Chapter Text
Looking back at it, Ryuhei didn't think he would be able to pinpoint when it started. When he suspected or even worse, when he knew. It sounded so serious, so heavy, to be expected to answer a bunch of questions he would never have imagined would be directed at him. He didn't expect any of this to happen, damn it. How could he have suspected anything? He didn't know there were any signs to look out for.
But if he had to try, to really try... He could maybe think about a moment, early on in their friendship, where he questioned everything. At the time he would never have been able to express these thoughts, but hindsight was 20/20 and all that crap.
It was the summer during their first year of junior high when Sho finally said the magic words the rest of the boys had been dying to hear: "It's time to get wasted, boys."
Of course, the Kiriyama Family had drank before; a few beers, some wine coolers. They had played up their buzz and pretended they felt the rush a whole lot more than they actually did (well, maybe Hiroshi actually did get quite tipsy a few times). But Sho's father was the owner of an actual bar. The alcohol, the real heavy stuff, was flowing freely. So easily accessible, yet so out of reach.
The three other boys had literally begged him to just steal a bottle or two of actual booze. What harm could it do? They did all kinds of shady things together, they even shoplifted cigarettes all the time, it almost felt lame they hadn't gotten properly drunk yet.
Mitsuru had been a little hesitant to include Kazuo in this at first, considering his background and proper family. Ryuhei had thought this was ridiculous; Kazuo already ditched class and beat the shit out of people with them on the regular, but he couldn't drink vodka?
But Kazuo had told Mitsuru: "I don't mind either way, it could be a fun experience", and that seemed like all Mitsuru needed to hear.
And now, finally, Sho was pulling through for them.
"Fucking awesome, Zuki," Ryuhei had told him with a grin. "When?!"
"Hmm, well, my father has an important appointment in Takamatsu Friday evening. So he's closing down the bar for the night. I figured we could have a boys' night all alone," Sho replied, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"He's leaving you alone?" Hiroshi asked, eyes wide. His mom would never. The house would be likely to be burnt down by the time she returned. "That's so cool!"
"Yes, he trusts me. He thinks I would never do anything he doesn't approve of," Sho sighed. "Oopsie."
“What he don’t know won’t hurt ‘im,” reasoned Mitsuru, only after the plans received the Kazuo stamp of approval, naturally.
“Eh, we’re just taking the cheap crap, right? So he probably won’t even notice,” said Ryuhei.
“Exactly right. We’re looking for a cheap time, anyway!” sang Sho.
And a cheap time was what they would get. When Friday night rolled around, the boys found themselves lazing around on the floor of the Tsukioka apartment, slurring their words and talking about nothing in particular.
Ryuhei, much to his own surprise, could hold his liquor pretty well. That being said, he hadn’t made an attempt to stand or speak much since drowning back a few cans of beer, so he wasn’t sure how long that was going to last. Something about observing the antics of his friends was more amusing. He never much understood the stoic Kazuo and his interest in studying others, but hey, maybe the guy had a point.
Hiroshi was especially fascinating in a drunken state. After the first drink, he did three laps around the living room, a cartwheel off the coffee table and stuck a perfect landing on the couch— a level of athleticism that he didn’t possess sober. After two drinks, he began to sing and roll on the ground. At drink three, he joined the boys in their circle, his voice inappropriately loud each time he chimed into the conversation.
Both Kazuo and Sho seemed rather unaffected by the alcohol. Kazuo was sitting with his legs crossed, the same neutral expression on his face as always. Sho had just finished making him a new drink and was now presenting him with a bright pink cocktail in a tall glass.
"For you, Kazuo," he said in the flirty tone he sometimes used with his friends to get a reaction out of them (not that he ever got a reaction out of Kazuo).
Mitsuru however, visibly cringed.
"Cut that out, Zuki! The Boss is the Boss!" he snapped, moving his hand so quickly he almost spilled his own drink. "And ya shouldn't be makin' 'im girly drinks like that! Boss is hard!"
"What if Boss wants to drink a gay drink?" Hiroshi mused, looking at Kazuo questioningly.
Sho rolled his eyes. "Oh, Mitsu. Do you think a fruity drink will make him any softer?"
“Any softer? He ain’t even soft one bit!” argued Mitsuru.
“Oooh, good. Me neither,” joked Sho.
Grimacing, Mitsuru continued, “That’s exactly what I mean! Why would we wanna take any risks by playin’ into it? One of ya is enough!”
