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It was seamless, accepting Maki into their team.
Itsuki meant it. Apart from the first couple of issues that came up at the beginning - and Itsuki would argue that it was a fifty fifty kind of blame - everyone had taken to Maki like the sea to a fish.
Generally speaking, it should be different. Maki should not be so easily adaptable to a new team, because in simple terms, he was a genius. Or at least, that was how it appeared at first glance.
A genius… except that excuse had died pretty quickly for another simple reason. The fact that an entire team got beaten so easily by a beginner… in the end, it told more about the team than the beginner, and both Maki and Touma had easily identified that.
No, Maki was not a soft tennis genius. He was certainly a fast learner, a good athlete, and better than average, but he was not a sports genius.
But he remained a genius. That was why the team took to him so fast, despite Maki completely taking a hold of their reigns.
Maki was a genius at people, patterns. That was what he was. It was almost unfair, how seamless it made everything about him.
He manipulated his own teammates with ease, pushing them in the direction he wanted to guide them in with a few words here and there, stirring anger and revolt only to gauge them better, train them better. He won matches by reading his opponents and showing discord among them to destabilise them. And in a matter of days, it was as though he had always been there.
It was a gift. Itsuki did not doubt it. It was what made the guy worth admiring - to an extent, Itsuki had pride.
What was most interesting about the guy was that he was entertaining, Itsuki supposed. He talked frankly, and yet there was something sneaky about him. It was very amusing, that was sure, and Itsuki thrived on entertainment.
And yet, Maki never sought to get entertainment out of others’ misfortune. Itsuki supposed that was what it meant too, to be good at people, to understand people. When he changed next to Maki for the first time, he already knew what he was doing, because he had observed that side of Maki. The brutal honesty that could hurt, but only meant well. The encouragements even in the face of failure- not willful ignorance of failure, but rather taking advantage of it. That was why Itsuki knew Maki would not comment.
In fact, out of the corner of his eyes, Itsuki had seen Maki smile.
It was strange. They were similar, yet different. Maybe it was because of his childhood, but Itsuki had never been that empathetic with others.
With Maki had come Mitsue. She was like them too - and more like Itsuki than Maki. There was this malice within them, of those that had the potential of hurting them. Itsuki would not say he spoke to her all that often on one on one, but did it matter? They interacted a lot nonetheless, and Itsuki found that they could have a similar humour.
Itsuki was not one to consider social mechanics as much as he applied them, or was excluded from them, but he understood that Mitsue was only able to enter their group thanks to Maki. It was, once again, seamless. Impressive. Itsuki only noticed after the time with the cross-dressing. Maki acted like a bridge. He was, genuinely, impressive.
But again, Itsuki was not like that. He thrived on entertainment. And people got close through showing emotion, even he knew that. Maki was calm by nature, his poker face could be said to be greater than Mitsue, who simply qualified to be a tsundere at times, or so one could say. The times Itsuki saw him genuinely laughing were at the barbecue with that Ouji guy and his dog. So, Itsuki had a plan to get under Maki’s skin.
Just a bit of bonding, all harmless, he swore. It was just for fun. He would not hurt anyone this time. Just harmless pranks, right? Itsuki wanted to see Maki lose his composure, see under the side of the genius who kept helping them out. That should be a fun social experiment.
When he packed the mayo that morning and Namie looked at him weird, that’s exactly what he said.
“You don’t do social experiments,” she pointed out suspiciously.
He snickered.
“Of course I do! Don’t worry, no one will get hurt.”
“Now I’m worried.”
“Hehe, why though? Everyone has to go through a little bit of teasing between friends at the beginning. Now it’s his turn…”
Seeing the mischief written all over her little brother’s face, Namie grimaced. Must be about the new guy then.
Oh well. All fun between friends, right? Nevermind, Namie did not want to be a part of this.
And so Itsuki snickered as he got away with his impending pranks.
The first idea, as previously mentioned, involved mayo. Specifically, it involved sneaking mayo into Maki’s bento. Not too much, just enough for a nasty surprise, a whole lot of bickering, and then some more untouched food afterwards - wouldn’t want the strategist of their team to starve, right?
Unfortunately, the whole difficulty of the plan was getting Maki not to notice Itsuki lurking near his schoolbag.
Maki was talking with Mitsue when Itsuki stepped into their classroom. He had waited until Touma had been gone talking to someone outside before starting scheming. Touma knew Itsuki, it would not be fun if he spoiled the surprise.
