Chapter Text
Kakeru numbly took the cap off the bottle of water, still a little shell-shocked. He sipped it as Haiji finished his ice cream, darting the occasional concerned look in his direction. Kakeru also saw him eyeing the display bookshelves, so he waved him off.
“Go ahead and look. I’ll just be a few more minutes,” Kakeru assured. In his head he was frantically screaming, This is your fault! If you’d just grabbed the spoon like a normal person, I wouldn’t be having a crisis! He wanted to slap his own cheeks, but he definitely didn’t want to lose it more than he already had in front of Haiji. He was getting enough poorly hidden looks as it was. Get it together, moron!
Just one little action had thrown what felt like his entire life off kilter. He didn’t remember Haiji-san doing anything like that in the future, but the days of sharing almost every meal together had faded into a distant memory. There’s a saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it hadn’t worked like that in real life. Not for them. Ever since Haiji-san had popped back into his life at Kakeru’s graduation with a spare key to his new apartment, trying to re-create that spark had seemed more and more like a one-sided battle with every passing day.
Kakeru took another bite of his half-melted parfait, the sweetness rolling across his tongue and doing wonders to calm him down. With a gusty sigh, he took out the biscuit and unceremoniously stuffed it in his mouth, staring with his eyes unfocused at a corner where the wall met the ceiling.
We were close in the future, but… Kakeru closed his eyes. There was a distance there that I couldn’t cross. In the end, we simply had different finish lines. His was the Hakone Ekiden that started it all, and I was still running ahead without knowing that I was leaving him behind. Maybe the distance between us was a penance for that, or a curse, but how was I supposed to know that running could ever become a point of contention between us?
He really should’ve caught on when Haiji-san skillfully dodged every invitation to watch him run with the excuse of ‘scheduling conflicts’. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt so much when Kakeru finally backed him into the corner and Haiji-san lashed out. “I have to look away when I see old ladies jogging in the park because I can’t even do that much and you want me to watch you race? I don’t think I could stomach the sight. Stop asking me. I won’t go.”
That’s not what Kakeru heard, of course. His mind twisted it as, “I can’t stand the sight of you.” It had been really hard to drag himself out of bed that week. It had at least explained why Haiji-san had always gotten himself assigned to do interviews on the other side of Japan every first week of January since he came back from America.
Haiji-san was my answer, Kakeru dimly thought to himself, but I wasn’t his. His love for me and running had an invisible time limit that zeroed out at that finish line.
He heard a dull roar in his ears as tears welled up behind his closed eyelids.
I know he felt the same way once even if I was too stupid to realize it at the time. Now I have a second chance. Can I be selfish if that time comes…?
There was no use in thinking such things. Haiji had only known him for a day at this point.
I’ll wait patiently, Kakeru decided. I’ll wait for you forever if I have to. In this life, the next, keep ‘em coming because I’m not gonna stop wanting to run with you infinitely.
He’d wait for Haiji to confess to him first. He was feeling decent about his chances after that life-reaffirming power move with the spoon. The end of day one of the Ekiden would be when Kakeru would know for certain that they had changed fate. If everything went well, he’d arm Haiji with the knowledge of how both days of the Ekiden had gone the first time around and let him decide how to proceed.
The thought of Haiji doing what he did all over again scared the shit out of Kakeru, but it also motivated him even more to help Haiji push the team as far as physically possible, to the edge of their limits and no further beyond. And, of course, to keep a firm eye on Shindou to make sure he didn’t overwork himself again.
He savored the final bites of his parfait with a focused mind and steadier heartbeat, then brought their dishes to the counter and joined Haiji at the tastefully spaced out bookshelves.
“It’s funny,” Haiji said sheepishly, holding up a book to show Kakeru. “I have this as an e-book in my collection and I haven’t read it yet. It’s making me feel guilty.”
“Guilty?” Kakeru asked, curious.
“Well,” Haiji sighed, placing the book back down on the display shelf, “I bought it two years ago.”
“Why would you buy a book and not read it?” Kakeru asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Is this something all literature majors do?”
Haiji burst out laughing. “I don’t think it’s limited to literature majors specifically,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I think a lot of readers have this problem. It’s almost a point of pride in some forums.”
