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It was a typical Thursday night at the local bowling alley. Mitsuru had once again scared off the Shiroiwa Senior's Bowling Club for what he demanded was "the Boss' favourite lane", though this time without any injuries to senior citizens or calls to the police. Kazuo had settled into his chair at the head of the small table next to the bowling lane, all manner of food and drink placed in front of him by Mitsuru remaining untouched as he absentmindedly kept track of their bowling scores in one of his many notebooks. Ryuhei had managed the threaten the tired concession employee into giving him one beer, which he was apparently feeling the effects of, his ball sliding straight into the gutter with a loud clunk from his clumsy throw. Sho laughed from his seat next to Kazuo as Ryuhei similarly wasted the rest of his chances, scowling at the other boy as if it were his fault he couldn't bowl. Kazuo noted Ryuhei's score and gestured to the next bowler with his pencil without looking up from the page.
Hiroshi was up. He slid out of his chair and made his way to the lane, his bowling shoes fitting loosely and uncomfortably as he walked. He prayed he wouldn't face-plant into the wood like last week, though it did give everyone else a good laugh. Sometimes, he thought that was the only reason they kept him around.
"Really fuck this one up, dude! Make me look good!" Ryuhei laughed cruelly as he passed Hiroshi to take his seat, giving his friend a firm, open-palmed slap on the ass before sitting down.
Hiroshi stood there for a moment, frozen in shame and excitement and about thirty-seven other feelings he didn't have the vocabulary to identify. Did Ryuhei just... slap his ass? Was he flirting? Was he trying to bully him, like usual? Was it both? Maybe Hiroshi was kind of into that? But he had never even considered it before! Why here? Why now? In front of everyone, no less! He hadn't been in a situation this embarassing since last week when Mitsuru had convinced him to shove all those raw eggs up his own ass and he died from the septic shock and internal bleeding!
"What the fuck are you doing?" Ryuhei spat, smashing through Hiroshi's racing thoughts and bringing him back to the present. "Throw the ball, you fuckin' donkey!"
"Uh, okay..." Hiroshi managed to stutter, clutching his bowling ball with shaking hands. Donkey? Was that a... pet name? That's flirting, right? He stole a side eyed glance at Sho, who usually made tellingly perverse facial expressions during these situations, but he was apparently busy eyeing up the poetically-depressed-looking concession clerk.
"You're wasting my time," Kazuo said plainly, the edge of his pencil tapping against the leather of his notebook as if he were impatient.
"You're wasting his time!" Mitsuru repeated with an angry vigor, his fingers gripping at the edges of his chair like it was all he could do not to snap Hiroshi's neck right there.
Mitsuru's threatening air only added to the intense discomfort he was feeling towards the ass-slapping, driving his walnut-sized brain into absolute overload. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, the bowling ball flew from his hands and straight into the air. It rose impressively high, capturing the attention of his four friends and a few of the more alert senior citizens in the bowling alley. As the ball seemed to hover in midair, Hiroshi had a single fleeting thought: what if Ryuhei was just being an asshole?
He didn't have time to ponder it any further, as gravity worked its magic on his stray bowling ball and it came crashing down - right into his thick skull. His friends looked on in horror at the sight before them: Hiroshi's limp body lying still on the polished wood with his skull split, brain matter and blood sticking to his matted dark hair. The bloodied ball rolled slowly rolling away, leaving a trail of blood, brains, and bone fragments in its wake. No one could bring themselves to speak, save for Kazuo, whose only question was, "how many points is that worth?"