Starting Point 2/4 (for maplarojcan)
Title: Starting Point 2/4
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Romance, Slice of Life
Word count: 14, 498
Recipient: maplarojcan
Summary: Love starts in many ways. Some more unconventional than others, but each eventually taking their own course.
Author’s Note: Seasons are assigned according to how Japanese dramas are classified (from my knowledge). So Winter = January-March, Spring = April-June, Summer = July-September, Autumn= October-December. This is a work of fiction. Characters are not mine. Plot and the way characters are portrayed are made thus for the purpose of this creative work of fiction. Made for the 2014 Yamajima Summer Exchange.
Continued from Part 1
2011, SUMMER
“I’m doomed,” Yuto groaned, facedown on a table in a family restaurant near their cram school. It was the first day of summer vacation, and somehow Chinen thought it was a nice idea to do their summer homework as soon as possible. Yuto was holding a slightly crumpled piece of paper in his hands, the only visible source of his misery.
“It’s not the end of the world, Yutti, it’s just a mock exam,” Chinen mumbled, distracted by the chemical equation he was trying to balance.
“But with these results, I won’t be able to get into Toudai with you,” he said, voice muffled from his face being firmly planted onto the wood of the table. “The only stuff I passed are the humanities sections, and that won’t be enough. My parents would disown me.”
“They won’t, but they would probably ground you for life if you don’t graduate from high school. That won’t happen if you start doing your homework as soon as possible,” Chinen said, tapping on the table near Yuto’s head. “Starting now.”
“I’m too depressed to memorize the one hundred numbers of pi or balance chemical equations,” Yuto said, raising his head to look at all the textbooks and papers Chinen had spread in front of him.
“Look at it this way; you failed an exam you aren’t even qualified to take yet. We’re supposed to take the mock exam at the beginning of our third year; we’re barely halfway through our second year. Passing all the humanities sections is a huge achievement. You still have a year and a half to study for the real thing, it’ll be alright,” Chinen said.
“Says the person who passed everything with flying colors,” said Yuto mutinously, pushing Chinen’s eraser around the surface of the table. “Can’t we go to the beach instead?”
Chinen’s response was to hit him on the head with his pencil.
“OW. That hurt!”
“Good. Maybe the pain will wake you up to your stupidity.”
“Why’d you hit me for? I was joking!” he asked, rubbing at the sore part on the top of his skull.
“Because you were being stupid, and going to the beach right now won’t help you pass your exams,” Chinen scolded, eyes glued to his textbook. Yuto sighed and pulled out his own books and opening them to the dreaded practice problems.
“I feel like I’m getting more stupid by the minute,” Yuto declared half an hour later, now facedown on his chemistry book. Chinen leaned back and closed his own chemistry book, rubbing his eyes.
“I feel like my brain dried up,” Chinen said.
“Juice? I’ll pay,” Yuto said. The grin on Chinen’s face was enough of an answer.
“Thanks Yutti!” he called out as Yuto walked to the counter.
He was turning back towards their seats when someone outside the coffee shop across the street caught his attention. A familiar guy was sipping from a cup of iced coffee. Yuto said his name, even if he was inside the restaurant and the other person was already getting in a taxi.
“Yamada-san…”
Chinen had gotten up from their table and jogged to Yuto’s side.
“Are the drinks that heavy? You’ve been standing there for five minutes,” Chinen said, experimentally poking at Yuto’s arm and not getting any reaction. “Earth to Yutti?”
“Uh, what?” Yuto said, finally going back down to reality. He turned to Chinen, looking surprised that he was standing next to him.
“Come on big guy, the ice’s gonna melt,” Chinen said, steering Yuto back to their seat.
2011, SUMMER
Yuto was waiting for Chinen in the coffee shop across the street from the restaurant they were in a few days back, spinning a mechanical pencil between his fingers absentmindedly as he tried to work through more of his summer homework. A waiter approached him to give him a glass of water and the menu.
“Thank you,” Yuto said distractedly, scribbling down a few words that weren’t obviously schoolwork on a blank piece of paper.
“Ah, it’s you! Nakajima Yuto-san!” a surprised voice said. Yuto looked up to see the waiter staring at him in recognition. He blinked, trying to remember where he saw him before.
“We met in that poetry slam? Uh, your friend tore your poem from your notebook and asked me to give it to Yamada-kun?” he said.
