can see his synapses releasing neurotransmitters."

"This is frightening…"

Kominato Haruichi and Furuya Satoru hover over Eijun's desk, baffled. Their friend is in a pensive state—brows narrowed, chin in hand, and absentmindedly bouncing his leg under his desk. This was an unconventional sight for them because, respectfully, what was there for Eijun to think about? To this extent where he still hasn't acknowledged their presence?

Haruichi and Furuya exchange looks, then shrug. Haruichi shakes Eijun's shoulder and speaks, "Eijun-kun, you're worrying us. Stop looking like that and say something."

Eijun moves his train of thought to the back of his head and looks up at his friends, "Oh, good morning guys. And stop looking like what? I'm just thinking."

"That's what's worrying us," Haruichi says, "The school day just started and you already have something on your mind. Care to share what's ailing you?"

"We can provide assistance as long as you're not thinking of a way to steal my ace number," Furuya says, "I worked hard for it."

"And I'll work harder till it's sitting pretty on my back," Eijun retorts, "I wasn't even thinking about that, so don't go there."

Haruichi puts a hand back on Eijun's shoulder and the other on Furuya's, "Easy now, you two. Let's keep this rivalry on the field where it actually belongs. I'm rooting for both of you, but seriously, Eijun-kun, what's wrong?"

Eijun sighs. He was resolute on finding the perfect present for Miyuki without enlisting the help of others, but it was proving difficult. There wasn't much he could purchase for $15, and everything he considered was cliché and meaningless.

At this rate, he supposes it wouldn't hurt to ask his friends for advice.

Eijun stops bouncing his leg and moves his hands as he speaks, "Hypothetically, if someone's birthday was approaching and you were forced to—you wanted to buy them a gift, what would you give them?"

"Oh, so you're getting someone a gift?" Haruichi asks.

"This is a hypothetical situation!"

"Alright, alright, I'll depersonalize it. Hmm, I would surprise them with a…cake? I know it's not technically a gift."

Which is precisely why Eijun trashed Haruichi's idea when he thought of it prior. It wasn't original, and besides, Miyuki disliked sweet foods and would undoubtedly turn up his pompous nose if he dared present him with a cake. Eijun can see it now:

In a shoujo manga-esque setting with romantic blurred edges, Eijun giggles as he guides Miyuki into the cafeteria while covering his eyes with his hands.

"Where are you taking me, Sawamura?" Miyuki asks, "I can't see where I'm walking."

"No peeking, Miyuki-senpai!" Eijun says, "We're almost there…okay, here we are. Are you ready?"

"I don't know what to expect, but sure."

"Open your eyes!"

Miyuki removes Eijun's hands from his eyes. He looks down at the table before him and sees a circular birthday cake decorated with strawberries and lit candles. He looks at Eijun's toothy grin, then back at the cake.

"Did you bake this yourself?" he asks.

Eijun nods proudly.

"No wonder. I can literally feel the diabetes crawling through my blood just looking at that cake. No thanks."

Miyuki's grateful enough to blow out the candles. He thanks Eijun for his unsolicited ardor with a head pat and cartwheels out of the cafeteria.

Eijun smashes his figurative cake onto the ground—startling Furuya—and shakes his head.

"Not gonna work," he says, "Anything else?"

"How about a card?" Furuya suggests, "It's simple yet inexpensive. You can hypothetically personalize a message to them inside it, so it'll be special."

That was no good, either. Eijun already envisioned that idea and it ended miserably:

In another shoujo manga-esque setting, Eijun lowers his head as he extends a card out to Miyuki. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Happy birthday, Miyuki-senpai! Please accept my feelings!"

Miyuki turns around with a curious gaze. He takes the card and hardly reads through Eijun's chicken scratch before wobbling the card in the air.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Sawamura," he starts, "but…a card? What am I supposed to do with this? Pin it to my wall? Stuff it in a drawer? It's not practical. You've just wasted paper and that's not very environmentally friendly."

"Since when were you so conscious of the environment?!"

