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Of course he would be. [He sets his chopsticks down, letting his food settle as he goes to look at the man across from him.]
What you teach him you can see as he grows. You're more than just a coach or a trainer, you're what he looks to put on the field. It's a little more personal than playing professional, I think.
We never had anyone quite like that...but it feels good seeing your own efforts show in the ones you teach. Miyabino...he knows Teikoku soccer better than anyone. It's something I'm proud of him for.
[He pokes at his food idly with the chopsticks, not sure how to respond to Sakuma's comment about Hakuryuu. He knows the boy cared about him, and he knows that they've warmed up to each other significantly over the last few weeks. Hakuryuu relaxed more in that apartment, moving about more freely and less silently, but when someone says it out loud like that...]
When I watch that kid talk to you, it makes me think of Endou back during FFI when he talked to Coach Kudou or Hibiki. I think it's a lot more personal for you and him than you're putting it, too.
[There's a small moment where Sakuma softens, closing his eye to think about how Fudou phrases that. He'd like to be seen as someone like Coach Kudou or Hibiki to the Teikoku kids. They'd been the one thing that tied him to sanity since he'd taken on so much work. Their smiling faces when they heard about Sakuma's new tactics...the way they tried not to look for praise and yet Sakuma gave it...
He wanted to be like someone he himself held in such high esteem.
But there's doubt there. Like he can't truly take that compliment without admitting to his many, many faults.]
Maybe.
It seems like we've both found someone like that in our lives. It's a challenge in its own right.
Mm. Teaching others anything is totally different from going for something for yourself.
[Sakuma doesn't accept the compliment, but Fudou doesn't push it onto him. He stuffs a few more pieces of food into his mouth, chewing quietly. One would say that the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Fudou doesn't mind it so much. At least it exists. At least Sakuma let it exist again, after he cut it off the way he did.]
You're doing that with hundreds of kids here, and they answer to you.
[Thick was a good way to put it. While Sakuma could never truly hate Fudou, for awhile he had hated the subject of him, eyes narrowing when he was brought into conversation, seeing him on the television after he'd cut contact so immediately and didn't leave room for anyone else's voice or opinion. He'd grown so bitter over those years, from Kidou's absence to Fudou's, and only because of Miyabino and Fudou's return with Hakuryuu had that anger started to dissolve.
What they had now was pretty fragile, but roots could still take hold. They could rebuild what they'd lost.
It's not something Sakuma gets his hopes up too much for, though. After all, he's the one who's always left behind. He'll be the one standing still, like he always has.]
They believe in Teikoku's soccer. I just show them the path as I know it.
[Fudou doesn't argue against Sakuma. Really, he hasn't been argumentative about anything since his return to Japan, and when his eyes flicker up from his food to that piercing brown eye, his blue ones gaze at him through slightly furrowed brows. Fudou's eyes, once wide and ready to mock, now carried more of a searching, pensive look.
Europe had provided him an escape. Europe had also provided him years of isolation from the past with plenty of time to think, and when he looked at Sakuma, those thoughts always rose to the surface. But he keeps chewing his food to keep them at bay.]
... I watched some of Japan's soccer while I was in Europe, too. Middle school soccer.
Teikoku's soccer under you, even if with the Sector around, was always impressive.
[Something twitches on Sakuma's lips, a small light trying to be snuffed out by the darkness of the man's colder demeanor. A smile, however faint, but quickly extinguished for fear of what that smile could lead to. He'd been hurt enough and shouldered with enough burden between the Kidou Corp and Teikoku. And while he didn't exactly HATE the work (he loved it, deep down), it was the way he felt trapped by it when others with more obligation to it were free to walk that made him feel like he was meant to be stuck in this cage. At first glance, it's a cold shut down of an emotion, but looking further in, there's the hint of a damaged heart now shielding itself with as many spikes as it can manage to protect itself from shattering completely.
He tries not to sound overly pleased as he answers, but anyone who knew Sakuma well enough knows when he's bluffing. In actuality, he could talk for hours about his team, and how they seemed to follow him and his orders with undying loyalty.
