[ONESHOT] DOWNTREND
Why do I love writing angst sooooooooooooooooooo muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch?
Fandom: Tumbling
Characters: Mizusawa → Kiyama
Rating: K
Genre: Angst
Summary: It's one thing to notice, but another to point it out.
Notes: darn formatting
Maybe he’ll get lucky.
Week of 28 April 2008:
||||\ ||
Mizusawa props his elbow on top of his desk, and rests his chin in his palm. It looks perfectly natural, he thinks, especially since it's during one of Sawamura-sensei's mindnumbing literature lectures. Half the class was spacing out, and that was what he was counting on.
If he pretends that he's sleepy, lets his head lull a little to the side, he can get a glimpse of what's behind him. And if he tilts his face a certain way, people can’t tell that his eyes aren’t closed. No, he can’t see what he wants just yet, so he lets it slip a bit more and--
He catches it!
--that one kid in the back corner of the class. He seems just as interested in the lesson as all the other students, his expression blank and tired... but what's really interesting is what he's doing under his desk. His hands are in his lap, one idly tugging at a green-and-white string of beads around his wrist.
It’s a stupid gesture, but it makes Mizusawa’s heart beat a little faster when he sees it.
He "sleeps" until the other boy seems to notice what he's doing, and places his hands on the top of his desk, looking like he's trying to pay attention to the lecture. Only then does Mizusawa feign waking up and open up his notebook. He turns to the back cover, where he’s started a table filled with tally marks. The only labels are the dates of the weeks each set of tallies are taken. If someone just happened to look over, they wouldn't know what they were looking at.
"Hey, Mizusawa. What's that?"
Like that.
He turns to see Yuuta Takenaka leaning over, eyeing the table in his notebook. "Uh..." Mizusawa trails off. He feels disoriented, like he really did just wake up -- which gives him an idea for an excuse. "I'm tracking how many times I doze off. Doctor says I might have a sleeping thing."
"I see." Yuuta nods slowly, before pointing to the man at the front of the classroom. "...I’m sure the excitement going on now isn’t helping." Yuuta smiles before turning back to the teacher, and Mizusawa is glad his friend isn’t giving into his habit of acting too concerned. He would hate to have to continue with the lie.
Though it's not completely a lie. He has been having some trouble sleeping lately, mostly because he can’t keep his mind off a certain someone.
Mizusawa doesn’t know much about the boy who'd suddenly started occupying all of his consciousness except that he's tall, quiet, and on rare occasions shows up to class with cuts and bruises adorning his face -- if he shows up to class at all.
So the fact that Mizusawa notices that little habit he has makes him feel like he's close to him. Like they're sharing a little secret between the two of them and only them and this connection will weather the passing of space and time. It's a testament to how much he thinks of the other boy, a scandalous obsession that the world won’t understand, a habit that sports a little danger and fills him with lot of shame.
But it's worth it. The slightest of smiles slips onto Mizusawa’s face as he carefully pens in a third notch under the heading for the week. He thinks it's so cute that a big tough guy like this kid named Kiyama has a nervous habit like that.
It would be about a year and a half before he learned that it wasn't.
Week of 12 October 2009:
||||\ ||||\ ||
But he just had to show up early that day.
He'd been hoping to get some studying done before morning practice. As luck would have it, he walked by the science lab the very second Tanimura-sensei was looking for some hapless student to help her clean up a mess involving a little broken glass and a lot of spilled liquids. Being the only guy around, he was quickly drafted to do the moving and shaking, which ended in him taking the mops and buckets to the roof so they could dry. He's a bit annoyed, but hides it as he complies with the teacher's request.
It’s only now, as he is coming to the final landing of that staircase does he see the sign -- "ENTRY PROHIBITED" -- and the chains blocking the door off that he remembers that he is indeed going to the roof. The bullies and delinquents hang out there. It is not a place for kids like him.
He swallows hard and and presses on.
It’s windy out today, so much so that the door at the top of the staircase wavers and sways. Mizusawa struggles to step over the chain and push the door open without dropping anything or having the door smack him in the face.
He sighs with relief when he makes it to the top unscathed, but his breath catches when he sees that someone else is there.
It's Kiyama.
He’s standing by the railing, slightly turned away, that bracelet pressed to his forehead. He's shaking, a lot. Enough to make Mizusawa wonder if -- no, no, this is Kiyama, one of those yankees half the school seems afraid of. He couldn't be crying.