Eijun tears his figurative card to shreds and jumps up from his seat. He loved his friends dearly, but they were being utterly useless. He's better off weathering Tropical Storm Miyuki-Kazuya-Hates-Everything alone. He needs a breather and announces he's going to the bathroom.

"The bathroom on our floor isn't working, so you have to go to the sophomore floor," Haruichi says.

Eijun nods and exits the classroom. He returns to his pensive state as he walks down the hallway and skips up the stairs. He admits his imaginative scenarios about Miyuki were mildly, slightly hyperbolized, but this was Miyuki Kazuya he was talking about.

Who he suddenly realizes he knows nothing about.

Disregarding their surface-level baseball bond, Miyuki was an inscrutable presence in his life. His favorite food and color, preferred sleeping position, family life, if he even had a middle name; Eijun didn't have an inkling.

Miyuki seldom divulged "fun facts" about himself and only revealed what people needed to know, which was now coming back to bite him because if Eijun doesn't find a gift soon, they're both screwed.

"What would Miyuki-senpai like…" Eijun mumbles as he heads down the sophomore floor hallway, "Come on, think, think. There has to be something…"

"—that shit last night. Hyahaha!"

"Ah, I'm jealous. You're so lucky."

The familiar voices catch Eijun's attention. He creeps up to a classroom and drops into a crouch. He peeks through the ajar door and sees Miyuki and Kuramochi inside, having arrived early to their class.

'Maybe I can get some hints from listening in on their conversation,' Eijun thinks.

"Why're you jealous, bro?" Kuramochi asks.

Miyuki rubs the back of his neck and sighs, "I just haven't had bussy in a while."

Kuramochi visibly heaves and puts his hand over his mouth, "Oh, hell nah. Ain't no way you unironically call it that."

"I'm just saying it to annoy you, but I'm being serious. It's been ages and I can't stand it anymore. I really need some bussy. It's so good."

Eijun slowly tilts his head in confusion. The neurons are firing and his brain taps into every corner of its database, but comes up empty with the definition of this newfound word the duo keeps mentioning.

Eijun raises an inquisitive brow and whispers to himself.

"Bussy? What's that?"

"If you need some, then get some," Kuramochi says with a shrug. He leans against the wall and props his feet on the chair spindle, "It's not that hard to find."

"It is when you're not actively looking for it," Miyuki says, "School and baseball are eating me alive, so I don't even have time to scout it."

"Just let it come to you. With your looks, which I'm regrettably admitting you possess, it'll eventually fall into your lap—actually, no. Your awful personality is bussy-repellant. No one in their right mind would voluntarily give you some."

"Bussy-repellant is a phrase I never want to hear again. Don't call me that. Anyway, being my authentic self and being somewhat popular aren't mutually exclusive. I bet a significant percentage of the school population would give me some if I asked."

"Ha, I'd love to see you try. Do it."

"Nah, man…" Miyuki rests his cheek on his palm as he fondly thinks about a certain someone, "There's a specific source I want it from."

Kuramochi looks at Miyuki's softened features and a grin starts spreading on his face. He straightens his posture and wriggles his eyebrow, "Ooh, what's this? You have a candidate and you've been holding out on me? You better spill. Who's the source?"

Miyuki mirrors his grin with the addition of a finger on his lips, "So you can steal it? No thanks."

"I have a stable source of bussy which I enjoyed last night, unlike you, so stop being stingy and spill! I can be your wingman."

"Hmm, I conveniently can't see or hear you right now. Who are you again? What are you saying? What are we talking about?"

"Man, you're capping," Kuramochi clicks his tongue as he kicks Miyuki's shin underneath his desk. Miyuki laughs instead of reacting to the pain and Kuramochi kicks him again, "That attitude right there is proof why you get no bussy. Just resort to paying for it since you're desperate."

Miyuki jerks his head back at Kuramochi's offensive statement, "Whoa, I am not that desperate to pay for bussy. I have standards, alright? I will never settle for any old source. My candidate is kind of "unavailable" at the moment, but I'll get it soon. I'm optimistic."

"As optimistic as you were about yesterday's assignment?"

Miyuki flinches, "Huh?"

