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I.
When Kasamatsu, Kobori and Moriyama graduate, the future seems clear. They’ll cry a bit today, promise to stay in touch, and as time passes, the college routine will swallow them. Since Kasamatsu and Moriyama are going to the same university, they might run into each other on their way to class and exchange some words, remember Kobori and make mental notes to text or call him. They’ll try and fail to organize a reunion, and when they graduate from college they will be just casual friends, the kind that tries to meet up twice a year to keep the link between them alive.
As for the rest of Kaijou’s basketball team, it’s obvious how things will play out for them as well. Nakamura will stay in touch for a few months, mostly to ask about his new role as vice-captain, and then they won’t hear from him again. Hayakawa will tag them in Facebook publications and comment on everything they post, but they’ll never see him. Kise’s face will be on billboards everywhere, and all they’ll hear from him will come from gossip magazines, or maybe from running into a mutual acquaintance.
That’s what will happen, and it’s fine. They’ve made their peace with it, and there are no tears.
Well, except for Hayakawa’s. The basketball club apparently decided to send their senpai off properly, and all of the members showed up to the graduation ceremony to say goodbye. The club’s standing at the back, but they can hear Hayakawa bawling from where they’re sitting, almost at the front.
“Maybe we should be crying too,” Kobori whispers.
“There’s no need to. Hayakawa’s covering for the three of us,” Kasamatsu replies, whispering as well.
“He’s crying enough for the entire class,” murmurs Moriyama.
“But maybe they expect us to cry,” Kobori says.
“Nobody expects us to cry. You’re good at keeping it together. And Kasamatsu just yells at people.”
“Shut up, they’re looking at us,” Kasamatsu says, looking around. They’re being glared at by at least three people.
“It’s not like they can punish us at this point. Relax.” Moriyama pats Kasamatsu’s shoulder, but doesn’t talk anymore.
The three of them face the front again and try to ignore Hayakawa’s sobs.
II.
Kouji’s phone has rung five times this morning, and each time he has left it where it is, not bothering to check who’s calling, but he’s starting to suspect that the caller won’t take the hint and will just keep trying. He’s a bit curious about who’s trying so hard to reach him, so even though he isn’t really in the mood to deal with anyone, he glances at the phone’s screen when it starts ringing again. He has to do a double take to be completely sure that, yes, the caller is Kise.
Kouji can’t imagine why Kise would be calling him, unless he found out somehow that Kouji got his acceptance (and rejection) letters from college this morning and wants to ask him about it. That would be really nice of Kise, but Kouji doesn’t think there’s any way he could know.
“Hello?”
“Kobori-senpai!” Kise’s too-cheerful voice says from the other end of the line. “How are you?”
Kouji closes his eyes and doesn’t sigh. He tries to sound like he isn’t lying when he says, “I’m fine, thanks for asking. How are you?”
“I’m fine, but I have a problem and I need your help?”
Oh, that’s why he was so persistent.
“What is it?”
“I’m in a shoot and I have another one in the afternoon, but there were problems with the car that was going to get me, and I need someone to drive me, and Moriyama-senpai told me that you have a car?”
Kouji runs a hand through his hair as he thinks. He doesn’t have a car, what he has is a license and permission to use his parents’ car when they don’t need it. Today, his parents don’t need the car, but Kise doesn’t know that, and if Kouji lies he can avoid having to get out of the house and deal with the world to act as Kise’s chauffeur. On the other hand, if Kise called him it’s probably because he was out of options. Sure, they were teammates until just a short time ago, but they’d never been close enough for Kise to ask for favors. Actually, Kouji had been sure that Kise would delete his number after the graduation ceremony.
“Kobori-senpai?” Kise says hesitantly, bringing Kouji out of his thoughts.
Usually, deciding what’s right isn’t so difficult.
“Okay, where do I have to be?”
“Kobori-senpai, you’re the best!” Kouji can almost see sparkles coming from the other end of the line. “I don’t have to be there until four, but if you come get me now I’ll buy you lunch as thanks!”
It’s eleven in the morning. Depending on how far from Kouji’s home Kise is, that means spending at least four hours with him.
Kouji’s about to reject the invitation when he catches sight of the college acceptance letter on top of his desk. Maybe spending time with Kise will be better than staying at home.