“Ah! Inoo-san…? Yuto said cautiously, relieved when he nodded.
“I have something for you,” he said. “If you can wait, my shift ends in an hour or so. Drinks on me,” he added, scooping up the menu he had placed in front of Yuto and ignoring his protests.
Two hours later brought a text from Chinen saying he forgot they talked about meeting today and something urgent came up, endlessly apologizing and promising to make it up to him. Yuto has just finished sending his reply when Inoo slid into the booth he was in, now decked out in casual clothes and bearing two more iced coffees. He placed one of the coffee cups in front of Yuto.
“I haven’t even finished the one you gave me earlier,” Yuto said lightly, raising the said coffee for Inoo’s inspection.
“Don’t worry, I’m still paying for it,” Inoo said. He looked at the notebook under Yuto’s hand, filled with poems in his large, disorganized handwriting. “So you still write?” he asked conversationally, making Yuto start and self-consciously close his notebook when he noticed where Inoo was looking.
“Yeah… Sometimes I find myself just writing down a lot of stuff when I’m stressed. When I procrastinate, I almost always write,” Yuto said. Inoo nodded, then rummaged in his bag for something.
“Got it,” he said, holding up a small red USB drive and pulling out his laptop. Yuto saw Inoo’s desktop background-him and another guy bent over drafting tables and smiling at the camera-before Inoo plugged in the USB drive and played the video file in it.
“Yamada-kun showed up the next day and I gave him the poem like I said, but I realized I had no way to contact you guys. I asked a friend and he took a video of Yamada-kun’s performances,” Inoo said, waiting for the video to load. “Sorry, my laptop’s a bit ancient, so this might take a while.”
“Performances?” Yuto asked, noticing the plural. Inoo smiled.
“Yamada-kun liked the piece you wrote very much. He didn’t know when you’ll show up to watch a poetry slam so he’s been performing your poem everywhere he goes,” Inoo said. Yuto was about to ask something when the video finally started playing.
The video began with a dark stage, the spotlight only showing a microphone stand and the person standing on stage. Yamada was wearing a loose long-sleeved white sweater, and Yuto watched as he stepped forward and began reciting the poem he wrote.
It was his, word for word. But somehow, it became Yamada’s poem as well as he moved through the paces, infusing every letter with emotion. Yuto doubted he could perform this half as well as Yamada did. It was like Yamada made him understand the essence of what he wrote down on paper, that every word now made sense when he said it out loud. And it was also as much as watching Yamada as listening to him perform. Anyone can see the play of emotions in his eyes as he let go of every line, pushing the feelings of the persona in the poem from his heart and out of his chest through his mouth.
There was that word again.
Breathtaking.
“You made a lot of people cry, you know,” Inoo said quietly. Yuto was staring at the blank laptop screen, the video long over. “Your poem was a huge hit in all the poetry slams Yamada-kun performed it in.”
“That’s because Yamada-kun did such a good job in performing it. The back of a medicine carton would sound like Shakespeare if he read it out loud,” Yuto said. Inoo let out a short burst of laughter.
“You don’t really know, don’t you? The power your words have over people,” Inoo said. He smiled when Yuto shook his head in denial.
“You guys are really something. Say, can I borrow this?” he said, pulling Yuto’s notebook towards him and flipping it to the last page without waiting for Yuto’s answer. He scribbled down a number and an e-mail address before giving it back.
“Call him. I’m sure he wants to thank you for letting him perform your poem,” Inoo said with a smile. Yuto stared at the writing on his notebook, a smile finding its way on his lips.
2011, SUMMER
“What do you mean you haven’t called him?” Chinen and Inoo said at the same time. Yuto groaned and buried his face in his arms. The three of them were in the coffee shop; Inoo offered to tutor them for the summer, and Chinen and Inoo hit off pretty well (being Chinen). The both of them have taken an invested interest on Yuto’s contact with Yamada-specifically, its inexistence.
“I can’t just call him! What am I supposed to say?!” Yuto wailed. Chinen casually flipped the book he was holding upside-down and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.
“Inoo-chan, please talk to him. I’ll just question my life choices about becoming friends with this guy,” he said. Inoo sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Yuto-kun, I gave you his number and his e-mail address. I’ll even give you his home address if I knew it,” Inoo said. Chinen had recovered and opened Yuto’s bag, sifting through its contents.