Kuramochi laughs as he grabs his bag and zips it open. He retrieves a textbook and some writing utensils, "I know you only got three questions wrong, but you were so confident that I feel slightly pitiful. Let's set aside your bussy burdens and revisit those topics before class starts."

As Miyuki leans sideways to grab his own bag, his line of sight is drawn to the door. He's barely able to distinguish the person behind it as they suddenly scurry away, leaving afterimages in their wake.

"What was that?" Miyuki asks, "Did you see that?"

"Nope," Kuramochi says without lifting his gaze, "Come on, let's get to it."

"I could've sworn I saw something…" Miyuki slowly takes out his book and flips to the same page Kuramochi's on.

'Is being deprived making me hallucinate?'

Bussy.

Okay, give Eijun a second.

The brain meats aren't brain meating. The math isn't mathing. Eijun downloads this perplexing, groundbreaking foreign concept and he's hellbent on deciphering the meaning and significance of this new word.

Right on the toilet.

He closes the stall door and locks it. He plops onto the cold toilet seat and hunches over. He rests his elbows on his knees, interlaced fingers beneath his mouth.

He visualizes a holographic screen on the door—he wouldn't have to visualize it had the robotic aliens not forsaken him—and computerizes his thorough analysis of it.

Bussy.

Spelling unknown. Origin unknown. In his fifteen years of life, he wasn't privy to this word. His family and close friends back home never uttered it, nor has he read it in any book. Granted he can count on the number of books he's read on two hands, but this word didn't appear common in literature.

Would the aliens know about this?

Perhaps it was his countryside upbringing that caused his lack of knowledge. Maybe "bussy" was a city word? A regional slang term he hadn't yet learned? No, that didn't make sense. He would have heard his teammates use it by now and they weren't that conniving to withhold saying it around him for the sole purpose of rendering him clueless.

Eijun reroutes his thought process. "Bussy" could possibly be a thing, an item. He recalls Miyuki and Kuramochi's conversation:

Miyuki rubs the back of his neck and sighs, "I just haven't had bussy in a while."

Kuramochi visibly heaves and puts his hand over his mouth, "Oh, hell nah. Ain't no way you unironically call it that."

"I'm just saying it to annoy you, but I'm being serious. It's been ages and I can't stand it anymore. I really need some bussy. It's so good."

Miyuki was longing for this mysterious item. Was it food? Something you could eat? What did it look like, taste like? Sweet, sour, salty, bitter? Eijun hums in enlightenment as he delves through a plethora of theories. He's almost figured this out, he knows it.

Unless it was again regional, Eijun's never heard of this dish called "bussy", but Miyuki was a relatively good cook. Why couldn't he whip it up himself if he missed it so much? Maybe the ingredients weren't easily sourced or the recipe was difficult to follow.

Kuramochi visibly heaves and puts his hand over his mouth, "Oh, hell nah. Ain't no way you unironically call it that."

Aha! Eijun's pieced another part of the puzzle. Kuramochi's reaction implied that "bussy" wasn't the common name for whatever food item this was. Sort of like Jun calling hot dogs "glizzys," but Eijun found that humorous. Why was Kuramochi disgusted?

Eijun labels that an inconsequential detail and will dwell on that later.

Perhaps "bussy" was a super limited edition food or snack that releases once a year and Miyuki missed the opportunity to obtain it. That would explain why he hadn't eaten it in a while and—no.

"If you need some, then get some," Kuramochi says with a shrug. He leans against the wall and props his feet on the chair spindle, "It's not that hard to find."

"It is when you're not actively looking for it," Miyuki says, "School and baseball are eating me alive, so I don't even have time to scout it."

Eijun shot too far ahead with that thread of thought. Kuramochi stated that it's not hard to find, so it wasn't a limited or ultra-rare food. It was obtainable, but a time-consuming find requiring savviness. Hence why Miyuki's responsibilities prevented him from seeking it.

Okay, something's not adding up here. How did Miyuki's looks factor into acquiring "bussy" and the phrases "let it come to you" and "give you/me some" are throwing Eijun's progress off course.

