Fic: Meet Me in the Morning (Part II)

[redpocket]

“So where are you off to today?” Sengoku smiled, leaning across the counter as he slid across a slip of paper.

Oshitari smiled slightly. The first weekend of October and he was taking the opportunity to spend his Saturday night out. He knew he shouldn’t expect much if he stayed in the local area, but he’d seen a couple of decent bars around that might suffice for what he wanted.

He wasn’t looking to spend the evening by himself, at any rate. He just wanted company which wasn’t an instructor leaning over his shoulder at the tactics set, or someone repositioning his feet and his shoulders at the range.

“Out,” he answered vaguely. “I was thinking of shopping this afternoon then hitting a bar or two tonight.”

“Nice,” Sengoku whistled and then leaned in conspiratorially. “You want company?”

Oshitari let a smile creep across his face. “Are you offering to join me?” he murmured.

But Sengoku only chuckled and stepped back quickly, fetching a folder from the shelf and flipping it open to show Oshitari the top page. “Not me, per se, but perhaps...?”

He pointed his finger to the paper. A leave form for Shishido Ryou, timed 3:13 PM.

Oshitari flicked his watch on his wrist. 3:18.

“He went out?” he asked.

“That’s what it says,” Sengoku teased. “He said he was going shopping too. Maybe if you run, you can catch up to him.”

Oshitari scribbled out the rest of his form, noting Sengoku’s grin.

“I see I’m not your top priority then,” he mused aloud. “Well, let me know if you still want company anytime, otherwise have fun with Shishido. You could do him a favour and put a smile on his face, Oshitari.”

+

There was only one road which led from the front gates of the academy, and the front gates were the only ones available to cadets leaving on the weekends. So as Oshitari jogged along past the vehicle checkpoint and then through the gates (not without a salute to the officers there - they lifted their coffee mugs back), he thought he saw Shishido ahead of him on the road.

Familiarly angled shoulders, tall, lean figure and then, as Oshitari hung back and watched, he turned, glaring over his shoulder.

“So are you just going to follow me or what?”

Oshitari smirked, not in the least bit surprised that Shishido had noticed him. “Clearly I’m not much in the way of a good stalker, but I thought you’d like some company.” He caught up to Shishido and stood beside him.

“Sengoku said you were going shopping this afternoon,” he explained.

“He lied,” Shishido replied instantly, starting walking again, hands pushed into his pockets. “I’m going to see my mother in the hospital. Did he tell you about that already? He’s got a pretty big mouth, that guy.”

Oshitari cursed under his breath. Fucking Sengoku. What was he up to anyway? The minute Oshitari thought he had him worked out, he went and did something weird and he had no idea anymore.

“He did,” he admitted. “The night we checked in and you weren’t here yet.”

Shishido nodded. “So what’d he tell you? About the accident, or...?”

“Accident?” Oshitari swallowed. “No, he just told me about... Just that she was in a serious condition.”

Shishido frowned. “Close enough,” he said dryly. “Stable condition, serious problem though. No one expects her to recover.”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” Oshitari frowned, unable to say anything else. It seemed almost inadequate that all he had were words, yet he could see even now, just how hard it was for Shishido to say anything about it at all.

He never had taken Oshitari up on his offer of talking, and he’d clammed up every time Oshitari even tried to broach personal subjects. That he was talking so frankly now both made Oshitari squirm to see his discomfort, and yet... it also gave him a tiny little fraction of hope.

Shishido didn’t dislike him as much as he’d thought.

“Should I come with you?” he offered.

Shishido only shrugged in response, but let Oshitari accompany him as far as the waiting room of the hospital.

“You should wait out here, unless you’ll get bored. I’ll be back in an hour otherwise.”

Oshitari nodded and took a seat, staring after Shishido until he disappeared down the hallway.

But it wasn’t five minutes later when a nurse came down to see him, wavering in front of him for a moment before asking his name.

“Oshitari Yuushi,” he answered, a little rattled. “Is there a problem?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. If you wouldn’t mind coming with me though... One of the patients would like to see you.”

+

Shishido scowled a little as the nurse approached. He was standing outside the door, against the wall and he pushed himself away from it once Oshitari was within reaching distance.

“My mother wants to see you,” he said, as darkly as if he were talking about a serious issue.

Oshitari smiled. “Oh? So you’ve been telling her about me?” he teased.

“Have not,” Shishido retorted. “If I’d been telling her about you, she wouldn’t want to see your lame-arse self ever.”

“Harsh,” Oshitari sighed.

“Don’t say anything weird,” Shishido warned, poking a finger between Oshitari’s eyes. “I’m warning you.”

“What on earth could I say?” Oshitari sighed, raising his hand to tap Shishido’s cheek before he could stop himself. “Even if I did, mothers never believe anything bad about their children.” Except his own mother, of course.

Shishido slapped his hand away quickly and turned the door handle, giving Oshitari one last warning look.

“So you’re Ryou’s friend, are you?” His mother smiled when Oshitari walked in. She had trouble leaning forwards, propped up against the pillows as she was, but she held out her hand.

“I am. I’m Oshitari Yuushi.” Oshitari smiled and reached out his hand to shake hers, but at the last minute, changed his mind and kissed it instead, getting a laugh in response.

“How charming you are! Ryou told me about you, so it’s good to finally meet you, Oshitari.”

He couldn’t remember the time those words had given him quite so many butterflies in the stomach as they did then.

Shishido just grunted and crossed his arms, making sure to look away so he didn’t meet Oshitari’s eyes when he turned to look at him. But Oshitari thought he saw a blush on Shishido’s face nevertheless.

He really was strangely transparent, when it came down to it, Oshitari realised with a jolt.

+

“Hm? No shopping?” Sengoku enquired, fully leaning over the counter.

Oshitari wondered if he ever got excessively bored hanging about in that little office. “No. Shishido never had any intention of going shopping,” he frowned, excepting the small florist they’d stopped by on the way to the hospital.

“You liar, you,” he frowned and rolled his eyes at Sengoku.

Knowing exactly what he was talking about, Sengoku chuckled. “So you had a good time in the waiting room then? Find anything to do to pass the time? A nurse perhaps?”

Oshitari ignored him. “You really want to know? I met his mother and she blessed our relationship, gave me kisses on the forehead and asked me to take care of him as best I could, even if he’s a difficult boy to live with,” he declared, deadpanned. And at Sengoku’s look of disbelief, he added: “And she wants daughters. I told her we’d try our hardest, but I can’t promise anything with those skinny, non-child-bearing hips of Shishido’s.”

