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ice cream.
"This is nice, ne, Momo?" Eiji-senpai says softly from beside him, after a drawn-out silence that's kind of comfortable.
"Aa," Momo agrees, biting enthusiastically around the edge of his wafer cone. As he looks out over the bridge, the reflection of the sun seems to swim just beneath the water's surface, like a gigantic submerged coin. The glitter and sway of it makes Momo squint, makes him want to shield his eyes. Something about it reminds him of Echizen and his Twist Serve. He turns around, the railings cold against his back.
"I usually eat ice cream with Oishi, you know..." Eiji-senpai goes on, though he doesn't finish, just licks at the pink globe of cream sitting atop his own cone. He has his eyes closed, Momo observes as he casts a glance to his left.
"Yeaaah," Momo answers slowly. "I know that already." He's sure there was a touch of guilt in Eiji-senpai's voice. He wonders what on earth Eiji-senpai has to feel guilty about. More than that, Momo wonders why he's the one Eiji-senpai has decided to confide in. It isn't every weekend Eiji-senpai calls him out of the blue and asks to meet him in the city. Actually, this is a first.
Still, Eiji-senpai had bought him the ice cream, and that's really all that matters. Momo had been pushing for a full-on lunch, but Eiji had not been hungry enough, so ice cream will have to do.
He lets the quiet stretch, shifting his elbows on the railings to get more comfortable. Finally, the question burns his tongue too much. "Is there something on your mind, senpai?"
Eiji is silent for a moment. A seagull dives overhead, swooping down towards the water with a shrill cry. Momo watches it skim the sun and rise back up, empty-beaked and still hungry. His stomach grumbles in response.
"Fuji said something odd to me the other day." Eiji starts to hum a short, strange tune all of a sudden, but before Momo can catch it and submit it to memory it cuts off abruptly. "It doesn't matter... just." Eiji-senpai shrugs his shoulder. Momo feels it rather than sees it. He hadn't noticed Eiji was so close.
"Oh?"
"No matter," Eiji repeats, and turns a swift, dazzling grin at him.
For a split second, Momo believes that Eiji-senpai has just laid all his cards out on the table; there is hope in that grin, a question punctuated by the tilt of Eiji's head. Confused, Momo blinks, shrugs too. It is, by far, the strangest conversation he's ever had. "Okay."
"I'm excited about the rest of the tournament."
"Yeah. We're gonna wipe the floor with those other teams," Momo says, glad they're back on a topic he understands. "That Hyotei was strong, but we beat them."
"Mmhmm." Eiji-senpai winks at him.
Momo stands there for a moment with his mouth open, trying to think of something else to say. Eiji-senpai is uncharacteristically quiet, compared to how he usually is. It's unsettling. Any other time Echizen would've been around, too, or one of the others, and Momo wonders if that has anything to do with it. This is strange. The atmosphere is... loaded, he supposes.
"Eiji-senpai," he begins.
"Nyahh," Eiji-senpai says at the same time, in a frustrated tone. "This is no good."
"H-hey, what do you mean by that?!" What does he have to complain about? He called Momo out, after all.
Instead of answering, Eiji-senpai turns to face Momo and leans forward.
"Huh?" says Momo, eyes widening. Somehow, he knows a question is about to be answered, but he's not sure if he's ready. Not sure if he'd ever be ready. "Yeah, so, practice was hard this morning..." He wants to smack himself in the forehead, but he's incapable of movement. Momo just keeps talking, even though he's sure something is on its way, something he doesn't want to have to deal with. Eiji-senpai is really, really, ridiculously close now; Momo can see the flecks of brown in Eiji's red eyebrows, the slight dimples at the corners of his mouth that are there regardless of whether he's smiling or not. They get closer and closer, more defined.
Eiji-senpai is not smiling.
"It was touch and go there for a while, with Tezuka-buchou losing to the arrogant guy - I didn't know what-" If only he could stop babbling. It's like he's not even in control of his vocal chords anymore.
Eiji's nose bumps against Momo's and they both step back as if burned. Momo's rambling cuts off abruptly, and they both let out duel hysterical laughs that taper off into an equally hysterical silence. In the heat of panic, they both move back in. Momo always believed in finishing whatever he started. Though truth be told, he isn't sure if he had started this.
He isn't very sure of anything.
