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“I’m back.”
“Welcome back. You are early today!”
“Library’s closed. They found little holes in one of the old shelves out back, so now they’re spraying the whole place for woodworm. I’ll have to go back tomorrow to check out that book.”
“Oh, okay.”
Ash waltzed into the living room to find Eiji quietly watching the TV. He was curled on the couch, wearing a comfortable-looking T-shirt with some jogging bottoms, feet up with his knees bent, hugging one of the throw cushions to his chest. He’d got one of the sports channels on.
“What’re you watchin’?” he asked him. If it was baseball, he’d make himself scarce for a while. Even seeing the results of a game in the sports page of the newspaper gave him the chills, so he tried to avoid it where he could, but he wouldn’t deny Eiji the pleasure of watching one of Japan’s favourite sports just because of one nonce in his past. Thankfully, Eiji had very little interest in the game, preferring other sports instead.
“Athletics,” Eiji told him. “It is Olympic games.”
“Oh yeah – I forgot they were on!”
“How you forget something as important as Olympics?” Eiji frowned.
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a sporty person,” Ash said sarcastically.
“But it in all the papers? Big international event – America competing against world! They have won many golds already – it is front page news!”
“I’m busy doing more important stuff,” Ash shrugged. He’d seen some athletes on the front pages, sure, but he’d skipped straight to the meaty news stories he was interested in. “Sport doesn’t really concern me.”
Eiji had a weird expression on his face hearing that, something akin to guilt but also pain, like the words had stung him. He didn’t say anything though, and just returned to watching the screen.
It took Ash a second to realise that what he had just said hadn’t exactly been tactful, considering Eiji was a former athlete for whom sport had been his entire life. When he’d been unable to compete any more, he’d become severely depressed. Arriving in America, and meeting people who had life problems objectively far worse than his, had been simultaneously enlightening and disheartening for him, because now he felt bad about feeling sorry for himself when, as far as Ash could see, he’d had a perfectly legitimate reason for being upset. Even if his upbringing had been stable and comfortable compared to Ash and his gang, having your whole life and its purpose stripped away from you because of a tiny mishap would depress anyone!
Eiji had a lot of complexes about being useless or unhelpful because of this, always worrying that he was a burden and getting in the way, leeching resources or preventing Ash doing what he needed to, and Ash now essentially saying that his whole life’s efforts up to that point were ‘not important’ wouldn’t exactly help his ego. He sighed into the pillow and hugged it a little tighter as Ash joined him on the sofa.
“What event is it?” he asked, trying to act interested. He didn’t know diddly squat about athletics.
“There are several,” Eiji responded, “but today is pole vault final. I mainly watching for that.”
“Oh.”
Other events occurred between the pole vaulters. Ash watched a 400m sprint qualifier with several very fast ladies in tank tops racing around a track, then a big beefy guy swung a hammer around before they showed a pole vaulter – a slim Swede with cropped brunette hair – who easily cleared five metres.
“Jesus…” Ash said quietly, watching him sail over the bar effortlessly.
“Five metre is nothing. It pretty much just warm-up,” Eiji said. “He is world champion. His form is textbook and he been doing very well lately. I think he will manage six metre before competition ends.”
“What’s your best?” Ash asked him curiously.
“Five Eighty,” he said. “But not in competition. I never managed to get above five fifty when it mattered. Always got nervous. However, it was still enough to go professional in Asia. The Europeans and Americans nearly always have advantage in big international competition. Sometimes they have better resources or training available, and they are often taller which helps, but it is not always the rule and several Asian athletes do very well. Amongst Japanese competitors, I was one of the best in my age group before my accident. With another year or two of the right training, I may have beaten six metre too, but I have many limitations that would make it very difficult.”
They showed another couple of events; a leggy black man scored high on a triple jump only to have it discounted because he started his jump on a foul, and then another sprint race with yet more ladies in sports kit. They went back to the pole vault as a second man prepared for his jump. This time it was an Asian, a tall, muscular twenty-something, with cropped hair and a pointed face like a weasel. Seeing him, Eiji shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Ash read his name as it came up on screen.
“Mizuno Kazuhino,” he read out loud. “Hey – he’s Japanese!”