Sengoku snorted, and Shishido, walking in with bright pink cheeks and ears, whacked Oshitari over the head.

“What are you talking about? Fool.”

“Only fools fall in love,” Sengoku quipped, entirely too amused.

Oshitari frowned at him. “Why would you say that? I’m not...”

He felt the words die on his lips, and turned away as Sengoku merely gave him a smile.

“I’m not,” he insisted obstinately, good mood entirely evaporated as he tentatively followed Shishido back up to their room.

And then he wondered exactly why he was objecting so strongly. Sengoku was just joking in the same way he had been - that’s all it was. A little fun and games because there was nothing else to do out here and Shishido happened to be fun to tease. There was nothing else to it, because despite the occasional response, Shishido certainly didn’t seem to pay any more attention to him than he did to the carpet.

+

“Where are you going?” Oshitari asked, when Shishido kicked open the door at ten to nine. It was Wednesday night. “Curfew’s up soon,” he pointed out.

Shishido shrugged. “Going for a walk,” he answered, a thin jumper slung over his arm. October was nearly up, and with it, the heat of the nights was disappearing.

Oshitari set his book aside. “Do you want company?”

There was a quick shake of the head and Shishido stepped out and pulled the door closed behind himself.

He’d been slipping out like that more and more in the past two weeks, and Oshitari wasn’t sure where he went at night. All he knew was that Ooishi seemed to know, because when Oshitari had passed by him in the hall, he’d asked. Ooishi had gotten that slightly worried look on his face and told him he couldn’t say anything - to try asking Shishido himself.

But when had Shishido and Ooishi gotten so close anyway? They spent a lot of time talking outside at night, and yet Oshitari was Shishido’s roommate and he still didn’t know even the most basic things about the guy.

Why he couldn’t ever stack his magazines and had to drop them on the floor instead, for example.

+

“You’re following him?”

Oshitari practically jumped out of his skin, hidden around the corner and banging into the wall as he did so.

Kaidou stood in front of him, frowning slightly.

“I just wanted to know what he was doing,” Oshitari stated, straightening up and dusting himself off.

“You could have just asked him,” Kaidou pointed out.

“Yes, well,” Oshitari sighed, and poked at one of his cuticles. He really had to do something about them this weekend - one of the nail salons might be able to give him a manicure, though whether he could trust them with his fingernails or not was another story.

But Kaidou didn’t seem discouraged by his silence, and simply hissed a little, looking away.

“He goes to see Atobe Keigo,” he said quietly, even as Oshitari moved away from the wall, eyes following Shishido as he walked straight across the courtyard.

“Who?” he asked quickly, walking towards the door, past Sengoku’s office.

“I don’t know what his rank is, but he’s taking over as our tactics instructor from next week on,” Kaidou informed him. “I heard it from Kamio.”

“Mm hmm,” Oshitari responded, wavering at the door until Shishido had disappeared into the building opposite. Then he opened the door and dashed out of it, following the same line Shishido had taken to find himself at what seemed to be a side door - unlocked, as if just for this purpose.

He didn’t give a second thought as to what Kaidou thought of his behaviour - Oshitari trusted him to keep his thoughts to himself, unlike someone like Shinji or Momo - and simply wondered instead where the door led to, and whether, if he opened it, he’d find Shishido directly on the other side of it.

It took him a moment to gather himself, but creeping around out here, he was fully visible to anyone looking from the dormitory building anyway, so he pulled the handle, and with a creak, the door opened and he stepped into the bright white light of the hallway. Apparently this was an emergency exit.

‘Keep door closed in case of fire’, he read, above the large metal bar running across it, and he snorted at the irony. It seemed to be more of an emergency entry, at any rate.

Atobe Keigo was the name Kaidou had said, and though Oshitari hadn’t ever heard the name before, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly who it belonged to.

+

The two voices inside the room were muffled, so much so that Oshitari had no idea what they were talking about, but they most definitely belonged to the man Oshitari had seen and talked to one night, and the other to Shishido. It had taken him a few minutes to find Atobe’s office; it was the one with a laminated piece of paper stuck covering the normal name plate on the door.

Shishido’s was unmistakeable, but he sounded a lot more talkative than usual, and Atobe’s? He was keeping his voice low, and Oshitari had trouble even telling when he was talking and when there was silence, which only made him more desperate to find out. The only problem was his position, up against the wall, ear next to the tiny gap between door and frame. He was right within view should anyone walk out of any of the other offices here, and there was nowhere for him to duck into except under the stairway opposite... which was probably full of cobwebs and spiders. But it was impossible for him to step away from the door; he was glued to the spot where he was, barely breathing in an effort to be as quiet as possible.

Above his head, the fluorescent lights hummed and flickered, and he could hear the occasional cricket outside. A check of his watch revealed Shishido had already been in the room for more than twenty minutes, and Oshitari wondered if he should just leave. He had to be back in the dorm before Shishido, or he might suspect something was up. Lately he’d been coming back closer and closer to curfew time though, so perhaps Oshitari still had another half hour up his sleeve.

But as he stood there and pondered the conundrum, there was a click, and a squeak, and all of a sudden, the door next to him swung inwards, and Atobe Keigo stepped out.

“It’s about time you came in, don’t you think?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed, Oshitari thought. “It’s rude to lurk about at the door like that. One would almost wonder if you’d been... eavesdropping.”

“No, I...”

“You’ve been there ever since Shishido came in,” Atobe cut him off sternly. “You might as well at least come in and tell me what you’ve been standing around for.”

And this time, Oshitari straightened up, eyes running over Atobe’s shoulder and over his badges and decorations. “Yes, sir.”

Atobe nodded in satisfaction and pulled him inside quickly, closing the door.

“Where’s... Where’s Shishido?” Oshitari asked, spinning around on the spot yet not seeing anyone - bookshelves and books, and a whole lot of mess, as though Atobe were in the middle of moving out of his office, but Shishido wasn’t here.

“There are two doors to this office for the simple reason that this room was once two,” Atobe said easily, before Oshitari stopped and looked properly. There seemed to have been a wall at one time dividing this room in half. “If you’d stood in the hallway a second longer, I’m sure he’d have walked straight past you,” Atobe added, and then gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Oshitari sat down, not liking the way Atobe moved in front of him to lean back against the edge of his desk.

“So why was Shishido here?” he demanded, getting a chuckle out of Atobe.

“You’re rather direct, aren’t you?” he said, lifting an eyebrow a little. “It’s rather more usual to feign at least a little interest in your conversation partner first, isn’t it? Haven’t you learnt anything yet in your negotiation lessons? A little interest in someone goes a long way.”

