Work Text:
Barely biting back a sigh, Seki runs a hand through his hair—the same hair that got him stuck with Hasegawa, who isn't exactly his first choice as company.
In a haunted house or, to be frank, in general.
Though, Hasegawa's actually a pretty likable guy. Steady. Easygoing. Hilariously blunt, but with the kind of unflappable honesty that's hard not to admire. The type who cuts to the heart of the matter, untangling complicated things until they're simple again, while everyone else is tripping over stray bits of string.
Yeah, he's a nice guy. Seki tossed bamboo in his bowl and got away with nothing more but a minor complaint. So there's no reason to dislike him, really.
Except it's not that easy, because his best friend—bless his awkward heart—finally opened up about what's bothering him, sort of, and Seki's secretly more relieved than he'll ever admit, because he was worried, damn it! Well, he's still worried, since it's Yamato after all, but that's okay. He won't pry. Waiting for Yamato to be comfortable enough to tell him is most important.
It's just... he thought he'd be the first to know. Not Hasegawa, who almost definitely had a hand in nudging Yamato forward, and Seki's kinda pathetically grateful, but kinda bitter too. Which is selfish, and dumb besides, but he can't be blamed for that, okay?! He was fine with being an open book, without expecting it in return. He really was.
Respecting boundaries is his thing. It is a truth universally acknowledged that Seki was raised to be courteous, mindful of where he steps, or when he adds too much ginger to his curry.
Above all, he trusts Yamato. Waiting is the least he can do, for someone so quiet, so guarded.
Still, the fleeting moments when he looks so distant, disturbingly desolate, like nothing can reach him... it scares Seki, sometimes. At first he suspected it was his home life, but the Yoshinaga family is warm, loyal, and made up of the kindest people he's ever met. He'd confirmed it over and over.
In the end, he had narrowed it down to the absence of Yamato's middle school friends, Shibata being the only exception. The itch was satisfied. He never mentioned it, of course. It wasn't his place to dig up old, possibly painful memories. Creating new ones, happy ones, was what Yamato needed.
And if Seki liked to pinch a certain someone's cheek, to bring him back to earth before he could float away forever, as silly as it was—that was none of anyone's business but his own.
Now, he's acting like a snotty brat who got his favorite toy taken. Anxious that he's getting replaced, that what he's doing isn't what Yamato needs. Hasegawa's not at fault, though Seki kinda wishes he was. These weird, nagging... feelings. Feelings are terrible. They just waltzed in like wood termites, leaving this—this ugly mess all over the place!
What's even more shameful is how transparently jealous he is, to the point it became breakroom gossip amongst the teachers... argh, it's really too shameful.
It took months to coax him—shy, tentative Yamato, brilliant at soccer and awful with people, who holds his breath like he's dying, starving for scraps of friendship he's too scared to ask for—out of his shell. Months. Long, careful months of politely rejected invitations. Pairing up with him during soccer drills. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Letting him have his space, but refusing to leave him alone. Journals crammed with class notes and jokes, to make him feel welcome, to make him laugh.
Seki doesn't regret a single second of it, since it's Yamato after all. Worth the effort and so much more, for all his flaws and secrets and weird ability to attract small animals. Even if Seki has to chase off birds nesting in Yamato's hair because he's napping on benches again.
Come to think of it, he has a lot of funny stories to share, and Hasegawa is a fresh set of ears... nah, not yet. That can wait until Seki gets to know him better.
Hasegawa Yuiji, who managed to befriend Yamato in less than a day.
What the hell, Yamato. Isn't this discrimination against your fellow common man? Hasegawa gets first-name basis in a heartbeat, but we've been friends for too long so it's, quote unquote, embarrassing. That doesn't make sense! There's an expiration date on this sort of thing?!
Deeper down, there's a teeny-tiny voice that is not whining, not at all, no sirree, but sounds like a little like this: I thought I was your number one.
"Oi, tell me. How did you and Yamato become friends?" Seki asks, leaning in to boost the intimidation factor. Show that he's serious, that he means business and Hasegawa should answer him right now, or else.
Wait, something's off. Who's supposed to be the delinquent-type here? Why does it feel like their roles got switched all of the sudden...
"Welcome back," Hasegawa deadpans, his face as blasé as ever, except for the minute twitch of his lips. That bastard, he's laughing at him! Then, adding insult to injury, he has the audacity to apologize to the haunted house employees. With a helpless what-can-you-do gesture and everything, like Seki is that annoying cousin you can tolerate at family dinners, but can't be seen with in public.
It's almost impressive how well he pulls that off, but as the victim, Seki is mostly offended.