“Yeah…” Eiji murmured. He buried his face in the cushion he was holding so just his eyes peered over the top. He watched wistfully as Mizuno adjusted his grip on the pole and rocked back and forth on his heels, feeling the weight and preparing for his sprint. His form was perfect as he jogged up, planted the end, and catapulted himself into the air. He cleared the bar with room to spare.
“He’s pretty good,” Ash said, impressed.
“Hmm.”
“That’s good for Japan, right? If he’s good, you guys may get a medal!”
“Hmm…”
“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy?”
“I am, but…”
“But what?”
“It is Mizuno.”
“Huh?”
“It is Mizuno,” he repeated, shrugging slightly, as if that explained everything.
“Wait…? Do you know him personally?” Ash asked him, frowning as he gestured at Mizuno on screen, now chatting to his trainer and sipping energy drink from a sports bottle. “Is he an asshole or something?”
“No! Nothing like that… Not really… Although… <He could be a bit of a dick, but that was just his personality… Like a certain someone else I know…> Ano… Mizuno is good person,” Eiji assured him. “I want him to do well. I am happy for him, but…”
“But what?”
“It could have been me.”
“…Oh.”
“Mizuno has been my rival since middle school,” he murmured. “We saw each other at every competition, and we were equal right up until Junior year, then he had growth spurt and after that… Mizuno start winning every event. Around same time, my father became ill, and I seemed to hit wall I could not get over. Mizuno got better and better, while I stayed the same or worse. I began to push self, trying to beat him, but I always at disadvantage. Pole vault very cruel sport – your limit already set by your size. Does not matter how much you practice, that will not make you magically grow. I am short for athlete, so I have to use technique to win, and there only so far that can take you. So, I made sure to practice technique to get it perfect. I practice every day – practice too much, my coach tell me. I lost passion and it became obsession instead. Then one day I had some bad news, so my thoughts were elsewhere and I was very tired, but I still go to practice and… I mess up. That was day I got injury. After that, I could not jump anymore.”
“Was the injury really that bad?”
“I damage some ligaments in my ankle,” he said. “It put me out of commission for several month. With physio, I could have maybe jumped professionally again, but I had lost all love for the sport. Flying was no longer freedom for me, but it was all I had. I was scared, not because I may get injured again, but because without pole vault what use was I? Even with pole vault, I start to see no future in it for me. It was difficult, realising you are no good at one thing you are good at.”
Ash couldn’t relate very well. He’d always been good at the things he was good at, not that he was especially proud of that aspect of himself. People tended to cling to his talents and abuse them. Also, from his perspective, Eiji was good at many things – things he, Ash Lynx the genius, was really bad at! Eiji was the type who needed to see his achievements to believe them though, and empathy and kindness are not exactly tangible qualities.
“It was not until Ibe-san give me opportunity and start teaching me about photography that I found new passion, and I am happy now. But I still have feeling of ‘what if’. What if I was not scared, and I jumped again? What if I had beaten Mizuno? Would I be at Olympics now? More importantly, would I be happy if I was?”
“It’s pointless dwelling on the past,” Ash said, this time speaking from experience. “What’s done is done, and you can’t change that now.”
“I know…”
“Besides – athletes usually retire by their early thirties anyway, if they don’t get injured beforehand. It’s not exactly a life-long career. Even if you had made it as an athlete, you’d be scrabbling around looking for a day job as an adult with no other life skills on a CV besides sport.”
“Hmm…” Eiji returned to smothering himself in the pillow, watching disinterestedly as another triple jumper broke his own record and was now jumping up and down besides the sand pit screaming.
‘Yep,’ thought Ash, as he saw he’d somehow made the mood situation worse. ‘I, Aslan Callenreese, am a dumbass prodigy with no tact.’
*
In the end, Mizuno didn’t win any medals. He failed to clear five metres sixty, and finished in eighth place. The world champion Swede Eiji predicted would beat six metres did indeed manage to clear an unfathomable height to take the gold. He made a short victory lap holding up his country’s flag so it streamed behind him like a cape, a huge smile on his face as photographers snapped him for the papers. Medals were awarded, and he faced the cameras directly as he pretended to bite the gold for authenticity. Eiji stood and went to the kitchen afterwards to make a start on dinner. He was worryingly quiet for the rest of the evening, and went to bed early even for him.
*
Two days later, Ash found the perfect present to cheer Eiji up with while he was wandering the streets of New York. A sweet shop had a display in the window of global sweets and sports-related candy, riding on the advertising coattails of the Olympics.
