Switch-Hitting Part 1
1. Puddle of Mudd--She Hates Me
When Kazuya first finds out about it, he's not at all keen on an American foreign exchange student coming to live with them for a year. He's even less keen on the idea when he realizes exactly what the 'exchange' part entails-that his brother Kōji would have to spend the next year at a college in America. That's halfway around the world. 7000 miles away (not that Kazuya thought to Google it or anything). Kazuya feels so betrayed by his brother's decision that he doesn't speak to him for the whole month before he's set to leave, instead looking on and scowling silently as Kōji packs what looks like his entire life into his big suitcase.
Kazuya tries to be strong and support Kōji, knowing that this is something the other has always wanted, but it's hard-so hard when his brother's belongings slowly but surely disappear from the walls and shelves of their shared room. As angry and hurt as he feels that Kōji is leaving them, he doesn't cry or shout. Instead, he keeps his lips tightly shut and slips a photo of the two of them together in Kōji's bag when the other isn't looking.
When the day comes, however, to drive to Narita and send Kōji on his way, Kazuya completely breaks down.
Needless to say, he isn't exactly excited to meet the guy who'll be sleeping in Kōji's futon for the next year when his parents go to pick him up from the airport two days later.
He's laying in his room, tossing a baseball at the ceiling and trying not to look at the off-color patches of paint on the walls that indicate where Kōji's posters used to be when he hears the car pull up. He holds the ball in his hand, listening to the slamming of car doors and his parents' excited voices, followed by the sound of rushed footsteps going down the stairs and the screen door slamming open and closed again (no doubt Yuya hurrying out to greet their new guest), but Kazuya doesn't feel the slightest urge to follow. He wonders if maybe he can feign sleep until he has to leave for baseball practice to avoid the little meet-and-greet session, but he doesn't have his eyes closed for more than five seconds when he hears his mother call up the stairs for him to come down.
He tries to ignore her, but it becomes progressively harder when she starts threatening, and when it's his lucky baseball glove on the line, he resigns himself to his fate, trudging down the stairs with as much grace and enthusiasm as a teenage hikikomori being forced to attend a school festival. He feels the weight of his parents' expectant gazes on him, no doubt waiting for him to greet their guest with the same warm welcome as they've shown him, but he doesn't feel particularly inclined to oblige them. He regards the foreigner with a cool glance, his lips curling into a sneer when he takes in his disheveled appearance. Typical of an American, Kazuya thinks-messy, wrinkled clothes...not to mention his pores are bigger than some of the craters on Mars.
Kazuya doesn't think once that he's being unfair, considering the guy just got off an eleven-hour flight from another country and all; he sees what he wants to see, which is that he still has his puffy basketball shoes on his feet after he greets him from behind aviator sunglasses with a cool, “'Sup?” (whatever that's supposed to mean) and steps out of the genkan. Kazuya decides he's had enough when his parents politely correct their guest's mistake, assuring him that it's all right, but if he could remember to please switch into house slippers next time, they would greatly appreciate it. While they all laugh it off, Kazuya rolls his eyes and heads back upstairs, mumbling something about having to rest up for practice as an excuse.
He feels his mother's unimpressed eyes boring into his back as he goes, but he doesn't stop or turn around, even when hearing her introduce him as 'the brat, also known as Kazuya' makes an unpleasant shiver run down his spine. Whatever illusion of family his parents are trying to create to welcome their guest by insisting he call them 'Mom' and 'Dad' and introducing their sons by their given names, he doesn't have to go along with it. He has absolutely no desire to be on first-name terms with a complete stranger. Likewise, he doesn't bother to learn the newcomer's name, and when the time for practice finally does come several hours later, he bolts out the door without so much as a word to anyone.
2. Ben Folds--You Don't Know Me
He can't ignore him forever, though, especially considering they'll be rooming together. Kazuya's harshly reminded of both of these facts when he comes back to his room after his evening bath to find the guy unpacking his suitcases by lamplight. He doesn't spare the other a look as he falls into his futon with a groan, and he pulls a sheet over his tired body. “If you've got jet lag,” he says more to the wall than his new roommate, “would you mind being awake somewhere else? I have a two-a-day tomorrow.”
He hears more than sees the American pause in folding a pair of briefs. “Sure.”
