Work Text:
#1
Eiji Okumura was transferred to his class in the middle of the semester. All Ash knew about this kid was that he came from Japan, he was an athlete of sorts, and that he dressed like the textbook definition of nerd, yet had the habit of sneaking those Japanese comic books under his desk during math.
When the teacher called some mispronounced version of his name, Eiji startled, his round eyes so painfully honest Ash couldn't help but smile, watching everything unfold with a cat's curiosity.
He was asked to solve a long equation on the board -most likely a passive aggresive revenge for not paying attention- and got stuck halfway, the back of his ears turning red as quiet giggling filled the classroom.
Eiji's eyes found their way to his, silently asking for help. Maybe because of his reputation as a know-it-all, or perhaps because he was one of the few not getting an absolute kick out of Eiji's suffering.
Ash was usually disdainful of people asking for “tutoring” or “help” with their assigments. That was usually a code word for trying to get him to do all their homework and get an easy A. It’d happened a few times, when he was still a little kid hiding behind Griffin’s legs. (Shorter said it was like that at some point, that kid was eaten by a wild cat, which put on a hoodie and showed up to school the next day.)
If it was anyone else, chances were Ash would have gone back to his notebook without paying any mind, but for some odd reason he didn’t feel that kind of distrust towards Eiji. A what you see is what you get kind of guy. That was Ash’s impression. And helping him out felt more like complicity than a task.
Just substract the two, he wanted to yell. Instead, as the teacher browsed for another equation to torture the next unassuming student, Ash drew an imaginary line with his index and held up two fingers.
Eiji’s eyes widened at first, his face later softening into the most earnest smile Ash had ever seen from anyone ever, let alone a high school boy.
Then he held up two fingers back at Ash in a fucking peace sign.
It remained Ash's favorite high school anecdote.
#2
"What's that comic you're reading?" Ash asked. Eiji answered him with a long Japanese name Ash totally butchered upon repeating. Granted, his broken Japanese was exaggerated a bit, only because it made Eiji laugh, and Eiji's laugh made him feel some type of way he was not fully ready to acknowledge.
"What about you?" Followed Eiji. "You're always in library. What do you read?"
Somewhere in the middle of his speech about García Marquez's literature, Eiji whispered a quiet, but loaded, "nerd."
A copy of A Hundred Years Of Solitude was used to smack Eiji's head.
#3
The three of them stood at the Chang Dai's back alley, the nicotine from Shorter's cigarette overriding the smell from the nearby trash bin. Upstairs, a neighbour blasted a Backstreet Boys playlist like it was 1996 again.
As Eiji leaned against the graffitti ridden wall with his pristine baby blue t-shirt, Ash had to wonder why the hell he decided to stick with them of all people. Their small group was mismatched at best with only Shorter and him: an extroverted, soft hearted Chinese punk with a purple mohawk; and a rebellious bookworm who kept mostly to himself. They had practically grown up together, and Ash wasn't a fan of letting people into their bubble (as Nadia had called it).
Spaces like this one, tight corners hidden inside the veins of New York, were temporary homes, secret places where they talked about everything or nothing at all, where they traded smokes and hell, even a kiss, one time, both of them too young and eager to find their own identity in a cookie cutter society (Shorter would never let him live it down). It was their own safe space, yet Eiji fit right into it as if he'd always belonged there. He and Shorter would teach each other curse words in their mother tongues, and he somehow got Ash hooked to a ridiculous shonen manga.
There was, perhaps, a seed of loneliness they all shared. It was hard to notice in the doe-eyed Japanese boy, but Ash could tell. He was warm and nurturing, quick-witted and optimistic, but rarely ever talked about himself, keeping prying questions at arm's lenght with a polite smile.
The middle aged lady upstairs started singing along to the top of her lungs when the song changed to I want it that way. A passionate 'shut the fuck up!!!' resonated from a nearby balcony. They stared at each other, and burst out laughing.
"Shit," Shorter started, stepping on his burned out cigarette. "You must really miss Japan."
Eiji, still wiping the tears left from laughter, shook his head with a thin smile that spoke too much of what he didn't (sometimes, Eiji reminded him of an old man).
"Feel right at home."
#4
"So you've never had a girlfriend?" They sat on an abandoned Volkswagen using Ash's jacket as a makeshift cloth for their improvised picnic, consisting of a supersized bucket of KFC. Even for two people it was clearly too much, yet they'd nearly reached the bottom while caught up in their conversation. "I don't believe it."
"I'm not lying. Why, you think I am good looking?" Eiji teased, and Ash's stomach felt funny. God, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep it up, this (less than) casual joking around. He didn't have the strenght to deny it, though, and so he frowned and gave a hearty bite to his chicken instead. Eiji took that as a yes.
"Well, have you had a girlfriend?" Eiji asked. "Nevermind... That is stupid question."
The underhanded compliment stole a smile from Ash. "I did."
"Of course you did..." Eiji scratched the back of his head. "What happened with her?"
Ash shrugged. "Told her I got my heart stolen by a good looking Japanese klutz."
Eiji elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm serious!"
They laughed, until they weren't anymore. The silence felt thick, more telling than anything either of them could have said to fill the white noise, to make the aching lighter. When Ash leaned closer, Eiji closed his eyes, welcoming him fully.
It felt natural, kissing Eiji. Like taking a leap and discovering flying was easy all along.
"I'm sorry..." Ash said, some of the anxiety slipping back as his feet touched firm groud again. Eiji wasn't like this, like him. "Eiji, I-"
Eiji shook his head. He was smiling. "Shut up," he whispered. "I'm happy."
Oh.
"Well... Fuck." Not the most eloquent he'd ever been, but who could blame him? His chest was bursting.
Eiji leaned against his shoulder and Ash put an arm around him, exploring their newfound closeness.
"Ash?"
"Hm?"
"Your lips tasted like friend chicken."
Ash kicked at his legs. "So did yours."
"You still liked it."
"Sue me."
#5
"Wait!! You two are an item now?" Shorter accusingly pointed his lollipop at them. They stared at each other, then back at Shorter in question. The only clue he had to even come to that conclusion was Eiji wearing Ash's denim jacket. Which wasn’t uncommon –apparently, Izumo was a fairly warm place, even entering the fall season.
"How the hell did you know?" Ash raised an eyebrow.
"Shit. What? I was just fucking with you."
Ash's ears went red, more so out of embarrassement after falling for Shorter's bait.
Eiji laughed. “He knew before you.” Confusion was imprinted all over Ash's face, and so he elaborated. “Before you kissed me, I was going to ask you out. So I asked Shorter advice.”
Ash went through so many emotions at once that he was deemed speechless for a moment. What stuck with him the most, though, was the knowledge that it hadn't been only him pining like an idiot for an entire school year.
“I was really surprised when you went for it before I say anything.”
Ash´s smile was fond. The wild-cat had taken a nap, and Shorter would surely remember to tease him about it. “I was really surprised you took Shorter’s advice,” he said. “Thought it was odd you’d go for KFC when you’re such a Martha Steward.”
Although the reference was lost on Eiji, he still gave Ash the finger.
“Fine. We’re getting natto next.”
“No way.”
Shorter grinned. “Sounds great, dude.”