"Bussy" isn't a purchasable food, but an item that can be given? Giving food is plausible, but Miyuki and Kuramochi's conversation was starting to veer from the foodstuff theory.

Eijun abandons it and starts afresh. "Bussy" is an item that can be supplied, handed over. Cologne? Must be an extravagant and expensive brand. But "bussy" didn't sound extravagant or expensive. It needed an accent, and Eijun contemplates that Miyuki and Kuramochi were the ones pronouncing it wrong.

"It's similar to Gucci," Eijun thinks out loud, "Gucci is a super popular brand, but saying it how it's spelled isn't fancy enough. You gotta add a "-ay" at the end."

Eijun prepares his throat and enables an airy, whispery voice in a French accent, "Gucci? No, no. Gucchay. Gucchayyyy. Excusez moi, may I have a bottle of that new Eau de parfum by…" Eijun closes his eyes and flicks his hair with flair, "Gucchayyyyy?"

Eijun makes an enthusiastic noise and slaps his knee, a eureka moment.

Bussy? No, no. Bussayyyy.

Eijun envisions himself in a commercial. He's floating across the screen against a hazy purple city skyline backdrop. Wind fiercely blows his hair in wild directions as he caresses a glass bottle, seducing the camera with enticing facial expressions. He enlists his previous whispery French accent for the voiceover, the finishing touch.

"Bussayyyy, the new fragrance by Mura."

"Jeez, if Miyuki-senpai can ask for it, why won't someone just give him a bottle?" Eijun ponders in his normal voice, "Who would be that stingy over a few spritzes?"

"I have a stable source of bussy which I enjoyed last night, unlike you, so stop being stingy and spill! I can be your wingman."

Kuramochi was stingy, that's who. If he was in possession of an ample supply, why wouldn't he share his "bussy" with his own friend? He clearly knew where to get it, so sparing a bottle shouldn't trouble him. What a jerk.

"Nah, man…" Miyuki rests his cheek on his palm as he fondly thinks about a certain someone, "There's a specific source I want it from."

Miyuki mirrors his grin with the addition of a finger on his lips, "So you can steal it? No thanks."

Eijun groans as he feels his cologne theory slip away. He's just remembered that part of Miyuki and Kuramochi's dialogue, and a peculiar feeling brews in his stomach.

A "specific source" or "candidate" that could supply Miyuki with "bussy," but he hasn't been able to contact them. He was averse to Kuramochi stealing this source despite Kuramochi having his own. The clandestine nature in which Miyuki mentioned the existence of this source, so secretive he couldn't inform Kuramochi?

"That attitude right there is proof why you get no bussy. Just resort to paying for it since you're desperate."

Miyuki jerks his head back at Kuramochi's offensive statement, "Whoa, I am not that desperate to pay for bussy. I have standards, alright? I will never settle for any old source. My candidate is kind of "unavailable" at the moment, but I'll get it soon. I'm optimistic."

Horrified, Eijun inhales sharply and cups his hands over his mouth. He is one hundred percent certain about this theory. There was no deterring him.

"Bussy is…bussy is….the street term for drugs?! Miyuki-senpai wants DRUGS?!"

Miyuki was a crackhead all along and Eijun fucking knew it. No one could be born with a personality that rotten and be completely sober. Whether "bussy" was a performance enhancer, plain old booger sugar, or weed, Miyuki was on some type of illegal substance.

He's probably been caught with it and reprimanded in the past, clarifying why it's been ages since he had it. His "source" was "unavailable" because they got arrested, but they sold the best drugs and Miyuki wasn't willing to settle for less in his absence.

"Whoa, I am not that desperate to pay for bussy."

Miyuki didn't pay for his fix. He must have something valuable to exchange. No drug dealer worth their salt would sell their product for free, irrespective of Miyuki's attractiveness.

"What if…" Eijun gasps again, "what if the drug dealer is a member of a rival team? And Miyuki-senpai trades information about us so he could get drugs? He's ratting us out! But no, he wouldn't do that to us. He's loyal and works too hard to jeopardize our goal of reaching Nationals. Then again, I really don't know anything about him."