'Commander Kidou's soccer' was not entirely false, but it certainly wasn't entirely true, either. It's the answer he gives, though, reluctantly curbing is enthusiasm for the moment.]
Commander Kidou's soccer takes the best of Teikoku and puts it to its limits. And the kids themselves are the ones who mastered Koutei Penguin 7.
I...we only provided what was necessary for them to complete it.
Commander Kidou's only been working with Teikoku for -- what? Two or three months?
[He tried to be careful with Sakuma. He was on thin ice, and he did not have any right to say what was right or what was wrong about the way this man lived his life (if it could be called living at all). As far as he was concerned, he played a great role in stranding him on a path that led to this present, and all he could do -- the least he could do -- was try to dig Sakuma's out of this dark, endless cave.
But there were some things he had to put his foot down about.]
This best of Teikoku exists 'cause someone took over and did all the hard work while the guy was off in Italy taking credit for shit he didn't do. The kids mastered 7, sure, but the one who created it, and the one who paved the path and built up Teikoku's strength thus far?
[An outburst he catches himself saying, catching his own tone and immediately pulling it back as quickly as it'd come out. It was true, though...he loved Kidou for all he'd done, all he'd accomplished, and for giving him a reason to stand on his own two legs again. A man he'd watched leave Teikoku more than once and leaving him behind to hold the fort in his place. And in that very same place...he'd found Fudou, another friend he found himself almost inseparable to...
Someone who also left Teikoku, and even Japan while leaving him still rooted here.
Fudou's words continue, and Sakuma falls into silence as he listens, having no more objections for the moment. There's idle stirring of his rice, listening to Fudou's harsh, but true words. Even Miyabino, who had always said it was Kidou's soccer, always looked to Sakuma when he said it. And Fudou's compliments hit him in much the same way.
It's confusing, and it makes his heart race just thinking about the idea that he had been a driving force for what Teikoku was. He'd always been so quick to default to giving Kidou the credit. He didn't mind it, he told himself. Kidou was the mastermind behind a lot of things both on and off the field. But maybe a small...small dark part of himself wished he would be the one who was praised.]
Yeah, well, I don't just say things for the sake of friendship.
[Fudou sets his own chopsticks down, leaning back in the chair some and running a hand through his hair with a sigh. It's not as coarse and dry as it used to be after the child at his apartment handed him some actual, proper shampoo. Now it was fluffier, and he appreciated those additional health points, but now it made it impossible to keep from falling in his face. Oh well.]
... And that goes both ways. I mean what I say.
Maybe Kidou's the name that's on all the papers and he's the one the media pisses its pants over, anyone who knows anything can see that you're the one that's been running the show.
I watched some of their practice earlier this week too. They listen to you well.
[He'd half expected it to be a joke, some sneering comment about how Sakuma had done well...for a trainer. But no, Fudou never did say anything for friendship or just to be nice. He either meant it or he didn't, and that's the part that gets Sakuma the most as he shoves rice into his mouth, buying himself some time before he hast to confront that.
An awful decision, really. It only gave him time to consider how that made him feel, his heart encased in ice deep down starting to thaw as if Fudou had put a match up to its frozen prison. Deep down, he wants to fight it. Shove away that comment and continue to live in the darkness he made for himself.
But that light was so tempting....
He stands up abruptly, chopsticks laid across that takeout container and hands pushing himself out of his seat.]
I should go.
[It's frantic, almost comical, how hurriedly he grabs his jacket and walks out that door, closing it behind him.
[And just like that, Fudou is left behind, stranded in the office with not just the food Sakuma left unfinished but his work as well, the last few pages of a document he'd been reading through but has now abandoned, stacked just a little haphazardly away from the food.
The door clicks shut with the softest tone of finality, and Fudou
sighs.]
This is your goddamn office, Sakuma...
[Well, time to clean up the food and put it in that mini fridge and maybe he can take care of the last of those papers. He could probably figure out a way to lock the door, and he'll just have to message Hakuryuu before he headed out.]