“What are you doing?” Yuto asked in a tired voice that spoke of defeat.
“Bullying you into doing something you should have done a long time ago. If I knew you already had his number I would’ve done this sooner,” Chinen said, looking at the line of numbers and typing them into the phone. Yuto patted at his pockets, recognizing too late that Chinen was using his phone.
“How did you get that-why are you always stealing my stuff?!” Yuto said, trying to get his phone back. Chinen swatted his hands away, finished dialing and put the phone on speaker.
“Chinen, I am going to kill you-”
“Hello?” a voice coming from the phone, heavy with sleep, said. Chinen and Yuto both froze, while Inoo calmly sipped his coffee. “Who is this?”
“Don’t say anything and maybe he’ll just think it’s a wrong number-” Yuto whispered.
“Hello there, Yamada-kun! Sorry, did we wake you?” Inoo cheerfully said, making Yuto groan and Chinen laugh.
“Inoo-kun? Did you change numbers? Your number’s not registered…” the voice said, stifling a yawn.
“This isn’t my phone! Though it’ll be better if you save this number,” Inoo said mischievously.
“Are you drunk again? Whose phone did you use to drunk-dial me this time?” Yamada asked. Yuto cleared his throat.
“Um. It’s my phone,” he said nervously.
“I am so sorry for Inoo-kun bothering you… um…?”
“Nakajima. Nakajima Yuto.”
There was silence before the three of them heard a loud thumping sound from the other end of the receiver-like somebody fell out of bed.
“Eh? Is this really Nakajima-san? Oh wow,” Yamada said, voice obviously filled with awe. “Can I just say that I’m extremely honored and grateful to be able to perform your poem?”
“It’s not like it was a big deal. I should be the one thanking you for making something written that bad sound even remotely acceptable-"
“What are you talking about?” Even through the phone, the total incredulity in Yamada’s voice still came through. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever read.”
“Yutti, your face is extremely red,” Chinen observed with a small snigger. Face burning, Yuto swept up his phone and left their table, continuing to stammer out his thanks for Yamada and promising to let him read other things he had written out of relative earshot from Inoo and Chinen.
2011, AUTUMN
“Eh? Hikaru, what are you doing here so early? Our shift doesn’t start in three hours,” Inoo said in surprise. Yamada, Chinen and Yuto looked up from the review questions that Inoo gave them to see the person he was addressing; a guy around Inoo’s height, with crooked teeth but a bright smile and nicely built even if he looked skinny.
“The lecture ended early, and I thought I’d wanted to try practicing that latte art I messed up a few days ago,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and taking in the eavesdroppers in his conversation, giving them a little wave. Inoo started and straightened up in his seat, gesturing at the other three.
“How rude of me. Everyone, meet Yaotome Hikaru, artist of all trades. His family owns half of the chain enterprise of this coffee shop, and all the art you can see in this establishment was done by him,” Inoo said, Yuto noting the hint of pride in his voice. Yamada and Chinen’s eyes were shining bright as they all bowed towards Hikaru, while the latter ducked his head in embarrassment.
“Will you quit introducing me like that? His family owns the other half of the coffee shop chain, so it’s not much of a big deal,” he told the others. Inoo grinned and chose not to comment, quickly rattling off their names to Hikaru.
“Wait, I know you two!” he exclaimed when he heard Yuto and Yamada’s names. “You always performed that poem he wrote,” he said to Yamada while gesturing at Yuto. “I’ve always watched you perform when we hold poetry slams here. The both of you are pretty good.”
Both of them shook their heads, instinctively denying the praise directed at them due to the deeply-ingrained humility in them. Hikaru looked at Chinen, who was quietly enjoying his friends’ fame for them. “And I’m sure you’re famous in one way or another. I see you a lot in Arashi live houses.”
“You’re a fan too?!” Chinen asked in obvious delight; anyone liking Arashi was automatically eligible for his friendship. Inoo, Yuto and Yamada laughed as Chinen rapidly shot off questions about Arashi to Hikaru, who was actually starting to look a bit scared.
“Hikaru, that latte art won’t make itself,” Inoo said, rescuing him from another round of Arashi questions. Hikaru shot him a grateful look and waved to the others before going behind the counter and tying an apron around his waist. Yamada was looking around the coffee shop in admiration.