Eijun is distraught to realize that Kuramochi was an accomplice with his stable source of "bussy." He was so candid about it and resided in a state far beyond rehabilitation.

But Miyuki was still salvageable.

Eijun was going to guarantee Miyuki steered clear of taking any "bussy" on his birthday, and forever.

Miyuki whistles as he walks back to his room from the bathhouse. He dries his hair with a towel and holds his basket of toiletries in the crook of his arm.

Sawamura practiced with Chris that evening, and his absence made his heart grow fonder in anticipation of what Sawamura bought him. There were plentiful possibilities, so guessing his gift was a futile effort. The element of surprise heightens his curiosity and—

"Miyuki-senpai!"

Miyuki jolts from the deafening shout and he drops his basket. The element of surprise was Eijun himself, approaching with a hesitant gait.

Miyuki bends down to gather his items and stands back up. He lowers his eyes to Eijun's hands and raises a brow.

"Is there a reason why you've come empty-handed?" he asks, "Where's my present? I don't suppose it's small enough to fit in your pocket."

"I really need to talk to you about something," Eijun says, "I'm concerned about your well-being."

"I've only aged by a year; it's not like I need a cane…" Miyuki's voice trails off as Eijun steps forward and gently strokes his cheeks with his thumbs, his other fingers pressing the back of Miyuki's neck.

Eijun lifts his head and reveals an anguished face with glossy eyes and trembling lips and nostrils. He sniffs and sighs heavily.

"It's not too late," he whispers reassuringly, "You can be a better person. You don't have to live your life this way. There's more to life than being a crackhead."

Miyuki quirks both brows in bewilderment, "I-I'm sorry, what? Have you seen our team? We're all a bunch of crackheads; you're a crackhead too—"

"No, I'm not because I don't do drugs like you!"

The basket falls from Miyuki's hold again. Between his last contact with Eijun at midnight till now, just what the fuck happened to bring Eijun to this egregious conclusion? His sole task was to buy him a present; how could his mission go this awry?

Miyuki wraps his towel around his neck and pinches his thumb and index fingers together, "Sawamura, now I'm concerned about your well-being. Put me on a poster all around the city and call the cops because I am so lost. Who tricked you? I do not do drugs."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's bussy?"

"HUH?"

Eijun holds Miyuki's hands and shakes them pleadingly. However entrenched Miyuki was in denial, Eijun could lead him to the light and make him sane again.

"I was struggling to find a gift for you," he starts explaining, "and I heard you and Kuramochi-talking about something so I eavesdropped. You kept talking about this thing called bussy and I was so confused because I'd never heard of it before. At first, I thought it was this food you really wanted, but then I thought it was cologne, but that didn't make sense, either.

"I know what it is now, Miyuki-senpai, and you're not allowed to lie to me. I won't let you. You two kept mentioning "source" and "candidate," and what else do you source but drugs? Kuramochi has some, but he refuses to share, and your source is unavailable cause they went to jail, but that's a sign!

"You were fiending for it and it's ruining your life, but you can change! I won't give you bussy for your birthday or any other day, so please, quit while you can! The team will support you through detox and you won't be alone. We can overcome this together. Okay?"

Miyuki's jaw has dropped so low he can't even feel it. He just stands there, unresponsive to the absolute tragedy Eijun's spewed. A fly whizzing by wakes him up and his brain reboots before he snap backs to reality. He lets go of Eijun's hands and squeezes his shoulders.

"That's not what bussy means, Sawamura," he exhales.

"Liar!" Eijun exclaims, "Don't you gaslight me."

"No, like, I'm so serious right now. It's my fault for telling you to fire your neurons, but goddamn, you are so off. You're not even remotely close. It's actually shocking."

Blasphemous. Eijun can't be mistaken. He performed a throughout assessment of Miyuki and Kuramochi's conversation and bussy equating to drugs was his definitive answer.

"I don't believe you," he says, "What is it, then? Why wouldn't Kuramochi share? Why can't you get your hands on it? Why do you want it so badly? Tell me! What is bussy?"

"It's just short for boy pussy," Miyuki deadpans.

Eijun instinctively clenches his asscheeks, "Wh-What?"

