Chapter 2

It wasn't until several days later that Shishido finally figured out exactly what had been bothering him so much about Friday's encounter. "He called him Kazuya," he blurted out as he was blindsided by the realization. He stared at the textbook he'd been (supposedly) studying from, the conversation replaying itself in his mind. Sakaki had definitely referred to the green-haired boy as 'Amano', and Kazuya was a given name. Ohtori, who still called Shishido '-san', let alone the rest of his teammates, had called the boy by his given name.

"Uh..." The hesitant sound from his left drew his attention away from the book. He blinked as he saw that Atobe and Jirou were both staring at him, nonplussed. "Are you sure you're reading from the same book we are, Shishido?" Jirou asked, confused. "There aren't any characters named Kazuya in this one."

Flushing, Shishido shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered hastily, returning his attention to the book. They'd met at Atobe's to study, as they often did. It was just more comfortable there, where the servants would bring them snacks and drinks, and they had more than enough space to sprawl out over the desks.

Scowling at the book, he struggled to remember if he'd ever heard Ohtori call anyone by given name. He definitely called Hiyoshi by his family name, though he had left off any honourific since they were in the same year. What about the rest of the music people? He'd heard his partner talking to them before, hadn't he? Did Ohtori call any of them by given name?

He couldn't remember for sure, but he didn't think so. And as far as he was aware, he was the only one allowed to call Ohtori 'Choutarou'. So who was this Amano guy, that he was close enough to Ohtori to have that kind of familiarity with him?

An old childhood friend, maybe? Shishido couldn't recall Ohtori ever having mentioned him before. Granted, they'd never really talked much about anything but tennis, but still. He knew Ohtori had an older sister and that his dad was a lawyer; he'd even met the younger boy's family a few times when he'd gone over to Ohtori's for one reason or another. The same was true in reverse. Why wouldn't Ohtori have ever mentioned a friend he was that close to? For that matter, when would he have spent time with the other boy, considering the way Shishido had selfishly monopolized all his time last term?

"...Ryou!" The sound of his name made him snap his head up, and he found Atobe half-glaring at him in exasperation. Behind their former captain, Jirou had his head propped on his hand, but was still awake and looking at Shishido in a bemused way.

"What?" he snapped back, feeling oddly on the defensive. Atobe never called him by given name unless he was trying to be either particularly friendly or chewing him out for something, and Shishido wasn't sure what he'd have done to deserve either.

"I called you three times and you still didn't answer," Atobe informed him, raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't know what that hapless textbook did to offend you so, but you're going to burn a hole in it if you keep glaring at it that way."

"What's up, Shishido?" Jirou added, obviously concerned about his friend. "You've been out of sorts since Friday. I could tell even when I was half asleep."

Sighing, Shishido flung himself back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. "It's nothing, guys. Sorry I'm being so distracted. I found out on Friday that Choutarou quit the team, and it threw me for a loop."

There was stunned silence from the other side of the table for a long moment, which made him feel a little better. At least he wasn't the only one who'd been shocked silly by the discovery. "I trust he had good reason for doing something like that?" Atobe finally drawled, regaining his composure faster than the blatantly gaping Jirou.

"He said Sakaki wouldn't give him the first chair in the orchestra unless he dropped tennis because it was going to mean a lot more practice," Shishido explained wearily. "And that, since he'd gone to Nationals with us last season, he wanted to do something equally important in music this year."

"But why didn't you know before?" Jirou asked, eyes wide. "I mean, you said you just found out on Friday. Didn't you guys talk about it before he decided?"

"I haven't..." Shishido flushed again, once more feeling guilty. "We haven't really spoken much lately. Well, hell, I've been here studying with you guys most nights, you know that."

Atobe and Jirou exchanged a look that felt significant somehow to Shishido, but he couldn't interpret it. "When was the last time you spoke to Ohtori, then?" Atobe wanted to know. "Surely this wasn't a decision he made on only a few days' thought. He's more serious than that."

The flush deepened. "I, uh... we haven't seen each other since, uh... since just after we retired from the club." When the two of them stared at him again in disbelief, he got defensive. "I've been busy, damn it! It's only been one bloody month, and it's not like he's gone out of his way to see me either. But I talked to him on Friday, we're gonna go out and play street tennis sometime soon."

He couldn't help but be uneasy as he said it, though. He had called, as Ohtori had suggested, early on Sunday morning. His former partner had sounded relatively glad to hear from him, but had begged off the game, saying he had prior plans. Which was certainly fair enough... except half a day of warning had never been too little in the past. Hell, ten minutes of warning was usually sufficient, as either of them would drop whatever they were doing if the other suggested they meet for a match.

And Ohtori had hung up before Shishido could arrange another time, later in the week. Shishido still had a bad taste in his mouth from the whole encounter, but he'd just reminded himself that Ohtori had probably just already been busy with whatever it was that was eating up his afternoon. Which, come to think of it, he hadn't said just what he was doing, had he?