[A revelation Sakuma had too as soon as he got outside of Teikoku's doors. His body stops dead in its tracks, knowing full well he'd left Fudou all alone in his office with no key to lock up and all that food to put away. Food Fudou had offered to share with him...gotten FOR him...
A part of him's too embarrassed to got back up there. He could only imagine the smile on Fudou's face when he'd walk up, tail in between his legs and flustered beyond belief. But another part of him knows he's an adult, and these are the kinds of things he tossed away from himself as a child. To still get flustered over that man and what he said already proved he had not grown up as much as he wished he did. Those old feelings resurfaced far too quickly, and far too vigorously. He's internally grateful for his dark complexion--it was able to hide that deep flush of red on his cheeks as he marched stiffly back in, up the elevator and down the hall back towards the classroom he'd called his office.
He turns the corner down the long corridor that marked his office.]
[Fudou is not, in fact, gone. He looks up calmly when he hears Sakuma come back inside, the boxes of food already packed and put away in the fridge, dropping Sakuma's pen into its stand as a last part of his clean-up. The papers that weren't a mess but still pushed aside to accommodate the food are now spread in neatly organized stacks -- kept weighted down so they wouldn't get blown away by any gust of air -- and Sakuma's briefcase, forgotten also, is sitting on the couch in the meeting area next to Fudou's own jacket with the intention of dropping it off at the man's place after.
But all that's unnecessary now, he supposes, since the owner of the office is now back. He regards him neutrally, not a trace of a smirk or smile on his face.]
Oh, good, you're back. I was wondering what I was gonna have to do with the lock.
[His breath stops short once Fudou speaks, suddenly unable to really meet his gaze as a finger combs that long stray strand that didn't quite meet the length of the rest of his hair behind his ear. But what his eye does fall on are the organized papers, the way dinner was cleaned up (probably the only part he expected that would actually be picked and put away), the way his office should have always looked at the end of each day, but Sakuma often kept telling himself he'd organize when his workload was less.
A day that never usually came.
The frozen heart covered in thorns softens, knowing it would only be Fudou who would have done this for him, eye tracing along until it trails up Fudou's arm to meet his face, searching for any kind of an answer that could explain just why he had done this.
He did kind of abandon the man in his office after all.
His throat clears, swallowing hard as he answers, voice quivering with just the slightest bit of breathlessness.] I keep a spare in my desk.
[There's no bite to that remark, walking his way over to get the briefcase, and although his lips don't say a word (yet) about the hard work Fudou had done, it's more than obvious that he notices, and even more obvious how touched he is.]
Not that you would have known that...[A slight chuckle.] I can't believe I just left you here.
I don't mind. Probably would've just waited until security came by.
[Whatever time that would've been. Fudou straightens up from the desk with an exhale and a stretch, running his hand through his hair to get the unruly mess out of his face.]
Well, either way, you're back for your stuff, and I think you can get going home today. For once, because I know you crash here sometimes. I saw some stuff you finished working on but needed to mail out and put 'em all in envelopes here. [He pats a small stack sitting in a now-cleared up tray that had once lost its function as an Outbox months ago.]
And put away your folders and threw out some dead pens.
[He freezes, eye wide and staring at him as if Fudou had suddenly started claiming that Santa Claus was real and love at first sight was a scientific fact. Sure, he could buy that Fudou had tidied up the place--something he was eternally grateful for (how long had it been since he could place a mug at his desk without moving something?), but him willing to send out papers for him? Him finding out that his stay sometimes meant overnight? Consider him a deer caught in the headlights, hand immediately brushing some of the bangs out of his eye and looping it behind his ear. A moot effort, as it wasn't long enough to be kept there and only falls back right into the place it was before.]
Sometimes it's easier than bringing work home, is all.
[He smiles, thumbing the edge of that case.]
Guess I won't need to tonight...Thank you, for doing all of that. [For something as simple as throwing away dead pens or putting a folder in a filing cabinet, it was a relief. Something he didn't have to think to do later.]
