Banany's fic journal

Title: Mine (Part 7/9)
Pairings: Golf/Mike, Golf/Mike/Yamapi, Kamenashi/Yamapi
Word count: 5,991
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Golf and Mike had always been closer to one another than anyone else. Yamapi threatened that.


Mike didn't answer his door no matter how loudly or for how long Yamapi hammered on it. Five minutes and a number of knocks that he hadn't bothered to count later, Yamapi was forced to admit that no one was going to answer. Perhaps Mike was still in his brother's room? Because as much as he wanted to see him right now, he figured that it was a good sign if those two were still together.

He wouldn't call himself the best judge, not having known them for very long, but their relations had seemed ever so slightly strained for a while. A thorough, uninterrupted making up would definitely be the best cure. He could wait, anyway.
He didn't need to see Mike right now; it wasn't like he could tell him about the conclusion he'd come to, anyway: 'Yeah, I was going to break up with you because I actually liked your brother instead, but now I think I've changed my mind. You cool with that?'

Yeah. Not only would it be difficult to figure out how to say that in both English and Thai, but it would also be incredibly stupid of him.
Still, going back to his own room by himself made Yamapi feel a little lonely. He updated his J-web once he got there in order to feel like he was in contact with someone at least, but left out all the important parts of his day. He mentioned the morning photo shoot, and then veered off into a long story about what he'd had for lunch. It was best if he didn't say anything the phone call with Kame, he thought. Revealing personal things like that to the public always got you into trouble.



The next morning when he got up early to check, Mike still didn't answer his door. Yamapi wasn't worried of course, since nothing could have possibly happened to him between the time he left him last night and this time this morning, but he thought that maybe he'd check with Golf. Just so he could know where Mike was.
Golf's room was one across from Yamapi's, on the opposite side of the hall. All their rooms, including those of the KITTY members, were relatively close to one another, as was natural, so he didn't have to travel far to get to from Mike's to Golf's.

It started to feel a bit like déjà vu when he knocked on Golf's door and got no response. Fortunately, the second time, he was rewarded with the faint sound of footsteps from the other side, and Golf's voice, slightly more on edge than usual, calling out something in Thai. Obviously he caught himself, as he quickly switched to Japanese, saying, "Please wait!"

When he finally answered the door, Golf looked a little surprised to see Yamapi there, but that expression quickly melted into a dazzling grin. It was almost enough to distract Yamapi from his original reason for coming here.
"Tomo!" Golf greeted him, "Good morning. Sorry, I took a long time." He gestured to his outfit and said, "I have no clothes."

Yamapi stared at him blankly, and then tried to repress a chuckle when he figured out what Golf had been trying to tell him. Golf realized his mistake at the same time and covered his face in embarrassment. Even so, Yamapi could see between his fingers and knew that he was still grinning.
"No, no, no!" Golf hastened to say, speaking around humiliated laughter, "I had no clothes! I got dressed, so, slow. Sorry."

Yamapi nodded, but the wide, amused smile on his face refused to leave. Actually, it made him a little nervous. He wanted to forget about these feelings that Golf caused in him, but it was difficult. It was so nice to be able to stand here with him, laughing easily about something so stupid.
It felt good.
It felt good, but it wouldn't lead to anything more than what they already had, because Yamapi didn't want to do that to Mike. And he knew that if Golf had any idea what was going on, he wouldn't either.

"Tomo?" Golf waved a hand in front of his face, looking slightly concerned. Yamapi blinked. His mind must have wandered, he realized.
"Sorry." He said, and then finally got around to asking, "Where is Mike?" Honestly, he would have liked to have asked if Golf knew where Mike was, or if he'd seen him, since that would've sounded less blunt and less like an accusation. Unfortunately, his grip on the English language didn't quite allow him to. Golf seemed pretty unaffected by the wording, and he invited Yamapi to come in.

"He's here." He pointed to his bed where Mike was curled up, still asleep. Yamapi couldn't help but chuckle fondly; Mike's hair was a mess, his lips were parted slightly and he had the blankets in what looked like a death grip in his right hand. One couldn't say that it was a beautiful sight, but saying he didn't look adorable while sleeping would definitely be a lie.
"Cute." Yamapi said, and the smile on his face was obvious in his voice.
He didn't notice Golf's slightly alarmed expression, before he replied, "Yeah. Always cute."

---

Yamapi felt troubled. He didn't find it odd that Mike seemed to have slept in Golf's bed last night. One time when they'd had their translator with them, Golf had told him about how Mike had been nervous before they'd come to Japan, so he'd snuck into bed with his brother. Mike had turned bright red upon the story being told, but there was little he could do to stop the translator from repeating it in Japanese.
He had to admit he'd been a bit surprised that Mike had been naked under the covers this morning, but he'd let that go. All of that, the sleeping together, Mike's state of undress, it was probably normal for them. Maybe he often slept with nothing on. Maybe it wasn't uncommon for relatives to do that in Thailand anyway.

What was bothering him was the way that Mike had been acting towards him from the moment they'd met for breakfast. He hadn't waited around in Golf's room for Mike to get up after he awoke, since that would have been slightly awkward for sure. Thusly, he hadn't noticed any difference in his behavior. It was when they'd run into one another before leaving for dance training, that he noticed Mike had started to act oddly. He'd looked almost shocked upon seeing Yamapi, as though the chance of meeting up with him had been a million to one.

He'd followed up with a smile but it had looked fake, as though it didn't belong with the rest of his face. Then when Yamapi had tried to greet him with, 'good morning', Mike had flushed bright pink and ducked his head before mumbling something and edging away. To say that Yamapi was perplexed would be an understatement.