“Wow, Yaotome-san is a really good artist,” Yamada said.
“He was personally scouted by our university’s theater organization to help paint the backdrops needed for plays,” Inoo said proudly. “The theater organization of our school is pretty famous inside and outside the campus, so it’s a really great honor to be chosen like that. Sometimes he ropes me in to help in the stage design.”
“I remember where I saw him before!” he exclaimed, making everyone else look at him in surprise. He turned to Inoo. “He was the other guy with you in that picture on your desktop, right?”
Chinen and Yamada turned to Inoo, whose face had turned into an interesting shade of crimson. “Don’t say anything to him about that,” was his only reply.
Call it subtle threatening, but it felt as if the mock exam Inoo gave them afterwards was noticeably harder than the ones he gave them before.
2012, AUTUMN
“You guys sure you’ve got everything you need?” Inoo asked them for the fifth time. “Exam permits, extra pencils, erasers, enough brain cells-?”
“You’re making the kids nervous, Kei-chan,” Hikaru said with a quiet laugh before turning towards the three of them. “You guys will be fine. Just be careful when answering okay?”
Yuto, Yamada and Chinen all answered in varying forms of affirmation, but they still looked nervous. They had a right to be nervous; it was the first university admissions exam they were going to take, and by some miracle all three of them were seated next to each other. Even Chinen looked a little brittle today, his usual confident jokes not making any appearances. Yamada was clutching a handmade omamori in his left hand, and Yuto was unconsciously tapping his fingers on his thigh to a beat only he could hear. Inoo and Hikaru straightened into attention, saluting all three exam-takers.
“Ganbatte ne. Itterashai!” they said. The three returned their salutes with smiles on their faces. Inoo watched them walk towards the exam venue with a wistful smile-Yuto and Chinen wearing the blazers of their school uniform and Yamada in his gakuran-as Hikaru chuckled beside him.
“You look like you’re sending off your own kids,” Hikaru observed with amusement. Inoo lightly elbowed Hikaru’s arm.
“It kinda feels that way. You’re the same too,” Inoo said. Hikaru smiled and nodded in quiet agreement.
----
Continued in Part 3
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Romance, Slice of Life
Word count: 14, 498
Recipient: maplarojcan
Summary: Love starts in many ways. Some more unconventional than others, but each eventually taking their own course.
Author’s Note: Seasons are assigned according to how Japanese dramas are classified (from my knowledge). So Winter = January-March, Spring = April-June, Summer = July-September, Autumn= October-December. This is a work of fiction. Characters are not mine. Plot and the way characters are portrayed are made thus for the purpose of this creative work of fiction. Made for the 2014 Yamajima Summer Exchange.
Continued from Part 1
2011, SUMMER
“I’m doomed,” Yuto groaned, facedown on a table in a family restaurant near their cram school. It was the first day of summer vacation, and somehow Chinen thought it was a nice idea to do their summer homework as soon as possible. Yuto was holding a slightly crumpled piece of paper in his hands, the only visible source of his misery.
“It’s not the end of the world, Yutti, it’s just a mock exam,” Chinen mumbled, distracted by the chemical equation he was trying to balance.
“But with these results, I won’t be able to get into Toudai with you,” he said, voice muffled from his face being firmly planted onto the wood of the table. “The only stuff I passed are the humanities sections, and that won’t be enough. My parents would disown me.”
“They won’t, but they would probably ground you for life if you don’t graduate from high school. That won’t happen if you start doing your homework as soon as possible,” Chinen said, tapping on the table near Yuto’s head. “Starting now.”
“I’m too depressed to memorize the one hundred numbers of pi or balance chemical equations,” Yuto said, raising his head to look at all the textbooks and papers Chinen had spread in front of him.
“Look at it this way; you failed an exam you aren’t even qualified to take yet. We’re supposed to take the mock exam at the beginning of our third year; we’re barely halfway through our second year. Passing all the humanities sections is a huge achievement. You still have a year and a half to study for the real thing, it’ll be alright,” Chinen said.
“Says the person who passed everything with flying colors,” said Yuto mutinously, pushing Chinen’s eraser around the surface of the table. “Can’t we go to the beach instead?”
Chinen’s response was to hit him on the head with his pencil.
“OW. That hurt!”