"What?" Momo says, right before his mouth can't move anymore.
He doesn't know what to do, so he just stands there, utterly frozen. Eiji's lips are cold and sticky from the ice cream. Momo can smell strawberry on Eiji's breath, starts to get a taste of it in his mouth. The faint drone of the city in the distance gets lost under the thumping in Momo's ears, and all he can hear is his own heartbeat, rapid and terrified.
What is probably a few seconds draws on for what seems like hours. Between panic, confusion, and something darker that he forcefully holds down, Momo wonders what he should do now. Eiji-senpai is... is... well. Momo opens his eyes quickly, having not realised he'd closed them in the first place.
He knows he has to act, but for the life of him he can't figure out how.
Finally, Eiji pulls back, steps away, his own eyes wide and a little shocked.
"Where? Um..." Momo says, looking down at his shoes, out over the bridge, anywhere except at the other boy.
"Hm," is all Eiji-senpai has to say in response, which isn't helpful at all - he's supposed to know what's going on, since he's older and knows more about tennis and has played doubles millions of times.
A slow trail of coldness runs down over Momo's knuckles. He looks down and sees that his ice cream has started to melt quite badly; there's a sticky vanilla tear making its way over the back of his hand. He quickly brings it up to his mouth and licks it off. Any lingering sensation of Eiji-senpai's lips, any remnant of the strawberry flavour that had been on Eiji-senpai's tongue, is swept up in a vanilla burst.
"I-I have to get home, yeah?" Momo tosses his cone over the side of the bridge, not caring a whit if there's a boat passing underneath. "I have to... there's this, and I really should... got to practice... um. Going to watch some martial arts videos with my dad. You know how it is."
Eiji-senpai stares at him. "Oh. Okay, Momo-chan." Around the white of the plaster on his cheek, his skin is a mild pink. He closes one eye and gives Momo a soft smile.
"Okay. Good." Momo has never, in his entire life, felt more awkward and confused. The only thing he's sure of is that he has to get out of there, make his feet move - one in front of the goddamned other! - and walk away.
He finally manages to turn, take a step.
"Hoi, Momo," Eiji says again, this time with less guilt in his voice.
Momo stops, turns, stares at Eiji-senpai's mouth because his eyes are too wide and bright and knowing.
"We should play doubles more often, nyah?"
Momo runs a hand through the back of his hair, scratches his neck. Shifts from one foot to the other, then back again. "Ah, sure. Yeah."
He leaves, trying not to break into a run even though the urge is there.
beer.
Momo wants to talk to Echizen.
Echizen would no doubt tell him to piss off and go get him a Ponta.
For once, Momo would've been grateful for the excuse to leave the party in favour of fetching Echizen's favourite drink. However, Echizen isn't around. Echizen isn't even in Japan. He's gone ahead a bit before Momo, just like he said way back when, and there's no drinks machine near by, anyway.
A quarter of the original Seigaku team aren't in the country; another quarter haven't bothered to turned up. The remaining half are well on their way to being drunk. Oishi is off playing father, Eiji-senpai... well, Momo hasn't seen Eiji since he can remember.
Even Kaidoh hadn't shown, so Momo can't entertain himself with baiting the viper. In a strange way, he kind of misses Kaidoh.
As far as reunions go, it's a fucking joke.
Momo scowls up at the small, square picture pinned to the wall above their table. Fuji-senpai had put it up there when he'd arrived. "A good memory," he'd said, though Momo figures the only way to honour a good memory is if all those involved are present to appreciate it.
The nine faces staring down at him look too young and fresh. Back then, such things as the Regional Tournament were the biggest deal imaginable.
He averts his eyes.
As it is, there's only him, Fuji-senpai, Taka-san, Inui-senpai, Horio, and some guy he only vaguely recognises with a sharply-cut bowl of black hair surrounding his face. One of the ball boys, he figures. The kid has a tattoo twined around his left wrist. Momo wonders what it means, where he got it, how much time has passed. Has it really been that much?
He orders himself another beer, leans back against his cushion, and only half-listens to the steady chatter around him.
singles.
It's raining heavily when Momo steps out onto the pavement. He's immediately engulfed in the noise and motion of the city, even at this late hour and in such bad weather. Tokyo stops for no force of nature. He loses his bearings for a moment, until Inui-senpai claps a firm hand on his shoulder and twists him in the right direction.
