Chapter Text
˖ ࣪ ⊹ 鍵浦 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
When did Kagiura Akira learn what love felt like?
Not the type of love for a friend where you’re all buddy-buddy, always lending things and expecting nothing in return, but...
Romantic love.
The type of love that grapples onto your very being, claws digging into your skin until the stabbing pain numbs into an unsettling warmth. A feeling that takes residence in your heart, flooding your chest with a sense of hospitality that manages to make itself feel welcome with the most haunting discomfort ever.
He certainly didn’t learn of love in middle school, when he had that 3-ish month relationship (if you could even call it one). Everything was awkward and forced. He could only thank the stars that things weren't awkward between him and her after he broke up.
No, the extent of his albeit very limited knowledge of love was recent. As recent as his first year in a dorm...
Kagiura’s roommate, Hirano Taiga, was mysterious. At a first glance, he could be described as a delinquent of sorts. Bleached hair, piercings, and a questionable sense of fashion. But, after their awkward first meeting, things eventually turned out better than he expected!
From what he had experienced first-hand, Hirano felt some sort of care towards him, going as far as waking him up every morning. Kagiura felt pangs of guilt at times, knowing he was always forcing his dear roommate to wake up an entire hour earlier than most students should.
“It’s no issue.” He’d always say in response, in a voice that made Kagiura think that he had torn off pieces of his heart to litter his love between the syllables. “I’m always waking up this early anyway.”
Hirano was also extremely busy. Besides his job with the Disciplinary Committee, he would disappear from the dorms almost every evening with a suitcase in arms. Since Kagiura always had commitments of his own with how demanding basketball could be, he’d come back around the same time as him, catching the exhaustion on his face as he wheeled his suitcase through the halls, hair sticking to his sweat-glistened forehead while he walked with significantly less energy than he had throughout the day. Every time Kagiura would remember to ask for his whereabouts, he’d be whisked away with Hirano complaining that he needs to rest up after such a demanding day at school.
The concern that he showed for him was endearing. It made his heart burst into flames that charred his ribs and seared his lungs, a feeling that was getting harder to push down by the day.
“I don’t know where he’s going, I don’t know why, and I for sure have no idea what he carries in that weird suitcase!” Kagiura wailed, his feeble attempt to reel in his energy simply failing as he slumped in his chair. His hands reached up to squeeze his face, as if it would push his brain cells close enough to fire off a synapse that would bring him to some sort of epiphany.
Niibashi, who had only just gotten to his seat, shot him the world’s nastiest glare. “Are you whining about him again? I swear, I barely even talk to the guy and I know more about him than anyone in this school...” He shuddered with each word, setting his bag down and taking a seat.
Kagiura groaned, long and miserable. At a glance, you’d think the guy was dying or something. “I can’t help it! He’s just— I—” He paused, searching for the remnants of a sentence that was long gone, replaced with one thought after another in quick succession. Defeated, he sighed, resting his head on the desk. “I can’t help but be so... Curious... Where is he going every day that he needs to keep so secret?? It’s not like he’s... I dunno, breaking the rules?”
“With those looks?” A laugh escaped from beside him, eliciting the most intense glare he’d given Niibashi this week.
“—! Jeez, dude, you need to calm down. If you’re this pressed about what your oh-so-precious Hirano-san!! is doing, then just— Just ask him. It’s not that hard.” He concluded, deadpanning as he delivered his words like a swift punch in the gut. At least, that's what it felt like to Kagiura, who was now softening his glare into a more pathetic gaze into the distance, a look akin to a sopping wet puppy in the rain.
“I would ask... But every time I find an opportunity to ask, he just dodges it! And anyways, that falls in the realm of overstepping boundaries or whatever. I never want to make Hirano-san uncomfortable, y’know...” With his eyebrows furrowed, Kagiura now looked pitiful than ever. If Niibashi didn’t know better, he’d start consoling him like he was a lost child.
“And? Maybe you need to start snooping around or something. Go looking through his stuff for clues.”
Kagiura lifted his head, ready to make a retort at the horrifying crime-adjacent proposal that Niibashi had nefariously cooked up. However, before he opened his mouth, the sound of papers dropping onto a desk from the front rang through as the teacher cleared his throat. With no option to refute the ethics of his suggestion, Kagiura settled for another ill-mannered glare, which was more childish if anything, and focused the rest of his energy on staying awake in class.