Shaking his head, Shishido glared back at his two best friends. "It's not a big deal, guys," he defended himself. "Honestly. Just a lack of communication. Why're you so worried, anyway?"

"Friendships can die from neglect," Atobe reminded him archly. "Even one as close as yours with Ohtori. Take care that doesn't happen, it would be a shame to break up a partnership as strong as yours."

"Geez, you'd think we had a fight or something," Shishido muttered, brushing off the words of warning with a queasy feeling in his stomach. We've just been busy. Both of us, damn it. It's still no more my fault than his. "Can we get back to studying now?"

The conversation stayed with him as he walked home later that night, however. Atobe's words about friendships and neglect kept ringing in his ears, making him want to bang his head against something solid to drive them out. Jirou's last words to him as they'd parted at the sleepy boy's door were also eating at him.

"Ohtori-kun really looks up to you, you know," Jirou had said, looking at him with an expression that was oddly neither sleepy nor excited. It had been almost serious, an emotion Shishido wasn't used to seeing from the other boy. "Be careful you don't make him think you're too busy for him, okay? You could really hurt him."

"I'm not too busy for him!" he'd protested. Indeed, it seemed as if the very opposite were true. "And I already said I'll call him. You worry too much, Jirou. Go inside and get to bed before you fall asleep on the stairs or something." Jirou had yawned and grinned at him before vanishing inside his house, leaving Shishido to continue the rest of the way to his place alone.

Now as he walked, he found himself brooding on it all until it was nearly driving him crazy. Growling to himself, he pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. It was kind of late, but he knew Ohtori tended to stay up late doing his homework because of all the time he put into practicing his violin and tennis. If he called the younger boy's cell instead of his home line, he shouldn't disturb his parents. And he could get this settled once and for all.

He punched the first button on his phone, which would speed-dial Ohtori's cell. Listening to it ring, he kicked a rock absently down the sidewalk in front of him. He was just starting to wonder if maybe Ohtori had left his phone somewhere when it was finally picked up.

"Shishido-san?" the familiar smooth voice came over the line, and Shishido's scowl melted away. "It's not like you to call me so late. Is something wrong?"

"Choutarou." He kicked the rock again, grinning now. "Sorry, I know it's late. Hope I didn't wake you. How'd you know it was me, anyway?"

"I've got my phone set to a different ring if the call is from your number," Ohtori informed him with a laugh. "Haven't you noticed I always know it's you? And you didn't wake me. I was just surprised, you're usually getting ready for bed now."

It was funny, Shishido reflected as he kicked the rock again, how well they knew each other's schedules. They'd only worked together for a few months, really, but Shishido sometimes felt like Ohtori knew him better than even Atobe or Jirou, who'd been his friends since they were all little. He was fairly certain they had no idea what time he typically went to bed.

"I was studying at Atobe's and decided to walk home," he said. "Figured the fresh air would help clear my head, or I'll be dreaming about variables doing the waltz with chemical formulae, or some shit like that." Ohtori chuckled, and the sound made Shishido's smile widen. "Listen, you seemed busy last time I called, so I didn't get a chance to ask. You want to get together this weekend? We can hit the street courts, make sure we're not getting rusty."

"This weekend?" Ohtori sounded a bit surprised, but pleased. "Um, just a second..." There was a soft sound, as if he'd covered the phone with his hand, and then Shishido heard his muffled voice asking someone else, "Do we have anything planned this weekend?"

He missed the rock on his next kick, and nearly overbalanced himself as well. Pausing on the sidewalk, he scowled at the innocent rock, his grin vanished as quickly as it came. Since when did Ohtori have to check with anyone about his weekend plans? His family were pretty big on 'family time', sure, but not that big on it. But who else would Ohtori need to check with?

"Shishido-san?" Ohtori was back, and Shishido wrenched his mind back on track. "Saturday's not really any good, Kazuya reminded me we're supposed to be going to a concert Sakaki-sensei recommended to us. Is Sunday okay?"

Amano again? Shishido didn't realize he was grinding his teeth until his jaw started to ache faintly. The pianist was there with Ohtori, at this hour? "Sunday's fine," he forced himself to say casually. Honestly, what was his problem? It was good to know Ohtori had other friends. He was a friendly guy, who thrived on affection from the people he cared about. Of course he had other close friends besides Shishido. "You guys must be practicing pretty hard for that piece, huh? You're usually doing homework by now, not music."

"Oh, we are doing homework," Ohtori assured him. "We're in the same class, so it just seemed easier to bring my books to his place so we could study after we practiced." There was the sound of laughter in the background, and a muffled voice saying something Shishido couldn't make out. "No, I'm almost done," Ohtori assured the person on his end, who could only be Amano. "I should go, Shishido-san, it's late and we need to get these math problems done. I'll meet you Sunday at the courts by your place? One o'clock?"