“Good. Maybe the pain will wake you up to your stupidity.”
“Why’d you hit me for? I was joking!” he asked, rubbing at the sore part on the top of his skull.
“Because you were being stupid, and going to the beach right now won’t help you pass your exams,” Chinen scolded, eyes glued to his textbook. Yuto sighed and pulled out his own books and opening them to the dreaded practice problems.
“I feel like I’m getting more stupid by the minute,” Yuto declared half an hour later, now facedown on his chemistry book. Chinen leaned back and closed his own chemistry book, rubbing his eyes.
“I feel like my brain dried up,” Chinen said.
“Juice? I’ll pay,” Yuto said. The grin on Chinen’s face was enough of an answer.
“Thanks Yutti!” he called out as Yuto walked to the counter.
He was turning back towards their seats when someone outside the coffee shop across the street caught his attention. A familiar guy was sipping from a cup of iced coffee. Yuto said his name, even if he was inside the restaurant and the other person was already getting in a taxi.
“Yamada-san…”
Chinen had gotten up from their table and jogged to Yuto’s side.
“Are the drinks that heavy? You’ve been standing there for five minutes,” Chinen said, experimentally poking at Yuto’s arm and not getting any reaction. “Earth to Yutti?”
“Uh, what?” Yuto said, finally going back down to reality. He turned to Chinen, looking surprised that he was standing next to him.
“Come on big guy, the ice’s gonna melt,” Chinen said, steering Yuto back to their seat.
2011, SUMMER
Yuto was waiting for Chinen in the coffee shop across the street from the restaurant they were in a few days back, spinning a mechanical pencil between his fingers absentmindedly as he tried to work through more of his summer homework. A waiter approached him to give him a glass of water and the menu.
“Thank you,” Yuto said distractedly, scribbling down a few words that weren’t obviously schoolwork on a blank piece of paper.
“Ah, it’s you! Nakajima Yuto-san!” a surprised voice said. Yuto looked up to see the waiter staring at him in recognition. He blinked, trying to remember where he saw him before.
“We met in that poetry slam? Uh, your friend tore your poem from your notebook and asked me to give it to Yamada-kun?” he said.
“Ah! Inoo-san…? Yuto said cautiously, relieved when he nodded.
“I have something for you,” he said. “If you can wait, my shift ends in an hour or so. Drinks on me,” he added, scooping up the menu he had placed in front of Yuto and ignoring his protests.
Two hours later brought a text from Chinen saying he forgot they talked about meeting today and something urgent came up, endlessly apologizing and promising to make it up to him. Yuto has just finished sending his reply when Inoo slid into the booth he was in, now decked out in casual clothes and bearing two more iced coffees. He placed one of the coffee cups in front of Yuto.
“I haven’t even finished the one you gave me earlier,” Yuto said lightly, raising the said coffee for Inoo’s inspection.
“Don’t worry, I’m still paying for it,” Inoo said. He looked at the notebook under Yuto’s hand, filled with poems in his large, disorganized handwriting. “So you still write?” he asked conversationally, making Yuto start and self-consciously close his notebook when he noticed where Inoo was looking.
“Yeah… Sometimes I find myself just writing down a lot of stuff when I’m stressed. When I procrastinate, I almost always write,” Yuto said. Inoo nodded, then rummaged in his bag for something.
“Got it,” he said, holding up a small red USB drive and pulling out his laptop. Yuto saw Inoo’s desktop background-him and another guy bent over drafting tables and smiling at the camera-before Inoo plugged in the USB drive and played the video file in it.
“Yamada-kun showed up the next day and I gave him the poem like I said, but I realized I had no way to contact you guys. I asked a friend and he took a video of Yamada-kun’s performances,” Inoo said, waiting for the video to load. “Sorry, my laptop’s a bit ancient, so this might take a while.”
“Performances?” Yuto asked, noticing the plural. Inoo smiled.
“Yamada-kun liked the piece you wrote very much. He didn’t know when you’ll show up to watch a poetry slam so he’s been performing your poem everywhere he goes,” Inoo said. Yuto was about to ask something when the video finally started playing.
The video began with a dark stage, the spotlight only showing a microphone stand and the person standing on stage. Yamada was wearing a loose long-sleeved white sweater, and Yuto watched as he stepped forward and began reciting the poem he wrote.
