At 7:53am on Wednesday morning, Omi arrived at the foyer of the dormitory hall and saw Nakajima standing there, also apparently about to head out. The senior was wearing a deep blue suit that made him look even more serious than usual, and standing talking with Shinomiya near the front door. As Omi approached the pair, he saw Shinomiya hand the Vice President a small blue gift bag before bowing and leaving the hall.
"Good morning, Nakajima-senpai," Omi said politely as he neared and the senior glanced at him.
The older boy looked him up and down briefly, taking in Omi's neat casual attire of black wind jacket and corduroy pants, tutted, and then turned to leave the hall and head towards the front gates of the academy. Omi followed a few steps behind, feeling humiliated once again, but determined not to show it. There was nothing wrong with how he had dressed. Kaoru approved most of his outfits, including this one, and Kaoru frequented the same echelon of snobbery as Nakajima. As he followed behind the older boy, he realised that his motions echoed how he sometimes followed behind Kaoru-kun, only his relationship with his best friend was completely different to how Nakajima treated him.
It's almost as if he really thinks I am a dog, not a person.
The taxi was waiting for them when they arrived. To Omi's surprise, Nakajima opened one of the back doors for him, closed the door after Omi was seated, and then went around the car to take the seat beside him.
"Have you had breakfast?" Nakajima asked curtly, once they were both shut in the vehicle.
"Yes."
Nakajima looked at the back of the driver's head. "AI Hospital," he requested. As the car began to move, the senior sat back and fumbled a little with the twisted seat belt. Omi watched him fasten it. It was strange sitting so close to the older boy. From here, he could smell him. A mixture of a subtle deodorant, smoke, soap, and fresh perspiration, provoked probably by the senior's morning karate. Additionally, there was a smell that was uniquely Nakajima, wonderful in Omi's opinion, and probably in many people's opinion given Nakajima's many lovers. Omi looked away and focussed on thinking about pacemakers to distract himself from thoughts of burying his nose against his worst enemy.
The drive was about half an hour and Nakajima didn't talk to him again during the journey. When they arrived, Omi was out of the car before the senior could come around and open his door. Quietly, he followed the Third Year into the hospital, into a lift, down a few long winding corridors, and into an office.
A female receptionist greeted them both, identifying Nakajima by name, and - when introduced to Omi by Nakajima - smiling and repeating Omi's name with glazed eyes that predicted that his name would be swiftly forgotten, perhaps before he even left the woman's sight. She took their bags for safe-keeping, including the gift bag that Nakajima had been carrying with him.
They were then introduced to a few researchers who had agreed to help them with their project. Unlike Nakajima, Omi didn't know any of them, but he did his best to remember their names and job titles and to keep up when the researchers embarked on giving them a personal tour of the facility.
After the tour came a brief recess, catered for by the facility. Then there were presentations: an introduction to heart failure in children, indications for pacemakers, pacemaker types. Omi took notes feverishly, unlike Nakajima, who he noticed only occasionally made a notation in the small pocket book that he brought with him. This lack of note-taking on Nakajima's part didn't particularly surprise Omi. He still remembered seeing Nakajima's score from when he hacked into Bell Liberty Academy's platinum paper results two years ago. Nakajima Hideaki had done more than successfully pass a platinum paper. He had damn near destroyed the paper's parameters. It was only after seeing Nakajima's score paper that Omi had really understood Bell Liberty Academy's acceptance criteria. Students were accepted only if they passed the paper and were utterly outstanding in a particular field like Naruse-senpai or Iwai-senpai, were in the top one percentile like Kaoru-kun and Niwa-senpai, or did something ridiculous like both answer - brilliantly - and haughtily critique the paper itself, like Nakajima-senpai had.
The presentation in front of them drew to a close and the speaker told them that there would be a break for lunch. Pocketing his notebook, Nakajima rose and went over to the presenter to talk quietly with him for a few minutes, a polite smile on his face. Omi began packing his own materials into his bag. Upon finishing and rising, he looked up and realised that the speaker had left and Nakajima was watching him.
"Senpai, where is the cafeteria?" Omi asked.
Nakajima snorted and, to Omi's surprise, a ghost of a smile flickered on his face. "The food here is appalling. Let's go out." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room. Omi hurried after him and followed him outside where Nakajima hailed a taxi and again, held the back door open for him.