Oshitari kept the frown from his face, staring evenly at Atobe as he took in his words. “I never said I wasn’t interested; I was merely asking you a question to which you have the answer. I assumed you’d want to keep this brief, since you’d have things to attend to... and I have a curfew.”

Atobe’s lips turned up slightly at the edges. “Well, there’s brief, and then there’s brief, and I don’t know about you, but I seriously lack a good conversation when I’m here,” he drawled. “That’s what Shishido comes here for, you realise.”

“A conversation?” Oshitari repeated, frowning this time.

“He comes to talk to me,” Atobe clarified, looking down at Oshitari. “Of course, that’s not what he’ll tell you if you ask. He comes with the excuse of reading the books on my shelves, and asking me about various... course-related things.”

Oshitari looked around, noting the cardboard boxes full of books on the floor. “But... Are you leaving?” he questioned. “Why the packing boxes?”

Atobe chuckled. “This isn’t my usual position. I just arrived here after this training course started.”

“So what is your position?” Oshitari questioned, sitting back in his chair. He watched as Atobe took a sip from the white, blue-emblem mug on his desk.

“Supposedly the head of police cadet training here,” Atobe answered dryly, “though I have the distinct impression I’m much less a thinking head rather than a figurehead. It’s not my usual job, of course. This is something of a temporary measure.”

Oshitari blinked, a little lost by his vague description. “So you’re saying you’re just here for show?” he sighed. “I’ll admit you’re a pretty head, but I always had the impression the police were a little more efficient than to simply appoint someone for that sort of thing.”

Atobe snorted. “Of course. I merely meant that my supposed underlings have more power than I do. You could call my current position a punishment of sorts.”

His brows creased in thought as he glanced towards the windows. Then he moved towards one of the bookshelves, flicking fingers across the spines of some training handbooks Oshitari recognised.

“Disciplinary punishment,” he added, before Oshitari could ask. “I came through here myself five years ago. One suspects the big guy thought it would be a reminder to me as to how I was supposed to be behaving, but I think it will be a temporary thing until he gets his head straight and realises they can’t do without me at headquarters.”

“Ah,” Oshitari relaxed a little. So that was why he behaved like this - he didn’t want to be here either. “So what did you do that was so bad that they shoved you out to the middle of nowhere?”

Atobe looked at him sharply. “That’s not something I’m willing to disclose.”

Oshitari let out a breath he’d been holding in. “Well in that case,” he sighed, and hoisted himself up from his comfortable seat.

“Leaving so soon?” Atobe all but drawled, and Oshitari froze.

“I don’t see why I should stay,” he answered evenly. But it was a lie, and he knew it the instant he saw Atobe chuckle in amusement. The look on his face, the confident strides he took back towards Oshitari, and the way his eyes never wavered from Oshitari’s were enough to pin him to the spot, sensations of desire just beginning to run through his lower body. And suddenly, Oshitari thought he might know exactly what sort of behaviour had gotten Atobe posted out here in the first place.

“Now,” he murmured softly. “Oshitari Yuushi.”

“Wait... How do you...?” Oshitari protested lightly, falling back into the chair again.

For a split second, the thought of Shishido crossed his mind; imagining Shishido in here talking with Atobe...about him. It was exciting to him, somehow, to think of the other man talking about him, thinking of him; somehow thrilling to think he might occupy some part of Shishido’s consciousness.

“Oh, your name?” Atobe smirked. “Well, you see, the first thing I had to do when I arrived here was to read through every single one of those horrid personal files, and since I had nothing better to do, I decided I’d pay particular attention to a few of them.” Then he paused, looking serious for a second. “I don’t know why they still insist people have to cut their hair off. It’s really quite stupid. I’m not sure it improves the pass rate at all.”

Oshitari snorted. “Well why don’t you do something about that then?”

Atobe arched an eyebrow. “Well, I had to go through the same torture myself. I don’t see much point sparing anyone else from it.”

Oshitari nearly smiled at that. Instead, he settled for a “Well, that’s rather unkind of you.”

“Should I be kind?” Atobe demanded, eyeing Oshitari with a little archness. “You’re lucky I don’t increase the number of marching practices just to keep some of those idiots in line,” he frowned. “Including you.”

Oshitari winced.

“At any rate,” Atobe stepped back, tilting his head towards the clock on the wall. “You’re due back at the dormitory, are you not? Sengoku won’t let you off lightly if you’re late back.”

Oshitari didn’t have long enough to wonder at the somehow sanitary turn of events, or at the funny look suddenly on Atobe’s face, as the door behind him opened and someone walked in.

“Sorry, Atobe... I forgot my...”

Oshitari spun around and blinked. “Shishido?”

Shishido looked shocked for a minute. Then he ducked his head, a scowl on his face. But it wasn’t angry somehow; it was hurt, as though Oshitari had kicked him.

“What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that Oshitari even realised it was he who had spoken them, and not Atobe.

“Why? Was I interrupting something?” Shishido asked back.

Oshitari’s chest tightened at the strain in his voice, and he felt flooded with guilt suddenly, and so surprisingly that he simply stood still on the spot until Atobe broke the silence by tossing Shishido’s jacket towards him.

+

“So what were you doing in there?” Shishido frowned, muttering the words almost as though he didn’t want the question answered. “I thought it was weird you weren’t in the room, but I asked Kaidou and he said you’d gone for a walk.”

“I did,” Oshitari answered. “As you can see.”

Annoyance flickered over Shishido’s face, his hands curling up into fists at his sides. “You were following me,” he growled, staring stubbornly ahead. “Weren’t you, Oshitari? How long have you been following me?”

“That was the first time!” Oshitari answered, frowning at Shishido. “It was; you can ask Atobe.”

“And why were you talking with him?” Shishido questioned, as though ignoring the answer now that he had it. “Why did you go to see him like that? Were you talking about me?”

“You really think you make that interesting a conversation topic?” Oshitari frowned. He could feel himself on the verge of snapping, as much as he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to yell, or snap or do anything of the sort in front of Shishido, but the defensive look on Shishido’s face made him somehow angry; angry at the way Shishido held everything in in front of him but ran off to Atobe to spill.

“What would our conversation matter to you anyway?” he questioned back.

Shishido shut his mouth as they opened the door to the dormitory, the both of them storming straight past Sengoku before he could do so much as to greet them.

Up the stairs to the second floor, and to their room, Shishido unlocked the door and pushed in, Oshitari closing it right behind himself a second later.