And that’s how Kouji ends up waiting for Kise outside of an elegant house where, apparently, the morning shoot was taking place.
There are some girls waiting as well, and they dart glances at him every few minutes.
When Kise comes out of the house at midday and waves at Kouji, smiling at him like Kouji had brought the sun in a rainy day, all the girls turn to stare, and some of them start asking questions (“Who are you?”, “How do you know Ryouta-kun?”, “Are you a model too?”, “Are the rumors that he’s gay true?”), but Kise reaches them before Kouji can do more than open his mouth.
“This is Kobori-senpai!” Kise tells the girls, patting Kouji’s shoulder like he’s a close friend. “We played basketball together, and he’s going to help me today with some important things.”
The girls look at Kouji with varying levels of interest after that, but soon forget he’s even there and start asking Kise for pictures and autographs, and about his life, his interests, any stories he wants to tell them? It takes some effort and time, but Kouji manages to get Kise away from them and into the car, and then he drives away, even though he has no idea of where Kise wants to go.
“Sorry about that, senpai,” Kise says. His voice is soft and it sounds genuinely apologetic. Kouji looks at him from the corner of his eye: Kise's eyes are closed and his head is tilted back.
“It’s fine. I should have been expecting it. It was like that when Moriyama took us to find girls,” Kouji says.
Kise chuckles.
“What?” Kouji asks.
“I was thinking that at least now you know he wasn’t doing that to cheer up Kasamatsu-senpai.”
Kouji’s cheeks feel hot from embarrassment, so he doesn’t reply and just keeps driving around, still not knowing where to go.
They end up buying fast food to go, and eating it while walking around the shopping district. Kise gives Kouji all of his fries, and fills the silence with stories from his work, anecdotes about people Kouji has only heard of, faces he’s seen in magazines. The volume of Kise’s voice changes depending of what he’s talking about, and he gesticulates for emphasis, hands moving to the rhythm of his words, twisting in gestures that probably belong to the person he’s talking about, everything coming together to give Kouji a snapshot of a world nobody else at Kaijou will ever belong to, a world Kise will probably disappear into after high-school.
Time passes quickly, because Kise keeps entering shops, coaxing Kouji into trying on outfits, and still telling stories, and eventually Kouji stops thinking about why he’d been in a bad mood earlier, except Kise suggests they get something to drink, and as they enter the coffee shop he says, almost like an afterthought, “Are you going to the same college as Moriyama-senpai and Kasamatsu-senpai?”
Kouji stops and looks at Kise, who walks some steps before realizing he’s alone and turning around to look confusedly at Kouji.
“What’s wrong, senpai?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Because you stopped walking-”
“Not that. About college. Why are you asking about that?”
“Because Moriyama-senpai told me you might be going to college with him and Kasamatsu-senpai next year.”
“That’s my second choice.”
“Then you won’t be going to the same place?” Kise asks, like he hasn’t even thought Kouji might not have gotten where he wanted to.
Kouji swallows and starts walking again, leaving Kise behind to look for a table.
“Senpai, what’s wrong?”
“I’m going to the same place as them,” Kouji says, not looking at Kise, who’s standing next to him again.
“Oh,” Kise says, and for some miracle doesn’t say anything else.
They stand next to the table, Kouji’s right hand resting on top of it to stop anyone from trying to sit there. Neither of them offers to get the drinks, so they sit down, and Kouji starts talking.
“It’s not a bad college. It was my second choice for a reason. But I really thought I could get into my first one. And if Kasamatsu hears me complain about this he might kick me down a flight of stairs. And it’s fine, it really is. And at least there will be people I know there. But still…”
Kise’s looking at him intently, like Kouji’s telling him something of the utmost importance to his life.
“It’s still second choice,” Kise says, serious, like he understands.
“Yes.”
Kise nods solemnly and puts a hand on Kouji’s shoulder. Kouji expects some words of comfort, but Kise just leaves his hand there and smiles at him, full of sympathy. It’s small, and it looks sincere.
Kise offers to get the drinks and leaves Kouji at the table, free to think and mope, but he’s feeling better now.
“Second choice isn’t bad, is it?” he tells Kise when the latter returns.
