Hyotei and the Happy Panda

Chapter 7: In which everyone deals with their avoidance issues

A/N: Much thanks to everyone for sticking with me. Microgirl rocks for beta-ing and for baking Nana Olaf's chocolate white chocolate chip cookies.

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"Shishido-san, is it okay if we talk?"
Shishido shifted in his seat, checking the security of his safety bar. To his dismay, it appeared to be working just fine. "Sure, but ... this ride's gonna drop any second, so we should probably wait for--"

"The ride isn't going to drop for another twenty minutes," Ohtori stated. "I asked them to hold it."

Shishido blinked. "Why would you do that?"

"Because every time I've tried to talk to you since the Fudomine match, you make up some excuse and run away."

"That's not true," Shishido said nervously. "I mean, we can't hang out so much now that I'm not on the regulars, but we talk. Yesterday, we were talking about those new shoes in that magazine. Damn dash wears mine down so fast, I have to keep blowing my allowance on new ones..."

"I know, Shishido-san, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk about yesterday."

"... because my tread is shot on this pair. I swear my mom's gonna kill me if I ask for another though..."

"I'm sure she'll understand, Shishido-san. But, what I was going to ask was--"

"...you really think so? Cuz after I bombed that bio test I'm not so sure. Hey how'd your English exam go?"
"I got an A, senpai." Ohtori had switched from "Shishido-san" to "senpai." That probably wasn't good. And Shishido was running out of ways to redirect the conversation. "Thank you for your help studying."

"Yeah, no problem. It was always kinda easy for me. Don't know what Atobe's problem is with it, though. He says he likes German better, now, but I think it's just because he can't control his accent in English. Honestly, that guy--"

"Shishido-san!"

"What?" Shishido pretended to be surprised by Ohtori's sudden snap. If he kept acting ignorant, maybe Ohtori would give up.

"Do you like me, Shishido-san?"

Crap. "Uh, sure... I mean..."

"Are you moving to another school?"

That one was unexpected. He answered warily, "Not that I'm aware of..."

Ohtori took a breath. "Are you straight?"

Shishido was suddenly glad of the safety bar that kept him from falling out of the car. That wasn't something people at Hyotei asked. I mean you guessed and hypothesized and snickered but you never actualy asked. And on the tennis team, most people made assumptions. The only person who might ... oh...

"You asked Taki, didn't you?"
Ohtori studied his shoes. "I wouldn't say 'asked,' but he told me ..."

At least Shishido could clear this up quickly. It'd even let him stall for some more time. "Last year Taki asked me out, and I turned him down. He assumes things to make himself feel better." Shishido couldn't help the snicker that escaped.

"Why did you turn him down?" Ohtori asked, his eyes still locked in all seriousness on Shishido. The older boy studied the grafitti on the bottom of the car. "KA heart MB" "Jun was here"-- some people had too much time on their hands.

"Because I don't really like him. Besides, I don't know where he's been."

Ohtori exhaled. "So then the only reason why you've been avoiding me is that you were dropped."

"I'm not avoiding you! It's just ... it'll be easier for you if we don't hang out so much anymore."

Ohtori nodded. "You're right."

Shishido wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected. Maybe some sort of valiantly chivalrous defense -- Ohtori always seemed the noble, self-sacrificing type. But agreement? That was ... strange. And extremely humbling.

Ohtori continued. "I want to play at Nationals this year, Shishido-san. And next year, I want to be captain. And I know that school politics won't let me unless I play by the rules. So I know I can't go out with someone who's been dropped."

That didn't hurt. Nope. Shishido was not going to act as if someone were twisting a knife in his sternum. "Yeah. Well, I'm glad you understand--"

"Which is why we should get you back on the regulars as soon as possible."

So maybe Ohtori hadn't learned as much about Hyotei as Shishido first thought. "People don't get back on the regulars, Ohtori. I appreciate the thought, but it just doesn't happen. It's never happened."

Ohtori smirked, an expression Shishido had never seen on him before. "Then we'll make history, Shishido-san."

"Sakaki-sensei won't let me back on. Hell, even if he did, I doubt Atobe would allow it." Shishido had put enough of a stain on Atobe's name for one year, and the buchou didn't forget when you failed him. Especially not when his slot had been given to Jirou.

"Not in your old singles spot, no," Ohtori said, "but he'd let you in if you played doubles."

Shishido felt as if the ride had already dropped out from under him. "Doubles. Ohtori, that's ... look I'm really crap at doubles."

"I could teach you, Shishido-san," Ohtori hurried. "We could keep practicing together."
"It won't work," Shishido stated, continuing to study the bottom of the car. Ohtori had to realize there wasn't a force on earth strong enough to to sate Atobe's pride when he felt offended. Maybe if Shishido wore a PoPo costume to school for a week...

