Chapter Text
It starts out with a kiss. That much isn’t unusual, nor are the circumstances, but it still comes out of left field. For him at least. He’s good at picking up on things down to minute details, but only if they’re in his sphere of interest. If Imaizumi isn’t focused on something, he’ll miss it.
When it happens, he thinks that he’s missed rather a lot.
They’re here to cheer on Onoda, who is competing in his first solo race. By them, he means himself and Naruko. The others on the team are preoccupied with their own training; they had sent Onoda off with their best wishes and encouraging words. There’s supposed to be a party in the works for the next day, to celebrate Onoda’s victory. Or soothe his wounds if it’s a loss, Imaizumi guesses. Everyone seems to believe it’ll be a win, though. Cautiously, he does as well.
Onoda is the sort of person you want to believe in. He’s pulled off so many miracles that it’s given him that kind of aura. The kind where you think he’ll continue to rise past your wildest expectations.
It’s a local race, besides, which means the competition isn’t likely to be as fierce as it is in the Inter High. Onoda has decent odds of being the most battle-hardened cyclist there, even for someone who’s only been racing competitively for a short span of time.
Imaizumi believes in him. And not because of it, Onoda crosses the finish line first.
Winning a race is exhilarating. The flow of time is different for the victor, creating a feeling of euphoria that seems to stretch on forever, even when it’s less than a minute in actuality. Once you’re off the track, though, things go back to normal. Imaizumi is used to what that feels like. He soon finds out that when you’re a spectator, that exhilaration lasts longer.
It buoys both him and Naruko over the gate at the end of the track and toward Onoda at full speed, and when they reach him, he realizes he’s not sure why he was running. Onoda isn’t going anywhere. He’s exhausted, leaning heavily on his handlebars and panting. They could have walked. But the excitement bubbling inside him just wouldn’t let him move that slow.
Naruko runs ahead of him by a step, colliding with the frame of Onoda’s bike, and hugs him fiercely. Onoda gasps in what must be surprise and turns to look at them. Then he looks at Naruko, who is a hair’s width away from his face. There’s no clear emotion there when Naruko surges forward impulsively, planting his lips on Onoda’s.
Something in Imaizumi’s stomach turns over, like he missed a step and he’s about to fall. His feet are steady though, so he stops where he is, sneakers crunching against the asphalt. He watches them kiss for the intervening seconds and feels confused.
Where did them all being friends turn into something more for those two? How did he miss that development? He’s not jealous, Imaizumi assures himself. Just confused. He didn’t see this coming.
The bubble of exhilaration seems to pop when Naruko and Onoda separate. They stare at each other, looking a little surprised too. Then a blush creeps onto both of their faces, and Naruko leaps back two steps.
“Ack! Shit! Sorry, Onoda-kun!” he says rapid-fire, cheeks flaming red to match his hair.
Imaizumi raises an eyebrow. He’s still lost, but the realization that Naruko didn’t bother thinking before he made his move is hard not to respond to. It’s too typical.
The three of them stand there for a tense minute or so before finally, someone speaks.
“I… don’t mind, Naruko-kun,” Onoda says, looking at the ground rather than at him.
He’s tapping the index fingers of each hand against each other, the way he had the first time he asked Imaizumi over to watch anime at his house. It’s both nervous and hopeful, and more than a little endearing. Why he remembers that gesture now, Imaizumi isn’t sure. The context is completely different. He frowns.
“Really?” Naruko perks up, standing as tall as his frame will allow him.
“Yes, um, I, ah, also, like-”
“Wanna go out sometime?!” Naruko interrupts him eagerly. Onoda looks shaken, not sure what to do for a second when his attempt at answering is cut off. But he soon recovers.
“Yes!”
Imaizumi’s eyebrow reaches even greater heights. Frankly, he’s not sure why he’s standing there at all until he looks at their surroundings. Race. They’re at a race. Onoda won his first solo victory. And apparently, Naruko won his heart all in the same day. Imaizumi, however, has won nothing but the title of third wheel, and it’s about as rewarding as the role seems to be on television.
Regardless of that though, he is proud of Onoda. He has to let him know.
Stepping around Naruko, he touches Onoda’s shoulder fondly.
“Congratulations, Sakamichi.”