Kise’s smile widens. “Not at all, senpai,” he says, handing Kouji his coffee.
It occurs to Kouji that they’ve spent a long time walking around, so he checks the time. It’s 4:15.
“Kise, you’re late for your shoot,” Kouji says, pushing back his chair and moving to stand up.
Kise chokes on his drink and lowers his head.
“Heh, about that…” Kise says slowly, like he’s testing the situation. “There’s no shoot.”
“Did they cancel it?”
“No, um… there never was one.”He smiles sheepishly. “I lied. I talked to Moriyama-senpai and he told me you were a bit down about the entrance exams, so…”
“So you took me out,” Kouji says, frowning.
“Sorry for lying, Kobori-senpai,” Kise says, not sounding like he regrets it at all.
Kouji stares for a moment, and then slowly settles back on his seat. Kise’s watching him intently, so Kouji leans back on his chair and takes a sip of his drink. Then he shakes his head and smiles.
“Thank you,” Kouji says, and Kise grins.
“You’re welcome, senpai.”
III.
Shinya isn’t hiding. He definitely isn’t. He’s just desperately trying to save what little is left of his patience for the day, and that involves taking too long walking from the club room to the gym, and also taking a detour towards the vending machines at the other side of the school.
No one has called him yet, which doesn’t really surprise him. He always tries to be early for practice, so if today he arrives just in time no one should have any reason to worry.
He’s deciding what to get when his phone rings. It’s Kobori-sen- eh… Kobori-san? Kobori? Well, his former vice-captain.
“Hi,” Shinya says, picking a drink at random.
“Hi, how are you?” Kobori says.
“Fine, fine,” Shinya says, taking his drink from the machine. He checks the expiration date before opening it. “And you? How’s college? How are the others?”
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Kobori asks. Shinya doesn’t think he’d sounded any different from usual when he’d spoken, and doesn’t understand what had given him away, but then Kobori continues. “It’s not that I doubt you, but Kise can be tiring even on good days.”
Shinya cringes and almost sighs in frustration.
“Yes, he is,” he admits. “I don’t know how you and Kasamatsu-senpai dealt with him.”
Kobori chuckles.
“Are you still calling us 'senpai'?”
“Kise still does. It’s contagious.” Shinya makes a face at his reflection in the vending machine’s glass and starts the walk back to the gym. “And I feel like Kasamatsu-senpai will know if I don’t call him that. Like some part of his brain will tell him ‘your former kouhai is disrespecting you’.”
“He’s not that bad,” Kobori says, reproachful.
“Okay, maybe he won’t know if I do it. But if Kise does, his Kise-sense will tell him.”
“His ‘Kise-sense’?” Kobori asks, amused.
“It was a theory the non-starters had,” Shinya explains. “Like he somehow knew when Kise was doing something he deserved to be kicked for. Like existing.”
There’s a pause before Kobori replies, slow and concerned, “I didn’t know you disliked Kise that much.”
“I don’t, but…” Shinya stops walking and closes his eyes, tilts his head back. “He’s tiresome. Yes, he works hard, and he’s still our best player, but he needs too much attention.” He opens his eyes, looks to the front again and walks. “You have to praise him, but also keep him in line, and impose yourself so he’ll respect you, but also be friendly enough that he likes you and trusts you… He’s a lot of work, and too much of it falls on me.”
“He's not a bad guy.”
“I don’t doubt that. But wherever he goes, his fangirls go, and that’s just too many people in one place. I can’t focus.” Shinya licks his lips. “They’re not really talking to me and they don’t care about me, but they’re there and I already have enough trouble figuring out how to talk to Kise when we aren't talking about basketball to add having to do it in front of an audience.”
“Maybe you should tell him that,” Kobori says. It reminds Shinya a bit of when he was a kid and his mom tried to convince him that he’d have better chances of catching a ghost outside than in his room.
“He’ll ask me if I’m afraid of girls, like Kasamatsu... Senpai. Kasamatsu-senpai.”
“Just tell him what you told me.”
“How am I supposed to earn his respect that way?”
“Has he challenged your authority in front of everyone?” Kobori sounds like a teacher when he says that. Like he’s starting a great class on the topic of Kise’s behavior.
