[LONGFIC] SOME KIND OF MATES 03
Fandom: Tumbling
Characters: Mizusawa and Kiyama and sometimes other people
Rating: T
Genre: Slice-of-Life, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Post-series. "Live with me!" he said. It seemed like a good idea at the time. No, that's a lie. He really wasn't thinking at all. Mizusawa and Kiyama... centric.
( motome )
The Stupid Question
That second Saturday in March was one Mizusawa had circled in his calendar in a bright blue marker.
Most of his friends had received letters of acceptance from their schools of choice, himself included. Despite all the scary moments and close calls, all nine members of the tumbling team had survived the year, and six of them were graduating. So Mizusawa's favorite people in the world were throwing a party at the restaurant Kamome.
Good news, good company, good food. There wasn't a damn thing that could get him down that day.
Not even... that one development.
It was well after dark when all the boys left Azuma's place. The eight splintered off as they headed home. For the first time, he found himself with the tallest, most imposing member of the gymnastics club. At one point, Mizusawa figured that the prospect of walking home with Kiyama was a fate worse than death itself. But now... after having a great day like he did, he could take on the world.
Pffft. Kiyama was nothing.
It only took a few paces for Mizusawa to get restless.
He was still buzzing with energy from the party and dying to say something to the taller boy. As usual, Kiyama wasn't volunteering anything. Mizusawa wondered if it was possible that it was Kiyama was the one feeling awkward for once. It was a funny thought... Yet it wasn't any big secret that he never excelled that much with social skills. And that was all the more reason for Mizusawa to find something to say, right?
Hmm. Well, Kiyama didn't seem the type to tolerate smalltalk, so Mizusawa found himself fishing for relevant topics to discuss. The first one he came up with seemed pretty obvious.
"You never walk this way!"
"I'm going straight home tonight."
"Ah..." Mizusawa's mouth hung upon as he tried to combine all those times he'd seen Kiyama in the neighborhood, mostly after get-togethers at Kamome and the Tsuchiya family bath house. After a few moments of thought, he realized he still had no idea where the taller boy lived.
Kiyama seemed to pick up on the need for an explanation. "I usually stop by the convenience store afterwards."
"For what?"
"Things."
"...oh."
Mizusawa narrowed his eyes at the taller boy, who didn't seemed fazed at all by the fact that he had killed a perfectly good conversation.
That annoyed Mizusawa, but made him just that much more determined. Even after the yankee had joined the team and the awkwardness between them had begun to dissipated, Mizusawa hadn't had a successful conversation with him. It was a week before graduation, and though they were once again slated to have the same alma mater, there was a possibility that he'd never get the chance to talk to him like this ever again.
This was it.
New topic! He hadn't been alone with Kiyama since the day of the entrance exams, and hadn't talked to him - or anyone - about their postsecondary coincidence. It was something that had crossed his mind often, though he usually tucked it way. It was a coincidence, after all. Nothing more.
Kiyama had this gaze that might as well been laser beams, and he felt the side of his face tingle and burn.
"Y'know what's funny?"
The taller boy looked to Mizusawa, a curious look on his face.
"We're going to the same school next year! Don't you find that funny?"
While Mizusawa erupted in laughter, much like he'd heard the funniest thing ever, Kiyama just chuckled. His was a short and dry laugh. Whether it was sincere or sardonic, Mizusawa didn't know, nor if he should take it as a good or bad thing. But is was something. As he own giggles stopped, he found himself afraid he'd lose that something soon... so he had to find something to keep this going with.
Something good.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if we, like, lived together?"
Okay... that was the first thing that popped into his mind, not good. Oh well, he'd roll with it.
Mizusawa jogged a little ahead of the other boy, and turned around with a raised hand, halting him.
"Ryuuichirou Kiyama." It was the first time he'd said the boy's name out loud like that. Any other time, it would have embarrassed him, but in that moment he found it remarkably empowering. "Kiyama!" he shouted again, and pointed a finger at the taller boy's confused face.
He took a deep breath, and let it go.
"Live with me!"
The was a when the only sound was a barking dog somewhere in the distance. Kiyama stared at the boy in front of him, his face frozen, eyes wide, mouth agape. With every millisecond that passed, Mizusawa felt his confidence leaving him, and for the first time that day, he felt bad. Nervous. How he always felt.
