Slam Dunk Fan Fiction ❯ Loving Koshino ❯ Paper, Stick, and Stone ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimers: I don't own Slam Dunk. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue. No copyright infringement intended. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.

Warnings: bad language, angst

Thank you very much to Mata, and Kadzuki Fuchoin (-->Get Backers, ne? He and Jubei are so cute together!) for the comments. =) *glomps* The MakiKosh fic will be (hopefully) finished soon.

Loving Koshino
from Kokoro no Kigen (Temper of Heart) Arc
by AJ Maxwell

Chapter Seven: Paper, Stick, and Stone

"You're leaving me for him, aren't you?"

"..."

"Why? Because I'm not good enough for you? Because I'm not strong enough, because I don't fit your description of a survivor--a savior! Because he completes your deepest fantasy and I don't!"

"..."

"I took everything, everything that you dished out. I took your punches, I took your insults...I held you whenever you couldn't take things anymore...I loved you. Is this how you--"

"I...when I look at him, I can't help seeing myself, Kenji. Whenever I look at him, I can't help needing to put my arms around him, to do my best around him...to make everything perfect for him. I want...it's as if someone else does everything to make things perfect for me when I--"

"But he's my friend, too! I will stand back, I promise I will stand back if only you leave because you love him and not because--"

"How dare you demand a condition?! You hide behind the act of being a true friend to him, but are you really? I won't let you spoil our happiness because of your spite!"

"You don't care about his happiness, Shinichi. Don't delude yourself like this..."

"You have no right to judge my actions, nor my feelings. This will be good for me, I know it."

"But--"

"And aren't you tired? Aren't you tired of us? I...no matter how often I do it, I truly don't like hurting you, Kenji. Believe me, this is for the best."

"Shinichi, I promised I'll help you get through this, and I don't intend to break that promise! No matter how many times you lose control, I'll help you!"

"But isn't it obvious that you can't? Really, I am grateful for everything that you've done for me, but this is only destroying us. I release you from your promise, Kenji. You are very dear to me, and every time I hurt you, I want to die. Please, please this is for the best."

"Shinichi..."

"Kenji...I hope in time you'll be able to forgive me."

"...I'll forgive you, if only..."

"If only what, Kenji? Tell me, and I'll do everything in my power for your forgiveness."

"I'll forgive you, if only you promise not to hurt him. Not even once, Shinichi. And once you do, you let him go, and let your uncle help you."

"I promise, Kenji. Thank you. You are a good friend to him."

"I just...I just want you to be well, Shinichi."

"Oi, Fujima! What are you doin' here?!"

Fujima turned blue eyes to the source of the well-known racket, and sighed. His redheaded junior vice president was gaily ambling towards him. "Sakuragi. Just drinking."

Sakuragi grinned at him. "Feh. If I'd known you liked places of this type, then I'd've dragged you clubbing every week! And I thought you only lived for your little office papers and stuff."

"I don't."

"Eh?"

"I don't really like places like this, and I don't live for my, as you called it, little office papers and stuff."

Sakuragi looked at Fujima curiously, his brown eyes narrowing and his fists on his waist. "So, why are you in a place that you don't really like?"

Fujima turned his back on him and downed the remaining contents of his glass. He hopped off the stool, and handed the bartender a thick wad of cash. "Keep the change."

He left, not even glancing back at the gaping bartender and at Sakuragi, who had a concerned expression on his face.

±

Koshino crept quietly out of Sendoh's room, and shut the door without a sound. He sighed to himself--a heavy, mindless sigh. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he was thinking of at that very moment, and he didn't care, really. He was just relieved that Sendoh was all right.

As he walked to the mini fridge to get a glass of water, he noticed a light emanating from his television set in the living room. Curious as to who left it on, he found Mitsui lounging in one of the couches, both feet positioned on either side of the couch, making his legs spread far apart as possible. He appeared to be almost sitting on his lower back, and his eyes gazed listlessly at the muted television.

The half sitting, half lying position of the other man reminded Koshino of his more fun times, easier times, with Mitsui. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be in such a carefree yet intense companionship. No matter what that relationship cost him in the past, the memories only reaffirmed that he would be a fool if he regretted any second of it.

"Oi. I don't allow engaged men to ogle me, you know," came the dry tone. Mitsui's eyes were still on the TV.