“Like when he arrived at the club?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Then you’re probably fine.” Shinya thinks he can hear him shrugging. Shinya's sure that Kobori only understands obvious human behaviour, and Kise defies logic, so Shinya doesn't think he can trust Kobori's judgement on the matter.
“You think?”
“Yeah. So, what should I tell Kasamatsu when he asks me how the club is doing?”
“Tell him he has my respect for dealing with Kise every school day and sometimes on the weekends. That Hayakawa’s a good captain, even if he relies on me too much for emotional support." He thinks that over. "Don't tell him that last part, please. Tell him we’re crushing Seirin this year. The new first years have potential..." He thinks that last statement over as well. "Except for one that likes dunking too much.”
“Hayakawa must be pissed about that.”
“Extremely. He doesn't talk to him because he's afraid of acting immature, so he sends me.”
Kobori snorts, and Shinya laughs.
“Well, I was calling to see how being vice-captain was going for you. You sound like you’re doing fine.”
“I’m not really sure what I’m doing,” Shinya admits. He’s finally arrived to the gym, but he stays outside to talk peacefully.
“You still have some weeks. We didn’t know what we were doing until around the time of the Interhigh.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
Kise's standing at the door of the gym, waving at Shinya, who points to his phone to let him know he’ll go in when he’s done talking. Kise gives a thumbs-up and goes back inside.
“We were good at pretending. Or, more like we had an idea of what we were supposed to do when we were in front of everyone, and we panicked when we were alone. Moriyama kept our mental health in check by dragging us out to clear our heads... It helped a lot.”
Shinya wonders if Moriyama had been trying to help or just trying to pick up girls, but he doesn’t feel like crushing Kobori’s fondness for his friend by voicing his doubts.
“I’ll talk to Kise, then,” he says.
“Do that. I’m sure it will work.” Kobori sounds more confident than Shinya feels. “Kasamatsu put the fear of authority in his head, and you’re his vice-captain on top of being his senpai, so you'll be fine.”
Shinya smiles at that. “Guess I should thank Kasamatsu-senpai for that.”
“Call him later, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
“A text will be fine.”
“Call him. He needs to talk to people that don’t get on his nerves. Did you know he’s on a team with Touou’s Imayoshi now?”
“Hayakawa told me.”
“Yes. Imayoshi gets on everyone’s nerves. So, please call him.” It sounds like a plea.
“I will. Thanks for calling, Kobori.”
“Tell Kise and Hayakawa I said ‘hi’, okay?”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Shinya stares at his phone for a moment before putting it back on his pocket. He finishes his drink, throws the can to the trash, and remembers he hadn’t asked again about how Kobori and the others were doing. He makes a mental note to make up for that when he calls Kasamatsu-senpai later.
IV.
It's late and there’s someone - a figure wearing a scarf that covers half their face - waving at Yukio from across the street. Well, they’re probably waving at someone behind Yukio, so he pays little attention to the person, who then points at Yukio and signals for him to wait. Just in case, Yukio looks behind himself to make sure the stranger’s addressing him, sees there’s nobody else on the street and turns to the stranger, raising his shoulders in what hopefully looks like he’s questioning the situation. He can't use his hands to gesture because he's carrying a stack of papers, which hadn’t fit into the backpack he’s wearing.
The stranger lowers their scarf, revealing Nakamura’s face. Yukio should have guessed from the hair and the glasses, but he's going to blame the poor lightning.
Yukio nods and walks to the corner, waits for Nakamura.
“How have you been?” Yukio asks.
“Confused, mostly. College is strange. And classes haven't even started yet,” Nakamura says, shrugging.
"You just moved to the dorms, right?"
"Yes, last week" He licks his lips before asking, “And how have you been, senpai?”
Both Yukio and Nakamura cringe at the suffix, and Nakamura looks like he wants to slap his forehead.
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” Yukio says.
“It’s Kise’s fault,” Nakamura replies, shaking his head. “I talked to him the other day and he kept calling all of you ‘senpai’. It stuck... But, well, how have you been?”
“Fine, thanks.” Very tired, he wants to add - the street team’s training has been more intense since Jabberwock last year – but it’s not a topic for light conversation.
Nakamura nods and gestures with his head towards the papers Yukio's carrying. “Do you want help?”
