Chapter Two

With a pencil between his teeth, Makoto stared at the notepad in front of him with all the hastily crossed out lines, his brows knitted in concentration as he looked at all his previous attempts to articulate his thoughts. He was sat on the floor of the bathroom of the small apartment he shared with Haruka who was currently in the bath. He'd asked for some help regarding writing his submission for Tracks' Rush Hour Crush page and Haru had agreed. But then he'd discovered that Haru intended to have this conversation while he was in the bathtub. Least for some reason the guy sat in the tub wearing swimming shorts, tight and black and with purple stripes. A reason that Makoto couldn't figure out. He guess he'd take it as a plus as then he didn't have to sit and look at his naked roommate.

He'd realised that he'd been biting down on his pencil so hard he had bits of it stuck between his teeth and he removed it and spat those bits out as he looked back at the issue of Tracks he'd left on the floor.

The Rush Hour Crush page was one that usually Makoto never bothered with. But then Tracks was something he rarely picked up anyway. It was a free cheap thing and usually they were left on the train after someone read it. But occasionally, he did whether he was running late or far too early so it wasn't entirely unusual.

He was aware of the Rush Hour Crush page – it was where people said that they had a crush on someone they saw usually on their commute to work. He guessed a lonely hearts for those who spent their lives rushing between home and work all the damn time. Or like Makoto – studying, working and then falling into bed exhausted.

"This one says – 'I smiled at you while you looked at your iPhone. You had red hair and a cute panda hoodie. I think you gave me a wink. Let's do coffee. Mr. Red Hair and Tall, Black Hoodie.'" Makoto sighed as he looked at it, furrowing his brow. "It sounds lame."

Haruka, who was currently mostly submerged in the water, peeked his head over the side of the tub to look at Makoto's pad of paper and the magazine in turn. "It is lame. But you want to do it this way."

The response was blunt but true. It was a lame way to do this but then Makoto didn't have a better idea. It was doubtful he'd be on that particular train at that particular time again and so he'd never see tall, dark and tattooed. And while it was so unlikely that the guy would read that particular issue of Tracks and see Makoto's message, he had winked at him and Makoto took that as a hopeful sign. He had to have some optimism otherwise he had to give up and leave it as one chance encounter where he checked out a hot guy and leave it at that. Makoto wasn't the kind of guy to give up, always striving to achieve and get out of him small town, wanting to expand his horizons and pursue his career in education. So this was another thing he wasn't just going to quit. Not right away.

"I know its lame… but… this guy was…" Makoto said and he saw Haru slide back down further into the water as if to ignore him. "You're not helping, you know."

He waited for a blunt response again but Haru instead stood up and got himself out of the bath, not bothering to towel dry and letting the water drip on the floor as he stood on the tile. He walked over to grab a blue towel, wrapping it around his neck and turned to look at Makoto.

"Just say what you mean. Say you liked him. Be truthful."

With the advice and a flick of hair, Haru left the bathroom, Makoto still sat on the floor staring at his pad and then he bit at the pencil one more time, regretting it immediately as he tasted bits of wood that had got stuck between him teeth and he began to write something, his own loopy handwriting large on the page until he finally found the mix of words that didn't sound too stupid and desperate.

Not realising the time, Makoto finally had the message and he grabbed for his phone to type it in and submit. But seeing the time made him realise he was now running late to get to his job at the karaoke bar and he sword softly under his breath as he was forced to run around the apartment to try and get ready on time. Hastily Makoto stripped off his normal clothes and hopped out of jeans, seeing Haru's eyes narrow at his ridiculous behaviour as he stumbled his way to his own room wearing only boxer briefs. He scrambled around on the floor for his work uniform, finding it among the pile of clothes he'd not washed and pulled it on without falling over, scowling at himself for getting distracted and forgetting to check the time. The guy had only smiled at him and Makoto was a mess.

"Get a grip, Tachibana," he said to himself as he looked at himself in the mirror, pushing aside his hair to the side and putting on his glasses, scanning to see that he looked presentable and his uniform was not the mess he expected it was. It was a little crumpled but he didn't care as he bolted out of the apartment, waving in Haru's direction as he stood frying fish in nothing but a swimsuit and an apron. A few weeks ago that would've seemed odd. But right now it didn't.

