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Saburo shoves his phone in his jacket pocket, hot tears pricking at his eyes. It would be so easy to get what he wants, just a few words of explanation, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He never skips class. He could, if he wanted, but he’s a good student and only misses class when he has doctors appointments or rap stuff. Not because he just doesn’t want to.
Well. It’s not just that he doesn’t want to.
All day, he’s heard people whispering as he walks by in the halls. They thought he couldn’t hear, but he had been listening to every single word. How he was the reason he and his brothers didn’t make it to the finals. How he was the team's weakest link, and there was no reason other than pity for him to be a part of Buster Bros!!!.
Objectively, Saburo knows this isn’t true. But now, standing outside the door to his math class, knowing he doesn’t have a single friend in the room, it weighs down on him. He’s usually fine with solitude. Today, it feels isolating. Oppressive.
So he texted Ichiro, asking to come home while a lump formed in his throat. Ichiro said no. That should have been the end of it.
He knows, logically, that if he just explains how the idea of sitting through an hour of algebra while his classmates gossipped about the DRB and how he had fallen so easily, live, on stage with the whole country watching, he might puke— Ichiro would understand. Let him come home, probably watch a movie or play a board game with him. Tell him he can talk to him.
His vulnerabilities had already been broadcasted to all of Japan. He doesn’t want to point them out to his older brother, too.
This leaves him with one option, one he doesn’t usually use anymore. Still. He swallows thickly and pulls his phone back out.
Saburo: Jiro-nii
Saburo: Are you in class right now?
Jiro: nice try narc
Saburo: Jiro I want to skip with you
Jiro: ?
Jiro: since literally when
Saburo: are you coming or not
Jiro: yah gimme a few minutes
Jiro: meet u at the store?
Saburo: 👍
Saburo doesn’t go to math class, just barely sneaking away before the teacher makes it to the classroom. If he’d gotten caught, he probably would have been too embarrassed to leave. The store Jiro asked to meet at wasn’t too far, only about a ten minute walk from both of their schools.
Jiro’s already leaning against the wall when Saburo gets there. Because of course he is. He doesn’t notice Saburo approaching, completely focused on something on his phone. Soccer highlights, by the sound of it.
Saburo approaches slowly, keeping his steps light so as to not alert Jiro of his presence. He’s close enough now he can see the video playing over Jiro’s shoulder. He pauses for a moment, waiting for the perfect time to strike.
Jiro jumps as Saburo snatches his phone out of his hand. His hand immediately flies to his jacket pocket, where Saburo knows he keeps his mic.
The shock on his face fades into annoyance when he sees Saburo. “Seriously?”
Saburo sticks his tongue out at him. “Pay more attention to your surroundings, idiot.”
“Give me my phone back!”
Saburo rolls his eyes, but does it anyway. He’s not particularly in the mood to antagonize Jiro anymore, anyways. He’s had his fun. Jiro apparently notices his sour mood, narrowing his eyes at him. Saburo braces himself.
“Alright, spill,” he says. ‘What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Yes there is. If nothing was wrong, you would’ve called me a dog or a monkey or something instead of actually listening to me for once.”
“My insults are more creative than that…” Saburo mutters.
“Exactly!”
A pause.
“I know something’s up.”
Saburo leans against the wall where Jiro had been earlier. He doesn’t really want to talk about it, in all honesty. It would probably help, but if he won’t talk about it to Ichiro he refuses to talk about it to Jiro. Just on principle.
Jiro pulls out his wallet. “Listen. I have enough money to buy us both a medium-sized slushie from the store. If I do that, will you tell me what’s wrong?”
Saburo sighs. It’s tempting.
“I want a large.”
Jiro narrows his eyes. Saburo makes eye contact, unblinking. Jiro’s eyes already look watery. Heh.
Jiro blinks, a lone tear catching on his lashes. “Ugh! Fine. I’ll get a small, you get a large, and you tell me what’s bothering you. And nii-chan never finds out.”
Saburo nods. “Deal.”