This mystery of his roommate and his activities would have to wait.
˖ ࣪ ⊹ 平野 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
When he was 7, his mom enrolled him in ice skating lessons for the sake of giving the otherwise reserved and bookish Hirano Taiga a chance to play around. It started with small things, like moving up a level quicker than others or learning a jump or spin easier than most. It started as a fun little hobby, and nothing more. He didn’t intend on making a career out of this sport. He wanted to be a pilot for a while before he even started skating anyway, so this was just a small thing to set him apart from other kids.
Well, it was.
But now, Hirano is in his second year of high school, and while he was no olympic skater, he was still competing at a high level and even dedicating his after school time to the sport. Even though he had his Disciplinary Committee meetings sprinkled throughout the week, he’d still end up rushing back to the dorm from school to change and run off to the train station for his almost daily journey to the nearby sports complex. With a rink, jogging track, and gym, it was basically a second home to him.
He liked coming to the rink whenever he needed a break from school, the Disciplinary Committee, from... Well, anything, really. As much as it stressed him out at times, he found it calming to be alone on the rink, pushing against the smooth ice as he kept his worries about upcoming tests or assignments in the backseat of his mind. However, he wasn’t too worried about schoolwork at the moment. He had even caught up and studied in the morning.
Today, Hirano was bothered by his roommate.
It wasn’t in the way anyone would normally expect. Kagiura wasn’t annoying by any means, and he most definitely wasn’t a burden. He just found the increasingly specific questions about his life to be centering on one subject. His extremely secretive after-school activities. They weren’t direct, but instead, they would dance around the idea. It was like he knew and was waiting for Hirano to crack.
He didn’t have any particular issue with telling people, but he just felt that if people knew he was into some niche sport, he’d get barraged with overflowing support for something that he wouldn’t be sticking to in the long run. If people knew he was figure skating, they’d probably think he was aiming for nationals at minimum. Everyone just knew Hirano as the guy who was dedicated to his studies, not as an athletic sporty guy who needed sudden changes to his social standing at school.
Not many people actually knew he skated. Outside of the Disciplinary Committee— who knew since he’d often rush out of meetings as soon as possible— there was only Sasaki and Ogasawara, who’d both managed to needle the truth out of him after a very awkward conversation about hobbies. Luckily, the two hadn’t made a big deal about it to this day, but Hirano knew very well that there were other people he knew who most definitely would, with the most notable example being with a kouhai in the Disciplinary Committee. He heard him mumble some nonsense about Hirano being a “delicate delinquent uke” after an exchange, and he decided that this was a topic that was best reserved for himself and anyone who was on a need-to-know basis.
It was fair that he hadn’t told Kagiura. He knew how prone the boy was to worrying and overthinking, with him constantly asking if Hirano is absolutely sure that it’s not bothering him to wake him up every morning, or whether Hirano was okay to part with his perfect tests. If he knew that he was doing some time-intensive sport, he’d probably freak out over Hirano doing so many things for him. It wasn’t like he was being forced to do these things anyways. He was just doing what felt right. He’d probably do this for any kouhai!
Well, he wouldn’t be lying if he said that he had a soft spot for Kagiura. He lived with him, after all! Could you blame him for being a little more lenient with him, after seeing how he works so hard for the things he’s passionate about? Hirano found it inspiring.
He felt his train of thought slowly dissipate into his surroundings with the rest of the cold air around him, focusing more on the feeling of being back on the ice as a method to ground himself. He felt the ice crackle as he bent his knees, the sound of blades carving into ice as he moved from side to side in order to generate speed. He soon switched to simple, yet quick pushes, getting warmed up so he could shrug off his loose sweatshirt and practice more challenging things without his aerodynamics getting messed up in the process. While he preferred wearing loose clothing, he found that for skating he had to make simple sacrifices for the sake of his performance. He wasn’t in the mood to jump, especially when he was still recovering from his internal conflicts of interest, so he decided that he could at least do a few spins while continuing to decompress.
Soon, Hirano’s mind had been emptied of its previous worries, instead being occupied with the joy and serenity of skating on a rink all on his own, with the long-gone woes of yesterday following behind him.