[Fudou has walked around the desk while Sakuma was stupefied, and now he's standing next to him, head tilted down to meet his gaze from a few inches above, one hand picking up Sakuma's briefcase and his own jacket, throwing the latter over his shoulder and tucking the former under his arm. His free hand reaches up, landing on Sakuma's head to pat it once -- twice -- before he realizes what he's doing and pulls back quickly.
Embarrassing.
But he doesn't even need to take a breath before he regains the composure he didn't even lose, lips curling up in a smile that's as smirk-like as it once was but infinitely softer than twelve years ago.]
Need a ride? I know you've got a car but I've got something you might find interesting.
[Had anyone else done such a thing, they might be looking at their arm twisted behind their back, one singular, angry golden eye boreing deep into their soul and making them question their actions within the past ten seconds, and if said seconds were worth it. He would have elbowed them, some form of retaliation for disrespect like that, as from anyone else, it would have been condescending.
But Fudou wasn't anyone else, and his eye widens, realizing all too well just how close they are, and how tall Fudou had gotten over the years.
His hand, already held up to grab that wrist but stopped only a few inches from where it had originally rested, moves to adjust his tie. Had the air conditioning in the school turned off? It was suddenly so warm...]
I--
[Fudou's sentence catches his attention, taking this moment to grab a folder he'd meant to bring home and open the briefcase a crack--all while Fudou was still holding it.]
Something -I- might find interesting? You seem pretty confident.
[There, that tone was a lot easier than the soft, inquisitive one he'd only had just a few moments ago.]
[Fudou, left unharmed despite his dangerous thoughtless act, only moves to hold out the case so Sakuma could access it more easily. His own blue eyes are watching Sakuma with an almost curious look, wide and cat-like as the other man's head bobs up and down near his shoulder level.]
[After slipping that folder in, he closes the case once more and steps back, moving to adjust his hair out of nervous habit.]
Mmm?
Well now I'm curious.
[He can't hide that small, budding smile on his lips, whittled own to giving in to this mystery that Fudou wanted to show him.]
Lead the way. Let's see this 'something' I'd get a kick out of.
[He can't even think of what Fudou would want to show him, honestly. The man was such an enigma, even now, ten years since they'd reconciled the first time in middle school, and only a couple of months after they'd made amends yet again.
[With consent gained, Fudou mirrors the smile before he starts walking, his feet carrying him with no hesitation down halls that were once familiar and a place he called home.
He still remembers, over ten years ago, when he was packing up his bags after FFI and Kidou came up to him to ask if he'd ever consider transferring to Teikoku. That the Kidou would handle the finances."It's not a handout," Kidou had said with eyes glinting behind his goggles before Fudou could even open his mouth to protest, and that had been that. He was moved into the dormitories as soon as they were back in Japan, and in Tokyo he'd ended up staying for the next four years.
As much as he liked to give Kidou Yuuto crap (especially around Sakuma), he could never deny that the boy who once seemed to have everything he couldn't was a man he owed a lot of what he had now to.
But the reminiscence only lasts a few minutes, as that familiar path takes them through the school and they end up in the parking garage at back, mostly empty now as everyone else had gone home. The only cars left are those of the security guard, Sakuma--
and a lone motorcycle standing in a corner away from the two. The only one that usually isn't in this area.]
[It's a feeling they both share. Kidou Yuuto, as delightfully frustrating as he could be, and as much as he'd torn his hair out wanting to be noticed as more than just a good friend and lieutenant, he owed quite a bit of his successes to him, as well as his life.
Shin Teikoku seemed so distant now, but it was a very real reality that he knows he owes to Endou and Kidou. He might not even be standing were that not the case.
He also owes him for Fudou sticking around--as he had been one of the people to protest his leave after FFI, told Fudou that the should stay in the dorms with the rest of them. In the end, he yielded.
And began a bond much stronger than he could have ever imagined. One that--even strained as much as it was, held firm over ten years. Fudou had come back and opened his arms. And Sakuma...as cautious as he was, still came back to them.