Koshino chuckled. "I was not ogling you, as you'd put it, Hisashi. I was merely reminiscing."

There was a soft snort, followed by, "Anything good?"

"Hai. They're all good."

Mitsui nodded, still not looking up at Koshino.

"We need to talk."

Both of them blinked at the words, then said, "You first."

"This is being counterproductive," Koshino murmured.

Mitsui grinned as he held his right fist before him. "Hn. Paper, stick, and stone. Up to one. You ready?"

Koshino grinned back, laughing softly. "Haven't done this in a long time. I'm afraid my skills are rusty."

The other man shrugged, dark blue eyes twinkling. "It's just up to one, Koshino Hiroaki. Unless, that is, your guts have left you."

"Don't question my guts, Mitsui Hisashi," Koshino said airily, mock-insulted.

Mitsui snorted. "Heh. Coulda fooled me there. So, how about it? Up to one, or I'm going to make it up to ten." Then his voice lowered, his eyes raking over his ex-lover's form suggestively. "And you know what happens when I win at ten."

"That's just what I was going to talk to you about, Hisashi," he retorted quickly, repressing the full body blush that the other man's eyes never failed to elicit. He thanked his lucky stars that the only illumination came from the TV.

"Hn. Spoilsport," Mitsui intoned, sounding mock-disappointed and apologetic at the same time.

"Gomen."

"So, go ahead. Scrap the game. It wouldn't have mattered, since I'd've let you win, anyway."

"Mitsui...?"

Mitsui raised an eyebrow in question, but kept quiet.

Koshino worried his lower lip, nervous all of a sudden. How does one go about discouraging someone when he perfectly knows that he isn't encouraged? And what if it was just his imagination? Hell, it wasn't his imagination, but how does he go about it without sounding...well, self-centered?

Mitsui scowled. "If this is about me supposed to have gotten over you already, then--then..."

"I want you to move on, Hisashi. I want you to be happy," Koshino said, his eyes imploring the other man to understand, to accept.

"But I am happy!" he blurted out, his voice a tad louder. "Don't think I haven't had my fair share of lovers after we ended it." He drew in a deep breath, suddenly finding himself angry. At whom, he wasn't entirely sure. "And just who the hell are you to think that I haven't moved on? Why? And why mustn't I move on? Because of you? Just because of you?!" He panted, the torrent of words left him breathless. "...Egotistical bastard!"

Koshino glared, his face turning red. "What the hell did you just call me?!"

Mitsui had long ago placed his feet flat on the carpeted floor. He stood up, and looked down into Koshino's eyes. "I called you an egotistical bastard, Koshino Hiroaki," he ground out, his eyes challenging the other man to fight him. "I don't appreciate that you came here at all. I don't appreciate this talk we're having. I don't appreciate you bringing your love-struck lackey here and I sure as hell don't appreciate having to watch him drool after you! I HATE that you're engaged with that prick, Maki, and so SUE ME because I'm not over you! So, are you happy now?! Because I sure as hell ain't!"

During Mitsui's tirade Koshino had been fighting to rein in his temper. With a few calming breaths, he replied, his voice thick from heavy breathing, "No, I'm not happy. I'm not happy, because you're not, when you're supposed to be. Just... tell me if there's anything I can do to make you happy again."

"You know damn well what to do, Hiro, but you won't do it."

Koshino bit his lip, his expression set in a frown. "You're right. Anything but that, then."

"Why are you so fucking nice, Hiroaki?!" Mitsui shouted, his hands gripping Koshino's shoulders with fierce strength, making the other man wince in pain. "I insult you, I shout at you, I'm friggin' picking a fight with you here! Yet..." His grip loosened, his face a mask of loneliness. "Can't I just hate you, Hiroaki? Can't you be just someone I can hate?"

At his words, Mitsui suddenly found himself sprawled on the floor, his head nearly hitting the coffee table. There was an exploding pain on his left jaw, and he looked up to find Koshino, his sweet, adventurous Koshino, standing over him and glaring for all he was worth.

"Get out of here, Mitsui. Get the hell out of here before I do something that we'll both regret."

The voice was quiet, but like cold steel. It ripped through Mitsui like a stab at the back. He felt confused, and betrayed.

He left quickly.

As the door shut closed, Koshino's knees buckled from under him. If hating me is the only way, then I hope you'll hate me with every fiber, Hisashi. Or I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you tonight.

