Twenty-Five

Kaho made her way up to class 2B, where a familiar face had reclaimed his seat in the front room. Kobayashi Hikaru had come back to Hanagawa High School after being absent for almost two weeks in the fallout of Sayuri's disappearance. 

"Hikaru!" Kaho exclaimed, "Hey!" 

He winced, spinning on his heel, posture tense. He relaxed when he met Kaho's kind brown eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned his gaze away sheepishly, "Hey, Kaho, long time no see." 

"Long time yourself, how are you?" 

"I'm er, okay? I think. Weird being accused of murder, you know." 

Kaho hummed and rummaged in her bag, producing a mango and offering it to him. He took it, licked his lips and bit straight into the mango. Juice squirted from the flesh, trickling down his chin. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and chewed, bobbing his head happily as the fruit grew pulpous between his teeth. He swallowed his mouthful, "Thanks Kaho." 

"No problem!" Kaho said, putting a mango on Naseru's desk and one in front of his table, Sayuri's desk. 

"She's not coming back yet," Hikaru said, "What's with the mangoes anyway." 

"Don't ask," Kaho laughed, "A truck filled with them was in an accident. All the fruit had to be written off as unsellable. My brother grabbed three boxes from the roadside."

"Coach Aigawa is such a weirdo." 

Kaho laughed, "I'll catch you later, okay?"

Hikaru nodded, returning to his mango. 

"Oh, and Hikaru?" 

He lifted his head, more mango juice oozing from the fruit and down his face. 

"Good to have you back." 

He gave her a thumbs up and returned to the fruit. Kaho headed down the hall to 2A. Kikiyo was waiting for her outside, leaning on the doorway, a scowl on her face. 

"What was that for yesterday, Kaho! Bringing your mum to my house? Having her poking about, sticking her nose in! We're fine! Everything is fine!" 

Kaho frowned, "I thought you said you were going to take the help." 

"Yeah! Me! I will accept the help. Leave Ichigo and the boys out of it! They don't understand." Kikiyo reared her hand back and slapped Kaho across the face. The sound echoed through the empty hallway. Kikiyo's eyes were streaming with hot, angry tears. Kaho's eyes burned with tears too. 

"What was that for?" 

"Don't you get it," Kikiyo cried, "They stayed up all night crying for their Mum. They stayed up all night because you and your mum got it in their heads she's coming home!" 

Kikiyo froze, her knees buckled. She put her hands over her mouth, like she could put the words back between her teeth. 

Suddenly the handprint on Kaho's cheek didn't hurt. Kaho took a step toward her friend and opened her eyes to her. Kikiyo collapsed into her eyes, sobbing into the fabric of her friend's blazer. Kaho held her close as Kikiyo bawled. 

"When?" Kaho whispered, "How long have you and your sister been holding it together?" 

Kikiyo wiped her eyes on her sleeve, "She left during summer break. Hajime left before that. Said he lost his job. Mum said it was because he was a pathetic alcoholic. I just – I never expected her to run away. She's my Mum. She's my Mum!"

Kaho squeezed Kikiyo tight, smoothing her long, silky black hair, "She didn't deserve you, or your sister, or either of those little boys. We'll work something out." 

Kikiyo sniffled. She took rummaged in her blazer and handed Kaho a piece of paper. Four phone numbers: Three attributed to Jijis with different surnames, and her father's given name. Her biological father. 

"Ichigo and I went to the family registers and got the contact details for our relatives. But Hajime's mum has dementia and his dad is taking care of her, and Mum's parents are on holiday overseas. Their dog sitter answered last time I called them. We thought we could outlast it but-" Kikiyo's breath hitched, "The rent is due next week." 

The blood drained from Kaho's face. Rent. Kaho hadn't even thought about rent. 

"Did your mum leave anything?" Kaho asked as the warning bell trilled. 

Kikiyo shook her head, "Not even a note."

Kaho swore and squeezed her friend's hand, "We'll work something out, okay? I promise."