It pissed him off so much.
He bites his lip while shaking those thoughts out of his head, moving down to the parking lot and immediately spotting his car--the only one left in the lot. That is...aside from one lone motorcycle off to the side, parked in the far corner, almost diagonal from where his car was.
Yeah. I got it off some guy I knew from high school who wanted to sell it to get a new one.
[He makes his way over to it as he answers, inspecting the bike carefully to make sure it was going to function. It wasn't so old that it posed such a danger and he'd already had work done on it before, but Fudou took no chances, especially when he was going to be putting someone else on it. The bike has a compartment box that he opens up now, pulling out a pair of helmets and holding one out toward Sakuma, along with a hairtie he's pulled from around his wrist.]
I didn't plan on being in Japan for long so I didn't want to bother with a car or paying for the parking space. When it's just me and Hakuryuu, this is usually enough.
They're definitely a cheaper option, and a lot easier to take care of when you've got other priorities.
[You can't tell unless you've known Sakuma as long as Fudou has, but there's an air of pride in that. Fudou had time and time again shown just how much he'd changed from the middle-to-high school boy he knew, those eyes that held such a thirst for power now relaxed and gentle, despite how sharp they looked.
It certainly didn't help Sakuma's own situation, that's for sure. But it was one, like many things, thrust on his life that he had to adapt to.
...
Another wrench thrown into that path when Fudou offers the helmet and the hair tie to him.]
Mm?
Ah--[Something inside him instinctively reaches out to grab both, despite looking over at his car, as if he should immediately be walking towards that.]
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What you teach him you can see as he grows. You're more than just a coach or a trainer, you're what he looks to put on the field. It's a little more personal than playing professional, I think.
We never had anyone quite like that...but it feels good seeing your own efforts show in the ones you teach. Miyabino...he knows Teikoku soccer better than anyone. It's something I'm proud of him for.
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[He pokes at his food idly with the chopsticks, not sure how to respond to Sakuma's comment about Hakuryuu. He knows the boy cared about him, and he knows that they've warmed up to each other significantly over the last few weeks. Hakuryuu relaxed more in that apartment, moving about more freely and less silently, but when someone says it out loud like that...]
When I watch that kid talk to you, it makes me think of Endou back during FFI when he talked to Coach Kudou or Hibiki. I think it's a lot more personal for you and him than you're putting it, too.
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He wanted to be like someone he himself held in such high esteem.
But there's doubt there. Like he can't truly take that compliment without admitting to his many, many faults.]
Maybe.
It seems like we've both found someone like that in our lives. It's a challenge in its own right.
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[Sakuma doesn't accept the compliment, but Fudou doesn't push it onto him. He stuffs a few more pieces of food into his mouth, chewing quietly. One would say that the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Fudou doesn't mind it so much. At least it exists. At least Sakuma let it exist again, after he cut it off the way he did.]
You're doing that with hundreds of kids here, and they answer to you.
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What they had now was pretty fragile, but roots could still take hold. They could rebuild what they'd lost.
It's not something Sakuma gets his hopes up too much for, though. After all, he's the one who's always left behind. He'll be the one standing still, like he always has.]
They believe in Teikoku's soccer. I just show them the path as I know it.
[And then, a bit softer.]
After all, we both know what it's not.
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[Fudou doesn't argue against Sakuma. Really, he hasn't been argumentative about anything since his return to Japan, and when his eyes flicker up from his food to that piercing brown eye, his blue ones gaze at him through slightly furrowed brows. Fudou's eyes, once wide and ready to mock, now carried more of a searching, pensive look.
Europe had provided him an escape. Europe had also provided him years of isolation from the past with plenty of time to think, and when he looked at Sakuma, those thoughts always rose to the surface. But he keeps chewing his food to keep them at bay.]
... I watched some of Japan's soccer while I was in Europe, too. Middle school soccer.
Teikoku's soccer under you, even if with the Sector around, was always impressive.
