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Hori drops his head back against the headrest of his seat with a thunk and closes his eyes. As they drive further and further from the heart of the city he tries to lose himself in the rhythm of the coach. He sinks himself into the sounds and sensation of the engine, a deep, grinding purr beneath his feet, shaking his chair with each rumble and the steady turn of the wheels. By all accounts he should have been lulled off into a gentle doze by now. Everything would be, no, should be perfect were it not for the way Kashima keeps making his seat jolt every time she moves.
He had insisted she sit up front with him so he could keep an eye on her but he’s quickly starting to regret it. They’re—he cracks an eye open and uncrosses his arms just enough to check his watch—nearly twenty minutes into the trip and already he wants to strangle her. As if on cue, she rises a little out of her seat and the change in weight makes the chair tip backwards. Really, it’s a minuscule amount so small it would be barely noticeable if he wasn’t so aware of it. Each time she moves so does the back of his chair and she’s been fidgeting the whole time. She shifts again and his eyes snap open, ready to begin a tirade only for the words on the tip of his tongue to die when he finds that she’s leaning into his space, neck craned to see out the window.
“What the hell are you doing?” He shoves down hard on her shoulders to force her bodily back into her own seat.
Kashima looks affronted at his manhandling for the split second it takes him to do it and then turns to pouting. “Aww but Senpai, I wanted to see out the window. The trees are so pretty.”
Hori scowls back at her and resumes his previous position, crossing his arms so tightly that it makes his shoulders hike up. “Why can’t you see from there?”
“You’re in the way.” She says it so matter of factly that he’s amazed she can’t hear the absolute idiocy of her statement.
“I’m in the way?” He repeats, voice trailing up an octave in indignation, and uncrosses his arms again so he can gesture at the window, the movement more an exasperated flail of his hand than anything else. “The window is huge. Just sit still and be quiet.”
And with that he sits back, fixing her with his best ‘Kashima-do-as-you’re-told-or-so-help-me’ glare before shutting his eyes to block out her continued pouting.
It’s only a minute or two before the straight-backed, hands folded, eyes forward stillness devolves into twitchiness. First she tries twiddling her thumbs, then looking around as much as she can without turning her head. She traces the patterns on the upholstery of the chair in front of her, trying twice to count each dot and colourful zig-zag before she gives up on account of it making her eyes feel weird. Her legs cross, uncross and cross again indecisively. She stretches her arms out as far as she can, rolling her shoulders before dropping her hands back to her lap heavily. When her foot starts bouncing Hori opens his eyes again to glower at it.
“I thought I said sit still.”
“But I’m bored.” She responds, a whiny sing-song.
“Then entertain yourself.” He grits out through clenched teeth. “Run over your lines in your head.”
“That’s what the training camp is for, I can’t ruin it.” She says plainly.
Hori blinks at her and runs a hand over his face frustratedly. “How is that-” He takes a deep breath through his nose. “Nevermind.”
For the sake of his blood pressure he resumes his attempts to ignore her in the absence of further conversation. He’s just about managed to tune his ears back onto the hum of the engine, just audible under the excited chatter of the other students, when she prods his shoulder. “Play a game with me, Hori-senpai.”
“No.”
She huffs and goes quiet again. Good, he thinks, perhaps now he’ll be able to have a nap. But just as soon as he’s closed them, he’s opening his eyes again when he feels her twist in her seat to lean into the aisle “Hey, Mikoshiba! Play a game with me.” She shouts towards the back of the bus, pressing on immediately with no need for a response other than his noise of confusion. “I spy with my little eye.. Something beginning with S!”
Hori sputters and dives forward to yank her back around as she’s still talking, grip tight around her forearm and his other hand snaking up to press over her mouth. “What are you doing?” He hisses, “You’re going to bother everyone.”
“I wouldn’t need to if you played with me.” She says, smug grin audible even beneath his hand.
Hori looks at her in exasperated disbelief and Kashima just blinks back at him innocently even as he tries to sift through his options only to come up blank. Eventually he pulls back with a huff, wiping his hand on his trousers before he leans back into the corner between his seat and the window. “Fine. Is it seat?”
Triumph twinkles in her eyes and she grins wider. “No.” She ticks one finger up in the air.
Hori wrestles down his spike of irritation and narrows his eyes at their surroundings, scanning for anything within sight that could begin with S. “Sanda-san.” He tries, nodding at the girl in the row next to them.