“Enough!” roared Hiroshi. He was buzzed enough that he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to.
“If Boss got into painting nails and drinking girly drinks, I’d about lose my mind.”
“Lose my mind!” repeated Hiroshi, again.
Kazuo, meanwhile, sipped at the cocktail without complaint. He observed not only the three arguing, but Ryuhei as well. Solemn, quiet Ryuhei. Sho followed his gaze.
“Oh, you boys,” sighed Sho. He wasn’t offended by their usual teasing. He knew he kicked ass and had the respect of his gang, and he knew that they were aware of it. Still, he played into the drunken dramatics as he took a seat beside the unusually quiet Ryuhei.
He lifted Ryuhei’s lowered chin with his curled knuckle, using the pad of his thumb to softly wipe a dribble of alcohol from the other boy’s bottom lip. “This is why you’re my favourite, Ryu.”
Ryuhei didn’t know whether he should credit the gentle brush against his lips, or the alcohol wreaking havoc in his stomach, but his heart began to race so madly that he was sure his heart was set to explode. The heat raised to his face, burning his ears and steaming his eyes. But it wasn’t a heart attack, or alcohol poisoning, or whatever, it was different; it was a feeling, one he couldn’t name.
Before he could even begin to stutter a reply, Mitsuru burst out laughing.
"Wow, Ryu, ya never shut up after a couple of beers, but I guess you really can't handle booze," he teased his friend, nodding in his direction.
"No shit!" Hiroshi laughed too. "His face is so red, he looks like my mom's tomato plant!"
This only made Ryuhei's face burn even more. "Shut up, assholes! Ya both red as fuck too, 'n I ain't the one doing fuckin' cartwheels round the living room!" he snapped.
Focusing on them helped a little; it meant he could turn his current confusion into anger, and thus, have an outlet. Because he wasn't sure what the hell had just happened to him.
Sho leaned back, looking amused. "At least you're not quiet anymore," he hummed.
Ryuhei didn’t reply. He feared he’d only get redder if he did. The rest of the night passed by uneventfully. By morning, he’d even managed to forget his little blip. From time to time, the memory would cross his mind, forcing him to wonder if it meant something deeper. He’d shove the thought away as quickly as he could, but that didn’t stop it from coming back later.
One such time occurred during high school. When the time for high school entrance exams rolled around, Kazuo Kiriyama’s family moved to Tokyo so that Kazuo could attend the best of the best. He hadn’t thought to mention this to his friends until the day before, which sent Mitsuru into a depressive spiral of which he couldn't shake until they were well into the school year.
During that time, the gang kicked about aimlessly, unsure of what trouble to get into next. They sure as hell weren’t going to focus on their studies, so they puttered around, getting into petty trouble and waiting for Mitsuru to stop sulking. Hiroshi was often ushered home quickly by his older sister, a third year student, until he could sneak out of the house later in the evening.
Until then, Ryuhei and Sho would walk around town, looking for trouble. They had to be more cautious than before. After all, they may’ve been delinquents, but there were still only two of them. Even Souma’s gang could outnumber them, especially since she’d managed to recruit Mayumi Tendo and Satomi Noda into her ranks since junior high ended.
It was late in spring, nearing summer, after the two had stolen a pack of cigarettes and chocolate squares from the corner store (a routine they had perfected amongst the two of them), when Sho suddenly said, “So there’s this new guy, right?”
Ryuhei immediately groaned and shoved a fistful of chocolate down his throat. He hoped to choke on them.
He had hoped chewing on the chocolate meant Sho wouldn't expect him to react. Apparently, it didn't. Now all that was happening was a very long silence as Sho patiently stared at him and Ryuhei swallowed a way too big piece of chocolate. Maybe his wish of choking would come true.
"What guy?" he finally asked, not sure if he wanted to hear any details. It was weird; between the four of them, Sho definitely talked about his crushes the most. Mitsuru was super secretive and serious about it, and Hiroshi barely seemed to notice girls yet. Ryuhei made a comment here or there when he saw some hot chick, but he had never had real feelings for anyone yet.
But Sho was not shy about talking about what guys he found hot. And it was always some loser who wouldn't even be worthy of his time.
Sho's smile widened slightly as Ryuhei had taken the bait. "Just someone who's come around the bar a lot recently. He's there with friends, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's also there to see moi," he hummed.
Ryuhei wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Come on. How old is the guy anyway?! Don't tell me yer goin' for some sugar daddy 'gain!"