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He tries not to sound overly pleased as he answers, but anyone who knew Sakuma well enough knows when he's bluffing. In actuality, he could talk for hours about his team, and how they seemed to follow him and his orders with undying loyalty.
'Commander Kidou's soccer' was not entirely false, but it certainly wasn't entirely true, either. It's the answer he gives, though, reluctantly curbing is enthusiasm for the moment.]
Commander Kidou's soccer takes the best of Teikoku and puts it to its limits. And the kids themselves are the ones who mastered Koutei Penguin 7.
I...we only provided what was necessary for them to complete it.
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[He tried to be careful with Sakuma. He was on thin ice, and he did not have any right to say what was right or what was wrong about the way this man lived his life (if it could be called living at all). As far as he was concerned, he played a great role in stranding him on a path that led to this present, and all he could do -- the least he could do -- was try to dig Sakuma's out of this dark, endless cave.
But there were some things he had to put his foot down about.]
This best of Teikoku exists 'cause someone took over and did all the hard work while the guy was off in Italy taking credit for shit he didn't do. The kids mastered 7, sure, but the one who created it, and the one who paved the path and built up Teikoku's strength thus far?
That was you, Sakuma.
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[An outburst he catches himself saying, catching his own tone and immediately pulling it back as quickly as it'd come out. It was true, though...he loved Kidou for all he'd done, all he'd accomplished, and for giving him a reason to stand on his own two legs again. A man he'd watched leave Teikoku more than once and leaving him behind to hold the fort in his place. And in that very same place...he'd found Fudou, another friend he found himself almost inseparable to...
Someone who also left Teikoku, and even Japan while leaving him still rooted here.
Fudou's words continue, and Sakuma falls into silence as he listens, having no more objections for the moment. There's idle stirring of his rice, listening to Fudou's harsh, but true words. Even Miyabino, who had always said it was Kidou's soccer, always looked to Sakuma when he said it. And Fudou's compliments hit him in much the same way.
It's confusing, and it makes his heart race just thinking about the idea that he had been a driving force for what Teikoku was. He'd always been so quick to default to giving Kidou the credit. He didn't mind it, he told himself. Kidou was the mastermind behind a lot of things both on and off the field. But maybe a small...small dark part of himself wished he would be the one who was praised.]
Do you...really mean that?
[It slips out before he can stop himself.]
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[Fudou sets his own chopsticks down, leaning back in the chair some and running a hand through his hair with a sigh. It's not as coarse and dry as it used to be after the child at his apartment handed him some actual, proper shampoo. Now it was fluffier, and he appreciated those additional health points, but now it made it impossible to keep from falling in his face. Oh well.]
... And that goes both ways. I mean what I say.
Maybe Kidou's the name that's on all the papers and he's the one the media pisses its pants over, anyone who knows anything can see that you're the one that's been running the show.
I watched some of their practice earlier this week too. They listen to you well.
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[He'd half expected it to be a joke, some sneering comment about how Sakuma had done well...for a trainer. But no, Fudou never did say anything for friendship or just to be nice. He either meant it or he didn't, and that's the part that gets Sakuma the most as he shoves rice into his mouth, buying himself some time before he hast to confront that.
An awful decision, really. It only gave him time to consider how that made him feel, his heart encased in ice deep down starting to thaw as if Fudou had put a match up to its frozen prison. Deep down, he wants to fight it. Shove away that comment and continue to live in the darkness he made for himself.
But that light was so tempting....
He stands up abruptly, chopsticks laid across that takeout container and hands pushing himself out of his seat.]
I should go.
[It's frantic, almost comical, how hurriedly he grabs his jacket and walks out that door, closing it behind him.
Sorry Fudou.]
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[And just like that, Fudou is left behind, stranded in the office with not just the food Sakuma left unfinished but his work as well, the last few pages of a document he'd been reading through but has now abandoned, stacked just a little haphazardly away from the food.
The door clicks shut with the softest tone of finality, and Fudou
sighs.]
This is your goddamn office, Sakuma...