Onoda beams up at him like he’s said something amazing. Inwardly, Imaizumi thinks he is the amazing one. How can he not know that after all he’s accomplished? Doesn’t he know that Imaizumi wouldn’t feel such immense pride towards someone who didn’t deserve it?
He thinks all this as he smiles idly down at his friend, basking in the post-victory glow. Just behind the two of them, Naruko is smiling just as wide. For some of the same reasons, even.
Nothing is different. Yet.
Imaizumi grits his teeth.
It’s not easy to maintain when he’s breathing hard from exertion, his entire chest on fire. Letting go, he manages a jagged breath and then increases his rotations, pedaling with all the might he has left. His feet jerk the pedal around at a dizzying pace, and the gap between him and the one he’s chasing starts to diminish.
Sliding up in his saddle, he grabs ahold of his handlebars. Then he’s swaying his bicycle’s frame, back arching side to side along with it. The gap closes faster, and as he lines up with his opponent, he lets out another growl of a breath and surges even farther forward.
His gear clicks loudly as he changes it, and at last, he’s ahead. Behind him, he hears a resounding yell, but he keeps going. He keeps ahead. When they reach the peak, he’s in front.
It’s quiet there, considering present company. The two of them take a pit stop on the bench at the roadside, guzzling water and trying not to look in each other's direction.
Naruko is sitting on the exact opposite end of the bench, and Imaizumi can feel the frustration radiating off him like it’s something that can reach out and touch him. The competitive aura hasn’t worn off just yet.
He gets over it first.
Relaxing his shoulders, Imaizumi slumps back deeper into his seat. He closes his eyes and focuses on inhaling deep and slow. Even though it’s been several minutes, his heart still pounds like it’s trying to eject itself from his chest.
The training today was challenging. If he hadn’t gathered his second wind, he probably would have lost. To Naruko, on a hill. It’s disconcerting to imagine. Even though he knows Naruko has and is working toward being an all-rounder, knows he can climb in the right situation, it’s never been this close when they’ve raced on an uphill course. Too close.
He rifles around for his water bottle, opens it, and pours some of the lukewarm contents over his head. The water trickles through his hair and down his face, feeling fleeting on his burning skin, like it'll evaporate in seconds. The same can't be said for the sweat beading at his temples. But overall, Imaizumi feels calm, and sharply awake after the workout. That's always been one of the draws of exercise, of long bike rides with or without training partners. It's quiet, it lets him think, and tires him out in the only way that makes him feel strangely energized afterwards.
Still, there's plenty left to think about to take up some of that energy. First and foremost, how he could have been so lax in his solo training as to let Naruko catch up to him. He can't let that issue go unaddressed.
"Since when have you been faster than me on a climb?"
Naruko peers at him over his shoulder.
“Always,” he replies, deadpan.
Imaizumi’s eyes narrow. He stares at him for a long second.
“Be serious,” he says finally, biting back the urge to rise to the provocation.
Shifting around, Naruko pulls one of his legs up on the bench and faces him.
“Been doin’ a lot of training. Enough so I can leave all of ya in my dust. Onoda-kun’s been workin’ with me too. He kinda sucks at teachin’ but I can learn okay if I just watch what he does.”
Of course, Imaizumi thinks. It had to be Onoda he was getting this newfound skill from. Naruko has undoubtedly put in a heap ton of his own effort, but as for the source of his inspiration, that makes sense.
He grits his teeth, feeling something twist down deep in his gut. Releasing his jaw, he transitions into a barely there frown and isn’t sure why.
The two of them are together now. It’s only natural that they will be spending a lot of time in each other’s company. Both in and out of club activities. If he’d stopped to think of it, he probably could have drawn that conclusion himself, that Naruko and Onoda have been training together. On the few occasions he’s approached Onoda lately to ask if he wants to train with him, he’s backed off because it had seemed like Onoda already had plans. Now it’s clear who those plans were with.
He can’t be mad. It’s only natural. And yet, Imaizumi feels irked.
His rivalry with Naruko and him nearly beating him on a climb is a likely culprit as to why he feels frustrated, but it doesn’t feel like everything.
Besides, he’d had similar experiences with Naruko. Today is the first time he’s actually been free to accept Imaizumi’s offer of a match-up.