After a short drive, they arrived at an expensive-looking seashore restaurant. A waiter took them to a secluded table facing the beach. A posy of white and pink rosebuds sat in a tiny white vase between them on the white tablecloth. From the sight of the place, Omi was well-prepared for the price of the menu before he saw it. Given Nakajima was never thoughtless, bringing him here could only be a deliberate cruelty on the part of the senior.
They didn't talk to each other. It wasn't until Nakajima's cell rang, during their mains, that the senior finally spoke.
"Excuse me." Nakajima flicked open his phone and pressed it to his ear. "What is it?"
He frowned as he listened to the person on the other end. "No, the swimming club's next meeting is on Friday so you can leave making those arrangements to me to do tomorrow," he said finally. He fell silent again as the speaker on the other end - who Omi had by now guessed was Niwa - continued talking. Omi watched the furrow in Nakajima's brow get deeper.
"It's in the second drawer, after the cards. No, before that."
Another silence.
"The art display funds application is overdue at the Treasury. That's why I asked Iwai-san to drop it on the desk this morning. He must have done so while you were at class. No, I won't be back in time so you'll have to deliver it. No. …No." He glanced across at Omi, then down at his half-finished meal, and then waved over a passing waiter. "Yes, I will before we leave. Probably after 4. See you." He hung up and, addressing the waiter, said, "Bring me a dessert menu."
Omi blinked. When he ate out with Kaoru, Kaoru never let him order dessert, and on the rare occasion when Omi did so in spite of Kaoru's protests, Kaoru never let him hear the end of it. He felt a thrill flicker through him and he smiled, his delight overriding his attempt to keep his emotions hidden from the older student.
The waiter returned with a small menu, which Nakajima took, scanned briefly, said, "number three and number five. Bring them after," and then handed back. He glanced at Omi again, looked away, and then looked again as if he had only just registered Omi's glee. Then he smiled slightly before looking down and resuming eating his fish and rice.
The desserts, when they arrived, were even better than Omi had hoped. One was a board covered with five different miniature cakes. Another was a lavish ice cream sundae covered in chocolate sauce, fruit, cookie pieces, spun sugar, and cream. Nakajima had the waiter place the board in the middle of the table, sliding the posy to the side to make room. The sundae he indicated was to be placed in front of Omi.
NHSO/NHSO/NHSO/NHSO
Hideaki observed Shichijo's delight upon seeing the miniature cakes and giant sundae with an inward coil of pleasure. He didn't think he had ever seen such a sincere smile on the junior's face. The wrinkles at the corners of Shichijo's eyes were so deep that they almost reached the adorable little mole under his left eye.
He picked up one of the two dessert forks supplied with the cake board and began sampling each of the tiny creations. Usually, he didn't order dessert, as he was more inclined towards savoury, particularly spicy, foods. However, if the occasion called for it - usually on a date or when eating out with a girl - or, in this case, Shichijo's love of sweets - he willingly bowed to the occasion. He liked treating pretty young things and seeing them smile, and although the boy in front of him wasn't his date and they were far from friends, Shichijo-kun was certainly a very good looking specimen.
He sampled three of the five cakes and then finished, leaving the miniature lemon tart and cheesecake for the other boy to devour in full after he had finished with his sundae. Content, Nakajima sipped at his after lunch coffee as his companion continued to eat, occasionally looking up to quietly admire the sight of Shichijo licking his lips and spoon and peering excitedly at the colourful sweets in front of him.
"Do you bake?" he suddenly found himself asking.
Shichijo looked at him in surprise. "I… used to," he admitted, with a smile. "I baked when I was in junior high, and studied home economics too."
"You'd look good in an apron," Hideaki purred, before he could stop himself. Across from him, Shichijo blinked. And then, to Hideaki utter surprise, the junior blushed.
Well, this is a surprise. After over a year of believing that he could only pique Shichijo's interest by challenging him intellectually with hacking battles, and all he had to do was buy him dessert and insinuate he was a domestic goddess.
"Hm. You look good right now: a little bit cute, Kohai."
There was a long silence. Hideaki sipped at his coffee with deliberate calm. Shichijo swallowed, and then - apparently unable to resist sugar and cream even in the face of his worst enemy's mockery - resumed engaging with his sundae in a way that Hideaki felt inclined to do with certain of Shichijo's body parts. He had to look away and stop watching or he would have had an embarrassing problem by the time they left the table. He knew "Queen" Saionji-san wasn't sleeping with his nicknamed "Knight" and suddenly he wondered what was wrong with the pink haired boy.