[Well, time to clean up the food and put it in that mini fridge and maybe he can take care of the last of those papers. He could probably figure out a way to lock the door, and he'll just have to message Hakuryuu before he headed out.]
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A part of him's too embarrassed to got back up there. He could only imagine the smile on Fudou's face when he'd walk up, tail in between his legs and flustered beyond belief. But another part of him knows he's an adult, and these are the kinds of things he tossed away from himself as a child. To still get flustered over that man and what he said already proved he had not grown up as much as he wished he did. Those old feelings resurfaced far too quickly, and far too vigorously. He's internally grateful for his dark complexion--it was able to hide that deep flush of red on his cheeks as he marched stiffly back in, up the elevator and down the hall back towards the classroom he'd called his office.
He turns the corner down the long corridor that marked his office.]
Fudou I--
[Maybe he'd be gone by then. Who knows.]
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[Fudou is not, in fact, gone. He looks up calmly when he hears Sakuma come back inside, the boxes of food already packed and put away in the fridge, dropping Sakuma's pen into its stand as a last part of his clean-up. The papers that weren't a mess but still pushed aside to accommodate the food are now spread in neatly organized stacks -- kept weighted down so they wouldn't get blown away by any gust of air -- and Sakuma's briefcase, forgotten also, is sitting on the couch in the meeting area next to Fudou's own jacket with the intention of dropping it off at the man's place after.
But all that's unnecessary now, he supposes, since the owner of the office is now back. He regards him neutrally, not a trace of a smirk or smile on his face.]
Oh, good, you're back. I was wondering what I was gonna have to do with the lock.
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A day that never usually came.
The frozen heart covered in thorns softens, knowing it would only be Fudou who would have done this for him, eye tracing along until it trails up Fudou's arm to meet his face, searching for any kind of an answer that could explain just why he had done this.
He did kind of abandon the man in his office after all.
His throat clears, swallowing hard as he answers, voice quivering with just the slightest bit of breathlessness.] I keep a spare in my desk.
[There's no bite to that remark, walking his way over to get the briefcase, and although his lips don't say a word (yet) about the hard work Fudou had done, it's more than obvious that he notices, and even more obvious how touched he is.]
Not that you would have known that...[A slight chuckle.] I can't believe I just left you here.
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[Whatever time that would've been. Fudou straightens up from the desk with an exhale and a stretch, running his hand through his hair to get the unruly mess out of his face.]
Well, either way, you're back for your stuff, and I think you can get going home today. For once, because I know you crash here sometimes. I saw some stuff you finished working on but needed to mail out and put 'em all in envelopes here. [He pats a small stack sitting in a now-cleared up tray that had once lost its function as an Outbox months ago.]
And put away your folders and threw out some dead pens.
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[He freezes, eye wide and staring at him as if Fudou had suddenly started claiming that Santa Claus was real and love at first sight was a scientific fact. Sure, he could buy that Fudou had tidied up the place--something he was eternally grateful for (how long had it been since he could place a mug at his desk without moving something?), but him willing to send out papers for him? Him finding out that his stay sometimes meant overnight? Consider him a deer caught in the headlights, hand immediately brushing some of the bangs out of his eye and looping it behind his ear. A moot effort, as it wasn't long enough to be kept there and only falls back right into the place it was before.]
Sometimes it's easier than bringing work home, is all.
[He smiles, thumbing the edge of that case.]
Guess I won't need to tonight...Thank you, for doing all of that. [For something as simple as throwing away dead pens or putting a folder in a filing cabinet, it was a relief. Something he didn't have to think to do later.]
Come, I'll walk you out.
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Embarrassing.
But he doesn't even need to take a breath before he regains the composure he didn't even lose, lips curling up in a smile that's as smirk-like as it once was but infinitely softer than twelve years ago.]
Need a ride? I know you've got a car but I've got something you might find interesting.
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But Fudou wasn't anyone else, and his eye widens, realizing all too well just how close they are, and how tall Fudou had gotten over the years.