Well, at least the guy knows a little bit of Japanese. Then again, his home university probably wouldn't have let him come to Japan in the first place if he didn't. Thinking that the year won't be a total loss after all (at least he'll be able to tell him off and order him around without getting a frustratingly blank expression in response), Kazuya further informs him, “I don't want you calling me by my first name, either. Only my close friends and my family can do that.” The way he clarifies it reveals exactly what he thinks of the term 'host family'. “I usually go by 'Kame,' so if you want to call me that, that's fine, I guess.”
It isn't until he hears him answer back with, “Sure,” again that Kazuya turns around and looks at him properly for the first time.
“Wait, you're Japanese,” he blurts out, all but gawking at the familiarity he finds in the other's features.
“Japanese-American,” the other replies, tightly, icily. Setting the briefs inside a drawer, he turns around and gives Kazuya a look that makes the baseball player think that maybe he should be a bit more careful about what he says before heading for the door. He has a hand on the doorknob when he turns and says, “My name's Jin Akanishi, but you can call me Jin. Yoroshiku, ne?” With a short bow, he meets Kazuya's surprised gaze once more before stepping out, pulling the door closed behind him.
Kazuya stares at the wooden surface for a moment before rolling over again, feeling his heart pang over just how much had changed in the last 72 hours. As he closes his eyes, the last thought that enters his mind is that he hopes having Jin around the house won't change things too much. Somehow, he doubts that'll be the case.
~*~*~*~
3. Head Automatica--Beating Hearts Baby
For the next several days, between baseball practice and his parents taking Jin to do all of the boring, administrative stuff necessary for him to stay in Japan without running out of money or getting kicked out of the country, Kazuya sees very little of his new roommate. He'd like to see even less of him, but unfortunately, that's impossible (seeing as they share a bedroom and a bathroom, after all). Nearly a week of living with the guy and overhearing his conversations with the rest of his family is enough to let him know that although Jin is nowhere near fluent in Japanese (a fact he finds positively fascinating given his obvious heritage), he's at least competent, which makes it very convenient when Kazuya needs to get at the bathroom sink in the morning or when he trips over Jin's shoes in the genkan for the third time in as many days.
Although usually when Kazuya sees Jin, the exchange student tries to look blank or averts his eyes, every once in a while, Jin fixes him with a look that asks why Kazuya's so cold with him when he hasn't done anything wrong. Deep down Kazuya knows he's being unfair; it's by no means Jin's fault that Kōji wanted to study in America badly enough to up and leave them for a year. Still, Kazuya can't find it within himself to change his ways, even as he loses track of how many times his mother finds it necessary to swat the back of his head for being silent at mealtimes.
The truth is, as time goes on, instead of warming up to him, his motivation to avoid Jin grows stronger. Or perhaps it's because he finds himself warming up to him that he wants more than ever to avoid him. While he had initially been sore with him for trying to “join the family” so soon after Kōji left, his anger fades into something more cautious and unsure the longer Jin lives with them. It's true that Kazuya misses his brother, yes, but he's also wary of change, and this stranger from America moving into his room represents the largest change that's occurred in his short eighteen years of life.
It also doesn't help that Jin's a very attractive American stranger. As much as he hates to admit it, he hasn't failed to notice how nicely Jin's waves of hair fall around his face, nor how expressive his brown eyes are. He even had the (mis)fortune of seeing him shirtless, not aware that Jin had just gotten out of the shower when he'd gone in to shave. Jin had just stood there and looked at him, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and toothpaste foam dribbling down his chin while Kazuya stammered out apologies and then tried to cover his embarrassment with a heated glare that probably hadn't fooled either of them. He'd said something to Jin about making sure he caught the right train to the campus of his university so he wouldn't have to look all over Tokyo for his sorry ass when he got lost, and then spent the entire walk to his high school mentally kicking himself for his stupidity.
He realizes that for someone who's supposedly trying his hardest to ignore Jin Akanishi, he's paying far too much attention to him. What also doesn't help is that Jin seems to be doing the same thing. For as unfriendly as Kazuya tries to be towards him, Jin seems to have a certain fascination towards him that he really doesn't understand, and it weirds him out to feel Jin's gaze flick in his direction at seemingly random moments. There never seems to be much emotion in his eyes beyond perhaps a shy curiosity, but he still doesn't know what to make of it. Only the thought that acknowledging that he's noticed might be more embarrassing stops him from calling Jin out on it, and instead he tries to ignore it, making a point of never looking in Jin's direction when he feels him looking at him. He has no idea, though, that it's about to get even harder for him to deny Jin's presence in his life.