˖ ࣪ ⊹ 鍵浦 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Kagiura had been sitting at his desk in the dorm room when Hirano came back, looking more disheveled than he had ever been.
His cheeks and nose were red, as if he’d been nipped by the cold— which was odd considering that it was the end of May— and he was panting slightly while he put his stuff to the side. Hirano was out of breath, exhausted, and Kagiura couldn’t stop his own breath from hitching in his throat at the sight, with his cheeks blanketed in their own rosy tint.
Hirano said a quick hello while putting his suitcase neatly under his desk, at which Kagiura quickly responded with a greeting whilst purging his mind from having such borderline indecent thoughts about his own roommate in this state. He discreetly pinched himself in the arm as Hirano ran off to take a shower before lights out, limiting his brain from using more power than it already did on the part of his mind dedicated purely to everything ‘Hirano-san’.
With the door shut, Kagiura let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. His shoulders slumped as he stared at the ceiling, spinning his desk chair as he got his brain working again. Oddly enough, the first thing that came to mind was his conversation earlier with Niibashi.
“Maybe you need to start snooping around or something. Go looking through his stuff for clues.”
His eyes wandered towards the suitcase, right across from his own desk. If he wanted to peek in it, he’d have get up, walk, and kneel under a desk, which was already a task with how sleepy he was at the moment, but it would only be a couple steps away, and the suitcase has no fancy locks on it, so it shouldn't be—
No! Kagiura immediately interrupted his train of thought, squeezing his eyes shut and looking away to get the suitcase and any unwanted thoughts relating to it out of his mind. He couldn’t just start looking through his things, that was a clear violation of boundaries and privacy!
But...
His eyes opened slowly, peeking at the suitcase again, almost as if it would disappear if he didn’t keep his eyes on it.
It wouldn’t hurt to peek a little, right? After all, it was Niibashi who planted this idea in his mind, and everyone knows that guy has a good head on his shoulders.
Before he knew it, Kagiura was already scrambling towards it, stumbling as he pushed Hirano’s chair away and knelt down in front of the suitcase to lay it down. His hand searched for the zipper, pausing his movements above it to give a moment of consideration. Hirano-san would be pretty mad if he checked inside, but his own curiosity was clouding his judgement. He might as well open now and answer questions later.
With a final breath of dignity escaping him, he carefully opened the suitcase, the zipper’s screech cutting through the tense air of the room like a knife.
Kagiura didn’t know what he was expecting. A part of him was hoping it would actually be worth the effort of sneaking around, but instead, he found the reveal to be incredibly mundane.
Inside the suitcase was a pair of black ice skates and a neatly folded fleece zip-up, among many other plain things.
Kagiura had many questions.
Was Hirano an athlete like himself? He never saw him in any school club sporting events, so maybe he did something outside of school, but... Ice skating?
His small ounce of knowledge on the sport was mostly hockey, since he’d seen some news about it in one of his sports magazines, but Hirano’s skates seemed different from the ones he’d seen. In fact, they were almost dainty compared to hockey skates. Maybe they were figure skates?
Kagiura didn’t know much about ice skating, let alone figure skating, but from what he’d seen during a past craze on social media, it was a graceful sport. He recalled seeing short videos of a skater moving across the ice with such speed and elegance, doing jumps and turns beyond his already limited vocabulary.
The thought of Hirano, the same guy who everyone claimed to be one of the scariest senpais in the entire school, who everyone claimed had anger issues, and was an absolute stickler for rules, wearing such dainty shoes and moving gracefully on ice? Well, Kagiura didn’t think of Hirano as a scary person, and he absolutely did not have anger issues with how laid-back he was around him. This thought wasn’t too odd. If anything, he found it endearing. It brought up fun questions, like whether he was going to be in the Olympics, and more serious ones, such as why he hid it from him.
In fact, that was his biggest question.
Why did he hide this?
Kagiura rested his head on the folded fleece coat in the bag with a huff as he furrowed his eyebrows. He was finding it hard to think of any logical reasoning, and anything otherwise was too outlandish to fit Hirano. Was he ashamed of it? Was it a brand new hobby that he desired to keep secret, lest it come out to anyone at school? He was seriously wracking his brain, harder than he had for any test in his life. His mind had wandered further into curiosity, and it was almost sickening.
