Character: Oshitari, Shishido, Hyoutei
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: not mine, cool? cool.
Note: It was edited to sorta go with all japan, but I liked it more without those parts.
Time is the guy at the amusement park who paints shirts with an airbrush. He sprays out the color in a fine mist until it's just lonely particles floating in the air, waiting to be plastered in place... We're the paint in that analogy... Time is what disperses us.
- Ian Caldwell & Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four
For the first few years, they had frequent reunions. Every time they were back in town on vacation, someone would start a flurry of phone calls until they had gathered somewhere. Sometimes it would be at Atobe's house, chilling in his outdoor, Olympic-sized pool. Sometimes it would be at Shishido's house, playing with his impressive collection of video games. Sometimes, it would be at the tennis courts, laughing at how out of shape they had gotten.
They had been a group that had gone through everything together. They had seen Shishido's downfall and his climb back up. They had seen Atobe's victory over one of Japan's best tennis players, Tezuka Kunimitsu. They had seen his subsequent, heart wrenching defeat at the hands of Tezuka's protégé, Echizen Ryoma. Through it all, they had stuck together and had somehow become a real team among a school of piranhas. It wasn't too difficult to understand why they had all believed that they would never drift apart, right?
Nonetheless, even the most magnificent of Roman architecture crumbles one day - time would see to that. They fell victim to that ruthless predator as their meetings grew more and more infrequent. Most of them attended different colleges and made different friends. They were all in different majors, developed different interests, and simply became different people. Atobe, for one, didn't even live in Japan anymore - he'd transferred to a school in Greece midway through his college career.
Oshitari had gone to Osaka University to major in chemistry and loved it. The summer between his junior and senior years, he returned to Tokyo to gain some work experience at his father's hospital. He wasn't sure why, but that particular day, he just felt compelled to visit the grounds of Hyoutei - the school that consumed his existence for six years.
The school had changed a lot since his time there. It had been three years, after all, since they'd graduated high school. There was a new paint job over all the doors - instead of the puke green he had walked by everyday for the six years of junior and senior high, they were now a light shade of gray-blue, to match the school's colors. The weight rooms had been remodeled and refitted with new equipment, making it a much better place to work out in than it had once been. Eventually, he made his way towards the place he'd spent much of his junior high years, with those people.
Oshitari paused in front of the locked clubroom - he was certain it was different inside anyway, and wasn't particularly interested in seeing what it looked like now. He closed his eyes and could see every nook and cranny as clearly as if he were still there. There was Hiyoshi cursing at his broken locker, the one that only opened if you jiggled the handle just right. Jirou was sleeping sprawled out on his favorite bench, preventing the others from sitting down to change shoes or propping up their bags while putting away their uniforms.
A gentle breeze teased wisps of Oshitari's hair into his face, and he remembered Gakuto. They'd dated throughout most of junior and senior high, but had broken up no more than one month after starting college. Gakuto had been his first in everything - first doubles partner, first boyfriend, first kiss, first sex partner. He remembered stealing kisses from Gakuto on the courts between games and having sex with him in the clubroom after everyone else had left. They'd had sex everywhere, too - in the showers, on the benches, against the lockers, anywhere imaginable. They'd been teenage boys; it was expected. It wasn't like the rest of their team hadn't been all over each other as well.
He approached the tennis courts as the sun was starting to set behind the bleachers. It was just like it had been on that day, during his third year of junior high, when Sakaki Tarou - the man they'd called Kantoku - had come to inform them that they would play in the National Tournament after all.
Oshitari could almost see himself on the courts, with Gakuto in front of him and the Shishido-Ohtori pair on the opposite side of the net. They were pushing themselves to the limit, as a form of self-inflicted punishment for having lost to Seigaku at the Regional Tournament. Oshitari was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the other person moving up behind him until a hand rested on his shoulder. "Hey."
Oshitari started, shaking himself from the cobwebs of his memory and turning to look at the person who dared to intrude upon his solitude. "Shishido." The man before him wasn't the same person that he'd just seen in his recollections. The Shishido he remembered from junior high wore a blue cap to cover the horrible haircut he'd given himself. This Shishido still had short hair, but had a softer cut and didn't look like a train wreck.
"It sure brings back memories to be here, huh." Shishido took a few steps down the steps of the bleachers, sitting on one of the hard metal benches and pulling a knee to his chest. Oshitari moved to join him.
"Yea, sure does." If anyone had told Oshitari even just a year ago that he'd feel awkward being around Shishido Ryou, he would have laughed in their face. Not today. "So how's school been treating you?" Shishido was studying political science at Waseda University, and last Oshitari had heard, Shishido was having trouble deciding what to do in the future.