"Keep walking straight, Momoshiro," Inui-senpai says in his crisp, slow voice. "When you come to the first bus station, stop."
"Aa, thanks," he says, and hears Inui-senpai snort from behind him as he pushes on down the way.
"Take care!"
Momo waves vaguely over his shoulder.
The concrete is all wrong, tilted slightly to the left. Momo tries to focus on the steady stream of people heading towards him, tries his best to walk past them but ends up bumping into them instead. He quickens his pace, deciding to put his faith in his instincts. The sea of random faces speeds up like a fast-forward on a DVD player, making him dizzy, hurtling towards him at an uncontrollable pace - pale, dark, pale, dark, the blue of an overcoat, the red of a handbag. He swears, ducks out of the way of an old woman carrying a basket of fish. The smell that rises in his nostrils for a moment makes him feel sick.
Colours bleed together; jagged movement, followed by swirls, followed by spirals. Momo hadn't noticed at which point he'd gone from stumbling to lurching down the street but, regardless of the churning in his stomach, it feels good to be moving things along at his own pace for once.
At one point he is sure he runs straight past Tezuka-buchou, but when he grinds to a halt and turns, the all-too familiar flicks of messy brown hair are lost in a tsunami of black umbrellas.
Christ.
"Buchou!" he tries, but his voice doesn't come out right. The rain plasters his clothes to his skin, the collar of his shirt too tight. His vision shudders, teeth chatter, chills in his bones even though the night is fairly muggy.
When no response from Tezuka is forthcoming, Momo continues on his way home.
By the fifth block, Momo recalls that Tezuka-buchou is in England, anyway.
He also realises that he's passed many a glowing bus station, but not stopped at all.
He anticipates a fight with his father, his mother crying, when he finally gets home. Being called a waste of space, a slacker, or worse - a drunk. That thought sickens him more than all the alcohol in his system, more than the insane kaleidoscope of Tokyo rushing by.
He veers to the left, down a dark walk-way and out into peace, at last.
There's a small park sitting in a pool of murky orange streetlight. It's like a haven against the shadows lurking at the corners of Momo's vision.
He sits on a swing and digs his heels in the dirt, drizzle darting in streaks across him. He puts his head in his hands, breathes in deeply to clear his mind, out to expel a long, low sigh. Curses again.
When he looks up the world around him takes a moment to focus. This part of suburbia is vaguely familiar, he realises, though he hasn't been here in a long, long time. It's hard to tell, but he thinks he could navigate his way around, once he's sobered up some.
From somewhere far off, he hears the dismal cawing of crows.
"Fuck off," Momo mutters.
He closes his eyes again, just for a second or two. When he opens them the sky is clearer, only a few dark clouds drifting above. The black is now dark blue; the day is approaching fast. He can't recall when it stopped raining, but he's still soaked and freezing, shivering badly.
Momo rises and walks to warm up.
Before long, he's standing in front of a neat garden, a short, lattice fence lining the edges. Something about it has made him stop. The sun has risen, ages ago, or so it seems. Momo wonders why his breath is so laboured, since he hasn't run for ages.
A door stands in front of him that brings up a twinge of nostalgia. He decides to knock, since he's still not entirely sure where he is.
An age passes before a shock of red and a violent scream of "Momo!" greets him.
"Ow," he grumbles. Then: "Hi, Eiji-senpai. Long time,", only it comes out as, "H-huhh... Eee-su, hung t-ta."
"Momo!" Eiji repeats, his eyes wide with worry. He's yelling, way too loud. Momo clenches his teeth shut against the sound.
"Uh-uh-I." He hopes to God Eiji can decipher what he's getting at, because he can't feel his lips (or feet, for that matter) and the whole universe is shuddering, banging a ruckus inside his head.
"Come in, come in!" Eiji hollers. A hand curls around Momo's shoulder and draws him forward, into the vast blue of Eiji's eyes and then the blessed darkness beyond.
doubles.
"I went to college. Business Studies, 'cause my dad's set on me following his footsteps." Momo cradles a mug of hot chocolate in his palms, the heat soothing. There's a blanket draped around his shoulders, all soft and warm. "Their tennis club was pretty lame. I only stayed for the first couple of months, just to get back into it, you know?" The fact that his college tennis club had been a few levels below that of Seigaku's tennis club had been very disheartening. He hadn't lasted long there. There just hadn't been the same amount of stimulation; most of the matches had seemed more like warm-ups to Momo. There had been no real connection between the players, which had only made him miss the old days more.