Did Hirano tell other people? Was Kagiura the only person who didn’t know? Maybe he made it seem like he was some sort of basketball elitist who hated every other sport with an unfettered amount of rage that would break any scale if measured? Maybe he accidentally said something wrong one day, making it seem like it was unwelcome for Hirano to be anything more than a studious roommate in his eyes? Maybe—
“Kagi-kun?”
His heart leapt into his throat as he jolted up to see Hirano, with his hair dripping water onto the bunched up towel around his neck and his eyes widening with what could only described as sheer horror. The worst part? Kagiura was frozen, his own expression almost mirroring the other’s as he sat there, hands still on the edges of the suitcase, laying out his crime for the Hirano to see in plain view.
Shoot.
˖ ࣪ ⊹ 平野 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Hirano walked into his room after a rather relaxing shower, only to be met with a sight akin to a crime scene. His face was contorting into a look that he himself couldn’t control, eyes widening with every detail he took in. Kagiura, almost elbow-deep in the suitcase right in front of his desk, hands gripping the sides of it like they were a lifeline, and a look on his face that was basically screaming I didn’t mean for you to see this!!! in 15 languages at once.
“Wh— What are you—” He shut the door behind him and just stood there. His feet wouldn’t move, because quite frankly, he wanted to just close his eyes and pray that this was a stupidly vivid dream.
Kagiura scrambled to his feet, nearly ramming his head into the underside of the desk on the way up. “—!! H—Hirano-san! It’s— It’s not what you think! I was just—”
Hirano interrupted him immediately, for the sake of putting a stop to his panic. “It’s— It’s fine. It’s fine, Kagi-kun.” He lied. He definitely wasn’t happy to see his roomie snooping through his stuff, but he wanted to chew him out for that after de-escalating the situation. He tried his best to go back to the look he had before entering the room, furrowing his brows and gently pinching the bridge of his nose in order to shock his face back to his default expression. While the present situation was wholly unideal, it surely couldn’t get worse.
“... Hirano-san!”
He looked up, only to see Kagiura shifting his weight from one foot to another, hands clasping one another with such an infectious level of anxiety that Hirano could swear that his own hair was already standing on its ends.
“I... Y’know... I don’t have anything against other sports!”
What?
What kind of twisted misunderstanding was this? What even prompted Kagiura to make such a statement? He silently prayed that this was it, but with the way the other nervously cleared his throat, he knew that his pleas would go unanswered.
Kagiura continued, eyes darting frantically, looking everywhere but at Hirano.
“I mean— I love basketball, sure, but it’s not like I hate other sports! I read other sports mags too! And I have friends who do less intensive things! And— And I also think— Guys can do delicate and dainty things too!!”
Hirano was utterly baffled. He had a feeling that this would go on for hours if he didn’t intervene. He started walking towards him, almost glowering at him with dark eyes.
This only made Kagiura’s pattern of speech grow frantic, rushed.
“—!! I have friends who do delicate things! Niibashi— You know Niibashi, right? Pink hair, short, whatever! He does art! That’s a pretty delicate thing for a guy, and I’m completely okay with it! I don’t care about those things. In fact— I think it makes people cooler!! And—”
“Just shut up!”
All of a sudden, Hirano had both of his hands flush against Kagiura’s face, muffling the few words he had on the tip of his tongue before giving Hirano a pouty stare. However, he had no intention in letting another word out of him until he cleared the air.
“Listen. I have NO idea what the hell you’re talkin’ about. All this talk about liking different sports and— and delicate men?? Is this because of the suitcase? Did something set you off??”
He chose not to mention anything further on the topic of Kagiura looking through his suitcase like he’d lost his life savings in there, but he was planning on revisiting the topic later.
He watched Kagiura’s eyes glance around the room, as if he was piecing together an excuse. Hirano only watched, an impatient stare pairing uncomfortably well with his scowl. His hands were still over the other’s mouth, and while he wanted to remove them as soon as possible, he felt a pit in his stomach that only got deeper as he thought harder about what Kagiura would say next. A part of him just wanted to put duct tape over his mouth and call it a night.