Shishido had been planning to suggest they get together early, play all morning and go out for lunch together, and then maybe just hang out and catch up for the afternoon. A bit nonplussed, he tried not to grind his teeth again. "Yeah, sure, sounds good," he said. "I'll see you then."

"Okay, see you then!" Ohtori agreed. And then Shishido was listening to the beeping of the dial tone. He blinked, bringing the phone down to stare at it, wondering if the signal had cut off somehow. It showed five bars, full signal, and he wouldn't have gotten a dial tone anyway if that had happened. But... had Ohtori just hung up on him? Again?

The discussion had been more or less over, he had to acknowledge as he stabbed the button to end the call. It was just... Ohtori was never so abrupt about ending phone calls. He was too polite, for one thing, and for another, their conversations had always tended to drag out long after they probably should have hung up. Somehow one or the other of them always seemed to come up with something more to say, even if it was mostly inconsequential.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to start walking again. He was reading too much into all this. So what if Ohtori was over at that kid's place? Like he'd said, it made more sense for him to study there, and if Amano was a pianist, presumably they needed to be at his place because he had a piano. They didn't tend to be as portable as violins.

And so what if Ohtori called Amano by given name, even though he'd persisted in calling his partner 'Shishido-san' no matter how many times Shishido said it was okay for him to call him Ryou? Ohtori had always been polite, and it would naturally be harder for him to call a senpai by given name than it would be for a classmate. He and Hiyoshi just weren't close enough for that kind of relationship, and Shishido had never seen Ohtori much around other juniors. For all he knew, the younger boy called all his classmates by given name.

Scowling, he went to kick the rock again, and realized he'd left it behind. Of course Ohtori had ended the call quickly; it would have been rude of him to draw the conversation out when he was a guest in the other boy's house. He'd probably been over there on Sunday the last time he'd called, too, which explained why he'd ended that conversation quickly as well.

Somehow, that thought made Shishido more upset, not less. Snarling, he found another rock and kicked it much harder than he had the other one. It made a satisfying smack against a lamppost, and fragmented into several pieces. What the hell was his problem, anyway? Why was this even bothering him so much? Ohtori had agreed to play with him on Sunday, and that was the important thing, right?

Before he quite realized what he was doing, he had his phone on again and had hit the second speed dial button. This one was picked up much more quickly, by an equally familiar but deeper voice. "Did you forget something, Shishido?"

"Why does everyone know it's me?" Shishido demanded, momentarily sidetracked. "Do you have me set up with a different ring too?"

"Of course I do," Atobe sounded amused. "Everyone on my speed dial has their own ring, it makes things so much simpler. I don't have to waste time looking at the display to decide if I want to answer the call or not. Don't you?"

Disgruntled, Shishido rolled his eyes. "No, because I'm not an organizational freak like you and Choutarou, apparently. I just always answer my phone!"

"Ah, so you spoke to Ohtori?" Atobe sounded oddly pleased. "Good. Did you get things sorted out with him?"

"Yeah," Shishido replied, though he was scowling again. Had he? Wasn't that why he was calling Atobe, to get his friend's perspective on the whole mess? "I guess so. We're gonna go play next Sunday."

"So why are you calling me?" Atobe wanted to know. "Did you want Jirou and I to come along so you'll have someone worth playing?"

That wasn't a half bad idea. Unless they really lucked out, the competition at the street courts didn't tend to really be worth the effort. Though Shishido felt oddly like... like he didn't want to share Ohtori with anyone. He'd had enough trouble getting the younger boy away from this friend of his, he didn't want his partner's attention divided any further.

Except that was ridiculous, because having Atobe and Jirou around wouldn't be dividing Ohtori's attention, it would just give them someone worth playing. "If you can," Shishido agreed. "Can you ask Jirou later? I'm sure he's asleep by now, no point in waking him up."

"I'll do that," Atobe agreed, sounding amused. "Was there anything else?"

Shishido hesitated. What could he say? 'Choutarou's got a new friend, and he's ignoring me?' It sounded so bloody childish, like a five-year-old who's been told he must share his favourite toy and is sulking as a result. He'd sort of wanted Atobe's insight into the whole matter, since his friend was good at getting to the root of things like that. Only Shishido was afraid the 'root' of the matter would end up being Atobe laughing at him for this sudden, ridiculous insecurity.

"No, that was all," he said, mouth twisting on the words. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

This time when he hung up his phone, he wasn't upset or angry. Just feeling oddly weighted down, as if something was pressing hard on his chest and making it difficult to breathe. I'm being stupid, he chided himself harshly. Of course he's got other friends now. The only reason he spent all his time with me before is because we were in the middle of the tournaments, and every minute counted. Everything'll be fine on Sunday.

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