"It's been cool. I have two more classes and a thesis before I finish my major, so it's going to be a fairly smooth year." Shishido dropped his leg and leaned backwards until his elbows were resting on the floor of the row above them. He held out a finger, almost as if he were balancing his racket on it again. "What about you? What are you doing this summer?"
"I'm working at my dad's hospital. Pretty basic stuff - doing the busy work in the chem labs that they don't mind letting a college student do." Oshitari imitated Shishido's position, noting that his legs didn't stretch out much farther than Shishido's now. Once, he'd been noticeably taller than Shishido.
They were silent for awhile, each lost in his own memories, watching the shadows growing longer over the court as the sun set deeper behind them. The silence was comfortable - something that gave Oshitari hope that they could still be considered friends. Mere acquaintances would have called that awkward silence, right? Some time later, Shishido's stomach growled, calling their attention back to the real world. "Have you had dinner yet?" Shishido asked as they stood to leave.
"No, not yet. Do you want to get something?" Just because they hadn't had dinner together in over a year didn't mean that they couldn't do it now, right? Oshitari just hoped it wouldn't be awkward.
"Sure - do you have any particular place in mind?" Shishido looked back at him, and Oshitari suddenly became aware of how good-looking the man was. Shishido had always been a vain drama queen, but there certainly was a good reason for it - he was gorgeous. In particular, with the sunset silhouetting his body, almost making him glow, Shishido was, in a word, beautiful.
"How does American sound?" Brushing his wayward thoughts aside, Oshitari remembered how often Shishido had dragged one of them to McDonald's after practices way back when. Unless Shishido had changed a lot more in the past year than Oshitari had suspected, his favorite food should still be McDonald's cheeseburgers.
As expected, Shishido's face lit up. "Sounds good to me; want to go see if the McDonald's next to that billiards place is still around? As long as we're reminiscing, might as well max it, right?"
Oshitari laughed. Shishido was far too predictable for his own good, but it was refreshing. He was supposed to know Shishido like this. It was stranger to think that had any more time gone by, he might not know Shishido like this. They chatted about college and post-college plans as they made their way down the familiar path to the nearest McDonald's.
Even the McDonald's had changed since they used to frequent it. It had expanded and now had more seats than ever. "So you're going into the med labs after graduation then? No grad school?" They had just paid for their meals and were waiting for the clerk to grab all the components. As expected, Shishido got a cheeseburger meal. Oshitari just got a plain hamburger meal, because he didn't like American food much and wasn't very hungry anyway.
"Most likely; for a year or two, anyway. I might go into education at some point, but that's all up in the air right now." He picked up the tray with their food and followed Shishido to an empty table. For a summer evening, the restaurant was pretty full, mostly with what looked like high school students returning from cram school. Shishido nodded, as if pondering what Oshitari had said. As they sat down to eat their food, Oshitari suddenly flashed back to six years ago, when they had sat at that very table talking about the Kantou tournament and taking the title of National champions from Rikkai. They'd been so young then - Shishido hadn't been kicked off the Regulars yet and, in Oshitari's opinion, was the most annoying guy on the team. Oshitari couldn't stand arrogance, especially without the skill to back it up. Atobe at least delivered - Shishido didn't.
A lot had changed since then.
The Shishido sitting across from him now had dark brown eyes that held a story Oshitari knew to be more than what most people could handle. This Shishido was quieter and more reserved; he was a far cry from the attention-seeking boy he once was. Yet, he was doubtlessly attracting more attention than ever now. Oshitari had noted more than one head turning while they were walking together, and even after they'd sat down. To break the silence that had fallen over them as they started eating, Oshitari figured he might as well ask about the other Regulars they used to hang out with. "Say, do you know what's up with Ohtori these days?"
Shishido peered up at Oshitari, burger halfway in his open mouth. He put the burger down and Oshitari could see the energy seem to visibly drain from him. Shishido leaned back in his seat, as if pausing to study Oshitari's intent, before he answered. "Did you know we were dating?"
So the rumors had been true after all. "I'd heard gossip to that end, but if I remember correctly, they died out during high school."
"We broke up." If there was one thing that would never change about Shishido, it would have to be his penchant for being blunt. Oshitari wondered if Shishido ever noticed how many conversations he just stopped dead. "Choutarou decided that he preferred girls after all, and that was all there was to it." For a minute, Oshitari wondered at the use of Ohtori's first name after they broke up, but decided not to look too into it. They were probably still friends, after all.