With a sudden burst of inspiration, he went in, marched over to the counter, and requested one of the items he had seen in the window. The friendly lady in an apron had smiled and nodded happily as she pulled a pristine box off the shelves and bagged it up for him.
Next, he went into a florist and brought a small bunch of flowers. He’d asked them if they knew what flowers the athletes had been given at the games – he lied and said he thought they looked nice – so they made him a bouquet of bright dwarf sunflowers, blue victory gentians, Solomon’s seals, eustomas, and aspidistras leaves.
He had difficulty finding another item.
American flags are two a penny and easily found all over the city. You could barely go two paces without being assaulted by the stars and stripes in some form or another, and it was easy enough to buy a cheap polyester flag in a dollar store, but finding the flags of another nation proved to be much harder. You’d occasionally see Italian, Mexican, or Irish flags hanging out of apartment windows several stories up; most likely they were sent from family back in their ancestral nations, or else they’d purchased them on the internet, because generally speaking there were not world flag stores on the high street. He could probably find the flags of China, Hong Kong, and Macau in Chinatown, but the ‘Hinomaru’ wasn’t all that common outside of Japan.
He eventually procured one, albeit a small one, at the Japan Society. When he’d explained why he needed a flag, they’d gifted him one of the decorative little silk flags they had sat on the front desk. It was adequate for his needs, and he was grateful to them.
His last stop was a toy store, where he contemplated the small stuffed animals for a long while. They didn’t have the exact animal he was looking for, at least not as a toy small enough (the Steiff-branded lynx was both too expensive and way too large), so instead he found himself debating between a tiny lion with a fluffy mane and a spotty leopard with a long tail. He eventually picked the leopard, thinking it’s face was cuter than the lion, which was boss-eyed and cheap-looking.
Items obtained, he made his way back to the apartment, smiling inside at his own genius.
“Hey Chris – nice flowers!” the doorman greeted him as he returned. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Heh, nah. No lady for me,” Ash told him. “I got them for our houseboy – he’s been feeling a little bummed out recently, so I’m trying to cheer him up!”
“Well, Eiji’s a nice boy – I’m sure he’ll love them.”
“I hope so!”
“Take care, Chris,”
“You too.”
He felt himself getting excited and nervous as he rode the elevator up to their floor. He was convinced this would cheer Eiji up, but… what if it didn’t?
It had been so long since Ash had needed to make a kind gesture of this sort to someone else – he’d been four years old, and had brought his brother a handful of wild daisies and a picture made up of his own handprints that Jennifer had helped him make while Griff was at school – that he wondered if he was doing the right thing, or if maybe he was going overboard here. Plus, while he was shrewd and perceptive with savoir-faire in many situations others would flounder in, he wasn’t exactly known for his sensitivity when it came to personal relationships, not that he had many of them. He’d always been ‘the boss’ rather than a friend or otherwise, and any similar favour done to him was to pay for something sexual or violent or both.
He began to doubt himself, overthinking wildly, worrying that a gesture he thought of as nice may actually be blindly insensitive, and could easily make things worse. What if it just reminded him of the past? What if Eiji felt like Ash was mocking him or something?
“How is Eiji so fucking good at doing things like this?” he mumbled, thinking of all the little things Eiji did for him to cheer him up when he was down.
Eiji never did anything big or showy; he seemed to specialise in small, meaningful things, like buying or making a certain food because he knew he liked it when he’d had a bad day, or bringing him a cup of tea or cocoa when he was ranting and pacing the apartment in annoyance, or just being a soothing presence when he was anxious, listening quietly and expecting nothing from him. He’d brought him a new scarf when the weather changed, and a leather bookmark with a cat embossed onto it for his birthday, even if it was two months late. He was very good at reading moods and social cues, then would either cheer him up or calm him down, naturally knowing the right words to say, the right times to joke around and to tease him, and the right times to be gentle and patient.
Best not to think too deeply into these things, Ash thought. Give the gifts, smile the smile, and it can go one of two ways; it either works a charm, or else he’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight. Eiji had been through worse with him before – he’d forgive him eventually if this all blew up in his face. Right?
He entered his apartment with more than a little bit of trepidation.
“Eiji… I’m back!”