"Mm." Eiji nods lightly, non-committal. He's sitting on the floor at Momo's feet, after giving up the bed so Momo can be comfortable.
Momo stares down at the shirt he's wearing. It's borrowed, as well as the old pair of Eiji's dad's trousers. Brown corduroy, no less. Still, it beats the soggy jeans he'd had on before and he is, in all seriousness, grateful for the change of clothing, no matter how bad he's sure he looks.
"So then... the course didn't work out like I planned, either..." Momo inwardly cringes. "A difference of opinion between me and the tutors."
"You had fights?" Eiji says, narrowing his eyes at Momo.
Momo starts to protest, then stops himself, figuring it's way too late to deny the fact. "Aa, I had fights."
"That's our Momo."
Momo's stomach lurches at the wording. There is no 'our' - hadn't been for years.
At least he isn't the only one who makes slip-ups now and then.
"Well, it wasn't my fault. Most of the time." He takes a cautious sip of the hot chocolate, not wanting to overdo it since his stomach is still feeling fragile.
Eiji gives him a smirk. "Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't make the get-together. My sister had her birthday yesterday and I had to stay home. Kind of annoyed I couldn't see everyone."
"You wouldn't have anyway," says Momo. "Only half turned up."
"Oh... that's a shame." Eiji's shoulders drop.
"You don't keep in touch with the others?"
"Yeah, I email, mostly. I see Oishi and Fuji regularly, Taka now and then, when I go to the sushi bar. Got a message from Tezuka the other day. He didn't say much about England. He never really said much about anything, did he?" Eiji grins. "But it's good to hear from him. I speak to Ochibi on the phone sometimes."
Momo nods.
"And now you." Eiji nudges his foot against Momo's leg and lets it rest there. The press of it makes the whole thing seem very real. Up until then, Momo could've believed he was dreaming all this, that he was still slumped somewhere on a park swing. "Not that it isn't great to catch up, but my house is a bit out of your way, ne, Momo?" His foot rubs up and down Momo's calf.
"I wanted to get away from the busy streets," says Momo, nudging back with his leg. "I... ah, heh..." He brushes the back of his hair with one hand, awkwardly. "I had too much to drink."
"I could tell," says Eiji with a smirk, and winks at him.
For some reason, Momo is reminded of something from a long time ago. It's not a clear memory, just a feeling. He tries to place it but it doesn't come, though the atmosphere seems almost... baited. He finds himself at a loss for words.
Eiji sighs suddenly, biting his lower lip. "There's something I was gonna do, but I didn't. Fuji-chan said I should've." Eiji hops up onto the bed next to Momo, his weight dipping the mattress so that Momo has no choice but to lean into him. "He sees too much."
"Aa, Fuji-senpai's all-knowing look. You know nothing but trouble will come of it," Momo agrees, only half paying attention to his words because he's wondering what it is that Eiji was going to do, when he was going to do it, and why he's telling Momo about it now of all times.
"Nyah, Momoshiro, I'm just gonna do this."
Again, Momo wonders what-
But then he stops wondering, as Eiji is breathing very closely and hotly against his cheek. He can see out of the corner of his eye that Eiji has moved. He's a blur of cream skin and fiery hair, and as Momo turns to splutter, "When was the last time you played tenni-" Eiji kisses him.
He remembers the bridge in an instant. He remembers that he mentally blocked it out, after he'd got home, mere hours after it had happened. Only now, they're in Eiji's room, not in a public place where anyone could see. They're older and maybe not wiser, but Momo at least has been through a lot since. There's no sticky ice cream sliding down his hand, just the heat of his hot chocolate and the very faint slosh as his fingers try to keep hold of the mug.
And unlike before, years ago, they haven't jumped apart. Momo is too struck-dumb to do anything but let it happen. After all, he had been curious back then. Terrified, too, at the thought of kissing another boy, but undoubtedly curious as to why he'd liked it. The wrongness wasn't so strong now, though. The fact that he didn't, and had never felt like this when kissing girls wasn't a sudden realisation. He'd known that for years, something else he could thank Eiji-senpai for, he now realises.