“Nope.”She says, far too cheerful. Another finger goes up.
“Suitcase.”
“Yep.” She puts her hand down into her lap. “Your turn!”
He sighs and does another quick scan of the interior of the coach. From where he’s sat he can see very little, most of his field of vision taken up his and Kashima’s chairs, just a sea of seats and students. And the game isn’t really engaging enough for him to care enough to find something good, so he picks something arbitrarily. “Okay, F.”
Kashima twists around to glance behind her, almost instantly whipping back to face him. “Floor.”
“You got it. Great.” He says flatly. “We can stop now.”
She frowns at him. “You’re not very good at this, Senpai.”
“What?”
“You’re meant to pick something harder. Go again.” She’s unusually firm, watching him resolutely until he gives in.
“Okay, Okay. Uhh… H.”
Kashima grins at him like a cat that got the canary. Briefly he pictures slapping that stupid triumphant expression off her face but doesn’t want to cause a fuss, settling inside for grinding his back teeth together as he watches her look around. Every now and then her eyes will fixate on something, brows drawn together in consideration. Finally she seems to spot a likely candidate because she turns that pleased smirk onto him. “Handbag?”
“No.” He says and lifts a finger as she’d done.
“Hori-chan-senpai?”
“Huh?” Her expectant gaze riles him, each passing second that she doesn’t respond adding fuel to the fire. “What?”
“Is it right?” She tucks one leg up underneath her and rests her hands on her knee, fingers laced together.
“Is what right?” He frowns at her, trying to trace the line of the conversation backwards to a point where it made sense. When it clicks he has to fight the urge to choke her. “No. What? No. Why would that be right? I can’t see myself.”
Kashima’s pleased expression drops and she frowns right back at him, reaching out to grab his wrist. The suddenness of the movement catches him off guard enough that she manages to pull his hand between them both, right in front of his face. “You can! Look, see?”
Hori snatches his hand back and crosses his arms, hands tucked protectively in his armpits and heart pounding. “Well, it’s clearly a stupid answer. Why would I pick myself?” He spits, agitated.
She pouts at him and then turns her head away, making a pointed show of looking down the front of the bus instead of at him. Hori rolls his eyes and in turn makes sure she’s aware that he’s not at all bothered by angling himself to look out the window.
The city is long behind them now, the outside world reduced to trees flashing past and the gentle curve of the road ahead. Perhaps, he thinks as he watches the road markers go by, Kashima’s silly game wasn’t a complete waste. The more he stews on it, the more guilty he feels. Maybe he was a little harsh? He sneaks a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and finds her still sulking, chin tilted up in petulant defiance.
Awkwardly he clears his throat. “Uh, Kashima?” She cocks her head towards him but otherwise doesn’t respond. “We could play another game.”
The effect of his words is instantaneous; she whirls back to him, beaming so widely he’s not sure how it’s not painful. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure.” He turns his gaze back out the window, unable to stand the force of the pure glee in her eyes.
“Okay, okay!” She flaps her hands excitedly, “So there’s this game I’ve been playing with Seo-sensei and-”
“No.” He cuts her off, images flashing through his head of Seo and the sorts of games she plays. Kashima makes a noise of protest and taps his leg insistently until he turns back so she can look imploringly at him.
“You’ll be really good at it, Senpai. I bet you’ll win no problem.” Her attempts at flattery are so transparent it’s almost pitiful. She has to know that it won’t work. But yet he finds himself bending so easily under her pleading expression he’s almost disgusted with himself.
“Okay.” He says and sighs heavily. “What is it?”
For a moment he fears she might hug him. She doesn’t though, instead just throwing her arms up with a happy, wordless exclamation before she turns very serious and faces him. “Okay, Senpai, this is a glorious battle of life and death. “
Hori wonders if maybe this was a mistake.
“You put your hands together like this.” She places her palms flat against each other, extending her arms out a little so her fingers are pointing towards him. “And you have to try and hit the other person’s hands, when you miss it’s the other person’s turn. If you dodge at the wrong time you get a penalty.”
Hori shifts forward in his seat a little and mimics her posture, the tips of his fingers almost touching hers. “Like this?” He looks up from their hands and raises his eyebrows.
“Yep.” She nods approvingly, “I’ll go first. So you have to try and dodge.”
