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The school song played solemnly over the loudspeaker - slower and in a slightly different key, in sad parting with the students that now held diplomas in their hands. It was a nice touch - one final joke to send off the graduating class as they continued to their University careers so they wouldn’t forget what it was to be a student of Shitenhouji where, “the one who laughs, wins.”
Actually, Zaizen wasn’t keen on the whole joking nature of the school, but he knew that his gaze was softer, the curl of his lip less severe, and the tension of his brow had eased in the company of his classmates and teammates at Shitenhouji. The last year had been tough, being captain of the tennis team without any of his senpai there to support him, but they had also scattered long before his graduation. Chitose returned to Kyushu to attend school at a small, private university that didn’t mind his abysmal attendance record. By some grace of God, both Shiraishi and Oshitari (as well as his very strange cousin) managed to get accepted into Handai. The Oshitaris were there for the very prestigious Osaka University Medical School. And no matter what Shiraishi had wanted to pursue in life, it was not long after he stepped foot on campus that he was noticed for his talents outside of tennis and academics.
Shiraishi was, simply put, a very pretty face. Zaizen knew he was selling him short, Shiraishi was also charismatic, smart, and hilarious (to everyone but Zaizen himself) and even if he had managed to finish his degree in performing arts before he was noticed, he would have been snatched up on his graduation day. It really hit Zaizen what a success his former captain had become when he sat down to watch TV with his family and there on the screen was Shiraishi as one of the guests on a variety show. His brother and sister-in-law both started chattering happily about seeing Kuranosuke-kun on TV, how wonderful it was, but something turned in Zaizen’s stomach seeing him up there like that. The easy smile, the whimsical way he ran his fingers through his hair, how everyone around him was laughing at his jokes - it was genuine. Too genuine. Idols weren’t supposed to be genuine.
He found himself becoming distracted during his routine social media updates, instead checking on blogs that followed Japanese idols to see if there was any new news on Shiraishi. He was seen with this other female idol - maybe they were dating? Big scandal. He was in a new photo book that had pictures of him mostly naked on a beach, there were scans online. He sang a song on a variety show a capella - did that mean he would have a single coming out? Shiraishi Kuranosuke, a university student studying theatre, was getting a major role in a stage play based on a BL manga by Nakamura Shungiku.
Though Kenya’s antics in university, updates from Chitose about his adventures, and even the constant flux of the relationship status officially listed between Konjiki and Hitouji on Facebook (everyone knew they were going to get married, so whatever) did give Zaizen the feeling like he was still connected to his senpai, Shiraishi remained out of his reach, somehow. A smile beyond a screen that he could touch with his fingers, but not feel the warmth of his skin.
Last spring, standing under the sakura like a scene in a romance manga, he had done just that - brushed his fingers over Shiraishi’s cheek in a fit of emotion he didn’t understand himself. The image of his captain’s patient smile, a curve of the lips and lazy eyelids, burned into his memory. He had managed to congratulate Shiraishi on his graduation, but not much else. He would never see Shiraishi in the Shitenhouji uniform again after that day. He wouldn’t have Shiraishi standing in front of him, glowing like the sun, encouraging everyone through a tough and effective practice.
Zaizen stopped, realizing his feet had led him to the same sakura tree. He let his hand fall to the side and looked up at its boughs. It would also be his last day in the uniform - Kin-chan was being left behind by the last of his dear senpai today. Feeling sorry for himself really wasn’t fair. His fingers tightened on the diploma in his hands as the negative thought spiraled around in his mind, gaining speed and clenching at his heart. He had his own way to catch up to his senpai - his YouTube channel was continuing to gain popularity and his blog had already gained so much attention that he needed a co-moderator just to keep up with the demand of the message boards. His face would be the cold screen that Shiraishi could touch but not feel.
Not realizing he was crying, Zaizen felt the warmth of a tear dripping off the edge of his jaw. He lifted his free hand to wipe the tears away angrily. Whatever these thoughts were, they were not meant for a time when he was supposed to be celebrating his graduation. He couldn’t go back to his family like he was then.
“Handkerchief,” a voice said behind him in the absolute worst English Zaizen had ever heard.
“It’s Handkerchief,” he corrected, turning to face the speaker.
His senpai, Shiraishi, stood before him with a hand extended. In his fingers was a handkerchief embroidered with a tiny green penguin and the letters, “S.K.” “Handkerchief,” Shiraishi repeated, not really saying it any better than the first time. Since Zaizen had stood under the tree with him last, he had become even taller, fuller in his shirt, and some of the baby fat in his face was now gone leaving behind beautifully angled features. The same handsome smile, the same patience in his eyes.
Senpai, Zaizen thought as he knocked Shiraishi’s hand away and wrapped his arms around him. Don’t leave me behind again.
“Hikaru,” Shiraishi chuckled softly and put his hand on top of Zaizen’s head. “Hikaru. Hikaru.”
Zaizen awoke abruptly with a gasp. It was still pitch black in the room, probably in the dead of the night after midnight. He let out a breath and turned his head to face the pillow beside his. Peaceful and smiling in his sleep, Shiraishi lay beside him. Tucked under Shiraishi’s chin was the latest stray that Shiraishi had taken in - their new pet calico cat that did not have a final name just yet. Shiraishi's hand curled around the edge of the pillow displayed the white gold band that he and Zaizen had exchanged as a promise to love one another. A promise until they were married.
Zaizen closed his eyes against the night. It was something between a dream and a memory - but he was not going to be left behind by Shiraishi - rather by Kuranosuke - again. He rolled on his side, displacing the cat, and got himself snuggled up against Shiraishi’s chest. He could feel Shiraishi’s soft breathing in his hair.
The truth of the sakura tree was much better than some horrible distorted memory that became a nightmare. He still remembered the grey sweater Shiraishi was wearing, the softness of his lips on his forehead, and the knowledge of the future that was beginning for them with Zaizen holding the diploma in hand.
“Hikaru,” Shiraishi had said, back then. His smile was always so bright, his hair immaculate despite the gentle breeze. “I love you.”
A warm smile met Zaizen’s lips and he settled in to sleep.