~*~*~*~
Whether Kazuya's parents see their third-youngest son's lack of hospitality towards their guest as a disgrace to the Kamenashi name, or if they merely want to make the boys try to get along they never make clear, but after Jin's been with them for a few weeks, they start going out of their way to make sure Jin and Kazuya spend time together. They arrange a number of “family outings,” by which of course they mean host family to include Jin, and from which Kazuya finds out he is by no means excused. He argues that baseball playoffs will be starting soon, and it's imperative that he attend every practice, but they side-step that potential complication completely by arranging the events around Kazuya's baseball schedule. He's less than pleased.
They all go out for okonomiyaki, and Kazuya would like to feign illness or injury (a cold, the flu, a hangnail-anything), but it's to celebrate his father's birthday, so there's no way he can. The light tinkling of a bell above the door announces their entrance to the small restaurant, and they all bow as a waiter leads them to a low table in the corner. Jin shuffles in after Kazuya, folding his long legs awkwardly beneath him as everyone has to keep inching over until they all can fit. Kazuya would like to keep his distance, but it's impossible in such quarters, and he fidgets a little when Jin's sock-clad toes touch his calf.
Jin doesn't seem to notice, instead interestedly inspecting the various condiments on the table while his host parents order round after round of food off of the menu. Kazuya's forced to lean back so Yuya can engage Jin in a lively, giggle-filled conversation around him, and he realizes when the food and drinks come out that he's the only one who doesn't look like he's not having fun. If not for the strong resemblance between the Kamenashi boys and their father, it might appear to anyone looking at them seated around the table that Kazuya's the foreigner, rather than Jin.
A high-pitched shout, followed by a round of laughter pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Jin leaning over the grill, a paddle in each hand and his dark eyes full of determination as he tries to scoop up the first of the meat and cabbage pancakes to flip it over. He raises his arms in triumph and meets a small round of applause from around the table when he manages it. The corners of Kazuya's lips quirk upwards in a small smile, and he reaches for the paddles, wordlessly offering to flip the second okonomiyaki. Jin gives him a bit of a surprised look as he hands them over, but he doesn't question him, perhaps reading the look of a peace offering in Kazuya's eyes, and when the uncooked side of the meat, vegetable, and dough mixture hits the grill with a satisfying sizzle, he eyes it like he hasn't eaten in days.
As they eat, Kazuya's father and Jin take turns entertaining them with stories, everyone helpfully suggesting words and phrases when Jin doesn't know enough Japanese to express what he wants to say and has to fall back on hand gestures. His cheeks go pink and he glances down at his plate every time he stumbles, but his bright smile never leaves his face. As he uses a small spatula to scoop up bits of monjayaki, his expression full of childish wonder and glee when he manages to shape the goopy batter and bring it to his lips, Kazuya realizes the reason his cheeks hurt so much is because he hasn't stopped smiling, either.
After their meal, as they're all soothing their burnt mouths with spoonfuls of shaved ice, Kazuya's father surprises them all. Kazuya's spoon clatters against the rim of the glass dish when the patriarch of the Kamenashi family produces two tickets to the Yomiuri Giants' last game of the regular season, at home against their rival Hanshin Tigers.
“These are for you, Kazuya,” he starts, and the only thing preventing Kazuya from leaping over the table (hot grill be damned) to claim them is the look in his father's eyes that says there's a condition attached. Nevertheless, Kazuya feels his heart start to pound in his chest. What'll it be? Doing the whole family's laundry for a month? Going grocery shopping for his mother from now until he graduates? Whatever it is, he'll do it. Happily.
Kazuya's father's gaze shifts to Jin, and the exchange student's eyes widen, his kakigoori spoon dangling from his mouth in suspense. He's not the only one surprised by his sudden involvement in the conversation.
Kazuya's eyes dart quickly to Jin, but within seconds he focuses back on his father. “Yeah?” he asks, hoping his tone doesn't betray the nervousness that creeps over him when his father doesn't look away from Jin. “What's the catch?”
His father's smile confirms his answer before he says anything. “You have to take Jin with you.”
“Fine.” There's no hesitation in Kazuya's voice. He's too thrilled at being offered the chance to go that he doesn't care at all that he'll have to spend the day with Jin. In fact, his stomach full to bursting with delicious food puts him in such a good mood that he starts to think it might even be fun. That is, until he notices Jin tense slightly at his side.
“Thank you, but, um...to be honest, I don't really know much about baseball.”
