POV Takao
"Well," Imayoshi sighed, as he lifted his espresso in a toast. "You've managed somethin' that none of the Point Guard Poker Players has managed yet, you're actually makin' good on your dreams. Ta dreams!"
"To dreams," Kasamatsu echoed, and Mitobe clinked his mug against mine in agreement.
"You'll all get there! Chatterbox is already halfway there, after all," I said. "But thank you, I appreciate the sentiment, and I'm going to miss you all. If you come to New York, you have visit me, on your honor as Point Guards, and Centers, but really Chatterbox, you've always had the heart of a Point Guard."
"I did some research about celebrations and how such things are done State-side, but ya don't drink and, I have no interest in watchin' a male stripper grind against ya in a lap dance, so instead you'll have to make do with Chatterbox's famous mochi and our charmin' company," Saint said, offering me the plate of delicate, sinful purple taro mochi.
"I'm not getting married," I laughed, "You've mixed up going away and bachelor parties. Wow! Your English must really suck."
"Don't be stupid, Bat," Pacifist said, shuffling the cards.
"What are you guys thinking? This is Shin-chan we're talking about."
"If he doesn't have a ring on your finger in the first moment ya two are alone, I'll eat this deck," Saint chuckled, and pointed to the cards.
Chatterbox held up his phone and mimed videotaping.
"You'd better videotape it, 'cause I will savor watching you be wrong," I smirked.
"Why? You don't want to marry Socialite?" Pacifist asked. "That's legal over there, right?"
"Hell yeah, I'd do it in an instant, but we've already talked it over. His dad will add me to the family register as soon as I turn 20 in November. That's all I need."
"He's adorable when he's actin' stupid, ain't he?" Saint asked Chatterbox. The other nodded in agreement.
"Just deal the damn cards, Pacifist," I demanded.
"Now it is time for your gifts, Bat," Pacifist said, rubbing his hands together.
"Guys, guys, you really shouldn't have. I have like, no room to take anything with me. Besides, it's not like any of us have extra money lying around."
"We know that Bat, give us some credit," Saint said. "A good gift doesn't have ta be expensive, ya know?"
Chatterbox pushed an envelope across the table, clearly showing that his present wasn't going to be a problem for packing.
I took the envelope and slipped the single sheet of paper from within.
Chatterbox took pride in his calligraphy because it was one of the few ways he was able to communicate fully, and the poem that I read was a beautiful example of how well he could turn a phrase. I was almost unable to read it out loud, but I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave voice to Chatterbox's words:
Nature gave me brothers (and sisters), siblings of blood and paternity.
I was given no choice, no input, no say.
I have to make do with what I feel, what I see.
Nature gives me siblings, who I must nurture along the way.
Nurture gave me brothers (Point Guards), siblings of basketball and sweat.
I was given a choice, albeit a small one.
I have to make do with their foibles, 'Gentlemen, Place Your Bets.'
Nurture gives me brother-friends, where nature gave me none.
"Dude, now I get it. I'd want to be a writer if I had words like those as well," I said.
"Me next," Pacifist said. He hadn't bothered to wrap his present, he just chucked a small flash drive at me. "I, um, well, you'll have to listen to it later."
"But what is it?" I asked, holding the drive, and looking at Pacifist.
"It's a song I wrote for you and Socialite," Pacifist said, looking away at the menu board with a great and sudden interest in ordering something, anything, as long as it took scrutiny from him.
"You fella's are so multi-talented that y'll make me sick with jealousy," Saint said, shifting the focus off the blushing, stuttering, horribly awkward Pacifist. "I actually spent money, but I don't want ya ta be thinkin' this is just a present for ya. This is for all of us, the Point Guard Poke Players, ta continue our wicked ways even while ya are across the ocean."
Saint slid a CD case-sized package, wrapped in Shūtoku orange, across the table. Bat admired the wrapping for a second, before flipping it over and dismantling the carefully fastened gift.
"A previously owned copy of Resident Evil 6?" I chuckled. "You do know I don't have a PS3?"
"Open the case," Saint smirked, his smile widening.
A Sony gift card was taped to the inside cover.
"Saint, you can't, I mean this is way too much money."
"It ain't too much money, only I get ta decide that. 'Sides, I checked and State-side they're not that much anymore. That should get you the system, the headphones, and maybe an extra controller for Socialite," Saint shrugged.
"But, that's -"
"Don't make me say it again, Bat. No one tells me how much is too much ta spend on my three best friends."
When the night was over Kasamatsu stared at me for a moment.
"See you next year," he said and moved aside.
Mitobe gave me a long hug and rubbed my hair in a lingering gesture. He and I both knew I wouldn't be back; Shin-chan was too talented and he belonged where the basketball was excellent.
[make sure you email often, with lots of pictures of all the cool things you do] He showed me the draft on his phone rather than sending it.
"I will, as long as you promise to keep in touch, too," I said. He pulled me in for another hug, and then turned and followed Kasamatsu to the train station. Mitobe would most likely spend the night with his irritating siblings before returning to Osaka to follow his dreams. The sacrifices he makes for us!
Imayoshi stood with his hands in his pocket at the corner waiting for me to join him so we could walk back.
"Enough teasin'," he said. "Even I can be serious when required. I envy you, Takao."
He hadn't called me by my name in years and the distinction made me pay closer attention.
"How anyone can stand Midorima, is beyond me, but... my Mama always said that when ya find that one perfect person, you do everythin' in your power to make 'em happy. And she told me that any girl I was willin' to sacrifice for, was a keeper. I see that in ya two, and it makes me think maybe someone's out there for me too."
We came to a stop at the next corner and waited for the light to change. From here, I would go ahead, while he would turn left.
"I... "
"Nah, ya don't need to say a word," he said, clasping me on the shoulder. "Next time we see each other, let's have it be in New York." His fake smile fell away, and he opened his gray eyes as tears leaked down his face. He squeezed me hard and then turned and walked away.
POV Takao
It was almost too much, the last month, but I forced myself out every Sunday afternoon for some rest and relaxation with the guys at the courts.
But finals ended, the last of my photo shoots were completed, and the Aida Sports Complex held a going away party for me, including a wonderful gift of a new set of matching luggage which I desperately needed, given the amount of things people expect me to travel halfway across the globe with.
It was bittersweet, the feeling of sleeping in our room for the last night. I'd found more love inside this home in the past three years than I'd known all sixteen years previous and I knew that no matter where our future took us, this room would not be ours soon. Of course, we'd always be welcome, but we'd have moved on from this to something new.