It was his, word for word. But somehow, it became Yamada’s poem as well as he moved through the paces, infusing every letter with emotion. Yuto doubted he could perform this half as well as Yamada did. It was like Yamada made him understand the essence of what he wrote down on paper, that every word now made sense when he said it out loud. And it was also as much as watching Yamada as listening to him perform. Anyone can see the play of emotions in his eyes as he let go of every line, pushing the feelings of the persona in the poem from his heart and out of his chest through his mouth.
There was that word again.
Breathtaking.
“You made a lot of people cry, you know,” Inoo said quietly. Yuto was staring at the blank laptop screen, the video long over. “Your poem was a huge hit in all the poetry slams Yamada-kun performed it in.”
“That’s because Yamada-kun did such a good job in performing it. The back of a medicine carton would sound like Shakespeare if he read it out loud,” Yuto said. Inoo let out a short burst of laughter.
“You don’t really know, don’t you? The power your words have over people,” Inoo said. He smiled when Yuto shook his head in denial.
“You guys are really something. Say, can I borrow this?” he said, pulling Yuto’s notebook towards him and flipping it to the last page without waiting for Yuto’s answer. He scribbled down a number and an e-mail address before giving it back.
“Call him. I’m sure he wants to thank you for letting him perform your poem,” Inoo said with a smile. Yuto stared at the writing on his notebook, a smile finding its way on his lips.
2011, SUMMER
“What do you mean you haven’t called him?” Chinen and Inoo said at the same time. Yuto groaned and buried his face in his arms. The three of them were in the coffee shop; Inoo offered to tutor them for the summer, and Chinen and Inoo hit off pretty well (being Chinen). The both of them have taken an invested interest on Yuto’s contact with Yamada-specifically, its inexistence.
“I can’t just call him! What am I supposed to say?!” Yuto wailed. Chinen casually flipped the book he was holding upside-down and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.
“Inoo-chan, please talk to him. I’ll just question my life choices about becoming friends with this guy,” he said. Inoo sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Yuto-kun, I gave you his number and his e-mail address. I’ll even give you his home address if I knew it,” Inoo said. Chinen had recovered and opened Yuto’s bag, sifting through its contents.
“What are you doing?” Yuto asked in a tired voice that spoke of defeat.
“Bullying you into doing something you should have done a long time ago. If I knew you already had his number I would’ve done this sooner,” Chinen said, looking at the line of numbers and typing them into the phone. Yuto patted at his pockets, recognizing too late that Chinen was using his phone.
“How did you get that-why are you always stealing my stuff?!” Yuto said, trying to get his phone back. Chinen swatted his hands away, finished dialing and put the phone on speaker.
“Chinen, I am going to kill you-”
“Hello?” a voice coming from the phone, heavy with sleep, said. Chinen and Yuto both froze, while Inoo calmly sipped his coffee. “Who is this?”
“Don’t say anything and maybe he’ll just think it’s a wrong number-” Yuto whispered.
“Hello there, Yamada-kun! Sorry, did we wake you?” Inoo cheerfully said, making Yuto groan and Chinen laugh.
“Inoo-kun? Did you change numbers? Your number’s not registered…” the voice said, stifling a yawn.
“This isn’t my phone! Though it’ll be better if you save this number,” Inoo said mischievously.
“Are you drunk again? Whose phone did you use to drunk-dial me this time?” Yamada asked. Yuto cleared his throat.
“Um. It’s my phone,” he said nervously.
“I am so sorry for Inoo-kun bothering you… um…?”
“Nakajima. Nakajima Yuto.”
There was silence before the three of them heard a loud thumping sound from the other end of the receiver-like somebody fell out of bed.
“Eh? Is this really Nakajima-san? Oh wow,” Yamada said, voice obviously filled with awe. “Can I just say that I’m extremely honored and grateful to be able to perform your poem?”
“It’s not like it was a big deal. I should be the one thanking you for making something written that bad sound even remotely acceptable-"
“What are you talking about?” Even through the phone, the total incredulity in Yamada’s voice still came through. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever read.”
“Yutti, your face is extremely red,” Chinen observed with a small snigger. Face burning, Yuto swept up his phone and left their table, continuing to stammer out his thanks for Yamada and promising to let him read other things he had written out of relative earshot from Inoo and Chinen.