~*~*~*~
4. Yoshihiro Ike--Seishun Bonba Hensoukyoku
As the first pleasantly brisk days of autumn start to replace the stagnant heat and humidity of late summer, they bring along with them the beginning of the fall festival season. Not long after the Kamenashi family celebrates the annual tradition of moon-viewing (by eating dumplings and trying to convince Jin that there's a rabbit in the moon instead of a man, and also that it's grinding mochi instead of eating cheese), Kazuya and Yuya's high school holds a small festival to honor the change of season. Having done the school festival circuit many times over when Yuichirō and Kōji were young, Kazuya's parents don't always make a point of going, but since this year they have Jin with them, they make an event out of it.
Yuya has to leave early to help his classmates set up their booth, but the rest of the family walks down to the school together, strolling at a leisurely pace to enjoy the cool twilight air and exchange pleasantries with the neighbors they meet along the way. In the soft grass of the schoolyard, they lay down a blanket and enjoy a bento picnic lovingly prepared by Kazuya's mother; in addition to the thin slices of fish over rice, the compartments of the boxes are filled with mushrooms, bits of carrot, squash, sweet potatoes, and other seasonally appropriate treats.
After their meal, they rise to peruse the stalls, and although they intend to walk up and down the rows together, Jin and Kazuya end up a bit farther ahead as Kazuya's parents spend more time at each stall than either boy wants to, browsing the wares and striking up conversations with the students running them. “Reliving their youth,” Kazuya comments dryly, to which Jin responds with a nervous laugh.
They're about halfway down the first line of vendors when Kazuya catches sight of the baseball field. He stops and scowls. The team's event for the festival is a friendly match against a team made up of school faculty members, and Kazuya had not been chosen to pitch because, if he had, his competitive streak would have made the game anything but friendly. Therefore, his presence had not been required, leaving him with the choice of either helping out his homeroom classmates with their booth or enjoying the festival solely as a spectator with his parents and Jin. Considering his class had voted to organize a school-wide, gender non-discriminate kissing booth, he'd found it to be a pretty easy choice.
His mother's gentle hand on his shoulder pulls his attention away from the field and his thoughts away from the potential for anyone in the school being allowed to kiss him for a measly 500 yen. “Hm?”
“Ne, Kazuya, why don't you help Jin decide what he wants for dessert?” She glances at where their guest is wandering slowly past the seemingly endless line of sweets booths, his eyes wide and curious as he takes in the suaré of delicious-looking seasonal fruits, candies, and pastries.
Kazuya narrows his eyes briefly, not at all ignorant to the attempt on his parents' part to get him to spend time with Jin, but he goes along with it anyway to humor them. When he catches up with him, he gestures to the rows of confections, telling him the name of each one. While he waits for Jin to make his choice, he gets some wagashi for his parents, a chocolate-covered banana for Yuya (who will join them once his shift at the haunted house is over), and some strawberry mochi for himself.
Jin ends up going with taiyaki because he says he thinks it's interesting that it looks like a fish. Eyeing it suspiciously as he turns it over in his hands, he looks to Kazuya and asks, “It doesn't really have fish in it, right?”
Preoccupied with balancing his sweets and his change, Kazuya gives him a look. “Uh...no. It's a dessert.”
Jin doesn't look convinced as he goes to take a bite. When he breaks through the pastry and gets a taste of the filling, one of the funniest expressions Kazuya thinks he's ever seen comes over Jin's face, and he doesn't try very hard to keep his amusement out of his voice at Jin's apparent misfortune. “Something wrong?”
With some effort, Jin swallows. “What's in this?”
“Um...sweetened red beans.”
From the look on Jin's face, it's clear he felt a little lurch of something akin to nausea upon hearing Kazuya's explanation. “What?” he cries, affronted. “Beans aren't supposed to be sweet! They're supposed to be used in, like...tacos and stuff. Ew. Do you want the rest?”
Kazuya glances down at the large amount of sweets he's already purchased, indicating that he has neither enough arms nor room in his stomach to take Jin's dessert, too. He tries to tell him thanks, but no thanks, but all that comes out is a surprised, protesting sound when Jin starts taking the other stuff out of his hands so he can give him the taiyaki. With a defeated sigh, he absentmindedly takes a bite, only to choke a little when the first thought to enter his mind after realizing he and Jin had bitten from the same part of the fish is kansetsu kissu. His cheeks flush bright pink as he coughs, and he tries to duck away from one of Jin's large hands heartily smacking between his shoulderblades.