“Why are you being so weird about this?” Oshitari huffed, walking to his bed. He sat down at the edge and pulled off his shoes and socks.

“Weird?” Shishido snorted. “If you want to talk about weird, talk about the way you’re acting, following me and then listening in to our conversation through the door.”

Oshitari froze. “You knew I was there?”

“I saw you run across the courtyard,” Shishido muttered. “We both saw you,” he corrected. “But I didn’t realise you’d actually go into his room after I’d left. I thought you’d just follow me back.”

Oshitari swallowed, noticing the way Shishido had crossed his arms, stubbornly looking away from him, refusing to meet his gaze yet again. “If you knew I was there, why didn’t you say something?” he asked slowly.

“Why should I?” Shishido snorted. “We were both waiting to see if you did anything.”

“What did you think I’d do?” Oshitari pressed further.

Shishido stared across at him, expression hard. “Anything but hang outside the door and wait until I was gone. Anything but simply listen in and do nothing.”

“But I couldn’t hear anything,” Oshitari protested. His mouth was moving faster than his thoughts.

Shishido’s expression flickered for just a second, his look of frustration crumpling just long enough that Oshitari saw it; a look of loneliness, not anger, in his eyes.

“Why are you so worried that I heard something?” Oshitari frowned, trying to calm himself. He pressed his thumb into the palm of his other hand, wanting something to grip on to, as if to hold himself steady. “Unless you were talking about me.”

Shishido’s eyes met his then, and Oshitari held his breath. “What would you think if we were?”

“Considering how little you seem to like me, you couldn’t have been saying anything good,” Oshitari murmured bitterly.

He stood up, turning around to fix up his bed covers.

“When did I say that?” Shishido asked loudly, startling him.

“You don’t have to say it,” Oshitari countered. “The most expressive type of language is body language,” he added dryly. “Or did you skip that lesson?”

Shishido visibly bristled, but beneath the frown on his face, Oshitari thought he saw confusion. Not for the first time, either.

“Why are you here?” he asked. The question sounded sudden; misplaced in their conversation, yet the possible answers had been festering in his head for weeks already. Ever since Shishido had asked him that question and he’d replied so carelessly.

His sister had called him two nights before, to ask how he was getting on. She’d insisted that if Oshitari talked to their father, he’d probably let him come home. But Oshitari refused. He wasn’t about to come home whimpering like a mutt. Not now.

As he watched Shishido, he almost thought he’d get a retort. But Shishido only pursed his lips and then answered him seriously.

“I want to be,” he said simply.

“Why?” Oshitari questioned.

Shishido’s gaze flickered. He pulled his leg up to his chest and sat still on the side of his bed, a hand rubbing at his hair, at the back of his neck, at his eyes and face.

“My brother disappeared last year,” he began, and stopped, checking Oshitari’s reaction. “He needed money, and he ended up falling in with the wrong sorts of people.”

“Gangs... you mean?” Oshitari asked, keeping his voice quiet.

Shishido nodded. “Yeah. That, and worse.”

Oshitari nearly questioned him on the ‘and worse’, but Shishido was lost in his own thoughts.

“We’re pretty sure his body was dumped somewhere, but... we never found him.” His eyes narrowed. “He didn’t actually have a criminal record, and the guys he’d hung out with all disappeared soon afterwards, probably skipped out of the country once they realised what had happened. Or maybe they had something to do with it too, I don’t know.”

Sucking in a breath, he went on. “I met Atobe then. He wasn’t in charge of my brother’s case, but of a connected one and he... He was the only person who took my brother’s case seriously, otherwise they tend to write off missing persons like him pretty quickly.”

Oshitari felt himself slump a little. “So you joined the police to find your brother yourself?”

Shishido snorted, smiling wryly. “Do I look like I’m that sort of a guy? I know he’s already long dead. Small fry probably dumped in the harbour and eaten by fish already, given his luck,” he said, and Oshitari’s heart twisted a little at the look on his face.

No wonder he kept to himself. He had his own agenda. Probably didn’t want to get too close to anyone else here.

“I came here because I wanted to, like I said,” he insisted stubbornly. “So now you know, you can keep it to yourself.”

Oshitari blinked at the warning, letting a slight smile flit over his lips. “I don’t see a need to share it with anyone else,” he murmured. No, he’d much rather keep it to himself; a tiny little privilege to know what other people didn’t know about Shishido.

“So is it related to your mother’s accident?” he asked, pieces fitting together in his head.

Shishido looked across at him evenly. “Yeah. What else? When he disappeared, he’d had some of their money - advance pay - and a couple of kilos of drugs on him. They came looking for him, and when they couldn’t find him, they took it out on my mother instead.”

“I didn’t know,” Oshitari murmured.

Shishido gave him a look. “Why would you? You looked like a pretty self-absorbed guy, you know? I’m surprised you’ve stuck it out here anyway; thought you’d go running home in a week max.”

“Is that what you thought of me?” Oshitari sighed, and flopped backwards, arms above his head. “I’m not going home,” he declared.

“Besides,” he added. “I heard we’re doing strip searches next week. I thought I’d better stick around for those at least.”

“Idiot,” Shishido snorted, laughing despite himself, and threw his pillow across. It missed Oshitari completely and smacked into the wall instead.

“And people like you can look forward to target practice,” Oshitari mused. “Because you need it.”

+

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen.”

Oshitari looked up from his notes sharply, the voice familiar to him but in an unfamiliar setting.

Atobe wasn’t supposed to be standing up the front of their tactics class.

“As you can see,” Atobe smiled in amusement, catching Oshitari’s eye. “We’ve had a change in instructors, so from today onwards, I’ll be looking after you in the tactics and strategy department, along with the usual assistants. If you have any queries, don’t hesitate to come and see me in my office.”

There were murmurs around Oshitari; interest, confusion, amusement. He ignored the whispers, and tried to concentrate on Atobe.

“Don’t expect any tea and biscuits,” Atobe continued, “But I do have a comfy sofa and you’re welcome to sit on it.”

“Actually it sucks to sit on,” Shishido commented dryly.

“Because you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Oshitari muttered, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

It was November already, and Shishido’s visits continued unabated. The only difference being that sometimes - just sometimes - he asked if Oshitari wanted to go with him. Sometimes Oshitari went alone.

+

“What sort of an introduction was that, if I may ask?” Oshitari drawled as he stepped into Atobe’s office.

Atobe immediately glanced behind him, and Oshitari pulled the door shut, making it clear that he was by himself for once.

“Just something a little different,” Atobe smirked. “You didn’t like it?”