±

Sendoh soundlessly closed the door, and debated with himself if he should quickly go back to sleep, or comfort his Hiro-kun in the living room, who was clearly distressed by his actions toward Mitsui.

He was woken up when he thought he heard Koshino raise his voice, and when he got up to check, he was right. His Hiro-kun was engaged in a furious argument with the Senior Vice President, Mitsui Hisashi.

He did not mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but when he heard all the personal feelings that Mitsui was shouting at Koshino, he was struck by a realization, and it was not pretty.

He had always thought of Mitsui as self-assured, to say the least. He was good in his line of work. He was dedicated, he was intelligent, and he was charismatic. He's gorgeous, too, I'll give him that. Maybe I can accept it more if it was him and Hiro-kun engaged, and not that Maki. Not that I wouldn't be jealous, but...

He's all that, and most probably much more. So, why didn't Hiro-kun just elope with him or something? It's obvious to me that Mitsui's got it bad for him, and that he cares for Mitsui, too. Does Hiro-kun love Maki so much that he would give up anyone? Anything?

And what about me? I keep asking him to give me a chance... Maybe that's what Mitsui did before... Will I...

Sendoh had already made his way to the bed, and without looking, he sat, as if feeling the life seep out of him.

Will I turn out to be like Mitsui once Hiro-kun leaves me for Maki?

±

"I can't believe my eyes, but here you are! Am I a tensai, or what?!"

"Or what," Fujima muttered dryly. "What the hell are you doing here, Sakuragi?"

Sakuragi grinned smugly. "Same as you."

"Which is?" Fujima asked disinterestedly.

"Moping."

The reply came automatically. "I am not moping."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"You're in your office at 1 am, Fujima. Care to explain that to me?"

"No."

"You're only reinforcing my theory on you."

"..."

"Ask me what it is."

Fujima closed his eyes, and took deep breaths. "I don't care, Sakuragi. Leave me alone."

"As I said in the bar earlier, you only live for your little office papers and stuff."

"That's not true."

Sakuragi raised his eyebrows at him, as if to say, "Yeah right."

"Why do I even bother to reply to you?!" Fujima said, exasperated.

The red-haired man remained silent, opting to stay seated on his boss's office table.

"I'm pathetic."

"..."

"What I'm doing is pathetic."

"Yeah. Devoting all your time to this..." Sakuragi waved his hands around, referring to Fujima's business plans and other documents.

"I should get a life."

"Damn right."

"...but I have a life."

"...No you don't."

It was then that Fujima focused his blue eyes onto his comrade's, fastening them onto the redhead's features. "I used to, you know. But he wouldn't let me. Not anymore."

To Sakuragi, Fujima's glassy and slightly unfocused eyes told him that he was inebriated. He had never seen his boss so lost before, and he truly wondered what had made Fujima that way, to make him so far from the confident and in-control man that he knew and always admired. "I know," Sakuragi replied, his expression a study in quiet reflection. "We all hit bumps on the road, Fujima."

Fujima lowered his gaze, intently studying the very tiny hairs on the back of his hand.

A familiar snort was heard, followed by a well-known voice, "Didn't think you idiots'd be here as well. Why didn't anyone invite me to the drunk fest? I could use a beer or two right now."

"I'm not drunk, Mitchy. It's just Fujima."

"Well, well," he sighed, as he made his way to the two men. He sat on the table, facing Sakuragi, and leaned his head towards Fujima. "What's up with him?"

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Fujima mumbled, still intent on his hand.

"Okay. So what's up with you?"

"Nothing's up. Everything's down, down, d-down...Down, down. Doww~wwn..." [1] Fujima replied, singing the last word.

"Everyone's feeling shitty tonight," Mitsui muttered. "We should get him back into his condo."

"I think we need a drink."

"You, too?"

Sakuragi shrugged. "What? 's not as if there's a law against us drinking."

"Hn. I'll drive you all back to my condo. Let's drink. Let the egotistical jackass and his lackey pick up the pieces tomorrow."

Sakuragi did not want to ask who Mitsui was talking about just yet. Maybe it will come up during the night.

±

While on the drive to Mitsui's place, the three of them failed to notice Fujima's mobile phone ringing softly.

±±±

[1] tune of "When All the Stars Were Falling," by Lisa Loeb

Finished 25 April 2004