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It had started how every ludicrous situation in Jinpachi’s life had ever started: with a breakup.
He didn’t remember what the girl even looked like; she was probably awfully pretty, they all were, tall or short, sportsy or fashionable, chubby or slender, eyes brown or green or blue - he just remembered she used to wear her long golden hair in a tidy ponytail, and that this ponytail had been tangled up around his classmate’s fingers as Jinpachi had caught them kissing behind the Art building.
Jinpachi didn’t really care about the girl, if he was completely honest. What really angered him was his friend’s betrayal - okay, maybe they didn’t get along that well, but people who stole one of their classmate’s girlfriend truly had a special place in hell in Jinpachi’s mind, just after those who stopped unannounced in the middle of the street and the ones who invented turtleneck sweaters. What hurt the most was the stain on his pride, the fact that he had been once again the one to be dumped or cheated on or both, a fact that Jinpachi didn’t understand - what the heck was he doing wrong?! He chose to ponder on the issue while he relaxed the best way he knew: taking a long, hot shower, while listening to some music.
It just so happened that Jinpachi was currently listening over and over to Taylor Swift’s latest album - don’t judge me, he had said to Arakita, because Jinpachi had caught him mouthing the words to Blank Space more than once -, and in his treason-fueled rage, he decided to skip to Bad Blood and sing till his throat was sore. The first lyrics came to him easily as the first tendrils of warm water soaked his hair, and what had been a content humming turned three seconds later into an all-out performance, bar of soap in hand acting as substitute microphone - did you have to hit me where I’m weak, baby I couldn’t breathe - Jinpachi dramatically brought his hand to his naked chest, ready to burst out the high notes of the bridge, until another voice cut his right off.
And a very pretty voice, at that.
It certainly came from the other side of the shower wall, and it was no surprise to Jinpachi that his neighbour could definitely hear him through the thin layers of concrete and tiles, since he himself had once distinctively heard from the other flat’s bathroom sighs and moans to make Fuku’s stony face blush - yet he had never heard the smooth, yet clear voice of the guy who apparently owned said flat, singing to a Taylor Swift song like it was his national anthem. Still, after the shock of his neighbour joining him in a duet had passed, Jinpachi wondered what their voices would sound like in unison.
The result was so good they finished the song.
*
It had happened four other times, to the point where they could practically call it a ritual.
Each time they took a shower at the same time, one would start singing, while the other would join midway, whatever the song was, whether they knew the lyrics or not - Jinpachi is absolutely sure he heard his neighbour fumble once, and his laugh sounded adorable. He also started to wonder whether it was possible to fall in love with a voice, because it wasn’t in any way reasonable to hear it in your dreams, whispering in your ear and singing Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes as if it wasn’t a song about sex, while Jinpachi still had next to no idea what the guy actually looked like. Strange as it may seem, they had never crossed paths in their building, and even if they had, Jinpachi isn’t quite sure he would have recognised his voice - he had only ever heard him singing, after all. Still, he wondered whether he should leave a note on his door, something saying “hey I know we never saw each other, but I kind of like your voice, and I think I would grow to like you too if we ever hung out for a drink, maybe?”, and oh my god he’ll probably think I’m crazy.
His train of thoughts came to a stop thanks to Arakita’s phone call, reminding him Fuku was to be dragging them to a karaoke downtown because it’s been such a long time since we’ve last seen each other even though it had been only two weeks - Jinpachi secretly knew it was because Fuku wanted to cheer him up, even though he would never say so himself - as well as giving him the address, ending the call with a “Don’t you dare be late!!” as if Jinpachi was their kouhai Manami. Still, he had a good two hours left to prepare, which left him plenty of time to take a long shower.
His neighbour, Jinpachi had noticed, had pretty good taste in music, maybe even better than Kuroda, who had always been his reference for great indie bands and cool and cheap concert venues. The guy on the other side was incidentally listening to a song which Jinpachi had downloaded not long ago, humming along the electronic beats before singing softly - yeah I’ve been keeping myself out of trouble, but trouble always seems to find me - so it was mere reflex, really, that Jinpachi started to sing the back chorus after his lines, the repetitive I’m in trouble which interspersed the song, before himself singing the second couplet.
See I didn’t mean to come to this party
I was happy back at home with my guitar
But the summer breeze swept me out the window
Now I’m praying I don’t take it too far
The song went on and on, dissonant harmonies of low, purring singing voices, not always in tune but pretty all the same, whispered melodies echoing on tiled walls, and almost as soon as it had begun the song ended and Jinpachi heard a squeak of skin over humid bathtub and retreating footsteps, and he was back alone under too warm streams of water, feeling strangely empty.
*
Jinpachi waved across the street at Arakita, when he caught a flash of red.
Not Machimiya’s red, mind you, spiky and rough, although Machimiya had apparently joined them for their little night out - but a soft, curly, messy red, the kind where you wanted to bury your fingers and pull softly. Coming closer, he noticed the guy beneath the strands was quite the handsome type, half-lidded blue eyes and big full lips stretching in a cheeky grin.
“Ah, Toudou,” Fuku called out once he saw Jinpachi’s puzzlement, “this is Shinkai, one of my classmates”, and as said Shinkai shook Jinpachi’s hand with a “Good evening”, he felt something oddly familiar about the guy in front of him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was a small town after all, so they surely must have bumped into each other at least once - is what he thought.
After waiting five more minutes for Kinjou, the six of them entered a booth and, as tradition asked for, Jinpachi would once again be the one to start singing - not that he disliked it, on the contrary, it allowed him to rub in Arakita’s face how he was much better at singing than any of them, empty brag he knew his friends didn’t really care about but still made them snicker. Jinpachi confidently snatched the mic and started his best rendition of one of his favourite songs, noticing how the new guy couldn’t help but stare at him with interest glimmering in his eyes, a small smirk on his face. Jinpachi close his eyes.
After Kinjou politely clapped at the end of the song and Arakita exchanged mischievous whispers with Machimiya, evidently about how terrible Jinpachi’s singing was even though they all knew they could never sing half as well as him, Fuku offered that his classmate show them how well he could sing - “I’ve heard him hum once or twice and he has a great voice” “Oh, come on, Juichi, I’m not that good” - yet as Shinkai took the microphone and the first notes of Rock You Like A Hurricane filled the booth, he turned to Jinpachi and flashed him the brightest grin, confidence and challenge in his knowing gaze, and Jinpachi almost scoffed as he turned back and opened his lips-
Oh.
You.
Jinpachi was too dumbstruck to talk, or scream, or just leave, and it was him, it was his voice, and it sounded way too good now that he listened to it up close, and its owner looked way too hot, and all in all, Jinpachi was in way too much trouble.
“You’re the guy in the shower!!” Jinpachi screamed once the song had ended, which earned him snickers from Arakita and Machimiya, but he truly could not care less about the innuendo at the moment.
His neighbour grinned triumphantly once again. “Shinkai Hayato. Nice to meet you too.”