Oshitari rolled his eyes. “A comfortable sofa? Please,” he snorted. “You’re not inviting them in here to blend in with the furniture, are you?”

Atobe chuckled, gesturing to Oshitari’s usual chair.

“And what can I do for you tonight then, Oshitari Yuushi? I note you’re without your usual company... so where is he?”

Oshitari dropped into the chair and crossed his legs. “He’s occupying the bathroom. I even had to go next door to use theirs because he’s been in the bath for an hour. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he actually wanted to sleep in there.”

“And you’re here?” Atobe mused. “You’re not peeking through the door?”

Oshitari snorted, but acknowledged the comment.

“Well, you’re not very good at it anyway,” Atobe chuckled, much too amused for Oshitari’s liking.

“So?” he continued. “How are things going with him anyway? You look as though you’re getting along... and yet, I detect a sense of dissatisfaction?”

“You really see through everything, don’t you?” Oshitari muttered, not in the least bit surprised by Atobe’s observations.

“And you, you really miss some things, don’t you?” Atobe commented.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oshitari questioned.

Atobe stepped a little closer, making Oshitari inch back in his chair. He was always painfully aware of all of Atobe’s little actions, all of his movements, all of the lines in his shirts and the flickers of skin he sometimes saw through the gaps between buttons. Yet for all the tension between them, Oshitari always sensed a line between them; something invisible that kept them slightly distanced from each other.

Perhaps it was Shishido.

“I’m saying that...” Atobe took another step. “Perhaps you’re looking for signs in the wrong places.”

“Like?” Oshitari frowned.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Atobe waved his hand. “Perhaps you’re so busy being conscious of yourself in front of him that you miss the most obvious things.”

Oshitari stared until Atobe bumped a stack of papers off his desk and had to bend over to pick them up again.

“You’re jealous,” he said, almost smiling in triumph at the realisation. “You like him... don’t you.”

Atobe stood up again and stared. “Congratulations Watson. Only took you a month to realise, and it’s no wonder they’re not considering you for OCTB.”

Oshitari crossed his arms, Atobe’s payout by no means enough to wipe the smile from his face.

“So why haven’t you done anything?” he asked, tilting his head up. “He doesn’t actually come to see you for the non-existent tea and biscuits, you realise.”

At Atobe’s silence, he continued on, tone slightly more serious. “And it’s not as though you’re unattractive...”

“I’m your instructor,” Atobe returned, deadpanned. “Did you forget that?”

Oshitari snorted. “And that makes a difference how? If anything, it should make things more convenient, don’t you think?” He glanced around the office. “You even have that lovely, comfortable sofa. You didn’t ever ask him if he wanted to try it out with you?”

Atobe scowled, so suddenly childish and petulant that Oshitari nearly laughed. He watched as Atobe took his seat behind his desk. It was so rare for him to sit there, and yet, when he did, Oshitari realised that he was right.

Perhaps even he... subconsciously... had been holding himself back because of their difference in rank. Because he knew that Atobe was off limits. Because they’d had it drilled into their heads that fraternising amongst themselves was forbidden, and associating with higher-ups outside of classes, even more so.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in here at nights, and the way Atobe glanced at the door every time a set of feet went past outside was proof of it.

They were both aware of it - Shishido too - but they ignored it when it suited them.

Atobe leaned forwards, hands clasped together on his desk. “How much do you value your position here at the academy?” he asked. “Answer me seriously, Oshitari.”

Oshitari pursed his lips together. How much did he value...?

He no longer wanted to leave; that much was for sure. The drills were no longer monotonous for him; he got a sense of pride every time they disbanded and he found himself reflecting on their improvements. No longer did Momo and Kamio and Kaidou bicker themselves stupid; they seemed to have found the same sense of achievement Oshitari had. Their long jogs around the track had become almost calming and ritualistic, and he was actually interested in even the procedure and protocol classes - the ones he’d thought he’d absolutely detest. It was interesting, looking at the law from this angle, and certainly would come in handy when he found himself practising law later on.

If he practised law.

“You wouldn’t want to be kicked out purely over a disciplinary issue, would you?” Atobe murmured. “And I have no intention of helping you along if you do.” He sat back again, running a hand through his hair tiredly. “We’re already in November. Come July, you’ll be out of here.”

“When do you leave?” Oshitari asked suddenly. “You said it was temporary...”

Atobe snorted, closing his eyes and rubbing at them. “Well, that’s what I was told, but it appears they want me to stay on here, unless the big guy changes his mind.”

“You don’t want to be here?” Oshitari questioned, his voice quiet.

“Well,” Atobe rolled his eyes. “There are personal wants, and there are needs, and then there are duties. Unfortunately for most of us, the three almost never amount to the same thing.”

So Atobe felt constrained by his position too.

Oshitari clenched his hands in his lap. So if he wanted anything to ever happen with Atobe, it would have to be his move first. He let his eyes flick over Atobe’s shoulders, slightly slumped, and the badge on the pocket of his shirt, the ID that marked out his name, position and number.

“Anyway, isn’t it time for you to go?” Atobe sighed, tilting his head towards the clock, as was his habit.

Oshitari nodded and stood stiffly. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Atobe, as though remembering himself, stood up too. “Earlier than you expect,” he noted.

+

“How was he?” Shishido asked when Oshitari stepped back into their room. He was lying on his bed and he lowered his magazine and stared over the top of it at Oshitari.

“Tired,” Oshitari answered, still mulling over the last part of their conversation.

He shook his head to himself and pulled out his desk chair, sitting in it as he pulled off his shoes and unzipped his jumper.

“So what did you talk about?” Shishido mumbled.

Oshitari across at him, slinging an arm across the back of his chair. “Just about that stupid introduction he did this morning,” he answered. “You didn’t miss much,” he snorted.

“Oh, that,” Shishido frowned, as though even reminding him was distasteful. He flicked his magazine straight and held it in front of his face again, but Oshitari’s gaze stayed on him.

“What?” he sighed, after a minute.

Oshitari shook his head again. “Nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then stop staring,” Shishido ordered.

Oshitari smiled slightly. “Well actually, it isn’t nothing, per se... I just didn’t think you’d want to know what I was thinking.” And he stood up, stretching. “I’m going to take a shower and -”

“Tell me,” Shishido demanded.

Oshitari stopped walking, hiding his smile before turning to face Shishido properly. “Make me,” he demanded back.

“Aren’t you too old for that?” Shishido almost sulked. Oshitari noted the magazine was now on the floor again. He had Shishido’s full attention.

“Likewise,” he commented, smirking at the indignant blush rising on Shishido’s cheeks.