“I don’t understand that at all,” Kakeru said, then paused. “Then again, I’ve never been one for reading books outside of the ones assigned in school until Prince got me hooked on manga.”
“Oh, you’re a fan of manga?” Haiji asked, giving him a small smile.
“Yeah, I guess. I never knew there was so much sports manga out,” Kakeru said thoughtfully, thinking of Haikyuu!!. For Kakeru, its run had long since finished since it had been a few years for him since the last volume came out. It was so strange to think it would be running for two more years. He hoped he didn’t accidentally spoil anything if the topic came up; he shuddered to think of what it might be like to be on Prince’s shit list. “Prince started me out on shoujo manga, though,” he finished.
“Ah,” Haiji said sympathetically. “Yes, I believe that would account for the majority of Prince’s impressive collection.”
Kakeru snorted. “Impressive is one word for it. Are you still browsing, or are you ready to head out?”
“Sure. We’d better get out of here before I get tempted,” Haiji said, pointedly looking away from the books and starting to walk to the doors.
“Got it.” Kakeru followed him out, amused. The sun was still shining brightly and he raised a hand to shield his eyes until they walked into a building’s shade.
“So, to Hana-chan’s?” Haiji asked, leading the way back to the station.
“Actually, I was thinking of going into the SALOMON we passed,” Kakeru told him. Haiji eyed him pointedly before asking with suspicion, “Haven’t you bought our team enough things for today?”
Kakeru felt a little thrill at his own words getting thrown back to him, but didn’t let it distract him from a pressing issue. “It’s for Prince,” he exclaimed. “He was running in blue jeans for months, Haiji. I want to avoid that from the very start.”
“For months?” Haiji exclaimed, looking alarmed.
“It was hard to watch,” Kakeru admitted, “and we couldn’t really do anything about it because we were broke.” He thought back to all the times they had to rely on the help of shopping vendors.
“Yeah, I can imagine,” Haiji said faintly. “So you weren’t rich the last time around?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m rich now either,” Kakeru said, laughing, “But yeah, I donated most of the sponsorship money as soon as I made it to Tokyo last time.”
“May I ask why?”
Kakeru gave it a minute of thought, wondering how to put it into words. They reached the SALOMON building and stopped next to the doors.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Haiji said patiently.
“No, I want to,” Kakeru told him, pursing his lips. “I told you that in high school, running felt like a matter of life and death, right?” Haiji stiffened, looking conflicted, but Kakeru pressed on, “I was trapped for years, so when I was cut loose it was… overwhelming, to say the least.”
“I can only imagine,” Haiji said softly, stepping a little closer to him.
“I suddenly had more money than I knew what to do with, but it was just a shitty reminder of all the things I had to endure. I spent it on my tuition and my schoolbooks for the year, but buying anything else felt like I would…” Kakeru trailed off.
“Resent it?” Haiji finished for him in a careful tone.
“Yeah,” Kakeru said, relieved.
“I think I can understand that,” Haiji said with a nod, his eyes darkened in concern. “Do you still feel that way, though? I don’t want you to hurt yourself if spending this money makes you uneasy.”
“What I’m spending this money on isn’t for me and me alone,” Kakeru reminded him gently. “I stand by what I said in Descente. Let me spoil our team, Haiji. Let it be worth the cost.”
“If you say so,” Haiji said, clapping his shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit or two for Prince.”
“I’d be happy for the help,” Kakeru replied with a grateful nod.
★━━
After some careful deliberation helped by what Haiji knew of Prince’s preferred sense of fashion, something Kakeru had never bothered to pay attention to, they eventually settled on a pair of black cross run tights and a pair of extra small reddish orange shorts on a clerk’s insistence that the small sizes run big. Kakeru argued that they should throw in a proper cross run shirt or two, but Haiji put his foot down.
“It’s not that I don’t love how committed you are to our team,” Haiji explained in a patient tone, “But I can tell you with one hundred percent confidence that Prince wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those shirts.”