Gah! He lets his mouth part ever so slightly, turns his head to the side at the same time Eiji does so their noses bump, and yet they still do not pull apart. Although he feels thirteen again in some ways - the panic, not knowing what to do - it's kind of good to be back here again. There's no way of mistaking it, since Eiji had kissed him first. Someone wants him, if even for a moment or to test out a theory or whatever.
Momo half expects Eiji to taste of strawberry, but he doesn't. He tastes of eel tea; all scorching and exotically rich. It overwhelms Momo and he pushes his tongue further into Eiji's mouth to get a better grasp before it's taken away from him.
"H-hold on, Momo," Eiji gasps, breaking away. "Go easy." A hand comes up and slides around the back of Momo's neck.
"Shit, this is all wrong," Momo mutters, and lets Eiji kiss him again. He's too exhausted and relieved to care if he's pushing too much, or not doing it right. So he leaves Eiji-senpai to lead him, turns his face more so they fit better.
Eiji seems to enjoy it, because whenever he breaks away he comes back immediately. Momo doesn't mind the strange pecking-like kisses. It's kissing, and it's getting wetter, and it's kind of really very nice.
The mug slips and falls, the dregs of the chocolate probably going all over the floorboards at his feet. When Momo tries to turn and pick it up, Eiji stops him. Although he feels bad about making a mess, especially after Eiji-senpai was kind enough to make him a drink, Momo can't refuse as he's pushed backwards, falling against a soft duvet, his face covered in Eiji-senpai's hair and mouth.
A hand works its way under the hem of his borrowed shirt and slides a little way up his stomach, then around his side. Eiji-senpai had always been straightforward, but this is nothing like Momo ever imagined. He hooks his fingers into the back of Eiji's jeans and as if prompted Eiji climbs fully atop him. The bed squeaks. The squirming makes Momo gasp, makes Eiji laugh lightly at the back of his throat.
There's nothing to deny. Nowhere to run off to. He's not thirteen now. He's a man. He's a man and he's scared shitless and he's kissing another bloke, and damnit, it's brilliant.
Eiji presses down with his hips and Momo loses his train of thought. There's a hardness that wasn't there with any of the girls he's seen in the past. It's half-exciting, half-frightening, and he pushes up against it, learning Eiji-senpai in ways he never thought possible.
Eiji mumbles nonsense into his neck and jerks his hips, and Momo can only hold on throughout and stifle his moans until there's no more breath in his lungs, nothing left to give.
Well, the trousers are ruined. He's going to have to wash them before handing them back to Eiji to return to his father's wardrobe. If Momo ever does meet Eiji-senpai's parents, he's not going to be able to look them in the eyes, for sure.
The house is still and quiet, except for the irregular thrum of Eiji-senpai's breathing nearby. He hasn't spoken yet, and Momo is loath to break the silence. What could he possibly say in wake of their exchange? Thanks very much for reminding me that... for getting me off... for, for setting it in stone... No, he can't.
And yet, he is thankful, if still a bit shaky. The question that had been plaguing him for years has finally been answered in full. Unlike before, during their strange encounter on the bridge, he does not want to run away. He'll face it, whatever Eiji-senpai's intentions are.
One door in Momo's life has been opened and closed at the same time. It'll take some getting used to, yes, but he can now quit wandering dazedly from relationship to relationship, never finding what he's looking for in the curve of breasts and the softness of arms. It may result in a life alone, for all he knows. Though for now, there is some resolve.
For the moment he's quite contented to lie back, forget the rest, and drift under the press of Eiji-senpai's arm as it settles across his stomach, the tuneful hum Eiji-senpai mutters next to him.
how it is.
"Hoi, Momo," Eiji sighs against his shoulder. "Fujiko was right about you, after all." He lets out a little laugh, his breath slipping down the collar of Momo's shirt.
"Hm?" he replies vaguely, shifting on the bunched duvet under his back.
"That we're the same. Took us long enough, ne?"
"Aa," Momo replies, staring up at the faded polaroid stuck to Eiji's pinboard above. Nine young boys smile down at him, promise shining in their eyes, a brilliant sun lighting them, almost animating them. He can suddenly remember the mountain as vividly as if it were yesterday and the real yesterday was nothing but a bad dream.
Slowly, Momo starts to smile back at them.
~fin~