Kuramochi's eyes sweep over the girl on the television screen, from her sunset hair to her moonlit smile, from the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes to the way she curls her toes and sways on the balls of her feet. She is beautiful—there's just no denying it—and he has to wonder what went wrong with the world that a fine specimen of the female species like her ended up falling for someone like Sawamura Eijun.
"So that's Wakana, huh?"
"Yeah. She and my other friends made this video since they couldn't cheer for me in person. These guys—"Sawamura's voice cracks and, for a second, it looks as though he's fighting back tears. "You ever miss your middle school friends, Senpai?"
"Course I do, Bakamura. Do you even need to ask?"
"Don't call me Bakamura." His retort lacks its usual energy and there's a sad, longing smile on his face as he stares at the screen.
Kuramochi's eyes travel back to the video, where all of Sawamura's friends have gathered in the middle of a park, each one holding a placard with a single letter on it, collectively spelling out "We miss you, Ei-chan." A large, pink heart punctuates the statement, held up by none other than Wakana. It couldn't just be a coincidence, Kuramochi thinks, but Sawamura's too much of an idiot to pick up on hints like that. He feels sorry for her, and it's almost painful to watch the way she smiles at the camera. Don't waste your smile on him, he tells her in his mind, Bakamura doesn't get it.
The video ends and whatever force was keeping Sawamura's emotions in check finally gives out. It's not a pretty sight—he's a blubbering mess when he cries, tears and snot running down his face, his voice reduced to a loud whimpering like a kick puppy's.
"What're you crying about, Bakamura?"
"Nothing."
"Far as I know, people don't just cry for no reason."
"I just—I feel like I betrayed them. We were supposed to go the same school, play in the same baseball team, go to Koshien together…"
He really is an idiot, Kuramochi thinks. His idea of betrayal is so naïve it's almost funny. But it's also so earnest that laughing at him will just make you look like a heartless bastard. Kuramochi has a heart—sure, he constantly calls the little bugger condescending nicknames and inflicts varying degrees of pain on his body, but Kuramochi Youichi has a heart, goddammit!
"What the—Senpai?"
"Shut up and keep crying." Kuramochi has eased himself behind Sawamura, wrapping his arms around the freshman's body, resting his chin on the crook of his collarbone. There's an unsettling moment, at least for Kuramochi, where he considers how well their bodies fit together. "This is the newest wrestling move I've learned." He knows it's a hug and no stupid excuse is going to change that fact but he has to keep some of his pride intact.
"It doesn't really hurt, though."
"I still need to practice it some more, so shut your trap."
Kuramochi doesn't miss the way Sawamura's eyes gravitate toward him and how the ends of the younger boy's lips curl up in a small, smug grin, all while tears continue to stream down the sides of his face. Kuramochi laughs a little, his breath on Sawamura's skin making the latter flinch. How can this kid cry and make fun of him at the same time?
"On second thought, save your tears. We're playing Street Fighter after this and you're gonna cry ten times harder when I beat the crap out of you."