Hori hums an affirmation and nods. Almost as soon as he’s done it Kashima’s hand whips out and forwards, striking the back of his hand with a resounding smack. “Ow! What the-?” Hori pulls back and shakes his smarting hand loosely,
“You have to be fast.” She says sagely and then completely ruins her act by grinning like an idiot and wiggling her hands, still pressed together, from side-to-side at him tauntingly.
“Okay then.” Hori rolls his wrists and shifts in his seat so he’s at a better angle to beat her.
She waits for a heartbeat before striking, coming at him from the other side a split second before he jerks his hands up and back so she just clips the side of his hand. Kashima laughs lightly and waggles her hands again. “You’re actually not very good at this, Hori-chan-senpai.”
“I told you not to call me that.” He snaps, a little half-heartedly because he’s trying to focus on her hands, waiting for a telltale twitch or something to let him anticipate her attack. It works because this time when she comes for him he’s fast enough to avoid the slap and he barks out a sound halfway between a laugh and a triumphant shout.
“My turn then?” He asks and looks up to her face for confirmation. She nods and he readies himself, taking a deep breath before he strikes.
His hand meets thin air. He’d barely seen her hands move but yet there they were, held aloft and safely out of the way in front of her smirk. Hori scowls at her and hunches his shoulders, preparing for her turn. Another pair of successive strikes has him groaning in frustration and tucking his legs up under himself so he can sit cross-legged facing her.
Whip-quick she strikes from the right but anticipates it and just about dodges, claiming the right to seek revenge for his stinging hands. Immediately he swings his hand in a tight arc, as fast as he can, and hits her with a loud crack. Kashima cocks her head to the side and regards him with a twinkle in her eye that is a mix of fond and amused that would normally have him avoiding her gaze were he not so, unreasonably, pleased with himself.
Again he manages to hit her. He’s vaguely aware of people turning to look at them in his periphery, craning their necks to see what’s going on; the club members in the row behind are peering over the backs of their seats to get a better view but he doesn’t feel particularly inclined to tell them to sit back down. When he manages to clip her hands for the third time, he’s grinning wickedly, a delicious role reversal especially with how Kashima is now looking down with furrowed brows and focus.
He pauses to count a few seconds in his head, hoping that maybe if he waits just long enough he’ll throw her off and get in another hit. If he does then they’ll be tied for points. The start of a brilliant comeback, perhaps? Either way he cannot, in any circumstance, let her win otherwise she’ll lord it over his head the whole trip, stupid smug face and all. It makes him annoyed just thinking about it.
His plan backfires spectacularly. She dodges easily, retaliating the moment his hands are back in place to hit him square-on and hard. Hori growls in frustration and sets his shoulders in determination. When she strikes out again he dodges, starting a rally of near-misses and clear losses.
With each one his irritation grows, ultimately leading to a sloppy performance on his part. Something that Kashim takes immediate advantage of.
The sound when she slaps his hand rings much louder than he expected and Hori becomes suddenly very aware that, save the constant of the engine, the bus is entirely silent. Apprehensively he lifts his eyes from Kashima’s hands, past her face—watching him quizzically—to settle on the form of Tatsuno-sensei, the supervising teacher for the trip, watching them both with a raised eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
Kashima tilts her head back enough to see the top of his head, expression blanking out in the way he recognises from every time he scolds her. Hori winces and rubs the back of his neck with a reddened hand, hyper aware of the impropriety of their game. “We were playing a game, Sensei.”
Tatsuno-sensei regards him sternly over the top of his glasses. “You’re disrupting everyone. I had not expected this sort of behaviour from students your age.”
Hori drops his head into a sheepish bow, clenching his hands tight on his knees. “I’m very sorry, Sensei. We’ll do better.”
“Just sit properly and entertain yourselves quietly.” And with that he gives them each another warning glance and returns to his seat. As soon as his back is turned Hori is annoyed at himself. He let himself get carried away by Kashima’s silliness and now he’s put them both on thin ice for the trip, which jeopardises the status of the club as a whole.
He settles himself properly on his seat and turns to look out the window, determined to behave in a model fashion from here on out.
Kashima however seems to have other ideas. She leans close to him, her face coming level with his, one hand braced on his leg. For a moment he thinks she’s just making a bit of a show of looking out the window and is about to snap at her, quietly, when he sees her expression pull into an irritating smirk out of the corner of his eye.
“I won.”