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Silence? What is this silence? They weren't used to silence. They were, however, used to a low grumbling, a voice of annoyance on the other side of the door yelling something along the lines of ‘I’m fucking coming, stop ringing the damn doorbell,’ or ‘it’s the fucking kid comin’ here again, unannounced, as per usual,’ — but no, not this time. No grumbling, no yelling — just complete… silence. Somewhat confused, unsure of what to do, they step back and stare at the door for a few seconds, muttering under their breath, “Arakita-san isn’t home. Kinjou-san isn’t in there either. This is odd…”
With a few glances left and right and some mere contemplation, they scratch their head a little and shrug it off, walking back down the small walkway to the staircase to get back to their bike. They were, without a doubt slightly defeated by the fact that Arakita wasn’t home but there wasn’t exactly anything they could do but come back next time. Without really realising it, coming to visit Arakita was a weekly activity for Manami; they would come and they would tell Arakita (and sometimes Kinjou) about their week, have them help with their homework or just hang out, watch lame television shows or try to cook up things in the kitchen (usually leaving big messes in which Manami would just pretend to fall asleep on the couch to avoid cleaning)... but not this week, they guess. They were sure Arakita and Kinjou had to be busy with university and cycling and all but a little sliver of sadness hung within them.
Upon slight further contemplation, they do realise that Kinjou lives in the same complex as Arakita and suddenly thinks it's a brilliant idea to go see if Arakita was there instead — they weren’t about to give up on this after the two hour train ride — absolutely not.
At first, when Manami had started coming to visit Arakita almost weekly, they had noticed that Kinjou was almost always around, if he wasn’t in Arakita’s apartment when they arrive, he’d be there soon enough. Manami wasn’t that oblivious, they picked up on it quickly. Arakita definitely had a thing for Kinjou. Heck, Manami was almost sure the whole world could see it. One thing led to another, and well, the quality time Manami spent with Arakita soon turned into quality time spent with Arakita and Kinjou. They didn’t mind though. They quite liked Kinjou — they were even quite happy when they found out Arakita had finally started dating Kinjou. Despite the fact that they had been dating for a while, Manami had never spent time alone with Kinjou. It’s not that they didn’t want to, or they didn’t like him or anything, it’s just that it never happened — Arakita was always there, and so the opportunity just never occurred.
It didn’t take all too long for them to find his apartment, with the help of nameplates and also that one time Arakita had taken them to see Kinjou, Manami found themselves standing in front of a door in which they’ve decided quite confidently, is indeed Kinjou’s apartment.
One press. Two presses. Three. Four. Four rings of the bell seemed appropriate. There is no grumbling, no shouting, just a few words spoken in a deep tone, muffled by the walls, “Please hold on one second!”
“Doesn’t sound like Arakita-san is in there…” they speak softly in thought as they wait for the door to be opened, mindlessly tapping their foot on the cement pavement in tune with the soft sounds of feet on wooden floors on the other side of the door.
The door swung open to reveal Kinjou, a towel around his neck, sweatpants, a white tee and what seems to be small speckles of water on his skin — as if he’d just stepped out of the shower or something of the like.
“Manami?”
—————
They sit on the couch, idly kicking their feet back and forth as they look over to Kinjou standing in the kitchen, pouring steaming water from the kettle into two mugs. Kinjou breaks the somewhat awkward silence, not exactly sure what to do when Arakita’s ex-teammate-almost-child person has shown up at his door and Arakita was nowhere to be found.
“So what brings you here today, Manami?”
Manami doesn’t really find a reason to reply to the question straight away, not when it was nothing but a conversation filler so they hum lightly in response before speaking a few seconds later, “I came to see you, Kinjou-san,” they say before pausing, scratching the back of their head as a small laughter escapes their lips, “Well, really, I came to see Arakita-san but he wasn’t home so I came to see you instead.”
Kinjou nods, chuckling lowly at the child's explanation before grabbing both mugs of tea and walking over to the small couch, sitting down next to Manami and simultaneously handing them one of the drinks. Manami quickly thanks him and as Kinjou quietly takes a few sips, he can feel the tension rising between them -- they had never been together, alone, like this, and it seemed like the both of them weren’t too sure on how to act.
“So… had any plans in mind for today?”
—————
“No, Kinjou-san, I’m serious! I’ve seen pictures from Toudou-san, it’s a pompadour, Arakita-san had a pompadour! There was just so much hair, everywhere,” Manami’s yelling, hand gestures flying everywhere, words hiccupped between small spurts of laughter.
Kinjou is in bits over the thought, he’s half falling off the couch, face scrunched up almost as if in pain as he yells in laughter, his deep voice echoing within the thin walls of the apartment. He’s struggling to catch his breath as he positions himself properly onto the couch before bursting into fits of hysterics once more.
“M-Manami, my dear Manami,” Kinjou manages to fumble out without snickering and places his hand softly upon Manami’s shoulder, “please, for the love of both you and me, get a hold of that picture.” Kinjou’s face has fallen to something somewhat serious, but by the small quivers of his bottom lip, it’s almost obvious to Manami (who’s staring right into Kinjou’s murky green eyes and getting kind of mesmerised), that Kinjou is probably trying his hardest to keep the fit of giggles mingling in his throat from erupting.
“Will do, Kinjou-san, you need to see the wonder that is that thing on Arakita-san’s head,” They speak, and nod, breaking into laughter again as the mental image forms in their brain.
Just as Kinjou and Manami were basking in the moment, bonding, the sound of the door unlocking is heard and soon enough, it swings open and Arakita steps in, a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder and two grocery store bags — one in each hand. He seems pre-occupied by the contents in his hands that he doesn’t notice the visitor and begins speaking, not even bothering to glance over to the couch, “Ah, Shingo, sorry I’m late, got caught up with uni and shit, you know how that stuff is.”
Once he finally has his hands free, Arakita looks over to the couch, slightly taken aback as he realises that it isn’t just Kinjou sitting there. “Manami? Hah? What are you doing here over at Shingo’s?”
Both Manami and Kinjou glance up at Arakita, who’s standing not too far away in the kitchen, blank faces washed over the both of them. A few seconds of silence bounce over and Kinjou and Manami lose their covers and explode into bouts of howling laughter — Manami falling into Kinjou’s lap and Kinjou pulling the blue-haired kid close as they lay around on the couch, guffawing at the mental image of pompadour Arakita.
Arakita’s struck solid in complete confusion of the current events unfolding in front of him. “What the fuck is going on?”