Amidst his thoughts, he noticed that Kagiura had finally met his own gaze. In that moment, the light spilling out from between the curtains hit his eyes just right, illuminating them and highlighting a beautiful green undertone, boring into his own with an expectancy that made Hirano snap out of the mesmerizing trance that Kagiura’s pleading doe eyes put him in.
Slowly, carefully, he lifted both hands, softly wiping them on the towel around his neck. He was taking as much time as possible to be gentle, because if he made even one sudden movement, he might set off the ticking time bomb that was Kagiura Akira’s endless rambling.
Hirano was watching the gears turn in his head, the words dancing behind his eyes and the vowels climbing up his throat as he opened his mouth to speak, only to pull back and think harder about what to say. It took a few tries, but at last, Kagiura finally spoke.
“...The— Uh. The skates.”
“Uh huh. The ones in the suitcase that you looked through?”
The way he responded came with a sort of bite in it, as if he was a little pissed off (which he was, but he didn’t want the other to know that), which only made Kagiura seem more anxious. It was almost as if he shrunk, his shoulders slumping while his eyes fell, gazing towards the empty space in front of them both.
Hirano felt a pang of guilt resonating in his chest as he rushed to do damage control.
“— I mean— Uh— I’m not happy that you were looking through my things, but if you’re going to say something, I want you to say it in a way that isn’t... Cryptic. I can’t read your mind, man. You’ve gotta help me out.”
He watched Kagiura take what felt like hours just to respond with a simple and astute “Yeah.”
He couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of this man. He was doing anything but “helping him out”. He furrowed his brows, trying to dissect and decipher his one-worded reply. From the weird and strangled sound that he heard coming from Kagiura, he had a feeling that he was going to say more.
“I— I mean. I’ll... I’ll think of a way to phrase my questions... Give me a second...”
He watched Kagiura shift his weight between his feet again, trying to figure out the best questions to ask. However, every time he looked like he’d gotten to a conclusion and formulated a response, he’d go back to thinking.
Seriously, what did this guy want??
A bit of his mind was already dead-set on chewing him out for being so infuriatingly cryptic and mysterious at a time when it was absolutely NOT needed. The more rational side of him wanted to sort things out peacefully, and it was clear that he had the equivalence of a civil war going on in his mind before making a sudden realization.
Hirano, whose hair was damp and legs were miles past exhausted, just wanted to go to sleep. He wanted that more than anything right now. Judging from the hazy look in Kagiura’s eyes as he looked away from him again, he had a feeling that the other was also tired.
As the older and therefore more responsible one in the room, he decided to take action.
“...I’m going to bed.”
And by action, he meant quickly rubbing at his head with the towel to dry his hair and slipping under the covers before their conversation could continue.
As his head hit the pillow, his ear pressing against the soft cushion as he turned away from Kagiura, he could hear a mumble coming from the opposite side of the room. However, Hirano was way too tired to answer or even ask if he could say it again for him to hear. Instead, he laid there, listening to the sound of his roommate quickly changing into his nightsuit and getting in bed, followed by an eerily calming silence.
Was he still kind of pissed? Yeah, but Hirano had decided that this was best to be dealt with tomorrow.
˖ ࣪ ⊹ 鍵浦 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
It was a known fact that Kagiura was more than dedicated to his sport. He lived and breathed basketball. Every step he took in life led him towards it. So when his friend suggested that they check out a newly opened basketball court in an indoor sports complex, he sure as hell wasn’t gonna say no!
Was he still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal yesterday? Yeah, but any time he tried to think about a way to resume the conversation, something in his stomach would sink and he’d feel a sense of impending doom, as if reopening the conversation would lead to something way worse than what was usually considered rational. His alternate solution? Shooting some hoops! Nothing got his mind off of things like basketball did.
After his classes ended, he packed up his bag and beelined straight for class 2-B, adamant on finding his grey-haired friend.
“Yo, Shirahama!” He called, poking his head in the class to see the other packing his bag at a leisurely pace, his attention split between shoving his books neatly and a game on his phone. He watched his eyes flicker up for a second, go back to his phone, and then immediately start glaring at Kagiura with an expression torn between shock and confusion.