A grinning girl, with Katasaki Haunted House sewn in crooked red letters on her t-shirt, waves it off. "No worries, we can always forgive cute daydreamers like you. As long as I get your—"
"Shut up. Paying customers deserve respect." Her friend shoves her out of the way and says, "Let's get down to business. No recording, photos, stealing, smoking, food, drinks, drugs, weapons, sex, fighting, dance-offs, property damage, unsecured items, or suing us if you have health issues. You signed up for this. If you attack one of ours, you'll pay monetary damages and get banned for life. If you piss yourself, that's not our fucking problem, but you can buy a pair of pants and pray for a pair of balls. Understood?"
"Uh, okay." He sends a sidelong glance to Hasegawa, mouthing, Was she like this the first time too?
Hasegawa gives him a commiserating pat on the back. No, you brought this upon yourself.
The grinning girl doesn't even falter. "It's so tragic. You could nab yourself a nice boyfriend if you didn't swear so much, Otoha-chan. No one wants to kiss a potty mouth."
"Good. I've got better things to do, unlike you," she snaps back, like it's an age-old argument. Like instinct. Childhood friends, if Seki had to guess. Or close as.
Squashing down a surge of envy, he can't help but think he's hopeless. Completely, utterly hopeless. Looks like he hasn't outgrown his clingy, insecure phase in middle school yet. First Hasegawa, now these practical strangers—he might as well campaign for the Green-Eyed Monster Olympics.
Or get mauled by a bear. Heroically, with explosions and electric guitar playing as he bleeds out on the grass.
He's busy envisioning his future showdown with the bear, so entering the haunted house doesn't even register until the door shuts behind them with an ominous click.
It's silent and pitch-dark and extremely, horrendously awkward.
"Relax. This isn't as awkward as you make it out to be," Hasegawa says, clearly amused. "I don't think I'm scarier than a haunted house. Probably."
"How could you tell?" Seki tries for indignant, but curiosity wins out instead.
"You're easy to read."
He snorts. Easy to read, sure, but in the dark? As if. "I can hardly see two steps in front of me, so unless you have night vision, I seriously doubt that."
"Don't need night vision." The lights flicker on, illuminating their surroundings briefly. Art gallery. Still portraits. Torn cloth. Pretty tame, for a haunted house. "You and Yamato are similar. People tend to mirror the habits of their friends, unconsciously or not."
"Huh. I haven't thought about it like that before." Seki pictures Yamato pinching his cheek as revenge for all the times he used his face as a stress ball. Actually, it's more surprising that it hasn't happened already.
The silence shifts to companionable. It's hard to remember why he disliked Hasegawa in the first place, until he opens his mouth.
"I never did answer your question." The delivery is matter-of-fact, but somehow it feels like he's poking fun at him. Watching his reactions. Seki should know, since he does it all the time.
Being on the other end is annoying, though.
"Shibata-san wanted me to help with math, and I needed help in English. The study group formed itself. That's how."
"I see."
The conversation ends there, because the macabre portraits come to life, holy shit, Seki did not need to know the human body could contort itself into an eldritch nightmare. Or scuttle on three limbs, giggling like a schoolgirl.
The kind of schoolgirl that binds cutesy storybooks with human skin and hosts tea parties with actual finger sandwiches. What the fuck. This isn't a haunted house, it's terror on fucking steroids!
They run through one, two, three doors until they can't hear footsteps anymore. The screech of a violin fades away, like the muffled sound of a corpse getting dragged against the ground. Seki shudders. Damn, these actors really don't play around.
"I think five years were shaved off from my lifespan just now," Hasegawa mutters.
"No kidding." Seki slumps against the wall, willing his heart to stop freaking out. "The makeup is too realistic. If I didn't know any better, I'd believe it was real."
"No wonder they warned us not to sue them." He wheezes, but not from running. Instead, he breaks out into laughter. "I didn't expect the headless one to throw a pig's head at us."
"Don't remind me. Did you see the old lady in the bloody kimono? With the giant centipede scarf and"—Seki mimics how she ripped off her face like it was paper—"the rotting flesh?"
Another laugh, louder this time. "Yeah, it was hard to miss."
Dusting himself off, Seki straightens and slaps him on the back. They're friends now, he decides. It was always inevitable. Hasegawa's a good guy, and good for Yamato. Simple as that.
"Alright, let's go." He gestures at Hasegawa to follow, making a beeline for the next door.
"You're going in the wrong direction."
Without missing a beat, he pivots on his heel and walks back. "I knew that."
"Sure."
Naturally, that's when the creepy giggling comes back. With friends.
Hasegawa may not be the one at fault, but in Seki's heart, he most definitely is. That's all that matters, really.
"Ah, the Dark Combo is back! How was it?"
Hasegawa, completely blank-faced, wraps his arms around himself like a frightened maiden. "KYAAA! He screamed as he grabbed me."
"No I didn't! Don't go making things up!" Seki shoves him, but it's half-hearted at best.
Well, mission accomplished. He learned a little more about Hasegawa today, like the fact that he is an absolute asshole.
In time, he'll learn more. About Hasegawa, about Yamato, about himself and the world that they live in. But that's for later. For now—
"Anyone up for some free shaved ice?"