Kakeru thought about the graphic shirts that Prince generally liked to wear, looked over the bland shirts with a more critical eye, and grumbled a bit, conceding the point. He picked up a heather cross run shirt for himself as a consolation prize. They passed the women’s section on the way to checkout and stopped in front of a rack of running pullovers and jackets. A teddy midlayer jacket caught Kakeru’s attention and a quick glance to his left showed Haiji also looking at it.
“You should try it on,” Kakeru suggested, unable to help himself. “I think this,” he pulled one forward to check the tag, “honey ginger one would look really good on you.” Cute. It would look cute on you, but I can’t say that.
Haiji gave him a smile, looking flattered, and said, “If you say so.” He grabbed a large and Kakeru put the clothes slung across his arm onto a shelf to help him try it on. Haiji took off his track jacket, placing it on the aforementioned pile of clothes and turned around obligingly. They quickly discovered it was too small when it stopped just short of Haiji’s shoulders and quietly laughed as they put some effort into getting it off. Kakeru slung it back on its hanger and grabbed an extra large.
It slid on just fine and Kakeru smoothed his hands down the shoulders, marveling at the texture of the recycled polyester. Haiji seemingly had no trouble zipping it up and he turned around in a little spin to show it off.
Kakeru’s breath caught in his throat.
“What do you think?” Haiji asked, looking around distractedly for some sort of mirror.
“It looks very cute on you,” Kakeru admitted without thinking. Crap! I said it!
“Oh,” Haiji said, looking downright thrilled, “You really think so?”
Kakeru wasn’t sure how the man could ask that without blushing, but perhaps he was blushing enough for the both of them. ”I’m buying it for you,” he said in a no-nonsense tone, looking away, embarrassed. “You can’t say no.”
“Kakeru,” Haiji said in a chiding tone of voice, “Look at me.”
Kakeru felt his eyes get drawn back without his consent and immediately clapped a mortified hand over them, blushing even harder. He looks even cuter with the hood up! This isn’t fair! He definitely knows what he’s doing!
Haiji just laughed and clapped him on the back, delighted at getting a rise out of him. “I won’t say no,” he said in a reassuring tone of voice.
Kakeru didn’t feel at all reassured, but he’d already made his decision and had to face the consequences. He didn’t know whether to thank the staff of SALOMON for still having a warm teddy jacket out when spring started a few days ago or curse them for giving him a heart condition. He seriously considered picking up a health charm at a shrine just in case.
An image popped into Kakeru’s mind of Haiji stepping out on the balcony underneath the night sky wearing that jacket and he had to lock his knees to stop them from buckling. He’d given the man way too much power.
Kakeru cleared his throat a few times and peeked through his fingers to look back to Haiji, who had thankfully swapped the honey orange jacket for his usual track jacket. Dropping his hand with a relieved sigh, he picked up Prince’s clothes and his new shirt and quickly walked to the checkout counter. Haiji was still laughing at him under his breath and he valiantly fought the urge to glare at him.
★━━
With Kakeru’s purchases in hand, they started to walk back to the station. The streets were a little more crowded with salarymen leaving work and high school students heading home for the day, so Haiji walked a little behind him with Kakeru automatically straying closer to Haiji’s right.
“Why don’t you let me carry one of those?” Haiji asked, sounding a little unsettled. “It seems unfair for you to do the heavy lifting when you’re the one who bought everything.”
“This is hardly heavy lifting,” Kakeru tried to play it off, tensing a little as he sensed a potential argument brewing. Haiji gave a hum of disapproval and stayed silent for another minute. Kakeru heard his footsteps slowing and slowed his own in deference, carefully glancing behind him. Haiji sped up a bit, so Kakeru did too. He strayed to the right, then to the left with Kakeru always, always covering the man’s right side.
Haiji came to a halt, and so did Kakeru. He turned around, unable to keep a knowing grimace from his face.
Uh oh. He found me out.
“I’m not an invalid, you know,” Haiji snapped, his eyes darkening in anger at Kakeru for the first time since they met yesterday. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you’re not,” Kakeru said simply, his grip tightening on the bags. They felt heavier all of a sudden. “And I know you can take care of yourself.”
“But?” Haiji prodded, crossing his arms with a frown.
