Chapter Text
Thursday, 5:12 pm
Sawamura Eijun is running late.
He was banking on the fact that they were released early (So naturally, he has plenty of time to get to practice, right? But on the contrary, as Haruichi informs him through text, practice was apparently moved up).
He may have also forgotten that he’s assigned to class clean-up (which believe it or not, took more than thirty minutes, apparently it was payback for all the times he skipped and which Kanemaru-kun kindly ensures he will never forget again), and now he’s moving like a gushing stream desperate to arrive at the gym roughly thirty minutes away from Seido, fingers crossed, hoping the boss (Rai-chan, his coach) would let him off the hook just this once.
Ever since the gym specifically used by the gymnastics club mysteriously got half of its walls burned down, apparently due to a malfunctioning heating equipment (in the middle of vital preparations for the district prelims, inter-high competitions, and the junior championship at that, so forgive him for nursing spine-chilling thoughts of foul play), the school board frantically scoured the area for a replacement venue and decided to host the club in the nearest gym sizeable and well-furnished enough for their team’s needs.
Initially, the board had wanted to suspend participation in this year’s competitions but the OB and other sponsors were vehemently against the idea. The third years were especially horrified, so the club was profoundly grateful for their timely, sensitive, and prudent intervention.
The commute to the gym shaves off a significant amount of practice time, but Sawamura’s lucky enough to have his aunt’s house near the area so he wakes up really early to do most of his basic training in the mornings and utilize his afternoons to practice his routine for the competition under the boss’ stringent and verbally excruciating guidance.
The gym is about a block away and he’s mentally preparing himself for the barrage of invectives and wrestling moves upon his entrance, when he hears a sharp bark followed by a loud thump and a shrill hair-raising cry which causes him to freeze on the spot.
Walking slowly towards the intersection from where the incident seems to have transpired, he peeks behind a wall and sees a small kid plastered on the ground, almost dwarfed by the huge, lumpy knapsack (a tell-tale randoseru which means the child must be in elementary school) on his back.
Sawamura immediately jogs and helps the wailing kid off the ground (muttering platitudes, “It’s okay.”) dusting him off carefully before a trail of fresh blood trickles down the young boy’s nose and he yelps in horror.
He hurriedly and calmly (really, he’s calm) procures a pack of tissue from his bag and starts to wipe the questionable amalgam of snot, tears and blood off the boy’s face.
“Does it hurt anywhere?” He asks, rubbing the tissue against the boy’s face gingerly. Instead of answering, the kid blinks, suddenly clambers on him, and cries loudly.
“Onii-chan!”
The kid was clearly frightened and uneasy, so he embraces and pats him in comfort while staring at the culprit across the street--a large intimidating dog barking angrily and relentlessly behind the locked gates.
Sawamura, feeling indignant, shoots a glare at the unmerciful bully and sticks out a tongue.
“Come on, let’s get away from here.” He murmurs, taking him by the hand and walking away out of the dog’s sight.
When the dog finally stops barking, which seems to comfort the child, he looks over his newfound charge and catalogues the damage.
The little boy looks to be about four or five years old (although he could pass as a six year-old with a slightly smaller build), with chestnut brown hair sticking out on the back of his neck and made untidy by the sudden incident, his eyes a startling shade of green and a cute nose scrunched up in pain. Upon closer inspection, he has scraped knees and minimal abrasions on his arms and legs, probably a wound in his nose too judging from the nosebleed.
After asking the kid a couple of questions like his name, to which he answers promptly (albeit in a wobbly voice) eliciting praises from Sawamura (who coos how Kazumi-kun is such a smart boy), he introduces himself as Sawamura Eijun (“But you can call me Ei-chan, Kazumi-kun, for I see a deep and abiding friendship upon us!”) which had the kid in shaky giggles and a retort of “—I know you, silly,” to which a resounding “What?” is Sawamura’s response in his head plus a strategically raised eyebrow.
He looks at the kid suspiciously, wondering if the boy was messing with him but the cherubic face dispels any such notion.
Still hung-up on how in the world the kid apparently knows him but intent on first making sure that the kid gets home safely, he manages to successfully ask Kazumi-kun about his address, which wasn’t far from where they were, and decides to accompany him home (sighing and commending his soul to whatever deity could protect him from the wrath of his hot-tempered coach).
Sawamura, who eventually leaves the domain of acceptable tardiness and ventures dangerously to the territory of flagrantly undisciplined, shoots a text at Haruichi begging him to tell the boss that he has a good reason (good, angelic, points-for-heaven reason) for being late which he will disclose later.