“These are for you, actually,” Yukio says. “I was on my way to your dorm to drop them off.”
Nakamura is slightly terrified by the stack of papers, if Yukio goes by the way his eyes widen and how he stares at it.
“These are the notes Moriyama said he’d lend me?” Nakamura finally says.
“Yes.”
“…these aren’t notes. These are textbooks.”
“And they even have diagrams.” Yukio shifts the weight from one arm to the other. “With colors. You shouldn’t need to write down anything if you have them.”
“Really?”
“He decided to have the best notes in the class, because he thought maybe some girl would notice and ask to borrow them.” Yukio huffs. “Didn’t happen. You’re the first one besides him to use them.”
“Hm.”
Nakamura looks slightly exasperated, but he also has pressed his lips tightly and is trying to keep his amusement out of his face. He looks exactly how Yukio feels about the situation.
“So why are you bringing them? I told Moriyama I’d drop by your apartment to get them on Friday.”
“Because our apartment is an embarrassment and we need to clean up. It won’t be ready before Sunday, at least.”
“Oh.”
Nakamura reaches for the stack of papers.
“I have more inside the backpack.” Nakamura looks panicked. “It's okay, I’ll help you carry them. Let’s go.”
“Thank you,” Nakamura says, taking the stack of papers.
Since Yukio’s hands are finally free, he fixes his jacket, trying to cover his neck a bit better, and buries his hands in his pockets.
They walk towards Nakamura’s dorm in silence. Yukio can’t remember a time in which Nakamura and he had had much to tell each other.
They reach Nakamura’s dorm room and leave everything on top of his bed. Yukio’s about to say goodbye when Nakamura stops him with a gesture and points to the electric kettle and cups on his desk.
“Do you want some tea? Or coffee?”
They drink tea and talk about college. Yukio tells Nakamura everything he knows to survive every day, from where to buy cheap food to what time’s the best to use the campus’ photocopier.
Nakamura doesn't let Yukio leave without a scarf.
"You can give it back later," he says when Yukio tries to protest, and pushes him out of the room before he can say anything else.
V.
Someone’s knocking. Mitsuhiro heard them the first time, when it was a quiet sound, and the second one, when the knocks were louder, half a second passing between each one, and the third time, when they became faster, but not louder.
Under normal circumstances, Mitsuhiro would have gotten the door before the first round of knocking had ended, but today his whole body hates him and he’s just dragging himself out of bed by the time it starts for a second time, pulling a blanket off the bed to wrap around himself. It doesn't even occur to him to try to stand straight to save appearances and look less pitiful. All his muscles hurt, and he wants to curl into himself and sleep, but the person at the door won’t stop knocking and the other students at the dorm will complain soon. They’re always complaining about Mitsuhiro, so he’s been trying to annoy them as little as possible lately.
Mitsuhiro reaches the door right when the knocking has started a fourth time, this time louder, so he opens it quickly to find Kasamatsu with a grave expression that changes into relief as soon as he sees Mitsuhiro, and then into obvious worry.
“Go back to bed right now,” Kasamatsu says, pushing past Mitsuhiro to enter the room.
“What a(r)e you doing he(r)e?” Mitsuhiro asks as he obeys.
“Do you have an electric kettle?” Kasamatsu asks instead of explaining himself, leaving the bag he was carrying and his backpack on top of Mitsuhiro’s desk and walking to the window.
“Unde(r) the bed,” Mitsuhiro mumbles, and hides his head under his mountain of covers when Kasamatsu opens the window and the cold air enters.
“When was the last time you ventilated this place?”
Mitsuhiro hears him dragging boxes from under the bed, and lowers the covers enough to see.
“Befo(r)e I got sick."
Kasamatsu leaves the electric kettle and a bowl on the desk, and takes out some instant noodles from the bag, a package of tissues, napkins, a take-out container, a thermos and a hot water bottle.
“Nakamura told us you were sick,” Kasamatsu says, filling a cup with the thermos’ contents. It smells like soup. “Kobori sent this.”
Kasamatsu forces Mitsuhiro to sit and hands him the cup of soup, then leaves with the electric kettle.