“Holy— How did’ya get here so fast??” Shirahama shoved his phone in his pants pocket and crammed the remaining textbooks into his bag before zipping it up and slinging it on his shoulder. “Class ended... 4 minutes ago? And don’t you needa head to your dorm to grab your stuff first?”
Kagiura eagerly shook his head. “Nope! I got all my stuff in here.” He confidently patted his bag, which was overstuffed and one pencil away from ripping at the seams. He really was willing to do anything to avoid seeing Hirano until after he had the opportunity to relax. If it meant shoving his workout clothes with his mountains of schoolwork, then so be it. Of course, the conspicuously stuffed bag raised some suspicion, with Shirahama’s eyes narrowing warily at the bag before shrugging it off.
The two took off shortly after, their conversations mainly circling around upcoming tournaments and the brisk autumn weather upon them as they walked towards the train station. Shirahama had offered to buy Kagiura a drink, yet he had declined, saying that he had plenty of water left in his bottle. They took a pit stop at a vending machine before embarking on their short 10-minute train ride.
Before long, they had descended from the train and Kagiura was now following his friend like a lost puppy. This was the first time he’d been in this area and while he found the surroundings interesting to take in, he also felt a sense of unease that if he got lost, he wouldn’t make it back in time for the dorm curfew.
“Soo— What is this oh-so-mysterious place you’re taking me to?” Kagiura inquired, adjusting the speed of his unnaturally long strides— the product of him being “freakishly tall”, according to Hirano— in order to avoid overtaking Shirahama completely.
Shirahama was looking around, glancing at the passing signs. Was he equally clueless of their whereabouts? “It’s this huge sports complex,” He took out his phone, starting to type furiously, “They’ve got a running track, gym, and a couple of other things. See?” He flashed the screen in Kagiura’s direction, who leaned down to get a better glimpse.
He started flicking his finger through the images. “Oh! This place has a whole lotta stuff! That’s neat!” He remarked. There really was everything that Shirahama said there’d be, and more! A gym, running track, tennis court, soccer field—
“Okay, okay, quit tapping at my phone! You’re gonna click something random on accident!” He chided, immediately pulling his phone away and shoving it deep into his pockets. Kagiura stifled a laugh, straightening his posture. “Uh huh. Scared that I’m gonna open up your LINE to see all 20 of your ghosted DMs?”
At this, Shirahama shot him an almost murderous glare that made Kagiura crack up incessantly. “Pff— Haha! I’m joking, man! No need to get so mad!”
“Yeah, sure. All that talk for a guy who has no girlfriend.” He remarked. However, he was quick to take it back. “Shit— Wait— I take that back. Nevermind. You could probably get a girlfriend in a heartbeat.” His glare immediately softened as he went back to looking around. The statement left a bitter taste in Kagiura’s mouth. It was unfortunate that Kagiura was so popular with the ladies, especially considering that he had absolutely no interest in them whatsoever. In fact, he really only had eyes for Hirano. Even if his feelings were unrequited, it still felt a little unsettling to imagine himself liking anyone other than Hirano.
Seeing that Shirahama had now stopped walking, Kagiura halted beside him and gazed up to see a gargantuan building.
“Holy— Is this the place?”
Shirahama was unphased, as if this was expected of such a place with a multitude of uses. “Yep. Let’s head in.”
Kagiura immediately followed the other into the building, his hand clutching onto his bag as he looked around in awe.
“This place is freaking huge!”
At this point, Shirahama turned a blind eye to Kagiura’s various observations as they made their way to the basketball courts. He’d point out everything he’d see, saying stuff like “Check out that snack bar!” or “Look at the size of that rink!”
He paused his mindless chatter at the latter observation. All of a sudden, he was reminded of the bitter conversation from last night, and the hundreds of questions that he failed to ask out of sheer concern that he was pushing against some unspoken boundaries. The sheer thought of it brought the uneasy sensation of his ribs pressing on his heart, an uncomfortable dull pressure that carried the weight of a thousand sins on his chest.
He found himself gazing helplessly at the rink as they walked past it. It was rather sparse, with maybe ten people doing some of the most impressive jumps he’d seen in his life. While he found it interesting to watch, he was more intrigued by the sudden sighting of a familiar blonde friend. Hirano, to be specific. He was there, gliding on the ice in a fleece that fit too well on him, which was a rare sight considering his usual loose choice of clothes with the most atrocious designs known to mankind. Kagiura was mesmerized by the way he pushed against the ice effortlessly, his hair moving against the rush of wind that came with how fast he seemed to be moving.