He didn’t get any reply, but he could hear water running from the bathroom. Eiji was taking a shower. Good – that meant he could set up his surprise better! He’d have to be quick though; Eiji showered fast, and Ash had no idea when he’d started bathing, so he could finish up and come out at any moment.
He kicked off his shoes at the door, peeling them from his feet using his toes, and tiptoed to the kitchen in his socks. There he found the wooden serving tray they used for coffee and snacks, and he arranged the flowers (which he’d pre-tied the small leopard to with an elastic band) and the contents of the box from the candy store on it.
He heard the water turn off, indicating Eiji was finished with his shower. He slid the tray and its goodies into one of the kitchen cupboards to hide it. Then he picked up the small step stool Eiji used to reach the high shelves with and moved it to the middle of the floor in a prominent location.
He was scrolling through his phone, sat at the kitchen table and trying to look idle, when Eiji left the bathroom, his hair damp but already fluffing up as he roughly dried it with a towel. He’d got an oversized and misshapen Norinori bird shirt on, this one a pale blue shade, with a pair of black jogging bottoms (the same pair from the other afternoon) and some fluffy slippers on bare feet, looking both slovenly and cute at the same time.
“Hi,” Ash said, looking up from his phone.
“Ash! I not hear you get back!” he said, flinching slightly seeing him sat at the table.
“I’m sneaky,” he replied, smirking slightly. “Come here a sec, would ya?”
Eiji obeyed, although he did frown slightly when he noticed the step-stool in the middle of the floor and not stowed away in the corner by the sink like usual.
“Why is stool out?” he asked curiously.
“Stand on it,” Ash told him.
<”What?”>
“Stand on it,” Ash repeated. “Please?”
“Why?”
“Humour me.”
Looking very confused, Eiji stepped up onto it. The minute he did, Ash pressed the screen of his phone and some generic classical music started playing.
“What are you doing?” Eiji asked him. He went to step down, but Ash stopped him.
“Stay there!” he practically barked, inadvertently using his 'Boss' voice on him. Eiji froze.
“Okay…” he muttered, now looking a little startled as well as confused.
“Sorry… Just… Stay there for a bit, ‘kay?”
“I stay, but… What for?” He followed Ash with his eyes as he stood and went to retrieve the tray from the cupboard and brought it over to him. They widened in surprise as he saw what was on the tray. “Ash…? What is that?”
“For your exemplary achievements at being thoughtful, kind, helpful, cute as hell, and being a right little shit at times too, I present to you, Okumura Eiji, representing Japan, the coveted gold medal!”
“What event did I win?” Eiji asked him. “Because you cannot just receive medal for nothing!”
“Boyfriending?”
“Yes… With you, that is extreme sport…” Eiji nodded. “Probably more exhausting than pole vault sometimes! I deserve medal!”
“Oh, fuck you!” Ash said, without rancour. “I’m thinking twice about giving you this now.”
“No! I sorry! You know I not mean it!”
“Oh?”
“It very rewarding sport!”
“Good. You should be proud of your achievements in it!” Ash put the tray down on the kitchen table and picked up the medal he’d brought at the sweet shop. Holding it by the ribbon, a dark blue loop attached to the foil disc of the heavy medal itself, he beckoned for Eiji to stoop down so he could place it round his neck. He then presented him with the flowers, grinning as he saw Eiji was smiling broadly at him. “Congratulations!”
“Ah! <Cute!> There is even mascot on the flowers!” Eiji said happily, giggling when he saw the leopard. “Just like Olympics!”
“Please stand for the national anthem of Japan…” Ash said, flicking his finger over his phone screen to change the song. ‘Kimi Ga Yo’ started playing, and he pulled the small flag he’d procured at the Japan Society from the back pocket of his jeans and unfurled it.
“Are you seriously doing this?” Eiji asked him, trying to control his giggles.
“Shh! It’s a national anthem! Show some respect for the nation!” he chided.
“It my nation, Ash…”
“Erm… Imagine this is on a flag pole being raised up,” Ash said sheepishly, slowly lifting the flag higher in his hand, his arm above his head.
<”Oh my god!”> Eiji gave up trying to hide his laughter. “That is… funniest thing… I see in… very long time!”
“You know, most winners cry on the podium,” Ash said, looking a little miffed as he held the flag up high.
“I am crying! See? There are tears! I cry with laughter!”
The national anthem finished playing abruptly in the background.