“Idiot,” Shishido scowled.

“You know you love it,” Oshitari all but purred, utterly smug in his victory, and he turned to step into the bathroom, expecting something to hit the back of his head if he stood still long enough.

But Shishido didn’t answer the way he’d expected - there was no pillow throwing, and no returned insult either - and Oshitari turned back to glance at him.

Shishido was frowning back at him, eyebrows knitted in an expression of worry.

“Do you like him?” he questioned.

“Who?” Oshitari blinked.

“You know who,” Shishido pressed.

“Oh...” Oshitari fumbled. He hadn’t expected Shishido to ever bring up the conversation himself. “You mean Atobe?”

Shishido nodded.

“Well he’s entertaining, isn’t he? A good way to pass the time in the evenings,” Oshitari managed to fudge, though it was as far from his thoughts just then as anything could be.

“That’s not what I meant,” Shishido said evenly, and Oshitari was surprised to realise he wasn’t the one in control of this conversation (or this situation) anymore at all. His chest tightened - with worry, pain, anticipation, adrenalin? What was it? - when Shishido spoke again.

“I meant... Do you...” he was having trouble phrasing it. “Are you attracted to him like that?”

“Like what?” Oshitari questioned, deliberately dense.

“Why are you -” Shishido raised his voice, frustration evident, and cut himself off, instead huffing and pushing himself off the surface of the bed, moving towards Oshitari before Oshitari even realised why they were getting closer to one another.

“Like this,” he all but growled, and as Oshitari registered the bathroom door handle banging into his side, he realised there was a pair of hands on his cheeks, and a pair of lips on his.

Shishido was insistent, hands moving to scrunch into the front of Oshitari’s shirt, even as Oshitari tried to pull away and only banged his head on the door behind him.

The noise seemed to startle Shishido, and he pulled back from Oshitari quickly, staring at him with wide eyes, as though Oshitari had been the one to spring the kiss on him, and not the other way around. But at least this time he didn’t look away.

Oshitari tentatively raised his hand and pushed a strand of hair from his eyes, unable to do anything but hold Shishido’s gaze, even if he hadn’t wanted to. He wasn’t perfectly sure what had just happened, really, except that Shishido was pressing him into the door, and his side was throbbing where it had hit the door handle, and his face felt incredibly hot... as did the rest of him. And why was Shishido staring so insistently? Why didn’t he speak?

“Do you?” Shishido finally asked uncertainly, a lick of his own lips catching Oshitari’s attention.

“Do I what?” Oshitari swallowed, completely confused. His throat felt clogged, and his voice came out strangely, almost as though he wasn’t the one speaking. His lips felt slightly wet, and it felt like something warm was on the bottom one, somehow. It stung. Saliva? Blood? He flicked out his tongue and tasted something hot and slightly tangy; so it was blood after all.

“Do you like... him?” Shishido frowned.

Oshitari shifted against the door, away from the handle. “The answer to that question is... that...”

He watched Shishido’s brow crease and crinkle, and swallowed again, trying to rid himself of his nervousness; the fluttery, unsettled feeling in his stomach, and the tightness in his chest and throat.

“I thought that... I asked him if I was reading you right, and he said he thought you liked... me too,” Shishido muttered, pushing himself off the wall with his hand. “But I guess -”

“I do!” Oshitari responded loudly, blurting out the words. “I like him,” he clarified, quieter now. “But I also like you.”

Then he added: “Like that,” just in case Shishido was misunderstanding him. “Is that going to be a problem?” He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Shishido’s wrist. “I was just waiting for the right time,” he murmured.

“And when would that be?” Shishido grumbled. “You’ve been staring at me for ages but you never -”

Oshitari ignored him, his hand at the back of Shishido’s head as he pressed their mouths together - this time less hurried and aggressive than their first kiss, savouring the feeling of Shishido’s soft lips as he caressed his jaw with his thumb. He tilted his head a little more and Shishido obliged, parting his lips for Oshitari to slip his tongue in between them, gently probing Shishido’s mouth.

He could feel Shishido pressing him harder again as they kissed, up against the door, and he felt Shishido’s hands on his waist, and his groin pressing up against his hip, a pleasant, hot sensation between Oshitari’s legs. But he broke their kiss as he felt Shishido’s hand shifting across his stomach, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Wait,” he whispered roughly. “We can’t do it here... now.”

“Why?” Shishido kissed him again softly, lips moving to nibble at his ear.

“Too much noise,” Oshitari panted out. Shishido was unbuttoning the front of his jeans already, the only problem being his zipper getting stuck halfway down.

“Didn’t stop you any other night of the week,” Shishido retorted, yanking the zip all the way down.

Oshitari was too stunned to respond for a second. “How long did you know for?” he asked slowly.

“Since the first week,” Shishido rolled his eyes, but his expression softened when Oshitari lifted his hands to cover his face.

“How embarrassing,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you... You could have said something.”

Shishido’s cheeks were just as pink as Oshitari’s after a moment of silence. “You’re so stupid,” he muttered, staring at the floor.

“You’re stupider,” Oshitari said back, and raised Shishido’s chin up to look him in the eyes again. “What were you waiting for me to say anything for? What were you going to do if I never said anything at all?”

“Maybe... do this?” Shishido whispered roughly, right before he kissed Oshitari again, and they resumed where they left off.

Oshitari had no objections, as much as he was curious to ask Shishido more about his conversations with Atobe. Were they what he’d thought Oshitari had heard that first night? But Shishido soon distracted him from any coherent train of thought, his body hot and the scent of his skin still sweet like the soap in the shower.

Shishido’s hands were softer than Oshitari’s own, but his index finger and his palm were still calloused, proof of all the target practice they’d been doing up at the range, and all the times they’d had to dismantle their weapons, clean them, and put them back together again. Proof of all the push-ups he’d had to do on the asphalt as punishment, or the chin-ups he’d done on the bars. So when he pushed Oshitari’s underwear and jeans off his hips, Oshitari could feel the roughness against his skin, but he supposed his hands had the same effect on Shishido, and who was he to complain when it only added to the sensations on his body? It only turned him on more to think these same hands touching him were the ones he’d been watching for what felt like an eternity - thrust into jeans pockets, wrapped around hard metal cartridges, flicking through magazines, sliding over calves when he pulled on his track pants - and now they were finally touching him; touching his skin, and nothing else.

Lifting Shishido’s wrist, he pressed kisses to the calloused skin, before moving his hand to the back of Shishido’s neck and again kissing his pretty lips, biting hard on his bottom lip as a wave of possessiveness ran through him. And revenge too, perhaps, for the mark he knew was on his lip by accident.