That was when Kiyama looked away, and said it.
"Okay."
"...what?"
"Okay."
The taller boy shifted the bag he had slung over his shoulder and shrugged.
Mizusawa's smile had contorted into one of disgust, though that wasn't really how he was feeling at the moment. He honestly didn't know what he felt like. He didn't know how to deal with that answer. He hadn't expected it... but it really wasn't like he had the foresight to expect anything. He clasped his hands over his mouth, contemplating the mortal sin he'd just committed...
But Kiyama spoke again.
"We already know each other. I trust you, and I can respect you as a roommate. I believe you'd do the same for me. Living in a dorm is expensive, and this way I don't have to go through the trouble of searching for a roommate."
Mizusawa blinked, Kiyama's usual matter-of-fact tone coming across as a bit too normal for the boy, especially given the context. No, in this instance, what was too little was too much. But only then would Kiyama deliver the finishing blow...
He took a few steps, stopping beside Mizusawa. This time, it was the latter looked to his friend with the large eyes and the open mouth... But Kiyama arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly, as if he were convinced that the thing he was about to say were nothing less than absolute truth.
"It'll be convenient, right?"
The corner of Kiyama's lips turned up, in something that didn't quite look like a smile as he starting walking away again. Mizusawa watched helplessly as he watched the former yankee stroll ahead of him. It was only then that he started putting together what had just happened. And.. he'd failed at another conversation.
You couldn't call that a success, right?
Mizusawa laughed again, more loudly than he meant to. It came out sounding like sobs.
Mizusawa had been sitting there for a long time before he heard the door creak open.
"I'm home..."
A short, slightly stout woman shuffled into the kitchen, both hands full of department store bags. She wasn't that old, but her face was creased could see the lines from when she smiled too much and she cried too much. Raising the boy forlornly sitting at the table... it had taken her for a few rides, though she figured no more than the average mother.
She set her the bags by the door, and looked over the room. "Taku? Dear, what's wrong?"
The woman looked over the room to see a pair of teacups and a couple of crumb-laden plates by the sink. Her eyes returned to the table, and she noticed that in front of the boy was an open file folder with papers spilling out the side. She cradled her head in a hand and groaned. She'd managed to completely forget in her weekend search for bargains...
"Sorry Taku, this completely slipped my mind! I must have missed... Kiriyama-kun?"
"Kiyama," the boy corrected, not looking up.
The woman's thin lips pressed into an 'O', and she pulled out a chair at the table across from her son. Mizusawa pushed the folder towards her, and the woman eagerly accepted it.
Her eyes darted between the printout of a floor plan lying on the table and the photographs she'd shifted through. "Wow, this is nice. Really nice."
"I know."
Mizusawa's mother didn't notice the edge of bitterness that colored her's son's voice. She was too busy arranging the photos in a neat stack on, and moving on to the next thing in the file; a several official looking pages stapled together. She reached into her bag her to retrieve a pair of reading glasses.
After a few minutes, she removed the glasses and looked to her son again.
"And... it's a steal!"
"I know."
Mizusawa knew. He knew the place was a little too perfect. He knew how lucky he was when Kiyama had mentioned something about "a friend of a friend", or something like that, being able to pull some strings. After looking at the pictures and the number that would be his rent, he knew.
That's why he fell in love again that afternoon with a cozy little two-bed, one-bath hole in the wall he'd never set foot in.
And again, he hated himself for it. He regretted asking Kiyama that stupid question in the first place, and he regretted that he hadn't the guts to walk up to him in those last days of school and tell him that he'd been kidding. He couldn't shake the feeling that - like his crush on the other boy - he was out of his mind to even consider it, and it would do nothing but cause him a lot of worry and embarrassment and grief in the end.
"Congratulations, Taku!" Before he knew it, his mother leapt out of her chair and buried his head in her bosom. He didn't bother protesting. There was no possible way his voice would cut through her shrill cries about not believing how her son was growing up and things like that.
"Kaa-san..."
Both mother and son cried in each other's arms, for wildly different reasons.