But Mizusawa can’t stop looking, because he has to make sure. Looking a little to the side, he sees that there something about the way the Kiyama’s face is twisted... Mizusawa feels a tight, squeezing sensation in his chest that gets worse the longer he looks on, but he can’t tear his eyes way. It's that metaphorical train wreck, or maybe some intimate moment he shouldn't be looking at. As many times as he's seen the other boy mess with the bracelet, this is different.
This is wrong.
Mizusawa's limbs are frozen, and his face is burning up, his heart is beating so hard it makes his head hurt.
And then he drops the bucket.
The high-pitched, metallic clang of the bucket pierces though the low sound of the wind and lingers in the air. Before it stopped, the other pail falls to the ground, and soon everything in grasp is clattering at his feet. Mizusawa looks down at the mess surrounding him, before he looks up again and sees--
...Kiyama looking dead at him.
Mizusawa's gaze drops to his shoes again, and he feels his face burn a shade of red reserved for fire engines and crayon boxes. The air around him has suddenly become so hot, thick, heavy... Mizusawa finds he can’t move. But he needs to move.
Clumsily, he stoops down and reaches for a mop. Misses. Reaches again. Grabs it. Drops it. His hands are shaking so badly, every attempt he makes to pick up one of the cleaning things propels them a little further away from him.
He shuffles to the nearest thing, a mop, when he sees a hand that isn’t his pick it up. Mizusawa looks up to see Kiyama staring at him, looking at him with a face that is strangely composed compared to what he just saw, and even a little -- ugh, he can’t stand looking at it for more than a second, so he silently accepts the tool as his eyes fall to the ground again.
Another stick -- the other broom -- is shoved in his direction, and he takes it without thinking. From the safety of the ground, Mizusawa is able to watch as Kiyama stacks the pails beside him before he walks away, slipping through the fire exit door.
Only then can Mizusawa lift his head again, and it is only to look to mops in his grasp. His heart is still pounding so hard he can’t hear the wind or the when sound of Kiyama's footsteps stop echoing down the staircase. Even when his heart rate does slow, his mind starts up again.
...he looked mad. No, he always looks like that. No, actually he did look pretty mad. Maybe just annoyed. Definitely annoyed...
Mizusawa goes back and forth for while. Despite getting to campus so early that morning, he still manages to be late for practice.
“Mizusawa, you alright?”
Week of 19 October 2009:
--
When he can’t answer Yuuta’s question, Mizusawa sighs.
A certain Yankee Who Must Not Be Named has made no indication that he is upset about what happened the previous week, or that he even remembers that the boy who walked in on his moment was a member of his homeroom. Or he could have been shooting him nastiest leers from the back of the class. Mizusawa doesn’t know either way, as he can't bare to look in said yankee's direction since the occurrence.
He resorts to nodding furiously, not venturing to look towards Yuuta because Yuuta sits to his right and the yankee also sits to his right -- a further two columns over then three rows back, but still to his right -- and Mizusawa is quite sure that his head will explode the millisecond he looks in that general direction.
Mizusawa rather likes having a head, so he keeps his eyes glued to the blackboard in front of him.
And he figures that his answer does nothing to convince Yuuta, but the boy beside him quickly drops the subject and turns his attention back to his assignment. Only after that does Mizusawa turn his notebook to the back cover and his makeshift table of tallies, and another hopeless sigh escapes his lips.
Mizusawa's tally is empty for that week, and for a few weeks after that, too.
Things have gotten weird lately.
Week of 19 April 2010:
||||\ ||||\ ||||\ ||
Because he’s short on credits, the most rowdy delinquent in school is now a member of the gymnastics team. Mizusawa isn't sure if they're all friends, but all the yankees do seem to know each other, so the recruitment of the loud redhead is something of a two-for-one special. It's just that "two" works out to be every delinquent on campus. Only the showy blond and the dorky second-year stick around consistently, but Kiyama shows up enough.
That day, he shows up when the team is migrating from the locker rooms to the gymnasium, stopping Wataru and the other yankees for a brief word.
Yuuta bites his lip impatiently, Satoshi tilts his head curiously, and Kaneko turns away to polish his glasses on his shirt. Mizusawa messes with the hem of his tee, pretending not to listen. He only hears names he's unfamiliar with and ambiguous statements about something that could a surprise party or a gang fight.
