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Ennoshita Chikara is not going crazy, thank you very much. Except for the part where maybe he is.
It’s Kuroo Tetsurou’s fault, really. Barely minutes after Ennoshita had set foot in the Nekoma gym, Kuroo runs up to him, yammering about a movie.
“Ennoshita-kun, I need to talk to someone about this and since you’re the resident film student, I thought I’d start with you,” Kuroo says with a lazy smile, slinging an arm over Ennoshita’s shoulders.
Ennoshita makes a face and gently pushes his arm off. “What is it?”
“I just saw the coolest mafia movie ever. It’s got death and existentialism and romance—and it’s homoerotic,” Kuroo gushes. “It’s this American movie from 1973. Have you seen it?”
Ennoshita quickly flips through the Rolodex of movies in his head and comes up with nothing. And he’s seen a lot of movies. “What’s the title?”
“It’s called Goncharov. Didn’t you hear about it?” Kuroo asks. “It just made the news. It’s the lost Martin Scorsese film.”
Ennoshita’s train of thought screeches to a halt. He’s seen every Martin Scorsese film and has never in his life heard of anything called Goncharov.
He means to ask Kuroo if he maybe got the title or director confused. He means to ask more about the plot, in case Kuroo got it bungled somewhere along the line. Instead, what comes out is, “What the ever-living fuck are you talking about?”
Kuroo blinks at him. “So I’m gonna take that to mean you haven’t seen it?”
“I’ve never even heard of it. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even exist and you’re just fucking with me,” Ennoshita sighs. “I’ve seen every Scorsese film at least three times each.”
“But I just watched it the other night,” Kuroo insists. He looks up and waves to someone across the gym. “Hey, Kou! Remember that movie I was telling you about last night?”
Ennoshita turns around to see Bokuto hurtling toward them at top speed. “Yeah, bro! It sounded so cool!” Bokuto exclaims. “I wanna see it!”
“I got a bootleg copy in my bag, don’t worry. I’ll show you later.” Kuroo looks at Ennoshita. “You can watch it with us too, if you want.”
“Watch a fake movie? No thanks,” Ennoshita huffs, turning away and heading over to his own captain. His own sensible, non-prank-prone captain.
Unfortunately, trouble follows him.
“Sa’amura,” Kuroo slurs with a wave. “Looking good, captain.”
To Ennoshita’s horror, Daichi blushes. He blushes! Like this is an anime or something! “Hey, Kuroo,” he says. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long of a while. I was just thinking we should hang out later, get reacquainted,” Kuroo says. Somehow, it doesn’t sound sleazy when he says it. “You wanna come to my room later and watch a movie? I just watched this homoerotic mafia movie from the ’70s I think you’d like.”
Ennoshita’s horror intensifies when Daichi says, “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”
“What?” Ennoshita screeches.
Daichi and Kuroo turn to look at him. “Huh?” Daichi asks.
Kuroo sighs and places a hand on Daichi’s shoulder, guiding him away. “It’s a sensitive subject. It’s the only Scorsese film Kara-kun hasn’t seen.”
“Because it doesn’t exist!” Ennoshita calls after them. Neither of them acknowledge him.
From the other side of the gym, Sugawara Koushi stifles a laugh into his hand as he closes the Tumblr app and tucks his phone into his bag.
There’s one last voice of reason Ennoshita knows he can trust: Akaashi Keiji. When they’re done for the day, dinner eaten and the rest of the evening free for their amusement, Ennoshita finds Akaashi by the water fountain outside the dorms. “Keiji, I feel like I’m going nuts, and it’s Kuroo-san’s fault,” he complains.
Akaashi just nods. “Oh, I know the feeling. What did he do this time?”
“Get this, he’s making up something about a lost Martin Scorsese film from 1973,” Ennoshita says with a laugh.
Akaashi doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks quizzical. “What?”
“Yeah, he’s saying there’s some film called Goncharov. But I took a whole course on Scorsese last semester and watched all his films multiple times. I’d know about a lost film,” Ennoshita says.
“Oh.” Akaashi pauses. “I’m sorry, Chikara, but he’s right.”
What. The fuck.
Ennoshita makes some sort of squeaky groan in the back of his throat. Akaashi takes that as permission to keep going. “Kuroo-san told Bokuto-san and me about it last night. He had a bootleg copy.”
“Oh, really? And how do you know he wasn’t just waving around a blank disc?”
“The box art looked legitimate.”
“Excuse me, Keiji.” Ennoshita steps around the corner and screams into the night.
He doesn’t hear, floating through an open window on the second floor in a different wing of the building, Kuroo’s hyena cackle mingling with Suga’s mischievous laugh.