“Dude, let’s go.” Shirahama nudged him with his elbow, hitting him right in between his ribs. This warranted a very nasty glare from Kagiura, who was now moving his bag to the side closest to Shirahama in order to avoid another unnecessary attack. He started moving his feet again (When did he stop moving? Only god knows!) and reluctantly dragged his focus away from Hirano, as if he was ripping a bandaid off at an agonizingly slow pace.
He found there to be a sick irony in this situation. Kagiura, who came to play basketball and get his mind off of stuff, spotted the exact source of the aforementioned “stuff” which had plagued his thinking all day. He found it endearing, in a way, that he had bumped into Hirano in a place other than the dorm or school. It was like the world was forcing Kagiura to face the issue head on. “Talk to him!!!” was probably the general message that the universe decided to impart on him today. Was he going to listen? Maybe, but he didn’t want to make a decision until after he got his daily dose of basketball in.
After an hour of passing a basketball between each other and shooting hoops, it was safe to say that Kagiura was definitely too tired to think about anything besides how much he wanted a snack. He murmured a quick “I’ll be back” as he wiped his face with a towel and grabbed his wallet before making an escape through the doors of the court’s entrance. He didn’t hear any disagreement from behind the doors as he left, so he assumed that Shirahama was going to use this break time to sit rather than eat.
Kagiura didn’t fully realize the sheer size of this complex, the sight of elevators and stairs hitting him with the realization that this place was huge, and he was bound to get lost if he wasn’t careful. Following the posted signage that he saw above some doors, he managed to make his way to the snack bar and the line that followed it. There weren’t lots of people, but it was clear that he’d have to wait a few minutes before getting to order. He stepped in line with an exhausted expression, unbothered by the premise of having to wait for a snack that would probably be overpriced.
He took in his surroundings, the live and bustling scenery of a sports complex filled with wide ranges of ages. Among the various pleasantries that the building offered, Kagiura found himself eyeing the rink that he had seen Hirano skating at earlier. To his dismay, it was not filled with the same 10-or-so people that had been skating there earlier. Instead, there were crowds of people skating around in messy ovals along the perimeter of the ice. Some people seemed to be skating on their own, some were skating with a kid, and some were lovey-dovey couples that were hanging onto each other for dear life, instilling a small gurgle of jealousy in Kagiura’s gut. He immediately looked away, focusing on the appetizing (and overpriced) menu of the snack bar rather than the sickening picture of the happy couples skating away.
Kagiura didn’t know how to skate, but he wondered if he could convince Hirano to teach him. Of course, this would mean that he’d first have to apologize to Hirano and then he could bring up the idea. He liked spending time with him, and sometimes, just seeing him in the dorm didn’t feel like enough. Kagiura wanted Hirano all to himself, and while he knew that wasn’t possible in the reality that he lived in, he could still try to spend as much time with Hirano as possible. As he got lost in his thoughts, the sound around him melted away while his eyes remained glued on the menu above for the sake of staring off somewhere that didn’t look too suspicious.
“— Kagi-kun?”
All of a sudden, Kagiura’s head turned to the side to see none other than Hirano, standing in line behind him in the same snugly fit fleece jacket from before and a slightly energized look in his eyes. “You seem pretty focused on that menu over there.” He muttered, glancing at the menu with a soft tone in his voice. Kagiura felt quite awkward, standing there while Hirano made innocent conversations with him as if yesterday didn’t happen.
“Oh! Uh, yeah... I’m trying to figure out if I want the potato fries or a bag of chips.” He responded, taking a glance in his wallet to gauge how much money he could spend before shoving it in his pocket. He had enough for either one of the two, so he really just had to pick quickly and head back to the basketball court.
“You here for some basketball stuff?”
Kagiura looks back at Hirano, who was giving him a look torn between concern and care. He gulped, nodding. “Yeah. A friend on the basketball team said some stuff about a new basketball court here, so I’m checking it out with him.” Kagiura tried his hardest to act normal, but with the way he felt his eyes avert the other’s piercing gaze, he felt that it was near impossible to do so. “A—And you, Hirano-san? What are you doing here?”