On the short walk towards Kazumi-kun‘s (“Just call me Mikkun, Ei-chan!”) house, he learns that Mikkun’s papa works a lot and is always away except on the weekends, his mama is visiting his grandmamma and is supposed to come home today, and he has a very cool big brother who plays baseball (“—and do you play baseball Ei-chan?”) but sleeps in school at Seido (to which Sawamura chimes in, "Not really, but we're in the same school!"), the former notion apparently makes Mikkun a tad sad and the latter, really happy (“Then you get to see my nii-chan a lot!).
Sawamura thinks about how the boy apparently knows him, asks (nonchalantly, slyly) how Mikkun knows who he is and the young boy answers that he saw him on the picture at the wall.
He stops dead in his tracks (cold sweat trickling slowly down his back) and wonders in horror if he has a wanted poster anywhere
…or perhaps he was a missing person?
He sends an urgent text to his grandfather asking him if he kidnapped him in his birth for money or grudge against his real parents (and that's why someone’s currently posting pictures of his face out there, earnestly looking for him).
Mikkun tugs on his hand impatiently, asking a question (“Why don’t you play baseball?”) and Sawamura tells him that he used to play pitcher when he was just as small as Mikkun (to which he interjects “I’m not that small!” ) but that he does gymnastics now.
“What’s that?” Mikkun asks, head tilting to the side curiously.
Sawamura opens his mouth tentatively then closes it (head whirring while Omi, his teammate, speaks in his head telling him mockingly that he’s too stupid to tell anyone what he does) before settling on a simple, “It’s moving your body the way you want.”
(His phone pings as his grandpa (who is tech savvy for his age) meanwhile, replies:
are u on drugs? i’m coming to tokyo
Eijun groans.)
Mikkun, acceptably confused, looks at him curiously and urges him to explain more about this thing that Ei-chan does.
Instead of words though, Sawamura thinks gymnastics would be best conveyed if seen so he takes out his phone and shows him some clips of his routines. As expected, Mikkun looks visibly awed at the complicated sets of jumps, spins, and mid-air twirls while he preens under the adoration and quiet reverence, sporting twin circular blushes on his cheeks (“You might be cooler than nii-chan, Ei-chan!” to which Sawamura mentally sends a smug smirk and a superior laugh to wherever Mikkun’s brother might be).
They arrived at a stylish house, complete with a spacious front garden, a garage, and surrounded by a tasteful black gate.
Sawamura blinks and quietly thinks that Mikkun’s parents must be well-off as Mikkun raises his hands, palms up (a gesture that signals his desire for Sawamura to carry him) and he obliges, hefting Mikkun in his arms so that he can push the doorbell and speak to the intercom.
“Mama, I’m home and I’ve brought Ei-chan with me!”
His mother, no doubt alarmed at finding a stranger keeping her son company, swiftly comes out and opens the gate.
Mikkun’s mother is beautiful, garbed in what he suspects must be an expensive kimono covered by an apron, the same chestnut hair pulled in a sophisticated updo and identical green eyes which scans him warily before turning soft with undisguised affection as Mikkun wriggles to escape Sawamura’s hold and runs towards her arms.
His mom fusses over his unkempt appearance, asking anxiously about why the young boy is filled with wounds and why he didn’t stay at Hana’s house like mama specifically told him to. Mikkun bows his head in shame and murmurs that he saw a pretty cat along the street and followed it before he was attacked by a big dog.
Before the kid’s mom could get an aneurysm, Sawamura chimes in and says that Mikkun was startled when a large dog barked abruptly and fell down on the pavement, assuring his mother that the dog has not in any way harmed the boy and that it was, in fact, safely locked behind the house gate. His mother deflates in relief and delivers a mild scolding before kissing him tenderly on both of the young boy’s cheeks warning him not to disobey mama or he won’t be able to play with Hana anymore.
Patting Mikkun in the head, she stands and suddenly bows to him to convey her gratitude. Sawamura, flustered, bows in return while also waving his hands expressively (“This person thinks and feels that it was no problem at all!”) and spectacularly demonstrating how awkward he felt.
He might have imagined it but when he introduces himself as Sawamura Eijun, an odd glint appears in Mikkun’s mom’s eyes (“Just call me Kaori-san, please.”) and she smiles wide, unfeigned, and a tad amused.
Kaori-san happily invites him inside but he ruefully declines citing that he’s late for practice. Mikkun’s upper lip wobbles and he snags the hem of Sawamura’s uniform, unwilling to let him go.
Kaori-san coaxes the little boy to let go (“Ei-chan needs to practice Mikkun, like nii-chan you know.”) But Mikkun stubbornly holds on until Sawamura crouches in front of him and promises to see Mikkun soon (“Tomorrow?” He says hopefully. “Err, sorry young Mikkun probably not that soon.”).
Upon learning that it might be a while before they can see each other, the boy looks as if he’s seconds away from a meltdown so Sawamura gives him his Line ID and offers to send him clips of his routine like the ones he showed the boy earlier. Thrilled at the prospect, he successfully escapes from the clutches of the young boy, bows respectfully to Kaori-san before sprinting towards the gym where Rai-chan welcomes him with a horrifyingly sharp smile.