Then there's a fist-bump, some parting words and the group starts moving again, the yankees jogging off toward the gym.
As he walks in the opposite direction, Kiyama doesn’t speak to or even look at the rest of the team as he saunters down the breezeway. Still, Mizusawa's heart jumps when he sees it. It’s brief; a momentary touch as he reaches over to adjust his grip on his schoolbag -- yes that counts.
Mizusawa wrings his hands. He can’t look at the bracelet anymore without thinking about that day on the rooftop, and wondering what Kiyama was thinking about. He's sad that Kiyama won’t talk to him -- and something makes him doubt that the other boy talks to anyone else about it.
But Mizusawa sees when Kiyama does that, and he knows that it means something. So he feels that maybe in some other world, on some other plane, the quiet yankee has told him all about the story behind the bracelet and how much it means to him. In some other world, on some other plane, Kiyama has opened his heart to him. In that special place he knows something so profound and beautiful that he can’t hope to comprehend the knowledge in this world of the ugly and mundane.
It’s a silly little thought, Mizusawa muses, but by then he notices that the rest of the team had dashed off and he runs off to catch them.
It’s that silly little thought that gets him through the rest of the day with a smile on his face.
This week would be tough.
Week of 10 May 2010:
|
Weeks, really. Circumstances involving the most rowdy of the delinquents in school and Yuuta's final push for the team to compete in a group meet had erupted into a variety of disasters since the school year began. The yankees’ getting into trouble seems to drag everyone down, but it’s this week that really stands out. When Satoshi collapses and admits to keeping secrets...
Kiyama pops up more and more, and then--
That can’t be true.
It came out of no where. And people, people have started saying things. His classmates, even the teachers... What they say makes so much sense in his head but not in his heart. He spends a few days confused and overwhelmed, but when he finally is able to pull himself together he finds himself lecturing those around him about perpetuating silly rumors.
Because they're rumors.
Just rumors.
When the team convenes to talk about it, Kaneko is doubtful while Satoshi is strangely emphatic. Yuuta gives him a few suspecting looks before he turns to the delinquent members of the team, offering words of support.
It takes a lot for Mizusawa to sit through that story Wataru tells them.
Mizusawa only catches it once that week -- a single time, when Kiyama is rushing down the halls to avoid everybody and everything. Seeing that, Mizusawa feels like a vice is clamped around his heart.
But as much as it hurts, knows that the other boy having an even harder week.
(...whywhywhywhy...)
Week of 17 May 2010:
--
--really Mizusawa is glad everything worked out he really really is but why did that happen why is he on the team now why is it not only class anymore but the locker room and practices and the bathhouse -- oh God oh God the bathhouse and--
--he's around all the time now--
--what if he notices--
--what if he sees--
--and Mizusawa's hands tremble whenever they come across his school bag because he can't risk dropping it again he knows his world will end if he does maybe the tally doesn't matter but there is no possible way he can explain away what he has in his student notebook and if if if--
(...whywhywhywhywhywhy...)
His habit had become his habit.
Week of 21 June 2010:
||
It’s a reflex now, so Mizusawa still finds himself shooting glances in his teammate's direction during moments like this, when everyone is hanging around the locker room after practice. Even past Kaneko and Nippori's play-fighting (or maybe real-fighting, he never can tell) and Kashiwagi-sensei darting about and passing around his latest garden concoction, he notices the second that Kiyama slips back on his prized bracelet. The boy's fingers trace along the beads before he turns back to his locker, a gesture that Mizusawa doesn’t miss.
Many things have happened in the previous weeks. Mizusawa doesn't know all the details about the bracelet, but what he's learned enough to fill in the gaps and spaces between what he had observed.
Kashiwagi rushes over and breaks Mizusawa's train of thought when he hands him a spoon piled with a gray, gel-like substance, then excitedly explains something. The boy doesn’t hear the words that come out of the teacher's mouth, but he nods as if he understands.
Before he knows what is going on, the teacher has disappeared again. Without the Kashiwagi blocking his view, Mizusawa is left staring at Kiyama, who has just finished putting his things away. And at the very same time, the other boy looks his way, too. Mizusawa's heart jumps and he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach at the same time.
Many things have happened in the previous weeks. Things aren't one-hundred percent okay between him and Kiyama yet, but Mizusawa can stand those gaps and spaces between the two of them.