He glanced at his watch. It was almost time to leave. He waited a few more minutes, until Shichijo had started on the cake board, and then rose, excusing himself. He went to the bathroom and on returning, avoiding Shichijo's line of sight, quietly paid the bill at the front of the restaurant. Upon returning to the table, he didn't retake his seat.
"We're going to be late," he told Shichijo when the junior looked attentively at him. Shichijo rose, though not before - Hideaki noticed - shooting a reluctant look at the remaining small cakes. As they headed towards the exit, he saw Shichijo glance at the cashier, and he added, in a deliberately casual tone, "It's paid."
NHSO/NHSO/NHSO/NHSO
Omi felt his stomach plummet the moment he heard Nakajima state that he had paid the bill. "How much do I owe you?" he asked, once they were in the car.
Nakajima just looked at him. "My treat," he replied smoothly.
"I'm not comfortable with that," Omi replied.
"You haven't been comfortable all day, Kohai." Nakajima smirked at him. "What's to be done about that?" His voice was purring again and with a jolt, Omi recognised the look as one Nakajima typically had when he was looking at a new conquest. His "sex face", he had heard other students call it. Nakajima was making "sex eyes" at him!
You are not going to let him feel you up in a taxi!
The sharp voice in his head sounded like Kaoru. It dragged him out of the thrilling fog that Nakajima's voice and presence was curling around him and suddenly, he found himself sitting up in his seat and pulling his jacket more closely around him. He smiled coolly at the older boy.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. But as you insisted, thank you for lunch, Senpai"
Nakajima glanced away and the boy adjusted his glasses slightly. His smirk softened to a smile. They travelled the rest of the way back to the hospital in silence.
The remaining presentations passed uneventfully. Afterwards, Nakajima stayed a while to thank the speakers and talk to those he knew personally. Omi waited behind him quietly. He was relieved when the senior finally excused them both and they walked back to the winding corridors, in the direction of the elevator and taxi rank.
They entered the elevator, Nakajima leading, and Omi noticed him press the button not to the ground floor, but to the third. He frowned.
"Where are we going?" he asked. He glanced at his watch. It was after four o'clock; they wouldn't be back at the academy until after 5 at this rate.
Nakajima glanced sidelong at him. "This won't take long."
The elevator doors slid open and the older boy strode out into the corridor beyond. With the manner of one who knew the floor well, he turned left and headed towards a locked double door. Omi looked at the sign above the door: Paediatric Intensive Care Unit.
Nakajima pressed the button on the door's answer phone, and when the phone crackled to life and asked them for their business, replied: "Friends of Shinomiya Ryoichi."
Omi's eyes widened. Shinomiya's little brother? As the doors opened and he followed Nakajima's taller frame into the unit, he looked around curiously, feeling a little awkward amidst the series of giant beds containing children surrounded by tubes and drips and softly beeping machines. He wasn't close to Shinomiya, but he had heard through the school grapevine that the dormitory head and archery captain had a sickly younger brother.
"Kohai."
He had fallen behind. Nakajima was standing at the doorway to a single room up ahead, gazing back at him expectantly. Omi walked over and together they entered the dim little room of an intubated nine or so year old boy. Although he was thin and small, his face resembled Shinomiya Kouji's remarkably.
He was fast asleep. A nurse was attending to one of the many intravenous drips. She smiled at them and, when finished with what she was doing, came over to greet them.
"Hello. Are you friends of Ryoichi-kun?" she asked.
"Classmates of his brother Kouji," Nakajima said smoothly. He held out his hand and she shook it, looking a little surprised and impressed by the formality. "Nakajima Hideaki and this is Shichijo Omi." Omi moved forward and shook her hand also. "Kouji asked us to drop off some items for him as he couldn't make it today."
"Oh, that's very kind of you," she said, her smile broadening. "Nakajima. I recognise your name. You've been here before, haven't you." She took the gift bag that Nakajima held out to her and peeked inside. "CDs for him. Thank you. He likes those."
Omi listened quietly as Nakajima chatted to the nurse about the patient's condition. Apparently Shinomiya's brother had been transferred to AI Hospital a few months ago. He had subsequently deteriorated and been moved to the intensive care unit during the holidays.
Nakajima didn't converse with the nurse for more than ten minutes. After ascertaining the patient's condition that day, he wished the boy and the nurse well, and then left. Omi did likewise before following him, deep in thought.
"Does Shinomiya Ryoichi need a pacemaker?" Omi asked as they taxied back to the academy.