Imaizumi is loathe to admit it, but he enjoys cycling with him just as much as he does in Onoda’s company. They both provide different lessons and different chatter, but all of it is enjoyable. They’re both his friends, truly. Even if Naruko does have a penchant for riling him up that’s incredibly subversive when they’re competing.
"I see."
Not batting an eyelash at Imaizumi's toneless response, Naruko grabs for his bottle.
He drinks down a long gulp of water, going for what seems for several seconds. Imaizumi watches the tendons in his neck strain as he tips his head back, and then follows his hands as he lowers the bottle. As they go, Imaizumi's sight drifts down the expanse of Naruko's bunched up form. He's filled out lately, gaining muscle in his calves and thighs that gives them a bulk that was never there before. Naruko is still what Imaizumi would call small, but there's a noticeable difference. Not that he's trying to notice, but it's there.
Feeling somehow warmer, Imaizumi mops at the sweat on his forehead.
Then, Onoda's face flashes through the rest of his disjointed thoughts.
"How are... things?" he asks.
"What things?"
"You, and Onoda. That." He stops for a moment, feeling frustrated with his awkwardness. It should be simple, to ask about this. All he's wondering is if things are going well. They're both his friends, he cares. It's only natural that he checks in.
"What, us going out?" Naruko clarifies, looking at Imaizumi with one brow raised.
"Yes. Are you... happy? Is he?"
There, he thinks. That's really what he wants to know, most of all.
"'Course we are."
Naruko is smiling at him now, but it's a clever smile. One that says he's reading something into the question that may or may not be there. Imaizumi braces himself.
"What, are ya worried, Hotshot? About good old me? Does it keep you up at night, thinkin' 'Gee I wonder if Naruko-kun is doing well? He's my favorite rider and I want him to be happy with his special someone!'" Naruko continues, voice pitching high and sounding nothing like Imaizumi's voice. For some reason he sounds like a girl, which is probably the point Naruko is trying to make about him worrying. Somewhere in the midst of this crazy response, that is.
"My favorite cyclist is Kinjou-san," he fires back sharply, eyes narrowed to mere slivers.
"Calm down! It was just a joke. 'S no use gettin' all fired up at me." Naruko leans forward, still teasing but seeming a bit provoked himself. "What are ya, jealous or somethin'?"
Imaizumi's blood runs cold, and it's a shock to the system.
"That why you're askin'?"
"I'm-" he tries to answer, but can't. He feels frozen.
"Because I know we all haven't been spendin' heaps o' time together, like we did. But that's not somethin' I planned on either. Onoda-kun and I been havin our fun. Sorry if we kinda left you out of it."
Oh, of course, Imaizumi thinks, relief thawing out some of his frazzled nerves. Naruko means jealous of them not hanging out. As friends. Not as anything else. Because that at least, is a logical assumption for someone whose two best friends just started dating each other. That he'd feel left out. It makes complete, perfect sense. And it's not even that far off base from what he's really feeling.
A part of him disagrees, wondering if the assumption isn't missing something. What though, exactly?
Imaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his head.
Lately, he's been having more of these intrusive thoughts when he thinks about his friends. Or how they haven't been spending as much time together. Unwittingly, Naruko may have hit the nail on the head. Perhaps he is jealous, in the sense that he misses the way things were, and dislikes how they've changed. If that's what him being jealous means, then Naruko is correct. But he can't let him know that.
Not if the two of them are happy.
"It's fine." Imaizumi lets out a sigh, turning his face down to hide any traces of deception.
"You're not lonely the slightest bit?"
"No." He scoffs. "I wouldn't be."
"And you're fine with not training with us as much too?"
Imaizumi stiffens.
Since when did Naruko get so perceptive? He's always been persistent, but being intuitive on top of that is proving to be a deadly combination.
"I make do somehow."
Naruko barks out a laugh. "If you say so, Hotshot. Let me know if that ever changes. You know I'm ready to whoop your ass anytime!"
He can't help himself, so he jabs back. "Oh? Like you did today?"
"That was a fluke!"
"Or the last time we raced, on the flats no less...?"
"Another fluke!"
Imaizumi smirks, despite his misgivings. There might be a lot going on in his head that he doesn't understand, but he understands this bantering. It's the same as it's always been for Naruko and him, and that fact is comforting. When he's talking to him like this, it feels like they haven't spent a day apart.
Like nothing is different, even though now it is.