Mizusawa opens his mouth to say something, but quickly stops. He really wants to tell Kiyama how glad he is that the other boy doesn’t seem to be messing with the bracelet anymore. He wants tell him how he's been watching the whole time and how he knows how much it means.
But he knows how strange that would be. Instead, he shoves the spoon with the gray jelly into his mouth. Kiyama eyes him suspiciously, and walks over.
"It's good," Mizusawa mumbles, as he works the sticky stuff around his mouth. It’s so bitter that he can only stand chewing it for a second before he swallows most of it down in a large, gooey glob.
"What?"
"This stuff, it's good."
Kiyama makes a face. He’s obviously tried the stuff already.
"You don’t think so? It really is!" Mizusawa tries for a smile, but at that exact moment the bitterness creeps up from the back of his throat. It ends up looking like he's retching.
But Kiyama smiles something closer to a smile back. "Sure... well, I’ll see you tomorrow."
Mizusawa knows he can’t open his mouth so soon without retching again, so he raises a hand and waves. The taller boy chuckles as he makes his way toward the steps and leaves the clubroom.
After watching Kiyama leave, Mizusawa finds himself looking back to the Nippori/Kaneko conflict, and laughing to himself. He's caught off guard when he feels someone tapping on his shoulder. He looks up to see that Yuuta is standing beside him... and that without noticing, Mizusawa had taken his notebook out of his bookbag and was flipping through its pages.
"This is random, but I was thinking about it the other day," starts the team captain. "Isn't that the same notebook from freshman year?"
Mizusawa wonders if that’s a rhetorical question; the page he stopped on clearly has a date from two years ago written on the top of the page. He nods.
Yuuta rubs his chin and frowns a bit before speaking again. "You're sleeping better recently, right?"
Mizusawa just stares at his friend for a moment, until he remembers -- that lie he told way back then. Instead of answering immediately, he turns to the inside cover and the smeared page of tallies. There really haven't been as many marks in the last several weeks. Not only are there fewer tallies, but he’s been troubled less about what they’ve meant... and only then does he realize that all kinds of things are better now. Much better.
That makes Mizusawa smile.
"Yeah, I am."
Fandom: Tumbling
Characters: Mizusawa → Kiyama
Rating: K
Genre: Angst
Summary: It's one thing to notice, but another to point it out.
Notes: darn formatting
Maybe he’ll get lucky.
Week of 28 April 2008:
||||\ ||
Mizusawa props his elbow on top of his desk, and rests his chin in his palm. It looks perfectly natural, he thinks, especially since it's during one of Sawamura-sensei's mindnumbing literature lectures. Half the class was spacing out, and that was what he was counting on.
If he pretends that he's sleepy, lets his head lull a little to the side, he can get a glimpse of what's behind him. And if he tilts his face a certain way, people can’t tell that his eyes aren’t closed. No, he can’t see what he wants just yet, so he lets it slip a bit more and--
He catches it!
--that one kid in the back corner of the class. He seems just as interested in the lesson as all the other students, his expression blank and tired... but what's really interesting is what he's doing under his desk. His hands are in his lap, one idly tugging at a green-and-white string of beads around his wrist.
It’s a stupid gesture, but it makes Mizusawa’s heart beat a little faster when he sees it.
He "sleeps" until the other boy seems to notice what he's doing, and places his hands on the top of his desk, looking like he's trying to pay attention to the lecture. Only then does Mizusawa feign waking up and open up his notebook. He turns to the back cover, where he’s started a table filled with tally marks. The only labels are the dates of the weeks each set of tallies are taken. If someone just happened to look over, they wouldn't know what they were looking at.
"Hey, Mizusawa. What's that?"
Like that.
He turns to see Yuuta Takenaka leaning over, eyeing the table in his notebook. "Uh..." Mizusawa trails off. He feels disoriented, like he really did just wake up -- which gives him an idea for an excuse. "I'm tracking how many times I doze off. Doctor says I might have a sleeping thing."
"I see." Yuuta nods slowly, before pointing to the man at the front of the classroom. "...I’m sure the excitement going on now isn’t helping." Yuuta smiles before turning back to the teacher, and Mizusawa is glad his friend isn’t giving into his habit of acting too concerned. He would hate to have to continue with the lie.