“Hi Makimaki,” he grinned, “and Mitsue too. Having fun?”
Mitsue frowned at him distastefully.
“It’s too hot to have fun, why are you even asking.”
Maki, however, learned back on his chair, looking Itsuki up and down until his gaze settled on the small budge in Itsuki’s pocket. He smiled placidly.
“Yo. Not often we see you here.”
See? This was the whole difficulty of the plan. That was what made it fun too.
…No, not really. That was the annoying part. The real funny part was the result. Itsuki lied, otherwise he would never get anything done. Even pranks.
“What, is this space reserved or something? Rintarou’s chatting with the captain, got no one to talk to.”
“Heeeeh…” Maki said, extending the vowel with amusement.
That bastard already had a guess, did he not?
Nevermind. Itsuki should have expected it. It was no use underestimating the sixth sense of that guy, or anything else about him, after what happened when he entered the club.
Itsuki would just have to do with Maki knowing he was up to something. He grinned some more.
“Can’t I?” he said, playing into it.
“Wait, why do I feel like you’re up to no good,” even Mitsue was onto him, now.
“Your imagination.”
Maki stared, unblinking. Then tilted his head with that smile.
“Sure. Make yourself at home.”
After that, it should have been easy. But every time Itsuki bent down to scratch his ankles - id est, to sneak something in Maki’s bento, which was in his beg - the bastard would smugly draw his bag in between his feet with an innocent expression.
The plan failed.
The second attempt at the first prank, the next day, Itsuki changed the strategy. He brought decoy.
“That’s just stupid, that’s not how you solve an equation!"
“It doesn't matter, it’s a metaphore! A me-ta-phore! For soft tennis doubles!”
“Well, the metaphore doesn’t work if the maths don’t work!”
Itsuki glanced back at Shingo and Tsubasa, which he had dragged to Maki’s classroom during the break.
“Someone should break them up before they get a teacher on us,” he subtly jabbed.
Mitsue agreed with a groan.
“Makiii,” she complained, “go enlighten them or something, maybe they’ll stop yelling then. Boys…”
“Sibling boys,” Itsuki added pointedly.
“Hey, that’s right! Just ask Maki!” Shingo exclaimed after hearing them. “You agree with me, right Maki? Tell that guy!”
“Maki’s gonna tell you you need to make the maths work!”
“I suppose I don’t have a choice,” Maki then made a show of sighing and standing up. “I’ll be right back.”
He went over to both boys, once more managing to endear himself to both sides as he explained that, in fact, numbers were important to construct a meaningful metaphore. The guy was a nerd, that was for sure. Anyways.
Itsuki took out the mayo.
He opened Maki’s bag.
The cat got out of the bag.
Literally.
Itsuki jumped back with a yelp as a tiny black cat jumped out from its hiding place inside of Maki’s bag. He almost fell off, and Mitsue, uncaring, got her phone out in time to see the kitten dash out from desk to desk until it reached the open window, effectively leaving the room in chaos.
“What happened?”
“Where did it come from!”
“That scared me!”
“Shi, shi, shi…” Mitsue filmed the whole thing. “Maki, you’re keeping secrets aren’t you?”
Maki made his way back, grabbing his bag before Itsuki could make another try.
“Ah, you found me out,” he jested, then sending a smirk Itsuki’s way, “better luck next time, I guess. Black cat and all…”
“You don’t believe that, don’t you?” Mitsue barked.
“‘Course not.”
And then Itsuki realised. He had gotten pranked instead. Left behind in his shit, it took him a full minute to understand that. Then, he raised his fist and…
“That dipshit!”
And that was how the prank war began.
“Really?”
Yuu nodded, giving Touma the water bottle.
“Yeah. It's all in good fun, of course, no one is getting hurt. Itsuki-kun is gloating today because he actually managed to put mayo in Maki’s meal by making him switch it up with someone else.”
“Heh,” Touma smiled behind the cap of the bottle. “I imagine Maki had no reaction. He likes everything.”
Yuu laughed, watching the rest of the boys run around the training ground.
“Yes, but Itsuki is conveniently ignoring that. Also, if anyone asks, the scores are 8 to 5 in Maki’s favour.”
Touma snickered.
“Seems like our little psycho found his match.”
Itsuki could not believe this worked.
Rintarou was currently busy fussing over Maki’s drenched figure, holding out a towel for him to dry himself off somewhat.
“It’s fine,” Maki laughed, for real, “water’s fine.”
“Maki, you got yeeted into the pool,” Yuu argued from the side.