A minute later, he watched, staring downwards, unabashedly turned on as Shishido touched his cock - fingertips first, and then slowly curling his fingers around it as Oshitari spread his legs wider. The palm of his hand was hot and dry, and Oshitari tipped his head back momentarily, moving his hips slightly to press forwards, shivering at the sense of friction and tightness Shishido’s hand offered.

But Shishido raised his other hand to Oshitari’s neck, forcing him to look at him again. “Don’t just watch,” he grunted.

“I wasn’t intending to,” Oshitari retorted, as he used his hands to push Shishido’s pants off and then manoeuvred his jocks over his semi-hard penis. Shishido gripped him tighter the instant Oshitari touched him, and he winced, before Shishido seemed to realise what he’d done and muttered out an embarrassed apology.

Afterwards, Oshitari thought it was awfully convenient they’d been right at the bathroom door. They’d tossed their shirts into the sink and washed them, and Shishido had taken his second bath for the day. But this time, it was with Oshitari, and he really didn’t mind that it was an hour-long soak (even if it was cramped in the tub and Shishido was almost too embarrassed to look at him) because this time he wasn’t on the other side of the door.

+

“Are you going to breakfast now?” Shishido asked the next morning.

Oshitari finished tying his shoes and nodded. “Yeah, in a moment.”

“Then... I’ll wait for you,” Shishido declared, crossed his arms and stood at the door, as though waiting for Oshitari to object.

Oshitari smiled to himself.

+

“Are you replacing all of our instructors?” Oshitari asked dryly, as Atobe walked past him during their first class.

“No, of course not,” Atobe smiled. “I don’t like to overwork myself, after all.”

“Then why are you here?” Oshitari sighed.

“You’re not happy to see me?” Atobe asked, smirking as he leaned down.

“Don’t change the question,” Oshitari warned, looking up at Atobe from where he was squatting on the ground, hands on either side of Shishido’s right leg.

“Can you just cut the chatter?” Shishido finally grumbled. “Is it my turn yet? Are you finished feeling up my leg, Oshitari?”

Atobe chuckled, looking around the room, and Oshitari rolled his eyes to himself. Trust Atobe to take over their protocols lessons the one day they did anything exciting.

“So are we supposed to take off their shirts or anything?” someone asked nearby, and Atobe turned around, putting back on a professional face again.

“Not today,” he answered. “Basically what we’re doing is the standard pat down, but we’ll go into other types of and other uses for strip searches in a couple of minutes. Right now I just want you to get a feel for what you can and can’t tell from this sort of a search. You should pat down the sides and down the insides and outsides of both legs, as well as checking for any excess bulges at the waist or around the groin area -”

“So we’re basically getting a feel up or something,” Kamio butted in.

Oshitari snickered at the glare Atobe sent him. “If you want to term it that way, then feel free to, but consider the fact that every time you don’t take one of these searches seriously, you’re neglecting your first duty as a member of the police force. Your primary mission is to protect, and to maintain the peace. And how do you do that? By ensuring that people do not carry weapons. By checking for illicit packages crossing borders. Get it?”

Oshitari snorted in amusement. How upright Atobe managed to sound when he wanted to.

And he went back to patting Shishido’s arse.

“Stop it,” Shishido snapped, swatting his hands away.

“Don’t stop me from doing my duty,” Oshitari warned, deadpanned. “I’m protecting the peace.”

Shishido’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as Atobe walked past them again, eyes scanning his body up and down.

“I did say you were checking for excessive bulges, Oshitari,” he said right next to his ear, “not trying to cause them.”

Shishido slapped Oshitari’s hands away for a second time and turned around to face Oshitari. “Your turn now,” he declared, and kicked Oshitari’s legs apart before he could even stop snickering.

“Just be glad we’re not doing body cavity searches,” Atobe smiled.

“We don’t have to practise those though, do we?” Shishido asked, clarifying.

“It could always be arranged,” Atobe smirked. “As an extra-curricular activity.”

Oshitari couldn’t help himself at the look on Shishido’s face, and promptly started laughing, losing his footing and falling into Shishido, who, disgusted, pushed him off and stalked from the room.

“Smooth,” Atobe chuckled, as he walked off to inspect some of the other pairs.

Oshitari straightened himself up and went out the door after Shishido, who he found standing up against the outer wall of the building, hands at his sides, fingers tapping in annoyance.

“Stupid,” he simply said and stared straight ahead across the courtyard, but when Oshitari joined him against the wall, Shishido walked his fingers across the brick wall until they touched Oshitari’s and linked together.

+

December brought with it the first of three examination periods, and the promise afterwards of five days of holiday from lessons, Christmas, and then New Year’s eve.

Shishido still snored when he slept, most nights, and Oshitari no longer had to worry about the noise from the AC unit. Instead, he worried about his toes getting cold in bed, and the way Shishido’s bed creaked when he climbed in to join him in the middle of the night, and just how many of Shishido’s sleepy mumbles Kaidou and Momo could hear through the wall.

The days were shorter, and the mornings dimmer, and Shishido had more and more trouble dragging himself from bed in time for breakfast, which meant that Oshitari subconsciously resorted to getting up before him and opening the curtains to let in the light. He almost always showered first, so that the hot water would come through more quickly for Shishido afterwards.

Atobe’s office didn’t have any heating at all, though he pointed out he’d requested something be installed so his toes didn’t fall off from frostbite before winter was over, so Shishido and Oshitari ended up wrapping themselves in scarves and jackets before heading over to the old building at night, slipping in through the emergency exit.

More than once, they ended up helping Atobe with his work, which they suspected he failed to do during the days since he seemed to spend a lot of time hanging out of his window and staring at the cadets at drill practices.

Shishido had started sticking out his tongue as they passed him, and one day, Oshitari thought he saw Atobe do the same back before smirking and taking a sip of his coffee.

They hadn’t talked any further about him, but they both knew the subject would come up sooner or later, neither of them quite game enough yet to broach it, but ever conscious of it.

+

“So what’re you doing over the Christmas break?” Momo asked, with a light kick to Oshitari’s back.

It was a Thursday night, and Oshitari was amusing himself in the lounge, kneeling on the floor opposite Kaidou, the Chinese checkers board in between the two of them. Momoshiro was (weirdly enough) a better opponent, because he took less time to make decisions than Kaidou, but he was also more prone to trying to cheat, which was annoying because Oshitari hated to have to keep his eyes on the game at all times. It was, he’d readily admit, a bit of an excuse to hang out in the lounge and let his eyes wander over the other guys in there. Including Shishido, who had slowly but surely claimed one of the couches and who glared at anyone else who dared sit on it when they thought he wouldn’t be around in the evening.

