September, 2011

"Apologize."

Kageyama didn't say anything, merely holding the ball in front of his chest, like that would deter Kindaichi from punching him in the face. But Kindaichi didn't, simply grabbing Kageyama by the collar and shaking him. It didn't do much—Kageyama wasn't an easy person to move.

And Kunimi found himself despising him for it. Did he feel nothing? Did he feel nothing, knowing that a wave of his hand had brought down an endless amount of humiliation and trauma upon him?

"I said apologize, you bastard!" Kindaichi screamed at his face, shaking him harder.

Kageyama lifted a hand and pushed Kindaichi away. "No. I have nothing to be sorry for."

Kindaichi punched him.

They were in the gym, the other third years—and some second and first years—forming a loose, but protective shield around Kunimi, as if preparing to throw themselves in the line of fire if Kageyama decided to suddenly snap. The newer members of the boy's volleyball team were milling about awkwardly, asking one another anxiously if it was worth summoning the coach over this.

Not that the coach would do much, anyway—he was a firm believer of tough love. One which extended to allowing the students to self-govern their social environment and let natural hierarchies form. "They'll never learn how society works, otherwise," Kunimi often heard him saying. "School is like an aquarium. One day, they're all going to be released in the ocean. They need to learn how to swim on their own."

While Kunimi had several things to pick with his philosophy, now was not the time. "Don't," he said harshly, stopping the young students in their tracks. "Don't get coach."

One of them gulped. "O-okay."

"You made the chat about me, right?" Kageyama asked, unblinking as he cradled his sore face.

Kindaichi snarled, ready to swing again. "I didn't, but who gives a damn about that?! Apologize to Kunimi right now, and stop fucking pretending to be cool!"

When Kageyama finally snapped, Kunimi could feel ice enveloping the room. "Why?! Why should I?! I didn't do anything wrong!"

There was a deep pain in his voice, one that carried over the chill that had settled in the gym. But Kunimi barely heard it, too wrapped up in his own grief.

He turned away.


August 18th, 2021

He awoke to the alarm clock beeping. Kunimi felt around on the nightstand before turning it off. Yawning, he rolled out of bed, his blanket twisting around his legs as he slumped on the carpet. The distance was short.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

Kunimi rolled his eyes up to see his roommate, Coda Einosuke, standing over him with a plate of something that smelled wonderful. He took a long sniff. "Bacon from the deli?"

"Bacon from the deli," Coda confirmed.

"Good. I hate the supermarket stuff."

"Same, brother."

"Glad you're back. How was the trip?"

Coda helped Kunimi up, carefully balancing the plate of bacon and eggs with his other hand. "Pretty good," he answered, and proceeded to talk about his latest business trip over breakfast. He was the personal secretary of the chairman of one of the country's most prolific conglomerate—HNN Foundation. They had their finger in every pie in Japan. "We're in the middle of signing a deal with one of China's billionaires," he concluded after a long ramble. Coda talked a lot.

He was a year older than Kunimi, but they had gone to the same middle school—Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High. Kunimi didn't remember him much from back then, however—he'd just been another face in the crowd. It was only after many years that they had found each other again in university.

Now, Coda was examining him across the dining table, brow creased in concern. "Hey, Kunimi, is something wrong? You look a little tired."

"I'm always tired."

"Yeah, but you usually don't look it." Coda pointed to his own face. "You have bags around your eyes."

Kunimi looked around for a mirror, but found none. He settled for his phone camera. "Huh. I guess I do."

"So, what's up?"

"Don't you have Hirakawa Daizen's ass to wipe?"

"Nope." Coda beamed. "The chairman was kind enough to give me a paid leave. The venture was successful and we're on top of everything right now. And if he needs something, I'm just a phone call away. I'm all yours, Kunimi, so stop dodging the question and answer your senpai."

He scrunched his nose up. "Ugh, you're so gross."

"I made you breakfast."

Fair. Kunimi sighed. "It's... lame. Not the breakfast, but..."

"It doesn't matter!" Coda proclaimed, and Kunimi raised an eyebrow. Coda shared several similarities with Oikawa appearance-wise—in fact, Kunimi remembered him being highly desirable among the ladies back in middle school; they'd referred to him, embarrassingly, as a dark-haired prince. But the most jarring thing was, to him, that he was almost nothing like Oikawa. There was... something very genuine about the man in front of him. "Sharing your burdens with someone else is sure to alleviate the stress!"

"I know that. Have you forgotten what I do? It's textbook."

"Sheesh, alright, alright. But tell me anyway."

"Well... do you remember middle school?"

"Eh?" Coda blinked, clearly not having expected the conversation to turn in this direction. "Well, it's been a while, but I guess I do. Most of it's a blur, but I remember some things."

"You were in the kendo club, right?"

"Correct."

"Mm..." Kunimi looked down at the half-eaten bacon on his plate. "Then you wouldn't know... And you graduated before us, so..."

"Doesn't matter," Coda said again. "Just fill me in on the deets."

Kunimi clicked his tongue, stalling. "It was ten years ago." Yet, I remember it as clear as day.

"Gosh!" Coda huffed. "I told you to stop dodging, already!"

"Okay, okay. Do you remember a kid named Kageyama?"

"Kageyama? There were a couple in my year, so you'll have to be specific."

"He was in my year," Kunimi told him before he could start listing them out. Coda could be long-winded. "His name was Kageyama Tobio."

"Oh!" Recognition lit up in his eyes. "I kinda remember him. Chubby cheeks, right?"