In the hallway, Kaho sent a text to her mum, asking her to call her dad that evening. Kikiyo was fending for herself. Her mother was in the wind. It was urgent. Mrs Aigawa was going to be furious. Her father, too, probably. Her parents didn't speak on the phone often because of the time difference. But this was important.

Naseru was one of the last to class, a bright orange mango sat on his desk. He furrowed his brows, looking over his shoulders at his classmates. None had a guilty expression on their faces, most looked equally as confused. Or, amused. After all, it was a mango.

"Hey," Naseru said, leaning forward in his chair, "Kobayashi."

Hikaru turned his head and raised his brows, "Hi, Matsuoka?" Hikaru said, elongating each syllable of Naseru's name, uncertainly. 

Naseru nodded and Hikaru relaxed. His eyes flickered from Naseru to the mango and to someone sitting behind him. 

"Uh, welcome back," Naseru said, slumping back in his chair. 

"Thanks," Hikaru said, holding his fist out to Naseru. He didn't bump it. Hikaru shrugged and turned back to the front. 

They had gym class again today, and the dreaded hour in a stinking basketball gym was drawing closer like a bad omen. He dragged his feet to the court, one of the last in the gym. Coach Taiga had already chosen team captains for the day's lessons, and, just like last week, he had allocated a captain position to the rosy-haired Ryota. He stood with a ball tucked under his arm, wearing a canary yellow bib over his gym shirt. Three of his teammates were beside him, wearing different coloured bibs. 

Naseru was picked by one of the other captains, and resisted the magnetism of squeaking shoes against waxed courts. He remained under the hoop, a lazy centre, and watched other kids play. He could see the players that were probably on the Hanagawa team, they dribbled with precision, going low and moved with a jerky succinctness, and didn't get too downtrodden when ballsy shots failed. He watched Eiji, one of his classmates shoot a three from the outside, right by the offside boundary, having been boxed in. The ball bounced off the basket and into another court, but instead of sulking like Naseru thought he might, the boy laughed. He laughed.

When Coach Aigawa blew the whistle for the teams to change, Naseru winced. Ryota stood in front of him. He pointed his long, bony finger at him and smirked. 

"Don't think I'm going to let you take the lazy route." 

Naseru's eye twitched, "I'll show you lazy, slacker." 

Ryota's mouth fell open in a little 'o'. He ground his teeth and waited for Taiga to toss the ball on the tip-off. Ryota snagged it and passed the ball behind him to one of the other second-years on the basketball team, Yamada. 

Yamada dribbled the ball, weaving his way through the other players on Naseru's team. A few rushed to block him, so Yamada attempted a hook shot. The ark was too high and soared over the net, straight into Ryota's waiting hands. He jumped to shoot the ball and Naseru blocked the ball. It bounced off his palm and rolled across the court. 

The boys scrambled across the court to retrieve the ball. One of Naseru's teammates managed, just about to grab it before it rolled out of bounds. He passed it into the fray, staggering off the court, rightening himself and getting back to it. Naseru jumped and caught the ball, letting out a slow steady breath before jumping up again and shooting a three pointer. 

Ryota tried to jump up and alter its course. But it was too late. He released the ball. 

"You know," Ryota panted, as the three-pointer landed, "You really should join the basketball team." 

"I'm not going to do that," Naseru bit back, going on the defensive, immediately. His steps backwards were measured as he followed each careful stride Ryota took toward centre court, bouncing the ball between his hands teasingly.

Ryota grinned, stomping his foot to the left, a feint, before veering to the right. He then scooped the ball between his legs in an attempt to switch hands. He dropped it. Naseru's teammate passed the ball back to him. 

Naseru charged forward in a quick attack, going from a slow hanging dribble up to a faster pace. He jerked up and scored another jump shot. Another successful basket. 

And another. And another. 

Ryota wiped the sweat off his brow, grinning, teeth bared. He held his hand out to Naseru for him to shake. But, instead of shaking it, Naseru turned his head and walked away. 

"What a douchebag," Ryota muttered. 

Eiji slung an arm around Ryota's shoulder and shrugged, "You'll get him next time."