Sunday, 9:58 am
“You’ve twisted too early!”
“I said DON’T rush! Are you dumb?”
“Kick without dropping your shoulders, genius!”
“Tighten your body! What are you a limp noodle?”
Sawamura’s scream of frustration rings through the gym.
“You’re hurting my feelings, boss!”
Rai-chan glowers, “I’m your coach, am I supposed to just stand here when you blunder your way through the basics? You clearly suck and you should know it!”
The first years, unnerved at the display, cowers behind Haruichi who smiles at them reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, Rai-chan only does that to Eijun-kun.”
There’s a collective sigh of relief then a beat before a tall mousy first year tentatively asks, “That was the new moon salto, right? An E-level?”
Haruichi nods.
“Holy shit! But that clearly wasn’t basic, senpai!” Ori, another first year who acted and looked like Omi (because, technically he’s Omi’s younger brother) says.
“Maybe not, but Sawamura mastered that ages ago. So if he makes a mistake, Rai-chan has the right to ream his ass.” Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
Omi (a bubbly blonde-boy of middling height, sparkling eyes and teeth, potty mouth, forever happy) pops in the conversation, throws Haruichi a peace sign and sends a big flying kiss towards his brother who ducks, successfully eludes the flying kiss, wipes the imaginary sweat on his forehead and holds his chest in mock relief.
Haruichi smiles bitingly, eyes reduced to tiny slits. “You’re both idiots.”
“…Wait, is that the G-level Ri Jong Song?”
Omi laughs gaily, “I told you already! Sawamura’s a different kind of insane.”
Monday, 9:31 am
Sawamura Eijun is tired.
The boss had not been understanding when he arrived almost two hours late to practice last Thursday so she’s been grinding his ass until Sunday morning.
But as promised, he’s been sending pictures and videos to Mikkun via line (to which the young boy usually responds with “Ei-chan is so amazing!” and never fails to elicit a proud ‘Wahahahaha’ from him).
Haruichi had asked him if it wasn’t tiring to cater to the little boy, but he honestly doesn’t mind. Mikkun’s palpable fascination reminds him of his own feelings towards gymnastics when he was young.
Between breaks, Sawamura and Mikkun even send selfies of each other (it’s like having a boyfriend, really).
It’s morning break and he’s busy having a discourse with Nishino about shoujo manga.
He was in the middle of an impassioned speech about how Shouta Kazehaya is one of the best shoujo manga male lead to ever exist that he doesn’t notice the sudden hush that has fallen among the students of Class 2-B.
“—the fact that he admitted his faults, that he knows he can be selfish and controlling like all people have a tendency for speaks highly of his character. That he’s truthful and willing to--”
Nishino clamps her hand on Sawamura’s mouth to shut him up.
A brave girl tentatively clears her throat and asks in a sweet but shaky voice, “I-Is there anything you need, Miyuki-senpai?”
Sawamura turns towards the front and sees a guy with glasses, awkwardly standing on the door, left hand rubbing the back of his neck while his right hand holds something wrapped in a red cloth patterned with Sakura flowers.
Sawamura ignores him, of course. This awkward senpai’s business was clearly none of his.
“Erm, yeah,” he hesitates then continues. “Uh…Sawamura Eijun?”
Sawamura freezes on his seat as every eye in the classroom turns on him.
His own gaze wanders around his classmates who are looking at him—some with curiosity, others with suspicion. He tries to think about anything that may explain the reason why a senpai is looking for him but comes up blank.
His head whips back to the door and he desperately looks at glasses senpai.
“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” he pleads.
To further show his sincerity, he stands up, smacks a curled fist against his chest and stares unflinchingly at glasses senpai’s eyes. “I swear it on the Sawamura honor.”
Glasses senpai blinks at him once, twice--before bursting into a loud laugh that seems to shake the room and which did nothing to ease the tension.
It makes him even more rigid from where he stands.
“Oh my god! You’re weird.” He says laughing, (which--rude!) holding his stomach and wiping the corner of his eyes as he calms down, eyes twinkling. “But really, you didn’t do anything? Not even help my brother?”
Sawamura furrows his eyebrows, thinking--before his eyes widen and he gapes, “Oh!”
He feels as if he’s been struck with lightning. “You’re Mikkun’s nii-chan?”
“Uh…yeah.”
At the confirmation, Sawamura smiles brightly and skips over to glasses senpai. “For what reason do you need this Sawamura Eijun? I am entirely at your service.”
Nishino, whom Sawamura unceremoniously left behind, observes the scene and finds herself fascinated when Miyuki-senpai swallows nervously at those words.
She quirks an eyebrow, “Huh. Interesting. Very interesting.”