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When the kick drum gets so loud he feels as though he doesn't have a heart anymore, Ukai starts to think that he may be made a bad choice in standing so close to the mosh pit.
In a flash, he’s tossed about in the circle, trying to get out of the way of kids throwing fists, and ends just crossing his arms over his chest and getting ricocheted between dozens of bodies. The music gets louder and everyone around him keeps smiling like mad, like they all enjoy getting pushed around and smacking into everyone else around them, and the world spins. His own laugh surprises him as it bubbles up from his chest, and he is blown full force into the crowd, its all hands on his back and he gets thrown back into the fray.
Does this happen every time!? he thinks, his mind jumbled as he hits another person in the curve of their shoulder, bouncing like an atom in the universe. when does it stop? When do we decided that we're not gonna crash into each other anymore?!
The bassist forcefully picks at his strings with a pulsing rhythm, shaking Ukai’s whole rib cage, and it feels like everyone in the room is way more in the know on the situation. Ukai thinks, not for the first time tonight, of how he ended up here.
Earlier, before the mosh pit and the howling voice of the punk singer, he was hanging out with his teammates and practicing receives. His mind running a mile a minute, planning and mapping out moves like playing chess, his arms burning from so much contact. On the court, he’s one step ahead of everyone, and in this one place, he knows what he can control.
While rising off the sweat from his shaved head a few of his teammates crowded around and talked about what to do afterward, someone pulls out their clunky phone and begins to read out text messages, and they all look at him.
do you have anything to do? they asked him, and he shakes his head. Everyone smiles loudly at him then do you want to go to a show with us?
Ukai had no idea what they meant until they all rode on their bikes to a secluded street with large storehouses, probably owned by the business nearby, as the sun sets behind them. Voices bounced around them, all kids and adults in their twenties and thirties, crowding around a warehouse gate half rolled up.
“Where do we put our bikes?” Ukai half shouts to his teammates, most had already ridden ahead of him.
“Just lock them up along the side of the building! So we can grab them in case anything happens!” one of them shouts back
In case something happens? What does that mean!? he shouts in his mind, but he copies them as they clip their bikes to an electric pole outside the building, and files after them.
Ukai’s mind spins but he slowly bumps his way out of the mosh pit and stumbles under the half-opened gate, the humidity from inside blasts like an oven into the cool night air.
He’s breathing hard and stares at the stars above, his ears ring from the music while his heart vibrates with the bass line. Sweat drips off his body but he doesn't know if it's his or the crowds, he must look like he ran a marathon, everything is buzzing like the sweet summer night. surprisingly when he focuses on the sole patch of stars above every part of him races with excitement, almost energized, straight from the mosh pit still raging inside. He looks over to his right and almost jumps out of his skin.
There is a tiny man, maybe a kid? , with bright blue hair that curls out and above his head. He stands in a studded jean jacket and a tore up shirt, busted up shoes that have definitely seen better days, and he looks at him over the smoke from his cigarette. The eyes behind his black Malcolm X glasses are surprised and soft, hands cupping around the lit object to protect it from a rare wind gust.
Is that eyeliner? Ukai thinks staring at this blue exclamation point in front of him, a rolling drive from the drums inside begins.
“Uh.” Ukai says intelligibly. He is so much taller than this guy and feels like he’s staring him down.
“Hello” Blue boy smiles around his cigarette “Is it really hot in there?” The Electric guitar behind them squeals with fuzz, Ukai’s body pretends that the buzz is from the music.
Ukai turns to face him fully, his hands go into his pockets instinctively, and he doesn't know how to smile in a way that's not awkward but tries anyway
“Uh, Yeah it's really hot? And crowded…” he forces out, /oh god he thinks I’m weird/
“Yeah.” He smiles up at Ukai, taking a drag, his lips are soft looking.
Ukai looks at his shoulder and tries not to drift into anywhere else.
“Is this your first time?” The blue boy asks in a brighter tone
Ukai sputters, oh my god, this is the worst, and snaps back to his face “Do you mean the show?” he asks quickly
Blue boy nervously spouts back “Oh, Oh my god yeah! That's what I meant!” his face is burning, and Ukai starts to laugh a little. His fear of him dissipating into the air and smiles easily.
“Yeah it is, I don't even know whats going on.” he huffs “why do you all bang into each other like that?” and Blue boy smiles at him while taking another drag.
“Part of the feeling, mostly because we want to” and he looks at him with delight “I love this music. I love playing it.”
“You play music?!” Ukai subconsciously steps a little closer “what do you play?” the singer inside the grody warehouse starts a low roar that wraps around them, This Doraemon boy’s cigarette burns down between his teeth and he looks up into this tall curious boy’s eyes with wonder. Ukai’s heart thumps and the smoke just wraps around him like a dusted frame, looking like he’s in the middle of an important volleyball match. Later, when he wakes up at four-in-the-goddamn morning to be in the fields, his pillow smells like cigarettes.
The shorter boy smiles wide, his lip piercing curves and catches Ukai’s eyes, and starts to gesture loudly and excitedly.
“I play bass in a band with my friends! Were pretty good! Were called “Hell Boys” with or without the ‘The’ but I don't really like the name, it can always be better, I mean I wanted to call us ‘Death Killer’ but everyone said that the name is too corny!” his hands wave about wildly, voice rising above the loud music inside, and Ukai is so enthralled he doesn't see another punk come walking up to them out of the dark.
“Take-Chan” a rougher voice calls from behind them, making both of them jump out of their skins. “Were on in like, 5 minutes”
That's, a lot of metal in his face Ukai thinks. Whose Take-chan?
“Yeah, I hear you” Blue popsicle calls around the tall boy, dropping the butt of his cigarette into the concrete, and starts to follow the punk into the shadows.
He turns to Ukai, the street light illuminates him so brightly it feels like the day, and smiles “what's your name, by the way?”
Ukai stutters, blinded by him, and shouts at him
“Ukai!” and he smiles large “Just call me Ukai.”
He walks into the shadows, one hand up in a wave, and pads away.
Ukai stands in the middle of the sidewalk, the speakers blare out a screeching final note from a song, the air cools outside but he doesn't notice.
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