Taku Mizusawa would call his friend about signing the lease by the end of the day.
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Characters: Mizusawa and Kiyama and sometimes other people
Rating: T
Genre: Slice-of-Life, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Post-series. "Live with me!" he said. It seemed like a good idea at the time. No, that's a lie. He really wasn't thinking at all. Mizusawa and Kiyama... centric.
( motome )
The Stupid Question
That second Saturday in March was one Mizusawa had circled in his calendar in a bright blue marker.
Most of his friends had received letters of acceptance from their schools of choice, himself included. Despite all the scary moments and close calls, all nine members of the tumbling team had survived the year, and six of them were graduating. So Mizusawa's favorite people in the world were throwing a party at the restaurant Kamome.
Good news, good company, good food. There wasn't a damn thing that could get him down that day.
Not even... that one development.
It was well after dark when all the boys left Azuma's place. The eight splintered off as they headed home. For the first time, he found himself with the tallest, most imposing member of the gymnastics club. At one point, Mizusawa figured that the prospect of walking home with Kiyama was a fate worse than death itself. But now... after having a great day like he did, he could take on the world.
Pffft. Kiyama was nothing.
It only took a few paces for Mizusawa to get restless.
He was still buzzing with energy from the party and dying to say something to the taller boy. As usual, Kiyama wasn't volunteering anything. Mizusawa wondered if it was possible that it was Kiyama was the one feeling awkward for once. It was a funny thought... Yet it wasn't any big secret that he never excelled that much with social skills. And that was all the more reason for Mizusawa to find something to say, right?
Hmm. Well, Kiyama didn't seem the type to tolerate smalltalk, so Mizusawa found himself fishing for relevant topics to discuss. The first one he came up with seemed pretty obvious.
"You never walk this way!"
"I'm going straight home tonight."
"Ah..." Mizusawa's mouth hung upon as he tried to combine all those times he'd seen Kiyama in the neighborhood, mostly after get-togethers at Kamome and the Tsuchiya family bath house. After a few moments of thought, he realized he still had no idea where the taller boy lived.
Kiyama seemed to pick up on the need for an explanation. "I usually stop by the convenience store afterwards."
"For what?"
"Things."
"...oh."
Mizusawa narrowed his eyes at the taller boy, who didn't seemed fazed at all by the fact that he had killed a perfectly good conversation.
That annoyed Mizusawa, but made him just that much more determined. Even after the yankee had joined the team and the awkwardness between them had begun to dissipated, Mizusawa hadn't had a successful conversation with him. It was a week before graduation, and though they were once again slated to have the same alma mater, there was a possibility that he'd never get the chance to talk to him like this ever again.
This was it.
New topic! He hadn't been alone with Kiyama since the day of the entrance exams, and hadn't talked to him - or anyone - about their postsecondary coincidence. It was something that had crossed his mind often, though he usually tucked it way. It was a coincidence, after all. Nothing more.
Kiyama had this gaze that might as well been laser beams, and he felt the side of his face tingle and burn.
"Y'know what's funny?"
The taller boy looked to Mizusawa, a curious look on his face.
"We're going to the same school next year! Don't you find that funny?"
While Mizusawa erupted in laughter, much like he'd heard the funniest thing ever, Kiyama just chuckled. His was a short and dry laugh. Whether it was sincere or sardonic, Mizusawa didn't know, nor if he should take it as a good or bad thing. But is was something. As he own giggles stopped, he found himself afraid he'd lose that something soon... so he had to find something to keep this going with.
Something good.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if we, like, lived together?"
Okay... that was the first thing that popped into his mind, not good. Oh well, he'd roll with it.
Mizusawa jogged a little ahead of the other boy, and turned around with a raised hand, halting him.
"Ryuuichirou Kiyama." It was the first time he'd said the boy's name out loud like that. Any other time, it would have embarrassed him, but in that moment he found it remarkably empowering. "Kiyama!" he shouted again, and pointed a finger at the taller boy's confused face.
He took a deep breath, and let it go.
"Live with me!"
The was a when the only sound was a barking dog somewhere in the distance. Kiyama stared at the boy in front of him, his face frozen, eyes wide, mouth agape. With every millisecond that passed, Mizusawa felt his confidence leaving him, and for the first time that day, he felt bad. Nervous. How he always felt.