Kageyama had lost all of the baby fat on his face by late-second year, but Coda technically wasn't wrong. "Uh, yeah. Chubby cheeks." He'd looked so innocent back then. Something oily coiled in Kunimi's gut, and he shifted uncomfortably, clasping his hands together. "We were on the same team."

"I see, I see." Coda nodded, strangely immersed. Did he really care that much about Kunimi's troubles? He really was too kind. "What about him?"

Yes, what about him? Why did Kageyama, after ten long years, come back to haunt him? If he closed his eyes, Kunimi could see the incident play out in front of him. Again, and again and again. What should I even tell him? That he's dead? That maybe I... I might have... Have you ever killed a man, Coda? The final thought almost left through his lips. "What do you remember about him?" he asked in the end, hoping that Coda revealing more about his opinion on Kageyama would help set the stage more. Would help Kunimi know what to say and how to say it. "Besides his chubby cheeks."

"Not much, I'm afraid," Coda said. "Only that he had a hot sister. I saw her once. She came to pick him up after club."

Right. His sister. Kunimi hadn't even known about her until recently. But Coda knew? He didn't know why, but it hurt. It hurt so bad. "After club? Kageyama always stayed late." Which was why he had never met this mysterious sister of his. "What were you doing at school?"

"Practicing, duh."

Kunimi frowned. "Practicing...?"

"You gotta understand, Kunimi," Coda said, quite seriously. "Kendo was my everything back then. It was something that was a huge part of me. Even now, I look back fondly on those days. I spent almost every day practicing until late with a few seniors, and later juniors. It was... It was something that I really, really loved. Honestly," he chuckled, "if someone told me to quit staying back so damn late, I would've exploded at them. That was how much I loved it."

"Oh."

The rock which had slowly been growing into the size of a boulder in his stomach turned to ice. Numbly, Kunimi finished off his last strip of bacon. It didn't taste nearly as good cold, and the taste of grease was gross on his tongue.

"Hey," Coda said, gently. "Did I say something wrong? That last part was probably too weird, huh?"

No, you didn't. He shook his head. "You were passionate," the words were thick in his mouth, "and... there's nothing wrong with that."

Almost shyly, Coda rubbed his nose. "Ya think? I doubted myself a lot in high school. Some people find passion scary. Because they don't understand how it feels to have something mean so much to you."

"I... I see."

Coda's phone started to beep—a reminder set to go off at a specific time. "Oh! I promised my girlfriend that I'd meet her for lunch. She lives an hour away, so I should probably get going. Do the dishes before you go to work, m'kay?"

"Wow."

"Hey, it's only fair. I did make breakfast."

Kunimi snorted. "Stop saying it like it's a magnificent feat."

"Yeah, yeah. See you later, Kunimi."


August 12th, 2021

"Heyy! If it isn't Kindaichi and Kunimi!"

Kindaichi smiled and waved. "Hey, everyone!"

The ten year reunion for the class of 2011 was not something Kunimi had particularly been looking forward to, but he'd promised Kindaichi that he would accompany him tonight. He echoed Kindaichi's greetings, finding a spot at the long table. They'd already gotten started, some people grilling meat and onion on the grills.

A lot of people had gotten fat, Kunimi noted. Especially the men.

Kindaichi did most of the talking, as he tended to do, while Kunimi scrolled through his social media feed on his phone. But a few former members of the boy's volleyball team drew him into conversation, and Kunimi had no choice but to put his phone away.

"So," he drawled, "You lot have grown into a fat bunch."

They flushed. Not all of them had let themselves go, but enough of them.

"That's not fair how you get to keep your figure," one of them complained. "You did the least moving around back then!"

"Yes, yes." 'Back then' this and 'back then' that. I'm already sick of it. Middle school had been horribly unpleasant for Kunimi, especially in his third year, but now they were all laid-back and relaxed. Most of them hadn't even apologized. Not that this bunch had anything to do with it—they'd been on his side—and Kunimi felt guilty for thinking ill of them. They were just trying to be nice. It just irked him how easy people seemed to forget things—things that had pained Kunimi so much. Even Kindaichi hadn't ever thought that, maybe, Kunimi had never completely moved on from the past. As much as he wanted to, of course. Kunimi was not fond of looking back—he much preferred to look forward.

But it still anchored him down.

The night could've passed peacefully, had the fates been on his side.

Unfortunately, Kunimi had been stupid to think that being at any social event with Shiroma Yubin, former gossip queen and mean girl, could've spelled out anything other than trouble.

"Kageyama's dead." Shiroma dropped the bomb without even batting an eyelash just as things were starting to wind down. Kunimi stood, rooted to the ground, as the others standing in their little circle—comprised of him, Shiroma, Kindaichi, and Taniguchi and Ueda—opened and closed their mouths like koi fish.

Dead?

Kageyama... was dead?

The floor gave way beneath him. Kunimi almost let himself fall. Suddenly, the food he had indulged in just two hours earlier felt rotten in his stomach.

Kindaichi laughed. It cracked. "You're kidding... You're kidding, right? Why would he...?"

Kunimi's knees buckled, and he nearly fell against the table. Between the alcohol and the morbid news, it was dizzying.

"I thought you would've known," said Shiroma, and it was almost like it was meant for Kunimi, even though she wasn't looking at him. There was something condemning in her voice, lurking beneath a layer of calm and poise. Sharpness that she had honed since middle school. "I guess I was wrong."

Why is this happening?

Kunimi's throat bobbed.

Was this what they called karma?