“I was overdue for a jump, don’t you think Itsuki?”
Ha. He was going to get in trouble. No matter, Maki was admitting defeat with that.
“Heh, me? You’re the one who slipped, what do I have to do with that?”
Maki put a hand on his shoulder, like a friendly pat, all smiling.
Wickedly.
“I slipped,” he agreed cheerfully. “But don’t worry, we’re two.”
“What?”
Maki took a dive back into the pool. Dragging Itsuki in by the ear.
“Aaah! It’s cold!” Itsuki immediately complained upon reaching the surface again. “My clothes are a mess!”
“You deserved that!” Tsubasa called him out from the sidelines.
Itsuki drew his tongue out at that, refusing to accept this.
“If this is how it’s going to be… fuck subtlety!”
He threw himself at Maki, who yelped as he was dragged back under for half a second, and it turned into a whole session of tickling and playfighting.
See? That was what Itsuki called bonding.
It was a shame that it only happened after a whole month of prank war.
“Okay, okay, stop it! I admit defeat! Stop! My lungs…”
“Hah, where’s your stamina gone now! I win!”
Maki was human after all.
Just another kid, under the genius.
“If this is how it’s gonna be… new training regimen, everyone!”
“No, don’t tell me…” Rintarou pulled a face.
They ended up pulling up the watervolley net up in the middle of the lower part of the pool, and Maki forced them to waddle thigh deep in water to run after a ball with their soft tennis rackets.
Thankfully no one fell and ruined the equipment. Touma would have flipped out on them.
But the truth, Itsuki realised later, was that despite all his efforts, it was not the kid under the genius.
It was the genius under the kid. Or perhaps not quite. Perhaps, Itsuki was wrong.
“They’re taking their sweet time,” Nao complained.
“Now, now…” Taiyou attempted to temper his boredom.
But it was true, Maki and Touma were late for practice.
“I’ll go look for Touma, okay?” Rintarou stood up.
“Then I’ll go find Maki,” Itsuki volunteered, sneaking a lizard in his pocket.
One last prank for the road, right?
Rintarou watched him with a knowing look, but eventually sighed and allowed it.
“The rest of you stay there, alright?”
“Yes mom!” their teammates echoed in chorus.
Itsuki snickered, but he did not stay to hear Rintarou argue against his title.
He beelined for Maki’s homeroom, where he knew Maki spent most of his time when he was not at the library or the field. Knowing him, he had gotten lost in his almanac again. It would not be the first time.
Now, after having dragged a variety of people into that room, Itsuki had many memories of their teammates sharing a couple of tables and roughhousing during meal break, and Maki getting lost in his book.
What a nerd. But it made Itsuki smile just to think about it.
They’d really all changed since Maki had arrived. That genius kid.
Ah. There he was. He was in fact still sitting at his desktop, but he was not reading the almanac Touma’s brother had gotten him. Strange, but no matter. Itsuki prepared to walk in, as discretely as possible.
At the same time, someone else walked in using the backdoor of the classroom.
“Maki.”
It was Touma.
Itsuki, out of instinct, went to hide behind the wall next to the door, peeking through the windows above him.
Maki closed his notebooks.
“Oh, Touma? Why are you…”
“Deputee meeting took more time than planned. What about you? Why aren’t you at training yet?”
Maki blinked, seemingly dumbfounded.
“Training? Oh, I… I was doing homework.”
Touma tilted his head.
“That’s strange. Why? Did you forget practice?”
A pause.
“Sort of.”
There was a long silence after that. Then, Touma went to take a seat in front of Maki.
Neither of them wore smiles. It was usual for Touma, but Maki seemed… contemplative. Not as sharp. Dulled.
The curve of his lips inched downwards, almost.
“When you say things like that,” Touma eventually said in a sigh, “there’s always more to it. Isn’t there?”
Maki did not answer. Touma insisted quietly.
“Are you going to tell me?”
Itsuki felt like this conversation was not for him to hear. But he was almost transfixed. Unable to move. He kept eavesdropping.
The space was charged with a heavy cloud of unspoken feelings that Itsuki could not decipher. Yet he still felt its weight.
“Didn’t have time to do it before. I got a little wet.”
Touma did not rise to the bait.
“I heard about that. You’re lucky you didn’t catch a cold. Next time don’t try to be so tough. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
Tough.
It’s not like Itsuki truly had been oblivious to the subtle nuances floating around. He was not like the rest of his teammates. He knew about that kind of thing.