"I can make it work," Ohtori said with that certainty possessed only by the incredibly naive and the incredibly cunning. Shishido was still working out which group Ohtori belonged in. Maybe both. "Shishido-san, I can get you back on the regulars. And when I do... will you go on a date with me?"

For a second, Shishido felt as though his stomach had just dropped five stories. And then he realized it was because his stomach --and the rest of him-- was currently in the process of dropping five stories.

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Normally, Atobe considered himself fairly skilled at determining when Jirou was faking narcolepsy and when he was genuinely too bored to stay awake. However, at the moment his perceptive skills were being hampered by his inability to move a single muscle in his body. He couldn't look down without being reminded of the ground. He couldn't look up without remembering how high the top looked from the ground. He couldn't shut his eyes without imagining himself much higher.

The only solution was to look at Jirou.

Jirou appeared to be sleeping peacefully, completely unconcerned with the force of gravity. Atobe did realize that it was more likely Jirou could sleep because he knew this damn ride was a set up. The thought was oddly comforting, since it meant Atobe would be getting down alive and able to exact retribution on the party responsible.

That thought calmed him down a little. His heart rate hadn't returned to normal, but at least he no longer felt in danger of passing out from hyperventilating. He tried to move his eyes away, but found they were quite content watching a few wisps of hair dance next to the corner of Jirou's lips. This, of course, only served to remind him of how those lips had felt pressed against his -- a sensation which was a little hazy in his mind. It made Atobe want to refresh the memory by trying it again, which was not an option.

Damn Jirou. He'd been like this for as long as Atobe had known him. Jirou didn't believe in being afraid -- of heights or anything else. If something made Jirou feel anxious, he had two solutions: sleep until the problem went away or leap in and attack until Jirou's anxiety went away.

Jirou had demonstrated the principle quite clearly in second grade when some bullies had picked on him for being afraid of a spider that crawled up the drinking fountain. Jirou convinced his parents to buy him a pet tarantula, whom he named Gilbert and snuck into school the next day. Of course, even then Jirou was clumsy and tripped in the cafeteria, "accidentally" spilling the poor creature onto the lead bully's lunch tray. None of the teachers blamed Jirou for the incident. They never did. He hadn't served a day of detention in his life.

And now Jirou had to go and push Atobe to follow the same strategy. Atobe's afraid of heights? Strap him onto a roller coaster. Atobe's afraid of dating a teammate? Kiss him in public. Jirou just didn't understand that the methodology was instrinsically flawed. And Atobe didn't understand Jirou. At all. Ever.

He didn't understand how Jirou could sleep through every practice and still be selected over Atobe to join the Newcomer's Tournament. He didn't understand how Jirou dealt with people laughing at him every game, even if it did throw the opponent off. He didn't understand how Jirou could risk every bone in his body with his ridiculous volleys, lose a match, and still be content. More than content. Be ecstatic.

And most of all he didn't understand how Jirou could risk his entire inheritance for one stolen kiss.

Jirou shifted, apparently annoyed by his inability to move his shoulders. One arm struggled to break free, only succeeding in brushing a hand over Atobe's knee. Sleeping, of course. Still, removing the hand would require Atobe to let go of one of the safety handles, which he couldn't do --which Jirou knew he couldn't do. And that was the only reason he wasn't removing the hand.

It was about then that Atobe realized he'd spent at least ten minutes thinking about and being frustrated with Jirou instead of remembering the unforgiving concrete below him. The only irregulariy in his breathing were occasional irritated huffs. His heart now only accelerated when Jirou's hand occasionally twitched its way further up Atobe's thigh. Once again, Jirou had snuck in a victory under Atobe's nose.

If he were able, he probably would have stormed off at Jirou's audacity and outright manipulation. As it was, he was forced to stay seated and contemplate the idea that the ride wasn't really so frightening once he was on it.

And then the click of the release mechanism sounded above him, and Atobe changed his mind.

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The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary

1. Whisper, the initials are for you and the crackdom you got me hooked on. If other readers can't figure them out, think Rikkai thoughts. Not too much though, cuz that can't be healthy.

2. The EllipsesBandit... was once a tarantula wrangler for children's birthday parties. Tarantulas are cute and harmless. Microgirl, his name is for you.

3. Anybody who has heard Keigo's newish single Charm Point will understand why I'm having him enjoy German. I don't know why he's counting in German on the song. I just think it sounds cool. Ein! Zwei! Ein Zwei Drei Fir! (forgive mis-spellings, the EllipsesBandit... never took German)