Miyuki chuckles as a reddish hue dusts Eijun's face, "Yeah. It's just ass. Not a huge conspiracy. Kuramochi hates the word, but we use it jokingly. His source is Ryosuke-san, which is obviously why he can't share, and the reason I want some ass "so badly" is 'cause it feels great. That's it."

Eijun clenches his cheeks tighter and feels the tingle spread from his face to his ears, "So it's not drugs?"

"Nope."

"So you're not a crackhead?"

"Debatable depending on the context."

"So…who's your specific source that's unavailable?"

"Oh, they are very much available to me right now."

Eijun hears the Law & Order SVU's signature "dun dun" as Miyuki grins and drops his hand to his ass. He screams as Miyuki opens the door to his room and drags him inside, forgetting his scattered toiletries.

"You don't have to do this," Eijun implores, "Find another source; I'll just buy you a regular gift! What do you want?!"

"That ass. Now get in here."

Eijun screeches for the robotic aliens to give him a second chance and rescue him, but his appeal goes unanswered as Miyuki quickly closes the door and receives his long-awaited gift.

Two hours and a pleasantly sore ass later, Eijun wakes up and emerges from under the covers. He sits up on Miyuki's bed and turns his head to see Miyuki at his desk.

Eating something.

Eijun squints suspiciously, "What is that?"

Miyuki turns in his chair and pushes what he's chewing to one side of his mouth, "Oh, you're awake. Didn't mean to put you to sleep. This?" He points to the slice of cake in his hand, "Rei-chan baked me a little cake. She didn't add a lot of sugar, so it's pretty damn good."

Eijun spots a folded item on his desk and squints harder, "And what is that?"

Miyuki picks it up and wobbles it, "One of the manager girls, Yui, gave me a card. How thoughtful of her. I'm gonna read it then pin it on my wall."

Eijun clenches his fists as unbridled umbrage radiates throughout his entire body.

"Did you bake this yourself?" he asks.

Eijun nods proudly.

"No wonder. I can literally feel the diabetes crawling through my blood just looking at that cake. No thanks."

Miyuki turns around with a curious gaze. He takes the card and hardly reads through Eijun's chicken scratch before wobbling the card in the air.

Eijun should have known. Every time he thinks he's figured Miyuki out, Miyuki effortlessly overrode his brainwork and left him with blank pages to fill again. Oh, the irony. Oh, the embarrassment. Oh, fuck this guy.

Yeah, fuck this guy.

"YOU THINK THIS IS A FREAKING GAME?!"

Eijun leaps from the bed and lunges at Miyuki. He yanks him by the collar and lifts him off the ground, shaking him violently.

Miyuki chuckles nervously as the cake falls to the floor, "Whoa, whoa there. What game? What's wrong, Sawamura? There's still another slice of cake left if you—"

"You're scum! You're garbage, you're trash, you're nothing but a scammer! You made me give you some bussayyy when a cake and card would've sufficed?!"

"N-Not necessarily. I have higher standards for you. Anyone can give me a cake and card; your ass is one of a kind."

"I don't wanna hear it, you freak! You deceived me! Ya bastard, I'm gonna choke you to death!"

Elation dazzles Miyuki's eyes as Eijun's hands squeeze around his throat, "F-Finally. Harder!"

Meanwhile, Chris stands outside listening to Eijun's expletive tirade and Miyuki moaning to be choked harder, utterly stupefied.

"What on earth is going on in there?" he mutters.

Kuramochi passes by with his hands behind his head, "Sawamura let Miyuki hit for his birthday," he says, "I had a feeling Sawamura was his candidate."

"Sawamura didn't buy Miyuki a gift?"

"No? Not that I know of. Ass was all Miyuki wanted and he got it, so happy days. See ya in the morning."

Kuramochi walks away and Chris slowly pulls out his phone. He logs into his banking app and looks wistfully at the money he sent Eijun, and sighs.

'I kind of want those $15 back now…'

I hope y'all enjoyed this and had a laugh. Follow me on Twitter redpenkiller and Tumblr the-repenkiller for future Daiya fic uploads and retweets. See ya next time :3