Momo dropped down next to Kaidou, leaning just a little close, Oshitari thought. And sure enough, Kaidou gave a huff, looking a little testy, as he pushed Momo away with a hand. “Get your own space, idiot,” he warned, and Momo grinned, only encouraged by his roommate’s bad temper.

“Why should I? All the seats are taken already. You look like a comfortable option,” he teased, throwing an arm around Kaidou for good measure.

Kaidou raised his arm, and a moment later, Momo was smacked across the face and was lying flat on his back.

Oshitari made a show of sighing, but it really was nothing new. If Momo really wanted Kaidou’s attention so badly, someone ought to tell him he was going about it entirely the wrong way. Perhaps Sengoku could give him a push in the right direction, now that he’d stopped bothering Oshitari so much.

“I’m going home to my family for Christmas,” Kaidou said quietly, making his move finally.

Oshitari watched with a slight pang as he used the positions of Oshitari’s marbles, spread across the board, and skipped one of his own into Oshitari’s territory.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “For Christmas?”

Oshitari frowned. “I’m not going home, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s no point.”

And he skipped one of his own marbles across the same path Kaidou had just taken, merely going in the opposite direction. Still two to get across and then he could start shifting his stepping stones as well.

“You don’t want to see your family?” Kaidou asked, more quietly than even before. Sometimes Oshitari found it impressive that he could even pick up the hisses and mumbles the other man was so very good at.

“I don’t think they want to see me,” Oshitari mused, trying to put on a smile nonetheless. The lounge wasn’t the place for depressing talk, and he certainly didn’t appreciate the whispers that would go through the group afterwards.

Kaidou looked at him almost with pity, before dipping his eyes back to the game board.

“You can always stay on campus,” Momo said, sitting back up. Oshitari sighed at him. He seemed to have had enough irritating Kaidou for the evening - they were always like this, the two of them. One minute Momo was trying his hardest to get Kaidou riled up and angry, and the next he was behaving normally, as though he’d discovered that having Kaidou keep his distance was less preferable to having him simply hissing and spitting with his fur up. Apparently there was an optimum amount of teasing Kaidou could take and Momo wanted to dish out.

“I was intending to stay on campus,” Oshitari noted.

“You’re staying on campus?” Kamio interrupted, shuffling across the floor from where he’d been propped up next to Shishido’s couch. “So... I guess you haven’t heard then.”

“Heard what?” Oshitari sighed. Another story. More gossip. “What is it this time? Ghosts?”

“You have that look on your face again, you know, that look you like to give people when you don’t believe what you’re about to hear,” Shinji mumbled, and Oshitari wondered why he too had to shuffle across the floor, mumbling as he went. How on earth had he passed the interview to get in here in the first place? He talked so much, how could he ever keep secrets to himself?

“Even Kamio believes this one, even though he says he doesn’t,” Shinji continued, eyes staring straight at Oshitari, who pretended to concentrate on watching Kaidou’s move. “There was a cadet here... twenty years ago,” he murmured. “He was meant to spend Christmas at the academy because his family wouldn’t let him go home, but he snuck out at night, and went home by taxi -”

“Isn’t that expensive?” Momo cut in, giving Kamio and Shinji sceptical looks. “Even if I go home by taxi, it costs an arm and a leg.”

“Maybe he just lived around the corner,” Kamio frowned, and Shinji pressed on, despite Kaidou’s long-suffering sigh and Momo’s huff.

“And when he reached home, he stared in through the window and he found out why his family hadn’t wanted him home in the first place,” Shinji paused, dramatically. Funny, Oshitari thought; maybe Kamio had told him stories sounded better that way, when they weren’t a long dribble of monologue in a monotone voice.

“Hurry up,” Momo frowned. “Go on and say it already. What was it?”

“Actually his girlfriend had died while he was at the academy and his family had kept it from him, so when he went home, he saw her photograph through the window, and he saw his parents praying to it so he decided to kill himself. He came back to the academy and hung himself in the shower -”

“How could he?” Kaidou muttered, looking unnerved. “He’d have to have been too short to be admitted here then. The showers are so small.”

Kamio crossed his arms. “Hey, if you don’t believe it, why don’t you go ask one of those old farts in tactics? It’s true, you know.”

Oshitari snorted. How Atobe would love to know he was automatically classified as an ‘old fart’.

“So what’s the point of the story?” Momo frowned.

“Oh, well, I heard that if you hang around on Christmas, you can hear him wailing and moaning in the corridors,” Kamio finished up, and Oshitari noted the rest of the room had hushed up and was staring at them with various expressions on their faces.

Exactly why he didn’t like to share anything personal in here. There was no such thing as privacy.

“That was a stupid story,” Momo declared loudly and moved closer to Kaidou again. “Besides,” he added carefully, “I’m going home for Christmas too.”

Oshitari let out a little sigh. “Well I don’t believe in ghosts,” he said quietly. “And even if I did, then I wouldn’t care. At least I’d have some company here, since all of you seem to be disappearing on me.”

Behind him, he was aware of a shuffling noise, and then he felt something warm and soft against his foot.

He looked up, and Shishido was staring down at him with a blank expression on his face. “I’m going to see her on Saturday,” he said quietly. “If you want, you can come with me again.”

Oshitari nodded. “So you’re staying at the dormitory too?”

“Well... Aren’t you?” Shishido muttered, and cast a glance towards the windows.

Oshitari smiled slightly, understanding before Shishido said anything else. “Sit down,” he directed. “Play me after I finish demolishing Kaidou here.”

Shishido looked unimpressed. “It’s a kids’ game.”

Oshitari raised his eyebrow. “It’s a tactics game,” he answered. “Sit down and you’ll see. Make a wrong move and it’ll come back to bite you ten turns later. That’s how it is.”

Shishido hardly looked convinced, but sat anyway, and Momo took turns getting too close to Kaidou and then getting too close to Kamio. Shinji commentated on the game and Oshitari had to tell him to shut up because he was giving away all his moves ahead of time. And when Oshitari played Shishido afterwards, he proved his point.

By the time he had all his marbles in Shishido’s territory and in position, Shishido was still at least seven moves behind.

Shishido frowned at him, fingering one of the glass balls, as though annoyed his game had been cut short by Oshitari’s victory.

“Play me again,” he demanded, and Oshitari simply smirked as they re-organised the board.

+

Continue to Part III~