“But your knee’s still not at one hundred percent, is it?” Kakeru stated rather than questioned. Haiji’s lips pursed and he glared down at the sidewalk. “That shouldn’t matter. I don’t need your pity,” he spat, looking insulted.
Kakeru dragged him closer to the Family Mart they’d stopped in front of and out of the flow of traffic, carefully resting the bags against the side of the building. He put his hands on Haiji’s shoulders, gripping them tightly and lowering his head at a tilt to meet the other man’s eyes.
“It’s not that at all,” Kakeru said with conviction. Haiji’s shoulders lowered a bit as he met Kakeru’s eyes, who gentled his tone and continued, “I know you haven’t told me this yet, but shortly after we met… where I came from,” he said carefully as they were in a very public area, “I came across you massaging your knee and you told me you’d be running at my pace in six months.”
Haiji huffed out a breath, his defenses visibly lowering. “Yeah,” he muttered, “That does sound like something I would say.” Kakeru re-situated his hands to soothingly rub up and down Haiji’s upper arms, leaning a little closer in an attempt to make his words stick so they could leave this argument in the past where it belonged.
“I don’t think you’re weak at all. You just need more time to heal,” Kakeru reassured him and rested their foreheads together, hoping that what he said next would come across the way he meant it.
“To me, you’re the strongest runner.”
A stifled sob had him pulling Haiji into a tight embrace, whispering platitudes into his ear as the man’s hands gripped the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Kakeru continued softly, feeling Haiji’s hair brushing his neck and his shoulder becoming wet. He committed it to memory to kick himself over later; seeing his most important person cry was just as awful as he remembered, “so when I say I won’t think any less of you, that I would never pity you, know that I mean it. With all my heart.
“It sucks that you can’t run at your best right now,” he emphasized and felt more than saw Haiji nod, “but you will, I promise you will because I’ve seen it and it’s-”
Kakeru cut himself off, feeling himself start crying too. He rested his forehead against the crown of Haiji’s head and barely resisted kissing it. Before tragedy struck, before the scream, there was a wondering smile on Haiji-san’s face that he just couldn’t bring himself to forget…
“It’s the best thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” he said lamely before picking back up, full steam ahead, “I want to see it again more than anything, so yeah, I’m gonna protect you when we’re on a busy city street, when we get on a crowded train, if I see something you might have missed on the path when we’re running together-”
Haiji’s hands pulled him closer as his shoulders trembled and Kakeru’s shoulder grew wetter and he tightened his hold even more in response.
“-and I’m gonna hold our shopping bags because the thought of someone jostling it into your knee makes me want to punch something and I know you don’t want that!”
Haiji let out a wet giggle. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he replied weakly. “It wasn’t my proudest moment,” Kakeru mumbled back. Sakaki just knew the right buttons to push; it would probably happen again, as shameful as it felt to admit it.
They separated as if on silent agreement and Haiji brushed his hand against Kakeru’s shoulder, sniffing wetly. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking down again, “I made your shoulder wet.”
“Don’t apologize,” Kakeru said, ducking his head to meet Haiji’s eyes again. “It’s just a shirt. I even bought myself a new one today if it makes you feel any better.”
Haiji laughed again, digging into his pocket for his handkerchief to wipe his eyes with. “How could I forget?” he asked with a playful curl to his smile before it faded a little. “Let’s make a compromise. I’ll let you be my white knight and you can carry the bags now, but I will carry one in my left hand to make room for the vegetables when we’re done shopping.”
“Oh, I can, can I?” Kakeru teased him. Haiji stuck out his pinky finger and Kakeru laughed, but complied, curling his pinky around the other’s to seal the deal. “What are you, a little kid?”
“Got you to promise, didn’t I?” Haiji said smugly, “And if you break it, I’ll just have someone cut it off.”
Kakeru jerked back in shock and nearly dropped the bags he’d just picked up.
“Don’t you know the history of yubikiri, Kakeru?” Haiji asked with false innocence, and Kakeru could only sputter in response, bewildered. The rest of their walk to the station was spent with Haiji teaching Kakeru the history of the pinky promise as it originated in Japan.