2011, AUTUMN
“Eh? Hikaru, what are you doing here so early? Our shift doesn’t start in three hours,” Inoo said in surprise. Yamada, Chinen and Yuto looked up from the review questions that Inoo gave them to see the person he was addressing; a guy around Inoo’s height, with crooked teeth but a bright smile and nicely built even if he looked skinny.
“The lecture ended early, and I thought I’d wanted to try practicing that latte art I messed up a few days ago,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and taking in the eavesdroppers in his conversation, giving them a little wave. Inoo started and straightened up in his seat, gesturing at the other three.
“How rude of me. Everyone, meet Yaotome Hikaru, artist of all trades. His family owns half of the chain enterprise of this coffee shop, and all the art you can see in this establishment was done by him,” Inoo said, Yuto noting the hint of pride in his voice. Yamada and Chinen’s eyes were shining bright as they all bowed towards Hikaru, while the latter ducked his head in embarrassment.
“Will you quit introducing me like that? His family owns the other half of the coffee shop chain, so it’s not much of a big deal,” he told the others. Inoo grinned and chose not to comment, quickly rattling off their names to Hikaru.
“Wait, I know you two!” he exclaimed when he heard Yuto and Yamada’s names. “You always performed that poem he wrote,” he said to Yamada while gesturing at Yuto. “I’ve always watched you perform when we hold poetry slams here. The both of you are pretty good.”
Both of them shook their heads, instinctively denying the praise directed at them due to the deeply-ingrained humility in them. Hikaru looked at Chinen, who was quietly enjoying his friends’ fame for them. “And I’m sure you’re famous in one way or another. I see you a lot in Arashi live houses.”
“You’re a fan too?!” Chinen asked in obvious delight; anyone liking Arashi was automatically eligible for his friendship. Inoo, Yuto and Yamada laughed as Chinen rapidly shot off questions about Arashi to Hikaru, who was actually starting to look a bit scared.
“Hikaru, that latte art won’t make itself,” Inoo said, rescuing him from another round of Arashi questions. Hikaru shot him a grateful look and waved to the others before going behind the counter and tying an apron around his waist. Yamada was looking around the coffee shop in admiration.
“Wow, Yaotome-san is a really good artist,” Yamada said.
“He was personally scouted by our university’s theater organization to help paint the backdrops needed for plays,” Inoo said proudly. “The theater organization of our school is pretty famous inside and outside the campus, so it’s a really great honor to be chosen like that. Sometimes he ropes me in to help in the stage design.”
“I remember where I saw him before!” he exclaimed, making everyone else look at him in surprise. He turned to Inoo. “He was the other guy with you in that picture on your desktop, right?”
Chinen and Yamada turned to Inoo, whose face had turned into an interesting shade of crimson. “Don’t say anything to him about that,” was his only reply.
Call it subtle threatening, but it felt as if the mock exam Inoo gave them afterwards was noticeably harder than the ones he gave them before.
2012, AUTUMN
“You guys sure you’ve got everything you need?” Inoo asked them for the fifth time. “Exam permits, extra pencils, erasers, enough brain cells-?”
“You’re making the kids nervous, Kei-chan,” Hikaru said with a quiet laugh before turning towards the three of them. “You guys will be fine. Just be careful when answering okay?”
Yuto, Yamada and Chinen all answered in varying forms of affirmation, but they still looked nervous. They had a right to be nervous; it was the first university admissions exam they were going to take, and by some miracle all three of them were seated next to each other. Even Chinen looked a little brittle today, his usual confident jokes not making any appearances. Yamada was clutching a handmade omamori in his left hand, and Yuto was unconsciously tapping his fingers on his thigh to a beat only he could hear. Inoo and Hikaru straightened into attention, saluting all three exam-takers.
“Ganbatte ne. Itterashai!” they said. The three returned their salutes with smiles on their faces. Inoo watched them walk towards the exam venue with a wistful smile-Yuto and Chinen wearing the blazers of their school uniform and Yamada in his gakuran-as Hikaru chuckled beside him.
“You look like you’re sending off your own kids,” Hikaru observed with amusement. Inoo lightly elbowed Hikaru’s arm.
“It kinda feels that way. You’re the same too,” Inoo said. Hikaru smiled and nodded in quiet agreement.
----
Continued in Part 3