Though it's not completely a lie. He has been having some trouble sleeping lately, mostly because he can’t keep his mind off a certain someone.
Mizusawa doesn’t know much about the boy who'd suddenly started occupying all of his consciousness except that he's tall, quiet, and on rare occasions shows up to class with cuts and bruises adorning his face -- if he shows up to class at all.
So the fact that Mizusawa notices that little habit he has makes him feel like he's close to him. Like they're sharing a little secret between the two of them and only them and this connection will weather the passing of space and time. It's a testament to how much he thinks of the other boy, a scandalous obsession that the world won’t understand, a habit that sports a little danger and fills him with lot of shame.
But it's worth it. The slightest of smiles slips onto Mizusawa’s face as he carefully pens in a third notch under the heading for the week. He thinks it's so cute that a big tough guy like this kid named Kiyama has a nervous habit like that.
It would be about a year and a half before he learned that it wasn't.
Week of 12 October 2009:
||||\ ||||\ ||
But he just had to show up early that day.
He'd been hoping to get some studying done before morning practice. As luck would have it, he walked by the science lab the very second Tanimura-sensei was looking for some hapless student to help her clean up a mess involving a little broken glass and a lot of spilled liquids. Being the only guy around, he was quickly drafted to do the moving and shaking, which ended in him taking the mops and buckets to the roof so they could dry. He's a bit annoyed, but hides it as he complies with the teacher's request.
It’s only now, as he is coming to the final landing of that staircase does he see the sign -- "ENTRY PROHIBITED" -- and the chains blocking the door off that he remembers that he is indeed going to the roof. The bullies and delinquents hang out there. It is not a place for kids like him.
He swallows hard and and presses on.
It’s windy out today, so much so that the door at the top of the staircase wavers and sways. Mizusawa struggles to step over the chain and push the door open without dropping anything or having the door smack him in the face.
He sighs with relief when he makes it to the top unscathed, but his breath catches when he sees that someone else is there.
It's Kiyama.
He’s standing by the railing, slightly turned away, that bracelet pressed to his forehead. He's shaking, a lot. Enough to make Mizusawa wonder if -- no, no, this is Kiyama, one of those yankees half the school seems afraid of. He couldn't be crying.
But Mizusawa can’t stop looking, because he has to make sure. Looking a little to the side, he sees that there something about the way the Kiyama’s face is twisted... Mizusawa feels a tight, squeezing sensation in his chest that gets worse the longer he looks on, but he can’t tear his eyes way. It's that metaphorical train wreck, or maybe some intimate moment he shouldn't be looking at. As many times as he's seen the other boy mess with the bracelet, this is different.
This is wrong.
Mizusawa's limbs are frozen, and his face is burning up, his heart is beating so hard it makes his head hurt.
And then he drops the bucket.
The high-pitched, metallic clang of the bucket pierces though the low sound of the wind and lingers in the air. Before it stopped, the other pail falls to the ground, and soon everything in grasp is clattering at his feet. Mizusawa looks down at the mess surrounding him, before he looks up again and sees--
...Kiyama looking dead at him.
Mizusawa's gaze drops to his shoes again, and he feels his face burn a shade of red reserved for fire engines and crayon boxes. The air around him has suddenly become so hot, thick, heavy... Mizusawa finds he can’t move. But he needs to move.
Clumsily, he stoops down and reaches for a mop. Misses. Reaches again. Grabs it. Drops it. His hands are shaking so badly, every attempt he makes to pick up one of the cleaning things propels them a little further away from him.
He shuffles to the nearest thing, a mop, when he sees a hand that isn’t his pick it up. Mizusawa looks up to see Kiyama staring at him, looking at him with a face that is strangely composed compared to what he just saw, and even a little -- ugh, he can’t stand looking at it for more than a second, so he silently accepts the tool as his eyes fall to the ground again.
Another stick -- the other broom -- is shoved in his direction, and he takes it without thinking. From the safety of the ground, Mizusawa is able to watch as Kiyama stacks the pails beside him before he walks away, slipping through the fire exit door.
Only then can Mizusawa lift his head again, and it is only to look to mops in his grasp. His heart is still pounding so hard he can’t hear the wind or the when sound of Kiyama's footsteps stop echoing down the staircase. Even when his heart rate does slow, his mind starts up again.