Shishido blinked twice and took a sip of his tea, as if he could wipe and wash away the bad memories just like that. Had Oshitari looked away for a second, he would've missed the immediate transition on Shishido's face. In one frame, he looked pained, perhaps resentful. In the next, he was fine again, face gentle yet determined as usual. It was clear that he didn't want to talk any more about it, so Oshitari decided to not press the question. "How about you; weren't you going out with Gakuto?"
"Gakuto couldn't handle long distance." Oshitari shrugged as Shishido finished up his cheeseburger. He didn't think he had ever loved his bouncy partner much to start with; they had just been a couple out of convenience. They split when it wasn't convenient anymore, and neither was any the worse for it. Shishido and Ohtori had probably been different - even the people who didn't think they were dating had been certain that they were inseparable best friends. "Say, do you have anything to do after this?" There was no denying it - after looking around Hyoutei and coming to McDonald's, Oshitari was high on a nostalgia kick, and wanted to do something else that they used to do together as a group.
"No, not really; I just have to be up for work tomorrow at 8AM. What did you have in mind?" Shishido smoothed out the empty yellow wrapper, just like he used to, and folded it neatly into fourths - he had funny quirks like that.
"Want to shoot some pool?" He knew it'd been one of Shishido's favorite pastimes outside of tennis, and hoped that it still was. He didn't want to go home just yet. There wasn't really any reason; he just didn't want the evening to end yet. It wasn't that he didn't like the way his life was going, but sometimes, stopping to visit the past is OK. Therapeutic, even.
Shishido's eyes glinted and Oshitari caught a hint of a smirk on his face. "You still know me too well, Oshitari Yuushi. Let's go."
Of the three places they'd visited, the pool hall had changed the least. In fact, it hadn't changed at all. It was still divided into three sections - pool, ping-pong, and arcade - with a bar and equipment rental at one end. It was also still as dimly lit as ever. Best of all, it was still non-smoking, being one of the few places around that actively catered to the teenage generation as opposed to older people. They got their equipment and a timecard - even the price per hour was still the same. It was just as if they were still in high school.
"Heads or tails?" After racking up the balls and chalking their cue sticks, Shishido held out an 100 yen coin, ready to start the game the way they used to.
"Why don't you break; you know I'm bad at it anyway." They were just playing for fun; it didn't matter who started or who won, not to him, anyway. Shishido shrugged, pocketing his coin and leaning over the table, setting up his shot. Oshitari noticed that Shishido's form had changed - he stood straighter when lining up his shot and held his cue stick closer to his body. It was a more refined, mature form, suitable for the college students they were, now.
Clack.
Oshitari blinked, remnants of his daydream still lingering in his mind. "What's wrong, Yuushi?" Gakuto was on his tiptoes, right in front of Oshitari. "Hiyoshi scratched; it's your turn now. You better get something in this time!" He stared at Gakuto before looking up as his eyes focused on the pool table just behind the smaller boy. Sure enough, the rest of his teammates were standing there, waiting for him to move.
His grip tightened on the cue stick in his right hand as he straightened, sidestepping around Gakuto so as to avoid touching him, and walked to the table. Oshitari carefully studied the position of the balls. "Which ones am I aiming for again?"
"Striped," Shishido muttered, voice rough and slightly scratchy. Oshitari looked up to see Shishido looking at him from across the table. He was wearing the terribly unfashionable baseball cap over what Oshitari knew to be an equally awful haircut. He sunk the 14-ball, but the new position of the cue ball unfortunately left him with no clean shots to follow with. Instead of trying for some chance ball, Oshitari opted to use his move to position the ball where the next shooter would also have no clean shots.
After losing his turn, Oshitari stood back to watch Kabaji take up his stick and line up the 5-ball. His attention drifted around the room as he studied each of his teammates. Atobe stood almost protectively over Jirou, while Shishido and Ohtori were keeping a careful distance between them. Hiyoshi stood off to the side, by himself as usual, and Gakuto bounced all over the place. Oshitari wondered if perhaps they weren't really friends - maybe they were just people thrown together in an amorphous entity known as a team, nothing more, nothing less. It didn't seem like they had all that much in common outside of tennis, though perhaps just that was enough. Kabaji cleaned up the table within minutes, leaving only the striped balls of the other team standing.
"Why don't we call it a night." When Atobe spoke, it was always a statement, never a question. Atobe bent over Jirou, who had long ago fallen asleep on one of the chairs in the pool hall, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Get up. It's time to go home."
They parted at the door, each heading towards their own home. For now, they'd still say "see you," because they still saw each other everyday. That wouldn't last very much longer though - it couldn't last much longer. College would be upon them before they knew it, and one day, good-bye would really come.