Sho laughed louder now; a silky smooth sound. "Please, hon! He's not that old. Early twenties, maybe."
"Yuck, Zuki. If this guy tries to exploit you, I'm gonna kick his ass." Ryuhei meant it. He didn't know if it was the age difference, or the fact that the idea of two guys together slightly weirded him out anyway, but he felt himself get oddly worked up as he listened to Sho talk about this guy.
"What if I want to be exploited?" Sho joked, lighting his cigarette. "Honestly, Ryu. You get way too worked up about nothing."
“About nothin’?! That sure ain’t a bundle of nothin’ if you ask me! A fruit in his twenties oughta be dating other fruits in their twenties!” argued Ryuhei.
“And I should limit myself to boys my age because the options in our age group are exceptional, right?” quipped Sho, taking a long drag. “It’s not like he’s my dads age or something. I do have a limit.”
“What would your dad say ‘bout this anyway, huh? He’d think this creep is too old for ya, too!”
“Does it matter? Because he’s never going to find out.”
Ryuhei even thought to himself that he shouldn’t be as angry as he was, yet it didn’t stop his feelings from choking him at the throat. “Ya ain’t this stupid, Zuki! Least I thought you weren’t!”
Sho raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. "Why are you so angry about this? It's a big improvement from the last guy's age, too."
"And the last guy fuckin' sucked!" Ryuhei snapped. "Ya couldn't find worse if you tried!"
This made Sho laugh again; the laugh sounded genuine. "Now if that's not the truth. You'd think someone as fabulous as me would only find the best of the best but alas..."
Ryuhei shoved another chocolate into his mouth, hoping this would excuse him from needing more time to think.
Truth was, he doubted Sho would ever find a guy worthy of him. Not that'd he'd ever word that particular thought to Sho; the last thing his friend needed was an ego boost!
But Ryuhei couldn't help but feel strangely protective of him, in a way he didn't about the other two. Now that he forced himself to think about it for once, he could only conclude it was because Sho was into guys. Ryuhei didn't trust guys and definitely not the kinda guys Sho was into.
They stopped across the Shiroiwa park bridge, and leaned over the railing to mindlessly gaze at the water below. Cherry blossom petals littered the surface, but still managed to look pretty even submerged in water.
Ryuhei made a mental note not to look directly at Sho. Something about the scenery was too cutesy, too girlish. If he looked right at him… Well, he didn’t know what. It just felt like it was something he shouldn’t do.
“So I take it that I probably shouldn’t tag along on his road trip to Tokyo this summer,” said Sho, breaking the silence.
“Are you outta your goddamn mind?! Following some creep across the damn country?!” roared Ryuhei, whipping around so fast that chocolate squares went flying everywhere. “If he doesn’t kill ya, I will!”
But then, when Ryuhei looked directly at Sho, his rage extinguished as the boy burst into a fit of laughter. A gentle breeze fanned across the bridge, sending loose pedals trickling down around them.
“I’m kidding!” cackled Sho. “You should see the look on your face!”
Ryuhei wasn't sure he would like to see his own face right now. Especially now that his frustration had washed away; replaced by a strange feeling of what he could best identify as helplessness.
"Honestly," Sho said, his tone softening as he studied Ryuhei closer. "You're a mess, hon. But you sure are adorable."
Before Ryuhei had any time to react, Sho reached a hand out and dusted something out of his hair. A few pink pedals seemed to have landed there earlier.
Although Sho's hand didn't touch his skin, Ryuhei felt as if it had burnt him. At least it shook him out of his trance-like state.
He knocked Sho's hand away with his own and took a step back. "Lay off, Zuki! Don't try to make me the mess here! I aint the one with daddy issues!" he whined.
“Daddy issues?” whistled Sho. “Isn’t that rich—” He stopped himself suddenly. He didn’t need to say why.
Sho had the uncanny ability to cut anybody in half with his words, dishing retorts and insults that had damn near driven enemies to suicide in the past. The frightening part of his power was the casual way in which he could use it.
For Ryuhei, however, Sho bit his tongue. What he might consider a playful rebuttal might genuinely hurt his friend, so he smiled instead, and replied, “I suppose you’re just smarter than I am. You’ve never devoted your heart to a doomed romance.”
Ryuhei again stared at the water beneath the bridge, pondering his own reflection; the reflection of a boy notably not in love, as told by his own friend, so it had to be true. No, he never devoted his heart to a doomed romance. Surely, he knew better.
By his third and final year of high school, however, things were bound to change.