That was when Kiyama looked away, and said it.
"Okay."
"...what?"
"Okay."
The taller boy shifted the bag he had slung over his shoulder and shrugged.
Mizusawa's smile had contorted into one of disgust, though that wasn't really how he was feeling at the moment. He honestly didn't know what he felt like. He didn't know how to deal with that answer. He hadn't expected it... but it really wasn't like he had the foresight to expect anything. He clasped his hands over his mouth, contemplating the mortal sin he'd just committed...
But Kiyama spoke again.
"We already know each other. I trust you, and I can respect you as a roommate. I believe you'd do the same for me. Living in a dorm is expensive, and this way I don't have to go through the trouble of searching for a roommate."
Mizusawa blinked, Kiyama's usual matter-of-fact tone coming across as a bit too normal for the boy, especially given the context. No, in this instance, what was too little was too much. But only then would Kiyama deliver the finishing blow...
He took a few steps, stopping beside Mizusawa. This time, it was the latter looked to his friend with the large eyes and the open mouth... But Kiyama arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly, as if he were convinced that the thing he was about to say were nothing less than absolute truth.
"It'll be convenient, right?"
The corner of Kiyama's lips turned up, in something that didn't quite look like a smile as he starting walking away again. Mizusawa watched helplessly as he watched the former yankee stroll ahead of him. It was only then that he started putting together what had just happened. And.. he'd failed at another conversation.
You couldn't call that a success, right?
Mizusawa laughed again, more loudly than he meant to. It came out sounding like sobs.
Mizusawa had been sitting there for a long time before he heard the door creak open.
"I'm home..."
A short, slightly stout woman shuffled into the kitchen, both hands full of department store bags. She wasn't that old, but her face was creased could see the lines from when she smiled too much and she cried too much. Raising the boy forlornly sitting at the table... it had taken her for a few rides, though she figured no more than the average mother.
She set her the bags by the door, and looked over the room. "Taku? Dear, what's wrong?"
The woman looked over the room to see a pair of teacups and a couple of crumb-laden plates by the sink. Her eyes returned to the table, and she noticed that in front of the boy was an open file folder with papers spilling out the side. She cradled her head in a hand and groaned. She'd managed to completely forget in her weekend search for bargains...
"Sorry Taku, this completely slipped my mind! I must have missed... Kiriyama-kun?"
"Kiyama," the boy corrected, not looking up.
The woman's thin lips pressed into an 'O', and she pulled out a chair at the table across from her son. Mizusawa pushed the folder towards her, and the woman eagerly accepted it.
Her eyes darted between the printout of a floor plan lying on the table and the photographs she'd shifted through. "Wow, this is nice. Really nice."
"I know."
Mizusawa's mother didn't notice the edge of bitterness that colored her's son's voice. She was too busy arranging the photos in a neat stack on, and moving on to the next thing in the file; a several official looking pages stapled together. She reached into her bag her to retrieve a pair of reading glasses.
After a few minutes, she removed the glasses and looked to her son again.
"And... it's a steal!"
"I know."
Mizusawa knew. He knew the place was a little too perfect. He knew how lucky he was when Kiyama had mentioned something about "a friend of a friend", or something like that, being able to pull some strings. After looking at the pictures and the number that would be his rent, he knew.
That's why he fell in love again that afternoon with a cozy little two-bed, one-bath hole in the wall he'd never set foot in.
And again, he hated himself for it. He regretted asking Kiyama that stupid question in the first place, and he regretted that he hadn't the guts to walk up to him in those last days of school and tell him that he'd been kidding. He couldn't shake the feeling that - like his crush on the other boy - he was out of his mind to even consider it, and it would do nothing but cause him a lot of worry and embarrassment and grief in the end.
"Congratulations, Taku!" Before he knew it, his mother leapt out of her chair and buried his head in her bosom. He didn't bother protesting. There was no possible way his voice would cut through her shrill cries about not believing how her son was growing up and things like that.
"Kaa-san..."
Both mother and son cried in each other's arms, for wildly different reasons.
Taku Mizusawa would call his friend about signing the lease by the end of the day.
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