The soup’s too salty for Mitsuhiro, but it’s the first thing he’s eaten since yesterday, so he has almost finished it by the time Kasamatsu returns, turns on the electric kettle, takes a book from his backpack and sits on the room's other bed to read.
Last year, Mitsuhiro had had a room for himself. This year, he’d had a roommate for a month, but then the guy had asked to be put somewhere else and by then it had been too late into the year for anyone else to be assigned as Mitsuhiro’s roommate.
Mitsuhiro finishes the soup and leaves the cup on his nightstand. Kasamatsu takes it immediately and leaves the room again, returns later with the cup washed, just in time to put the hot water on the noodles and fill the hot water bottle.
“Kobori will stop by later,” Kasamatsu says, closing the window. “Moriyama and Nakamura will come tomorrow if you’re still sick.”
“Why?” Mitsuhiro asks, watching Kasamatsu put the package of tissues on the nightstand.
“Because you’re sick?” Kasamatsu says, turning to look at him, seemingly confused by the question. “Do you have a thermometer?”
Mitsuhiro can't help it: his eyes fill with tears and he sniffles.
“What are you doing? Why are you- Hayakawa?” Kasamatsu sounds concerned and bewildered.
The way Mitsuhiro understands life, you must laugh if you’re happy, and cry when you’re sad, and sometimes cry when you’re happy because that’s a thing that happens and you mustn’t stop it just because it's a reaction that doesn't make much sense, and if someone’s sick you help them because being sick sucks and the sooner it’s over, the better - but people usually don’t see things like Mitsuhiro does, so it’s very, very nice to have his former teammates worrying over him, and he's very, very happy right now.
He says the last part to Kasamatsu, and adds, “Thank you,” as he reaches for the tissues and blows his nose. “I’(ll) get bette(r) in no time, thank you!”
“Okay. You’re welcome,” Kasamatsu says, giving Mitsuhiro a small smile and patting his head once.
VI.
“Let’s see if I understood everything,” Yoshitaka says, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the table. “You almost ran over a girl with your bike, made her cry, then made her laugh, and then she asked you out, so you want my help.”
Hayakawa shakes his head, his face falls and his shoulders drop. It’s the most pitiful Hayakawa has looked, not counting that time he was sick, and it's horribly uncomfortable and needs to stop now.
“She didn’t ask me out.”
“But you’re seeing her on Saturday,” Yoshitaka points out, making a vague gesture. The way Hayakawa had explained the situation, it had sounded like a date to him.
“She said I shou(l)d go with he(r) to this weekend’s st(r)eet basketba(ll) tou(r)nament to make it up to he(r) fo(r) (r)uining he(r) d(r)ess.” Hayakawa raises his head and the same determination that had seemed to fuel him during games shines on his eyes. “And I want to ask he(r) out!” he says, curling a hand into a fist and hitting the table.
People around them stare. Yoshitaka suspects that the fact that he doesn’t want to hide under the table (and that he isn’t even slightly embarrassed by the unwanted attention) means something. Probably something about too much time spent with Hayakawa.
He tries to imagine Hayakawa on a date with anyone, but all that comes to his head are the failed group dates from his last year of high-school and he cringes from embarrassment. He also wishes there was some way to go back in time to tell his past-self a thing or two about what girls actually want, and maybe warn him about a heartbreak or two.
Talking about heartbreaks, he should be thinking about Hayakawa’s not-date.
“Have you thought of how you’re going to ask her out?”
“I’m going to take he(r) hand and ask he(r) if she wants to go out with me.”
Hayakawa smiles proudly, clearly satisfied with his approach. If it was anyone else, Yoshitaka would try to discourage them, but the direct approach is probably the best for Hayakawa - he wasn’t made for subtlety; the girl will know Hayakawa’s interested as soon as he looks at her with the lovesick puppy eyes he gets when he mentions her, so keeping quiet about it will only lead to her being uncomfortable.
Yoshitaka smiles.
“You seem to have everything figured out,” he says, crossing his hands on top of the table. “Why do you need my help?”
“Because you know a (l)ot about these things, Mo(r)iyama-senpai! I don't wanna sc(r)ew up on Satu(r)day!”
Yoshitaka can’t remember the last time anyone (besides Kise) had called him 'senpai'. He suddenly feels old.
