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It's Taka's own fault when he turns down the invitation to join the regulars for a post-regionals celebration party, but that doesn't stop his chest from tightening up a little bit with regret, and it doesn't make working in the kitchen until close any more enjoyable. The second time he turns down an invitation, this one from Eiji, he remains grateful that they're still thinking about him. The third time, he asks Inui if he doesn't think Taka should maybe not be invited at all anymore, since he's not actually on the team. Inui sounds confused when he answers "If that's what you want, Taka-san," and Taka hangs up the phone thinking he's never wanted anything less in his entire life. His father yells at him in front of a customer that night for cutting himself and ruining a perfectly good piece of anago, and for the first time since he was ten years old, Taka falls asleep crying. For the first time ever, he thinks he hates everything about sushi.
His father gives him the rest of the weekend off, which he's prone to doing when Taka really messes something up, and Taka considers calling someone and asking if they'd like to play a game of tennis but he's too embarrassed. He puts on running shoes and goes for a jog instead, finding himself seated on a bench next to the nearest public tennis courts without having intended to stop at all. None of the players are familiar, and most of them aren't very good, but Taka sits with his chin propped in his hand and watches anyway, trying not to fidget with jealousy. There's a little boy there getting lessons from his mom and dad, and the sight finally becomes so painful he has to switch sides so he's too far away to really keep an eye on their court. He doesn't leave until the sun is beginning to set and all the courts been emptied.
~
Taka doesn't much like Sundays anyway, and he especially doesn't like them when his head is foggy and throbbing as a result of too much sleep. He drags himself downstairs still wearing the clothes he went to bed in, and he's entertaining thoughts of breakfast but forgets about them the second he hears a familiar clicking sound from the front of the shop.
"Fuji?" Taka stands in the doorway and stares. Fuji is alone at the bar, head tilted back and apparently snapping pictures of the ceiling. Taka glances at the sign on the door to reassure himself that to the outside world, it still reads "CLOSED."
"Good morning, Taka-san," Fuji says. He snaps a few more pictures and then sets the camera down, smiling warmly. "I was taking photographs outside and happened to see Kawamura-san unloading a delivery of salmon."
Taka glances at the wall clock, startled. "I forgot about the new shipment," he groans.
"Nothing your old man can't handle," his father says from the back room, and Taka turns to face him sheepishly. He's balancing a wooden crate on one shoulder, his opposite hand planted firmly on his hip. "Fuji said maybe he could do something about your attitude."
Taka feels his humiliated blush spread and is about to mutter some sort of protest, but just then Fuji appears at his elbow and flashes both Kawamuras a friendly smile.
"I've been in a bad mood lately, too," Fuji says. "Thank you for letting me borrow your son for the day, Kawamura-san. I'm sure it will cheer me up."
His father waves a dismissive hand and turns his back to them to set down the crate. "It's me who should be thanking you. He's useless when he's like this." The words have no real bite to them, but Taka's shoulders fall regardless. "Takashi, put on some clean clothes before you go out."
Fuji thanks him again and gives Taka a less-than-gentle shove toward the staircase. Taka has no choice but to lead the way.
"You should wear the white one," Fuji says as Taka begins to rifle through his shirts. "White looks good on you."
Taka wonders if that means he's boring. He nods and waits for Fuji to turn around and allow him to change. When Fuji makes no move to do so, Taka's face heats even more, but he struggles out of the wrinkled t-shirt and shrugs into the new one anyway. It shouldn't be weird, but they're not in the clubhouse so it feels different. Fuji smiles the entire time, and after Taka realizes he's messed up the buttons he decides to stick with the pair of pants he's got.
"Ready?" Fuji asks.
"Ready," Taka says, wondering exactly what he should be preparing for. Fuji slips his camera strap around his neck and rests a gentle hand on Taka's arm, guiding him back toward the stairs.
"We're going to have fun today," Fuji says assures him. Taka's stomach still feels twisted up and his face is still hot, but when Fuji uses that voice, he has a hard time ever doubting him.
"Okay," he agrees, and he follows Fuji down the stairs.
They go to an indoor ice rink, despite Taka's repeated protests that he's impossible in anything other than tennis shoes.
"I almost killed another student on a field trip in third grade," he says desperately. "I skated right into him and he flipped over the wall."
Fuji just beams and bends down to tighten the laces on Taka's skates. "We're a long way from third grade, Taka-san," he says, straightening up in a sickening display of balance on his own skates and offering Taka a hand.
Taka looks dubious and doesn't immediately lift himself off the bench. "What if –" he starts.
"It won't matter," Fuji says simply. He grabs Taka's hand and pulls him to his feet without allowing another moment of hesitation. Taka immediately stumbles and only avoids falling on his face because Fuji has a firm hold on his shoulders. They're not even on the ice yet, and already he can hardly keep upright.
"Stop thinking about it," Fuji says. He begins walking backwards, leading Taka patiently toward the ice. "Don't look at your feet. Look at me."
Taka thinks looking anywhere other than down right now sounds like a terrible idea, but he obeys Fuji anyway, frowning despite Fuji's obvious enjoyment. There aren't very many other people there today – most of them are probably outside, enjoying the weather while it's good – but still Taka is positive he'll end up sending someone to the emergency room.
"I think we should go somewhere else," Taka says.
"I think you should stop worrying." Fuji lets go of Taka's shoulders and grabs one of his hands, and Taka stumbles again but rights himself fairly easily. "One foot in front of the other. It's better to focus on exactly what you're doing right now than try to think too far ahead."
Taka is tempted to ask what Fuji means by that, but then he remembers they're only talking about skating. "Okay," he says reluctantly.
Fuji hums his approval and they begin to move forward very slowly. Even with a large and heavy camera swinging from his neck, Fuji is still more effortlessly graceful than Taka could be if he practiced for months.
"You're good at this," Taka says after he recovers from yet another near-fall.
"I used to take my little brother," Fuji says. "Before he got too embarrassed to hold hands."
Taka nods. It occurs to him that he should maybe be embarrassed to hold hands with Fuji too, but he isn't really. He's more embarrassed at the idea of falling and pulling Fuji down with him.
"I'm letting go," Fuji says.
Taka chokes a little and looks up as Fuji does just that. He wavers but doesn't wipe out or crash into anybody, and Fuji skates backwards, lifting his camera to his eye and taking a picture.
"Fuji, don't!"
Fuji chuckles, but he obediently lowers his camera. "I won't show anyone," he says reassuringly.
If it were anyone else, Taka would ask why he would even bother, then, but it's Fuji, so he keeps his mouth shut.
"Let's get ice cream after this," Fuji suggests. Taka just nods and focuses on exactly what he's doing.
~
When Taka gets back that night, his father glances over the counter at him while he's cutting tamago.
"You should take Sundays off from now on," he says before returning to his work.
Taka's not sure why it makes him blush, but he nods and says thanks anyway. He hurries upstairs with the intention of finishing his homework and ends up checking his email instead. There's already a message from Fuji, with an image attached. It's the picture of Taka, of course, completely ungainly and off-balance on the ice. The message itself is only two lines:
Sometimes it's good to try new things.
Thanks for coming with me today.
Taka saves the picture to his desktop even though he doesn't know what to do with it. He lies back on his bed and stares at the ceiling, and it's a long time before he remembers to study for his English quiz.
end