His hand, already held up to grab that wrist but stopped only a few inches from where it had originally rested, moves to adjust his tie. Had the air conditioning in the school turned off? It was suddenly so warm...]
I--
[Fudou's sentence catches his attention, taking this moment to grab a folder he'd meant to bring home and open the briefcase a crack--all while Fudou was still holding it.]
Something -I- might find interesting? You seem pretty confident.
[There, that tone was a lot easier than the soft, inquisitive one he'd only had just a few moments ago.]
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[Fudou, left unharmed despite his dangerous thoughtless act, only moves to hold out the case so Sakuma could access it more easily. His own blue eyes are watching Sakuma with an almost curious look, wide and cat-like as the other man's head bobs up and down near his shoulder level.]
You'll probably get a kick out of it.
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Mmm?
Well now I'm curious.
[He can't hide that small, budding smile on his lips, whittled own to giving in to this mystery that Fudou wanted to show him.]
Lead the way. Let's see this 'something' I'd get a kick out of.
[He can't even think of what Fudou would want to show him, honestly. The man was such an enigma, even now, ten years since they'd reconciled the first time in middle school, and only a couple of months after they'd made amends yet again.
Nothing was certain.]
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He still remembers, over ten years ago, when he was packing up his bags after FFI and Kidou came up to him to ask if he'd ever consider transferring to Teikoku. That the Kidou would handle the finances."It's not a handout," Kidou had said with eyes glinting behind his goggles before Fudou could even open his mouth to protest, and that had been that. He was moved into the dormitories as soon as they were back in Japan, and in Tokyo he'd ended up staying for the next four years.
As much as he liked to give Kidou Yuuto crap (especially around Sakuma), he could never deny that the boy who once seemed to have everything he couldn't was a man he owed a lot of what he had now to.
But the reminiscence only lasts a few minutes, as that familiar path takes them through the school and they end up in the parking garage at back, mostly empty now as everyone else had gone home. The only cars left are those of the security guard, Sakuma--
and a lone motorcycle standing in a corner away from the two. The only one that usually isn't in this area.]
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Shin Teikoku seemed so distant now, but it was a very real reality that he knows he owes to Endou and Kidou. He might not even be standing were that not the case.
He also owes him for Fudou sticking around--as he had been one of the people to protest his leave after FFI, told Fudou that the should stay in the dorms with the rest of them. In the end, he yielded.
And began a bond much stronger than he could have ever imagined. One that--even strained as much as it was, held firm over ten years. Fudou had come back and opened his arms. And Sakuma...as cautious as he was, still came back to them.
It pissed him off so much.
He bites his lip while shaking those thoughts out of his head, moving down to the parking lot and immediately spotting his car--the only one left in the lot. That is...aside from one lone motorcycle off to the side, parked in the far corner, almost diagonal from where his car was.
...
It clicks.]
Fudou.
You drive a-?
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[He makes his way over to it as he answers, inspecting the bike carefully to make sure it was going to function. It wasn't so old that it posed such a danger and he'd already had work done on it before, but Fudou took no chances, especially when he was going to be putting someone else on it. The bike has a compartment box that he opens up now, pulling out a pair of helmets and holding one out toward Sakuma, along with a hairtie he's pulled from around his wrist.]
I didn't plan on being in Japan for long so I didn't want to bother with a car or paying for the parking space. When it's just me and Hakuryuu, this is usually enough.
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[You can't tell unless you've known Sakuma as long as Fudou has, but there's an air of pride in that. Fudou had time and time again shown just how much he'd changed from the middle-to-high school boy he knew, those eyes that held such a thirst for power now relaxed and gentle, despite how sharp they looked.
It certainly didn't help Sakuma's own situation, that's for sure. But it was one, like many things, thrust on his life that he had to adapt to.
...
Another wrench thrown into that path when Fudou offers the helmet and the hair tie to him.]
Mm?
Ah--[Something inside him instinctively reaches out to grab both, despite looking over at his car, as if he should immediately be walking towards that.]
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