Hiding in plain sight. Sadism, being weird… that was a part of it. Because what was underneath was uglier.
Itsuki knew he was ugly, somewhere inside. That he relished violence the way his mother relished hurting him. The way he wanted no one to ask, and wanted to forget all about it.
But that was the problem with kids, they never did forget. And Itsuki was still one.
Maybe the reason Itsuki and Maki were so similar was because Maki, too, had this barrier that hid him, whether or not he wanted it to. That barrier that few could understand, because it took living it for oneself.
“I don’t want to talk.”
“...Maki. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
It was another moment before Maki answered. But when he finally did, it was to explain himself.
“I really did forget about practice, you know?”
Maki was a genius at people, Itsuki thought again.
“It’s something I used to do, when I was too cowardly to go home. I’d do homework after school. In school. Just taking some time with my work.”
That meant that, contrarily to Itsuki who was only aware of the barrier between him and the world at specific times like now, Maki was self-aware all the time. He was a genius at recognising psychology, patterns. Numbers.
Maki was the kind of guy that kept smiling placidly, that witnessed his own age, and then took distance with it because he knew that something about him could not get out of himself. Took distance because the frustrations, the illness in one’s skin, was not worth it. So he took his distance, like an adult, and understood himself like he understood a soft tennis match. And he did not talk about it. And he hid it.
And precisely because he was a genius…
“I just didn’t want to go home, I guess.”
…No one could tell.
How impressive.
“Do you were holding back again? Earlier today.”
“No. Don’t worry.”
Maki always thought his words over before he spoke. He never let a half formed sentence escaped. Even now. He wasn’t looking at Touma. He stared out the window, to outside.
There was a smile again on Maki’s lips, but it wasn't the same as before.
It was the genius’ smile, not the child’s. It was the adult under the veil.
“It just happened. Today, mom will come back late. I forgot about soft tennis, and it was like before. But I’m fine now.”
The barrier, Itsuki knew, was the feeling of rejection. When one’s life was not accepted by those who had enabled it.
It was a terrible feeling, to learn you were not wanted, to the point that you would physically suffer from it.
“Yeah, you’re fine now,” Touma agreed. “Cause I’m here, idiot. Talk to me, okay? And if anything happens…”
“Yeah, I get it,” Maki huffed.
Itsuki did not know what it was, that had made Maki an adult behind the barrier. But perhaps he had been wrong about his genius.
Maki WAS a genius. But it was effort that had gotten him to where he was now. Not talent. Effort.
Compensation.
Itsuki knew the feeling. Even if he did not know what Maki’s barrier was made of.
He let go of the lizard.
“Say, Touma.”
“What is it?”
They were quiet.
“Could I rest on your shoulder for a bit?”
This was what it looked like when kids tried to become adults too fast.
Itsuki sighed. Idiots.
If Itsuki had know it was that kind of barrier, he would have done differently.
Opening up, he said a month earlier. But opening up meant nothing against that kind of barrier. He would know.
It was personal.
“Come over here,” Touma said to Maki.
Itsuki did not look. He supposed he would have to continue wondering.
Steps echoed softly. Rintarou was there. Itsuki earned himself a disappointed look for his eavesdropping. Itsuki rolled his eyes, but as Rintarou came over, he signalled him to shut up and hide.
“So?” his partner whispered.
“So what?” he deadpanned on the same tone. “This is none of my business.”
“But you’re still here.”
Itsuki glanced back at their two leaders. One rested his forehead against the other shoulder, eyes shadowed, and they merely breathed in the respite.
“They’re our teammates,” or was Rintarou who said it, as if speaking up Itsuki’s mind.
Itsuki stood up and away from the quiet scene, his friend quickly following after him.
“They are. That’s why they’ll come around eventually.”
That’s right, he thought, as both of them gave Maki and Touma some privacy. Just like Itsuki had waited and watched, until the day he had stepped into the changing room and removed his shirt without a sound. One day, Maki would stop waiting and watching, and he would come to them without the placid smile, without the poker face and the mask. And he would be both the genius and the kid, both the broken and the mature.
When it would happen, Itsuki would just smile, much like Maki had done for him.
“Let’s start practice without them.”
They will catch up.
Rintarou smiled softly.
“Yes. Let’s do that.”
“Maki.”
“...”
“You’re warm. You have a fever.”
“...Yes?”
“You actually caught a cold.”
To the accusation, a laugh.
“The team needed the break.”
“Maki! I’m telling your mom.”
“Anything but that.”