...he looked mad. No, he always looks like that. No, actually he did look pretty mad. Maybe just annoyed. Definitely annoyed...
Mizusawa goes back and forth for while. Despite getting to campus so early that morning, he still manages to be late for practice.
“Mizusawa, you alright?”
Week of 19 October 2009:
--
When he can’t answer Yuuta’s question, Mizusawa sighs.
A certain Yankee Who Must Not Be Named has made no indication that he is upset about what happened the previous week, or that he even remembers that the boy who walked in on his moment was a member of his homeroom. Or he could have been shooting him nastiest leers from the back of the class. Mizusawa doesn’t know either way, as he can't bare to look in said yankee's direction since the occurrence.
He resorts to nodding furiously, not venturing to look towards Yuuta because Yuuta sits to his right and the yankee also sits to his right -- a further two columns over then three rows back, but still to his right -- and Mizusawa is quite sure that his head will explode the millisecond he looks in that general direction.
Mizusawa rather likes having a head, so he keeps his eyes glued to the blackboard in front of him.
And he figures that his answer does nothing to convince Yuuta, but the boy beside him quickly drops the subject and turns his attention back to his assignment. Only after that does Mizusawa turn his notebook to the back cover and his makeshift table of tallies, and another hopeless sigh escapes his lips.
Mizusawa's tally is empty for that week, and for a few weeks after that, too.
Things have gotten weird lately.
Week of 19 April 2010:
||||\ ||||\ ||||\ ||
Because he’s short on credits, the most rowdy delinquent in school is now a member of the gymnastics team. Mizusawa isn't sure if they're all friends, but all the yankees do seem to know each other, so the recruitment of the loud redhead is something of a two-for-one special. It's just that "two" works out to be every delinquent on campus. Only the showy blond and the dorky second-year stick around consistently, but Kiyama shows up enough.
That day, he shows up when the team is migrating from the locker rooms to the gymnasium, stopping Wataru and the other yankees for a brief word.
Yuuta bites his lip impatiently, Satoshi tilts his head curiously, and Kaneko turns away to polish his glasses on his shirt. Mizusawa messes with the hem of his tee, pretending not to listen. He only hears names he's unfamiliar with and ambiguous statements about something that could a surprise party or a gang fight.
Then there's a fist-bump, some parting words and the group starts moving again, the yankees jogging off toward the gym.
As he walks in the opposite direction, Kiyama doesn’t speak to or even look at the rest of the team as he saunters down the breezeway. Still, Mizusawa's heart jumps when he sees it. It’s brief; a momentary touch as he reaches over to adjust his grip on his schoolbag -- yes that counts.
Mizusawa wrings his hands. He can’t look at the bracelet anymore without thinking about that day on the rooftop, and wondering what Kiyama was thinking about. He's sad that Kiyama won’t talk to him -- and something makes him doubt that the other boy talks to anyone else about it.
But Mizusawa sees when Kiyama does that, and he knows that it means something. So he feels that maybe in some other world, on some other plane, the quiet yankee has told him all about the story behind the bracelet and how much it means to him. In some other world, on some other plane, Kiyama has opened his heart to him. In that special place he knows something so profound and beautiful that he can’t hope to comprehend the knowledge in this world of the ugly and mundane.
It’s a silly little thought, Mizusawa muses, but by then he notices that the rest of the team had dashed off and he runs off to catch them.
It’s that silly little thought that gets him through the rest of the day with a smile on his face.
This week would be tough.
Week of 10 May 2010:
|
Weeks, really. Circumstances involving the most rowdy of the delinquents in school and Yuuta's final push for the team to compete in a group meet had erupted into a variety of disasters since the school year began. The yankees’ getting into trouble seems to drag everyone down, but it’s this week that really stands out. When Satoshi collapses and admits to keeping secrets...
Kiyama pops up more and more, and then--
That can’t be true.
It came out of no where. And people, people have started saying things. His classmates, even the teachers... What they say makes so much sense in his head but not in his heart. He spends a few days confused and overwhelmed, but when he finally is able to pull himself together he finds himself lecturing those around him about perpetuating silly rumors.
Because they're rumors.
Just rumors.
When the team convenes to talk about it, Kaneko is doubtful while Satoshi is strangely emphatic. Yuuta gives him a few suspecting looks before he turns to the delinquent members of the team, offering words of support.
It takes a lot for Mizusawa to sit through that story Wataru tells them.