Nakajima looked up from reading the messages on his phone. He smirked. "Motivated?"
Concerned was a more apt description for how Omi now felt about accepting the Chairman's proposal. "I didn't know you were interested in electrical engineering," he said.
"I'm not," Nakajima said curtly. "But you are, Shichijo-kun."
Omi stared at him, too incredulous at the statement to form words. Nakajima tutted at his expression.
"Don't give yourself a conniption. You know hardware; I've seen your devices for Umino-sensei floating around the school. We'll work with the company on the hardware and they'll test the prototype thoroughly before inserting it into anyone. Kurosawa-sensei will assess us on the computer aspect."
Omi stared at him doubtfully. Then, another thought striking him, he ventured, worriedly, "Are you proposing I do the electrical engineering aspect of the project and you the computer engineering?"
"Precisely." Nakajima was looking at his phone again, a frown on his face.
"How will Kurosawa-sensei grade me if I can't demonstrate that I did any computer work on this proposed pacemaker?"
Nakajima paused. Then he raised his gaze and looked critically at him. "It's a group assignment, Kohai. As the assessment score sheet states, we are graded as a pair."
Omi stared back at him, his own gaze wary. He wouldn't put it past Nakajima to lie to him, but he also knew that the older boy wouldn't lie so blatantly. When the senior broke eye contact and looked back down at his phone, he looked away - feeling upset with himself for his own doubts. They were partners now. Short of sabotaging the entire project and risking his own grade, how could Nakajima possibly harm him?
They didn't talk for the rest of the journey back. Considering the senior's disdainful last words to him, Omi half-suspected Nakajima would leave without saying goodbye as soon as they were out of the taxi.
But as he got out of the taxi, he was surprised when Nakajima not only spoke to him, but came over to his side of the car and opened his door for him. Bewildered, Omi got out, not looking at him as he didn't know where to look.
"Shichijo-kun."
The other's scent was stronger after their long day out, and it was even more distracting. Omi stepped away awkwardly and quickly asked, "Are you free to meet to discuss the project on Sunday at 2 again?" He looked cautiously at the older boy and was relieved to see that Nakajima was gazing at him normally - with his usual cold stare.
Nakajima nodded curtly. "I'll book a room in the library," he said. "See you then." So saying, he walked away.
NHSO/NHSO/NHSO/NHSO
It was about five o'clock so Hideaki went to his room, changed into his basketball gear, and headed to the courts. Upon his arrival, he heard a few groans from Tetsuya's usual team mates and smirked. And then he heard the score and wondered whether he should have bothered turning up at all.
That was when he noticed that Niwa Tetsuya was no where to be seen. "Where's Tetsuya?" he asked of Naruse, who was refereeing that night.
"Oi, I'm here. Don't be mean to my team tonight, Hide," a familiar voice said - a little nasally - from the benches. Hideaki swung around and stared at his best friend in alarm. Tetsuya was sitting on the bench, nursing a black eye and bloody nose with a dripping ice pack.
Hideaki swore and strode over. "What happened to you?" he demanded as he reached out and grabbed his best friend by the chin. He turned Tetsuya's face this way and that. "Why aren't you in the sick room?"
"Ow-ow-ow. I was there," Tetsuya grumbled, pulling his face free. "It's been seen. Someone just elbowed me in the face now and it started bleeding again."
"Saionji-san punched him. Twice," Naruse supplied. The blond had come up to watch their exchange and now reached out to take the ice pack. "I'll get you a fresh one," he said cheerfully.
Hideaki frowned. "Saionji-san was in the Treasury when you delivered Iwai-san's application," he deduced, "and you hit on him."
Tetsuya just stared mulishly at him, the equivalent of a confession to Hideaki.
There was nothing that could be said, as far as Hideaki was concerned. Tetsuya would mope for a bit and then get over Saionji's ire and try again. Hideaki's job, as Tetsuya's best friend, was simple. He smirked.
"Beaten by the most mediocre PE student in the school," he said slyly. "Either you've fallen in love or you're about to lose your crown, King-san."
"Ahh, shut up, Hide," Tetsuya got up, scowling at him. He pushed past Hideaki to head back onto the court.
"So which is it, Tet-chan?" Hideaki taunted as he followed his friend.
"Neither. Bitch has a mean hand," Niwa snapped as he signalled for the ball to be thrown to him. "Are we doing this or not, Hide?"
Hideaki tutted and smiled. Job done.