Oh, well. There’s a smitten young man in front of him who desperately needs his help. Yoshitaka can mope later: right now, true love requires his assistance.
VII.
“You can’t borrow Kagami Taiga,” Ryouta says, shaking his head.
“Kise, this is a life-or-death situation.”
“You can’t use my cat to get a date, senpai! She’s a living creature!”
Moriyama-senpai doesn’t react at being called ‘senpai’. Back during Ryouta’s second year at Kaijou, he and Kasamatsu-senpai had reacted with varying levels of frustration whenever he used the suffix, but nowadays they don’t even seem to notice. Ryouta’s half-tempted to stop calling them that just to see what would happen, but he thinks he’d end up just as confused as them if he changed that.
“I don’t need to get a date, she’s my girlfriend. She likes cats, and pets aren’t allowed in her building, and you're the only person I know with a cat,” he says, raising a finger and looking indignant. “Please, Kise. In the name of romance.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Kagami Taiga's forty years old. What if something happens to her?”
“She’s four.”
“A cat year equals ten human years.”
“Really?” Moriyama-senpai’s eyes widen and he tilts his head.
“I saw it in a movie," Kise admits.
“Which one? Was it good?”
“I don’t remember. I saw it on TV when I went to the US last year. It wasn’t that good.” To be precise, it was rather poorly acted and simplistic, but it was cute enough, so the only thing Ryouta remembers clearly was that bit about cat years and human years.
“You should look that up before you use it as an excuse,” Moriyama-senpai says, giving Ryouta an unamused look.
“Senpai…”
“I’ll take care of her, and I’ll also take pictures and tag Kagami when I put them on Facebook,” Moriyama-senpai says, smirking.
Ryouta narrows his eyes at Moriyama-senpai and considers the offer. Back during Kagami Taiga’s first few months at Ryouta’s house, he’d had the habit of taking pictures of her and tagging Kagamicchi. It’s been a while since he last did that, and he kind of misses Kagamicchi’s reactions to the pictures.
“Did you call me here just to try to use my cat?” Ryouta says, trying to buy some minutes to consider the offer.
“Not really. The cat’s something I thought of on the way here,” Moriyama-senpai says, shrugging. “I saw Akashi on a magazine the other day, and I was wondering if he still talked to those Uncrowned guys.” A corner of his mouth lifts in a humorless smile. “You know, I was convinced that we’d never see you again after school. Or, well, that I wouldn’t see you in person, because your face is everywhere. There’s a huge ad near my apartment, so I see you every morning, but…” He shrugs again and doesn’t finish the sentence. “I thought we’d organize former players’ meetings and you’d keep telling us you couldn’t go, and when you showed up you’d look like an alien. Something like that. And that we’d miss you.”
Ryouta studies Moriyama-senpai’s face as he speaks. He’s still handsome, but the boyishness from his years at school is completely gone, leaving too many sharp lines that make him seem more severe than he actually is. He’ll probably look good when his hair grays, Ryouta concludes, and wonders whether or not they’ll still be talking by the time that happens.
“He still talks to them,” Ryouta says. “Akashicchi,” he clarifies when Moriyama-senpai seems about to ask. “And I think he asks Murasakibaracchi about how we’re doing.”
“Good to know.” Moriyama-senpai nods. Ryouta doesn’t know why he’s glad to find that out, but he doesn’t ask.
VIII.
The six of them reach an agreement: every two months, they’ll clear their schedules and go for drinks together. They have everything planned out: they’ll pick a place that isn’t too expensive, and they’ll talk, and catch up on life, and fix the world with their conversations.
What actually happens is that they often don’t have anything new to tell each other, because they have a terrible tendency of running into each other by accident in their daily lives, and Hayakawa and Kise talk to everyone on Facebook, and Kobori is always texting the others to ask them how they’re doing, so by the time the pre-scheduled nights out arrive, they already know what’s going on with everyone’s lives, and none of them really wants to talk about fixing the world, so they end up bickering about life’s daily tragedies (“Have you seen the price of eggs? How’s a man supposed to feed himself?”, “There was a problem with the trains the other day, did any of you have trouble with that?”), or saying a lot of meaningless ‘somethings’ that, put together, form a more or less coherent conversation.