“Jeez, that was short,” Ash commented, lowering the flag. “Star Spangled Banner seems to go on for ages sometimes!”
“Japanese anthem very short,” Eiji said, still tittering and wiping at his eyes. “Sorry I laugh! It just… you… holding flag… <It was so cheesy I couldn’t help it!”>
“Nah, don’t apologise,” Ash shrugged. “It’s nice to see you laugh again! You’ve hardly smiled at all since that Mizuno-prick was on – I was getting worried! I thought… I kinda thought I might have said something hurtful without meaning to the other day.”
“What? No! You say nothing bad, Ash. I sorry if I worry you. I am okay, but I have had many thing on mind recently. My life change a lot in last two years, but in most respect it change for better. I like photography – I want to be like Ibe-san and take photos of all kinds of people and places! I want to show people both the dark and the light of the world, and how both can be beautiful! Maybe I can no longer pole vault, and that does make me sad, but if I had not had accident, Ibe-san would never have brought me to New York, and I would not be here with you today. While I will always wonder what if, it not matter that I not at Olympics, because life decided I need be somewhere better. Plus, I have something Mizuno does not and probably will never have!”
“A whore boyfriend?”
“No. Stop calling self that!”
“What then?”
“Gold medal!” he said happily, holding up the aforementioned item. “Mizuno is good, but, if being realistic, he never going to win gold against European athletes. Duplantis and Lauvillenie wipe floor with him, and he will never be as well-known or popular as Sergey Bubka was!”
“I bet he wouldn’t be brave enough to use a rusted drainpipe to clear a wall with no crash mat on the other side either…” Ash said, nodding slightly.
“That maybe not proudest moment,” Eiji admitted. “It was dumb thing to do and I was panicking! Also, it was only four metres, and glass bottles very painful to land on! Do not recommend!”
“I dunno,” Ash told him seriously. “You might have been acting recklessly, but I was very proud of you at that moment! Also jealous. And kinda turned on - it was very hot!” At this, Eiji blushed slightly, his cheeks colouring a delicate rose pink.
“Can I get down off stool now?” he asked, changing the subject.
“No – I gotta get a photo of you first!” Ash told him, picking up his phone and opening the camera app. “All medal winners get papped, right? You’re no exception.”
<”This is very embarrassing…”>
“I’m guessing you just said something about being embarrassed, right?”
“Hmph!”
“You’re always taking photos of me! C’mon! One photo!”
“Alright…” He started to hold up the medal and the flowers, but paused as a mischievous twinkle lit up his eyes. “Oh! I have idea!” He picked at the gold foil covering of the medal to reveal the dark chocolate underneath it, pulling enough of it back to unwrap a decent chunk. He posed for a photo in the same manner as the athletes on the TV had done, teeth poised over the chocolate to take a bite. Ash laughed and snapped a couple of photos of him, before he then bit the medal for real, chewing the chocolate thoughtfully. “Why American chocolate like sweet wax?” he asked rhetorically. “America good at making many thing, but chocolate not really one of them!”
“Nobody is forcing you to eat it,” Ash told him.
“But victory taste so sweet!” he whined, pouting slightly. He snapped the medal in two, ripping the foil and holding a large semi-circle of chocolate out for Ash. “Here – share in victory with me! This not an individual sport – I cannot be medal winner without you! Joint effort!”
“I got that for you…”
“Just eat it!”
Ash accepted the piece of chocolate, and nibbled at the edge of it.
“Urgh! It’s all cheap and powdery!” he declared, scrunching up his nose, but he took another bite regardless. “Why can’t I stop eating it?”
“Because competitive victory hollow but addictive,” Eiji said wisely, stepping down off the stool. He tapped Ash lightly on the arm in an affectionate way. “Thank you… For this. It really cheer me up a lot! And it probably most important prize I ever win! Even if just cheap chocolate medal.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Eiji picked up the tiny flag from the table, examining it and trying not to laugh. “Best bit was you with flag!” he tittered. “So funny!”
“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” Ash countered, face colouring. “Let us never speak of that again!”
“I not sure where you got small flag, but…” He held it up and jogged off with it, circling the living area, trotting around the couch and coffee table, coming back to the kitchen and rounding the table.
“What are you doing?” Ash asked him.
“Victory lap!” he beamed. “All winners need do victory lap with flag of nation, yes?”
“And you called me embarrassing!” Ash snorted, shaking his head.