As he ran through the streets, getting once again to the metro and travelling to his designated stop, Makoto flicked on his phone and thought about his message, scanning the carriage of the train hopefully even though he knew the likelihood of seeing tall, dark and tattooed was severely limited. Seeing he wasn't there, Makoto typed the message into his phone carefully, still mulling over his choice of words and remembering all the other messages he'd seen in Tracks and how they all sounded a little crazy and desperate. He hoped his didn't too desperate as he finished it, noting he was nearly at his stop and hopping off the train to get to the karaoke bar, hoping that the manager of the place wasn't in yet to get angry at his late arrival.

Thankfully, he wasn't as he quickly got behind the bar, his work colleague Nagisa giving him a curious glance at his timing. Makoto wasn't usually like this – yeah, he ran late occasionally when his classes overran but this was being flustered because of one guy he'd seen once. He had to stop acting like a love-sick teenager with a crush.

He knew he looked flustered, sweaty, his hair at odd angles and he knew Nagisa was looking at him with curiosity but soon some patrons were demanding drinks which made his inquisitive eyes stop looking at Makoto and instead focus on the steady stream of people getting drunk so they had the guts to perform.

Penguin Karaoke Club had private rooms that had to be booked ahead of time, big groups of friends clustering around the system and ordering drinks to be delivered to the room and then there was the stage where the more confident singers would perform in front of a drunken crowd. Even though Makoto had a good voice, knew he did from the shower, he had never actually sung at his place of work, always denying to his colleagues he could sing. A few he'd seen get up and perform during slow nights to encourage other people to join in, Nagisa especially who dragged up a tall guy with glasses that always seemed reluctant to partake in a duet until they were on stage, but Makoto never did.

Even on slow nights, even when he was bored alternating between making cocktails at the bar and delivering them to the private rooms, Makoto didn't join in and wasn't ever intending to. No matter how many times Nagisa tried to persuade him otherwise.

It was relief that this particular evening was busy, drinks ordered, songs sung and Makoto had almost begun to forget about his message and hisRush Hour Crush – Mr. Tall Dark and Tattooed had faded from his mind. Until he got his break, grabbing a cold glass of water and looking at his hastily typed email to send to Tracks. He scowled at it, trying to get up the nerve to send but knew he could do no better. And he'd miss the deadline for the next day's edition, no point in stalling it more. Sighing, reading it one more time, he plucked up the courage to press the "send" button, his thumb pausing over it before hands on his shoulders made him jerk forward and press it, unintentionally.

"Whatcha doing, Makoto?"

Turning round, he saw Nagisa's face far too close, his eyes and smile wide as he "locked" his phone as quickly as he could.

"Nothing," he responded, his arms flailing and cheeks warm.

"You seem flustered for nothing," he teased, smiling broadly.

Nagisa was notoriously persistent and so Makoto knew he would lose against him so putting his phone away and running a hand through his hair, Makoto then took a sip of water.

"I met this… guy," he said after finishing his drink, knowing full well his break was nearly over.

"Ohh -" Nagisa started and then asked a flurry of questions regarding his height, his weight, his physique, his eye colour, his star sign, where he came from….Makoto had to nearly shake him to stop the barrage of questions.

"We didn't talk exactly…" Makoto said to which Nagisa blinked, a confused expression on his face. "I saw him on the metro and…"

"Rush Hour Crush!"

Makoto nodded to the shout that almost deafened. "I've sent one in…"

"Lemme see!"

And with his usual flair for ignoring personal space, Nagisa grabbed for Makoto's phone in his pocket, Makoto managing to prise it off him and put it high above his head, effectively out of Nagisa's reach.

"I'll read it out," Makoto said now Nagisa had stopped flailing and attempting to reach for it. He unlocked his phone with a swipe of his thumb and then opened the email – seeing that an immediate response from Tracks was in his inbox.

He opened it, ignoring Nagisa's attempts to bob up and down and read over his shoulder, and he saw an automated email confirming it had been received and would be reviewed by the Rush Hour Crush team.

Now he'd seen that response, Makoto opened his sent email and looked hard at Nagisa before he started to read. "Don't mock me, okay?"

"Promise."

"You were tall dark and tattooed. I was late for my train, flustered in my check shirt and glasses. Our eyes met as you left the train. I'd like to see you again but I don't plan on running late. Please get in touch. Mr. Green Eyes and Glasses."

Nagisa made a heavy sigh after Makoto had finished. "It's like a romantic movie! I hope he gets in touch…"

Makoto was going to say he agreed when they were called back to duty, Makoto picking up his glass to be washed and returning to his spot mixing cocktails. Nagisa kept glancing at him throughout the night, flashing him smiles and Makoto tried not to think about it too much as it was a long shot – a very long shot but he hoped Mr. Tall Dark and Tattooed would be in touch. He really did.