There's a hint of triumph in the exchange student's voice when he says, “See? You don't like it, either!”
Kazuya doesn't dignify him with a response. In fact, he doesn't pay him (or the festival, for that matter) much attention for the rest of the night, because his thoughts are too inundated with the reason that the first thing that came to his mind when he'd eaten the taiyaki was that he and Jin had inadvertently shared an indirect kiss. It hadn't been that hard to figure out.
Fuck, I like him.
~*~*~*~
The following week, Jin and Kazuya go to the baseball game, which turns out to be a complete disaster, and not just because the Giants lose horrifically, bringing their championship run to an abrupt end and sending a packed stadium of disappointed fans home (or to the nearest bar) with slumped shoulders.
It starts off well, though. Kazuya's excitement proves contagious, and both he and Jin leave the house in agreeable moods. Jin humors Kazuya by pretending to listen to his babbling about how important the game they're going to is, going on about how the Giants are tied for first place with the Tigers atop the Central League standings, meaning whoever wins this final showdown between the two teams (coincidentally on the last day of the regular season) will go on to play the Saitama Seibu Lions for the championship. Jin understands very little of Kazuya's explanation, but he guesses from his elaborate hand gestures and how emphatically he speaks about it that this is a Very Big Deal, so he responds with polite nods and murmurs of, “Ah, is that so?” at appropriate moments, which makes the other so happy that he practically skips as they make their way into the train station.
One of Jin's trademark bright smiles lights up his face, and he's halfway through making a joke at Kazuya's expense when the ticket gate swings closed suddenly, sending Jin (who hasn't noticed) toppling over it, and he finds himself sitting on his ass on the tile with absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there.
Kazuya laughs himself silly, clapping his hands and stomping his feet until he nearly ends up on the floor himself while Jin struggles to collect himself. Grumbling in English under his breath, Jin retrieves his fallen Suica card, which had flown out of his hand during the fall, and limps back over, grudgingly asking his laughing-until-he-cried “host brother” why the gate hadn't let him through.
A quick trip to the fare adjustment window is enough to fix the card, but not to mend Jin's wounded pride. That slightly awkward moment should have served as an indicator for how the rest of the afternoon would go.
Normally one of the rare places in Tokyo where the desire for silence is universally respected, the train cars bound for Tokyo Dome echo with chants, cheers, songs, and the occasional hiss (directed at the few souls decked out in Hanshin yellow who had the misfortune of boarding a train filled with Giants fans). Kazuya jumps right in, singing along with every song and joining every chant like he's known them all his whole life. Jin stands beside him, wearing orange and black because Kazuya wouldn't let him leave the house in anything else; while Kazuya sings his heart out, it's all Jin can do to smile nervously at the people crammed in around him, many of them grown men wearing orange rabbit ear headbands, and try not to topple into them with the train lurches suddenly.
Kazuya and the others keep it up all the way to Tokyo Dome, and the roar of the excited spectators doesn't die down until they settle into their seats in the bleachers, waiting for the game to start. As they watch the ceremonial pitch take place (the honor given to Kimura Takuya himself, a celebrity whose face is plastered so prominently around Tokyo that even Jin recognizes him), Kazuya wistfully confides that if he can't ever make the team itself, he'd at least like to be able to do that. Just once would be enough, he says. He laughs a little to himself, then, and he makes a joke about the tortoise and the hare that Jin doesn't think he would have understood even if Kazuya had told it to him in English.
He thinks he gets it, though (at least, the headbands he'd seen on the train start to make sense) when a guy in an orange rabbit suit wearing a Giants jersey runs out onto the field, and the fans roar. The players follow suit, and a din of thundersticks and banging drums erupts from the seats, echoing around the stadium. Kazuya jumps up from his seat and cups his hands around his mouth to call to the outfielders, addressing them by name, but Jin doubts that the people sitting three rows in front of them can hear him, let alone the players all the way down on the field.
The racket doesn't fade until after the game starts. The fans have the decency to hold their noisemakers still when it's their team's turn up to bat, but they never stop singing, and it's an all-out free-for-all when the opponents step up to the plate. So while the noise travels back and forth between the sides of the stadium as the game progresses and the two teams regularly change sides, the roof of the dome amplifies every sound to a near-painful level regardless of where it comes from, which makes a headache start to pound at Jin's temples by the start of the fourth inning. While Kazuya focuses on what's going on on the field, talking smack with the old-timers seated around them and offering up an informed analysis of the Giants' performance, Jin starts paying attention to the concessions vendors (particularly the girls in the short skirts with the jugs of beer strapped over their shoulders) making their way up and down the aisles, trying to dull his pain and boredom with beer and snacks. But mostly beer.