Mizusawa only catches it once that week -- a single time, when Kiyama is rushing down the halls to avoid everybody and everything. Seeing that, Mizusawa feels like a vice is clamped around his heart.
But as much as it hurts, knows that the other boy having an even harder week.
(...whywhywhywhy...)
Week of 17 May 2010:
--
--really Mizusawa is glad everything worked out he really really is but why did that happen why is he on the team now why is it not only class anymore but the locker room and practices and the bathhouse -- oh God oh God the bathhouse and--
--he's around all the time now--
--what if he notices--
--what if he sees--
--and Mizusawa's hands tremble whenever they come across his school bag because he can't risk dropping it again he knows his world will end if he does maybe the tally doesn't matter but there is no possible way he can explain away what he has in his student notebook and if if if--
(...whywhywhywhywhywhy...)
His habit had become his habit.
Week of 21 June 2010:
||
It’s a reflex now, so Mizusawa still finds himself shooting glances in his teammate's direction during moments like this, when everyone is hanging around the locker room after practice. Even past Kaneko and Nippori's play-fighting (or maybe real-fighting, he never can tell) and Kashiwagi-sensei darting about and passing around his latest garden concoction, he notices the second that Kiyama slips back on his prized bracelet. The boy's fingers trace along the beads before he turns back to his locker, a gesture that Mizusawa doesn’t miss.
Many things have happened in the previous weeks. Mizusawa doesn't know all the details about the bracelet, but what he's learned enough to fill in the gaps and spaces between what he had observed.
Kashiwagi rushes over and breaks Mizusawa's train of thought when he hands him a spoon piled with a gray, gel-like substance, then excitedly explains something. The boy doesn’t hear the words that come out of the teacher's mouth, but he nods as if he understands.
Before he knows what is going on, the teacher has disappeared again. Without the Kashiwagi blocking his view, Mizusawa is left staring at Kiyama, who has just finished putting his things away. And at the very same time, the other boy looks his way, too. Mizusawa's heart jumps and he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach at the same time.
Many things have happened in the previous weeks. Things aren't one-hundred percent okay between him and Kiyama yet, but Mizusawa can stand those gaps and spaces between the two of them.
Mizusawa opens his mouth to say something, but quickly stops. He really wants to tell Kiyama how glad he is that the other boy doesn’t seem to be messing with the bracelet anymore. He wants tell him how he's been watching the whole time and how he knows how much it means.
But he knows how strange that would be. Instead, he shoves the spoon with the gray jelly into his mouth. Kiyama eyes him suspiciously, and walks over.
"It's good," Mizusawa mumbles, as he works the sticky stuff around his mouth. It’s so bitter that he can only stand chewing it for a second before he swallows most of it down in a large, gooey glob.
"What?"
"This stuff, it's good."
Kiyama makes a face. He’s obviously tried the stuff already.
"You don’t think so? It really is!" Mizusawa tries for a smile, but at that exact moment the bitterness creeps up from the back of his throat. It ends up looking like he's retching.
But Kiyama smiles something closer to a smile back. "Sure... well, I’ll see you tomorrow."
Mizusawa knows he can’t open his mouth so soon without retching again, so he raises a hand and waves. The taller boy chuckles as he makes his way toward the steps and leaves the clubroom.
After watching Kiyama leave, Mizusawa finds himself looking back to the Nippori/Kaneko conflict, and laughing to himself. He's caught off guard when he feels someone tapping on his shoulder. He looks up to see that Yuuta is standing beside him... and that without noticing, Mizusawa had taken his notebook out of his bookbag and was flipping through its pages.
"This is random, but I was thinking about it the other day," starts the team captain. "Isn't that the same notebook from freshman year?"
Mizusawa wonders if that’s a rhetorical question; the page he stopped on clearly has a date from two years ago written on the top of the page. He nods.
Yuuta rubs his chin and frowns a bit before speaking again. "You're sleeping better recently, right?"
Mizusawa just stares at his friend for a moment, until he remembers -- that lie he told way back then. Instead of answering immediately, he turns to the inside cover and the smeared page of tallies. There really haven't been as many marks in the last several weeks. Not only are there fewer tallies, but he’s been troubled less about what they’ve meant... and only then does he realize that all kinds of things are better now. Much better.
That makes Mizusawa smile.
"Yeah, I am."