The cashier gives the two of them an odd look as they enter the store, and keeps an eye on them as they make their way to the back where the slushie machine is. Apparently, even DRB fame doesn’t spare them from the inherent suspicion of teenagers alone in a store. Whatever, Saburo thinks. At least he’s minutes away from getting his treat.
The slushie machine has three flavours. Cherry, lime, and blue raspberry. The lime flavour has a paper sign taped over it, the words not operating scrawled on hastily.
Lime has never been Saburo’s favourite, anyways.
Jiro fills his cup with cherry, then goes to fill Saburo’s as well. Saburo grabs his wrist.
“I wanna do it…” he mutters.
Jiro rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
After they pay for their slushies, Jiro drags Saburo to the park. They used to come here all the time, eventually stopping when they both got busy with other things. It’s small, about half a block, with lots of trees and a small clearing with a playground and a basketball court.
They sit down on top of the playground, feet kicking as their legs dangle off the structure.
Surprisingly, Jiro doesn’t press him. He’d been expecting it, especially after their bargain, but Jiro seems just as content as he had been to let them both sit in silence. Unfortunately for Saburo, this only makes him want to tell Jiro what’s on his mind.
Maybe this had been Jiro’s plan all along.
Reverse psychology.
Saburo swallows thickly. Jiro’s always poking fun at him for not having many friends… In his defense, Saburo doesn’t usually mind that fact.
“It’s stupid,” he says.
Jiro shrugs. “Probably isn’t.”
“It is.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Some kids at school… were saying it’s my fault we didn’t make it to the finals.”
On the basketball court, directly ahead of them, is a flock of pigeons. Rather than meet Jiro’s gaze, Saburo watches the pigeons. One of them— bigger than the rest— pecks angrily at the ground, startling a few of the smaller pigeons away. He wishes Jiro would say something. Really, it’s much more awkward sitting here in silence, his words hanging in the air between them while Jiro watches his eyes well up.
“Nah,” Jiro says. “That’s not it.”
Saburo doesn’t bother confirming what they both already know.
“You don’t even like people,” Jiro continues. “Like, maybe some people were being mean. But there’s no way that’s why you needed to skip class.”
Saburo sets his slushie down, crossing his arms.
“It’s embarrassing,” he mumbles.
“Losing?”
He nods. “Everyone saw…” He chokes, the rest of the words he was planning to say refusing to come out.
One of the pigeons walks close, so close to where they’re sitting that the soft kicking of Saburo and Jiro’s feet scares it away. There’s another pause, another almost minute of Jiro not speaking and Saburo’s ears burning so hot it threatens to burn up his whole body.
“You know what your stupid classmates were probably doing while you were getting your ass beat on live television?” Jiro asks, eventually.
Saburo has no idea how this is supposed to make him feel better. He entertains his older brother anyway. “... what?”
“Sitting in front of their TV, wishing they had the chance to be in your place.”
Saburo… doesn’t know what to say to that. When he doesn’t respond, Jiro takes a sip of his slushie and keeps talking.
“They’re talking shit about you because you made an impression, right? Like, if you really sucked that bad they wouldn’t be talking about you at all, you know? And—”
“Jiro,” he says. “Stop talking before you start sounding like an idiot again.”
“Right.”
A pause.
“Thanks,” Saburo whispers.
Jiro’s phone rings. He sighs, pulling it out of his pocket. His face blanches as he accepts the call.
“Hi, nii-chan!” He says, voice forced steady.
“Jiro.” Their older brother’s voice sounds out from the phone speaker. “Where are you right now?”
Saburo shakes his head. Don’t answer.
Jiro sighs. “At… the park…?”
Ichiro hums. “And does this have anything to do with why Saburo isn’t in class right now?”
Saburo shakes his head again.
“Yes,” Jiro says. “He forced me to take him with me, I swear—”
Saburo jumps on him, knocking the phone out of his hands and leaving Ichiro lecturing the pigeons as he and Jiro tumble halfway across the park. The rest of Saburo’s blue raspberry slushie spills on the asphalt, giving the pigeons a sticky blue puddle to drink from.