Hirano clearly wasn’t expecting this question, clearing his throat as he and Kagiura moved up in the line. “Ah. I’m here for a skating session. I’ve got another in an hour or so, so I’m planning to do some schoolwork before warming up again.”
Kagiura had to stifle a small giggle. To think that Hirano was still doing his schoolwork adamantly outside of school was endearing. It brought a small flush to his cheeks as the edges of his mouth curled upwards, an almost mischievous look on his face.
“Don’t give me that look!” Hirano gently hit his shoulder, a scowl on his face.
“Sorry, sorry!” Kagiura started laughing, his smile growing. “I just find it really funny that you’re being a diligent student outside of the dorms, that’s all!”
Hirano looked even grumpier at this comment. “Of course I’m being diligent. Unlike someone.” He shot back, his words immediately hitting Kagiura in the heart, who fired back with a huge pout.
“Hey! I’m planning to study today! After I get back to the dorms!” He moved forward in the line again, taking note that it was his turn soon.
Hirano scoffed. “Uh-huh. Sure, Kagi-kun. I’m sure you’ll study. That is, if you don’t fall asleep the moment you get back.” His own mouth was rearranging itself into a smug grin as he patted his back reassuringly. At this, Kagiura’s pout grew as the line moved up once more. He fished his wallet out of his pocket quickly and put on his best expression that starkly contrasted his previous one. He settled for some potato chips and immediately lit up at the mere feeling of some food in his hands.
As the two stepped out of the line, Kagiura ripped open the bag of chips and started eating two chips at a time. “Jeez, you must be really hungry,” Hirano remarked, “Are you going to have space for dinner?”
Kagiura responded with a nod, scarfing down the rest of the chips before speaking. “Have I ever said no to food?” He wiped his hand on the side of his shorts before balling up the now empty chip bag.
Hirano chuckled, but it sounded dry and stiff compared to earlier.
“Listen, Kagi—” He sounded like he was going to say something uncomfortable. Something that would leave a bitter taste in both of their throats, prompting an uneasy sensation to come alive in Kagiura’s chest. He felt like he should do something to stop this.
“— Oh! Would’ya look at the time! I’ve gotta start heading back to the dorm soon, Hirano-san! Wouldn’t wanna miss the dorm curfew and get on Hanzawa-san’s bad side, right? Let’s continue this talk back at the dorms!”
Kagiura hurriedly gave a wave to Hirano before turning around, immediately speedwalking back towards the courts without looking back to see if Hirano had said anything in response. He felt guilty for taking the coward’s way out of things, and he especially felt guilty for ditching Hirano so quickly, but he wanted to escape that uncomfortable situation as fast as possible.
One step after another, he made his way back to the courts to see Shirahama sitting outside of the doors with Kagiura’s bag in one hand and his own slung over his shoulder. After giving a quick apology for taking so long, the two left the sports complex shortly after in a journey that was lackluster in conversation overall, turning the walk to the station and the ride in the train into a very awkward trip filled with large gaps of silence.
Kagiura felt nothing but doom as Shirahama got off at his own stop, leaving him on his own for another 3 stops with only his thoughts to accompany him. He sat in the mostly empty train as he felt the doom settle in. Trying to avoid thinking about last night inadvertently made him avoid processing the entire situation. Hirano was definitely mad at him, right? I mean, who wouldn’t be mad at someone for prying into their personal belongings? Hirano was a very independent person after all, so it was guaranteed that he’d be more than a little pissed at Kagiura.
As the despair dug deeper into his gut to form a little pit, Kagiura could only sit there, taking it in like it was all that was surrounding him as the loudspeaker on the train faded into the distance.
It had been a while since Kagiura got back. He already freshened up, ate dinner, and was now laying in bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling. As much as he’d loved the thought of falling asleep, he felt irritated and restless whenever he closed his eyes. To compromise, he decided to rawdog it through the night— no phone, no headphones, nothing. Just him, in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
After a good 10 minutes of miserable silence, the door swung open and clicked shut, lights turning on and disrupting his peace.
“Kagi-kun.” He heard from the side of his bed.
“We need to talk.”