The alcohol wreaks havoc on his mood. The first cup loosens his tongue. He's not the type to cope well with frustration, especially that caused by boredom and/or loud noises, so he can't help but feel satisfied when, after Kazuya gives an impassioned speech about how the Giants will prevail because they're the most alert, best-reacting team in baseball, Jin crushes his hopes and dreams by telling him that he just saw the third baseman pick his nose through the binoculars. His mood lifts a little, and a grin comes over his face in response to Kazuya glaring at him and not paying him any attention for the rest of the inning.
The second cup makes him happy and oddly contemplative. At one point, he looks up at the roof of the dome and thinks that if Tokyo Dome is nicknamed “The Big Egg,” the only creature he can think of that would be big enough to lay it would be Godzilla, which would make the Giants the biggest, baddest, fiercest team around. He taps Kazuya on the shoulder to share this with him, but the other just jumps a little at the prodding and turns the other way, no doubt still smarting from the nose-picking jab in the previous inning. That's all it takes to remind Jin why he started drinking in the first place, and his scowl returns. He flags down another beer girl.
By the time he finishes his third cup, the alcohol starts to affect him in a way that's noticeable to others. Forgetting his surroundings, he turns the binoculars on the crowd and starts shamelessly commenting on the size and shape of the breasts of the women seated around them. What few there are, anyway, considering the nature of the event. Even though he gives his “ratings” in English, he still manages to make it obvious what he's doing, and he gets more than a few odd looks for it. He gets Kazuya's attention when he stands (more like sways) to sing during the seventh inning stretch; his words come out slurred and giggly, and he has no idea if the rest of the crowd is singing in Japanese or English.
Kazuya looks at him, and then at the empty cups scattered at his feet. His facial expression shifts briefly from surprise to hurt, and then he just looks pissed off. He doesn't say a word to Jin for the rest of the game.
Trailing by two since the second inning, the Giants make it interesting in the bottom of the ninth by driving in a run to bring the deficit to one, and the whole stadium stands when a high fly ball with one man on base looks like it could go all the way, only to be caught by the Tigers left fielder at the warning track. It's the third out, meaning the game is over and the Giants won't be playing the Saitama Seibu Lions for the championship. Kazuya's not in a good mood when they leave the stadium.
Still feeling the effects of the beer, Jin sings an English song with filthy lyrics as he follows Kazuya out, delighting in the fact that he can sing as loudly as he wants and no one around him will understand exactly what private lady parts he's referring to. At one point, he looks over his shoulder at the receding Tokyo Dome, and he remembers the thought he had about Godzilla. He thinks he should try again to share it with Kazuya, but a surprisingly coherent part of his tipsy brain asks him how he would feel if he had just watched his beloved LA Galaxy fall short of a playoff berth, and he decides to save it for a time when the wound isn't so fresh. Like February, when, according to Yuya, the lack of activity in the Nippon Professional League, the American major league, and his own team makes Kazuya go through baseball withdrawal, and it gets so bad at times that no one but his teammates can stand to be around him.
He does, however, clap a hand on Kazuya's shoulder and advise him that he should drown himself in booze to numb the pain of the loss. He even offers to buy the beer for him, seeing that Kazuya is still underage. He thinks he's being supportive, so he doesn't understand why, instead of nodding agreement and showing a grateful smile, Kazuya simply lowers his head a bit more and shrugs the hand off his shoulder.
The monotony of the train ride home-the regular stops, opening and closing of the doors, and the shuffle of commuters on and off, does nothing to ease the awkward silence that falls between Jin and Kazuya. It is enough to sober Jin up a little, and by the time they exit the station at their stop, the full effect of the day starts to hit both of them. What had started out as an outing arranged by Kazuya's parents to help them bond ends with them feeling like they have absolutely nothing in common. They share a long look of mutual hopelessness and misunderstanding before starting off down the street, doing nothing at all that would make it appear that they're going to the same place.
A few hours after getting home from the baseball game, Jin gets a call from one of the friends he's made at his university, asking if he'd like to join a group heading out to check out the clubbing scene in Roppongi. He accepts. After that night, Kazuya sees very little of Jin for the next month, and he's not at all sure how he feels about that.
Part 2