There was nothing he could have possibly done to cause this in the time they'd been away from each other. Nothing short of Mike finding out about why he'd gone to see Kame, but he was about 99% sure that couldn't have happened. Even if Kame did slip up somehow, the language barrier would keep it from spreading to either of the brothers.

He glanced at Mike, though only briefly to avoid messing up the dance moves. Nothing else about him was any different. He was dancing as well as he usually did, so nothing seemed to be weighing on his mind.
At the same moment he thought that, Mike stumbled slightly and managed to trip himself up. Yamapi and Golf both stopped to make sure that he was okay, as he hauled himself back onto his feet, apologized and rubbed his knee. Yamapi listened as the instructor explained that Mike had tensed his leg at the wrong moment and thrown himself off balance. Then he said that they were due for a break anyway, and he'd review what needed to be fixed once they'd rested a bit.

Perhaps this would be a good time to confront Mike, Yamapi thought. But the moment they made eye contact, he muttered something about going to the bathroom and took off. Golf went after him, and Yamapi was left behind, wondering what could possibly have changed in the short time they'd been apart.
Mike shut the door behind him, and leant against the wall. He felt mean for doing this to Yamapi, but he didn't know how to react any other way. After what he and Golf had done last night, continuing on as if everything was still the same was impossible. He'd feel too uncomfortable letting Yamapi touch him.

Footsteps approaching the bathroom door pulled Mike out of his musings, and he quickly made himself look busy by splashing water onto his face. The door creaked open, and he was pleased to see that it was just Golf.

"Nice job with the dancing." Golf said, sounding sincere, but quite obviously teasing him. Mike flicked his fingers, and sent water drops flying off them, onto his brother's face. Golf's face cracked into a grin. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry. You okay?"
Mike stuck his hands under the drier, and spoke back over the noise. "I'm fine. But it's your fault anyway, pervert."
Golf looked affronted. "My fault? What the heck, Mike, how can your mistake be my fault?" He watched as his brother pulled his hands out from under the dryer and rubbed them to make sure they were completely dry. He didn't reply as he walked towards Golf, and pushed him up against the bathroom door. If there hadn't been a sly smile on his face, he would've seemed angry.

"This is kinky." Golf said, causing Mike to roll his eyes, "Never figured my little brother for the dominant type." That earned him a smack on the head.
"This is to make sure that no one walks in on us." Mike explained. Golf just laughed.
"Kin~ky~." He repeated in a sing-song voice.
"Per~vert~." Mike mimicked him, then leant over to whisper in his ear, "And I stiffened my leg and tripped because someone was a little rough on me last night. You should've been a little more gentle while taking my virginity."

Golf leant forward and kissed Mike behind his ear. His body felt soft in Golf's arms, unlike some people who feel awkward and bony when you hold them. Golf liked to think it was because they were meant to be like this.
"Next time I take your virginity I'll make sure I'm more careful." He said matter-of-factly, and only laughed when he was hit again. He moved his arms from Mike's shoulders and wound them around his waist so he could pull him in for a proper kiss.

Maybe it was a little dangerous, doing this when other people were around, but he couldn't see how it could go wrong with them standing in front of the doorway. Mike had no qualms about responding, and his kiss was so heated that Golf felt himself getting light headed.
"Did Tomo teach you that?" He asked, panting slightly. Had he been forgetting to breath?

Mike flushed pink and looked away, his shy demeanour contrasting heavily with what they'd been doing moments earlier. "Don't ask such stupid stuff. You'll just make yourself jealous." Thinking about Yamapi made him feel sick with guilt now, juxtaposing with the way he'd been making him feel only days ago. Once this project was over and he was back in Thailand, he'd be away from Yamapi and wouldn't need to worry about hurting him anymore.
"I won't get jealous." Golf said, running his fingers through Mike's hair. "You're mine now."
Mike found that he couldn't disagree.

---

Yamapi liked to dance, but he wasn't really enjoying himself today. Mike didn't look at him once, and whenever he tried to catch his attention, it was obvious that he was being very careful to look in the other direction. Yamapi felt a bit lost; he had no idea what was going on.
Over the short break they'd been given, he'd theorized that perhaps Mike had told Golf about what was going on between them, and maybe he felt shy about it now. Not that Golf was acting any differently.

Actually he seemed in a good mood today; the way he danced had been more energetic, a lot less stiff, and his movements had been slightly looser, without being sloppy. He'd given off no signals that he knew what was happening between his brother and Yamapi. Or what had been happening, Yamapi thought sourly as Mike avoided his gaze for about the 14th time that day (He hadn't been counting, honestly. It was just an estimate).

Obviously hinting was going to get him nowhere. He couldn't wait for this to be over and done with so they could get back to the hotel. Yamapi wouldn't admit it, but the fact that he had the hots for a 16-year-old, and that said 16-year-old was avoiding him when a good percentage of Japan would fall at his feet in an instant... it wounded his pride more than a little. Especially since the only reason he could think of to explain Mike's sudden odd behaviour was that perhaps he'd suddenly decided he didn't like Yamapi. That or...

Did Mike really like other boys? He almost tripped over himself in the middle of a dance move at the thought. Mike was still only in his mid-teens. He was probably still experimenting with love, with whether he liked boys or girls... Maybe he'd decided that a relationship with another male didn't suit him and now he just felt uncomfortable when they were together?

The air in the room suddenly felt too hot and heavy, almost as though it was pressing against his skin and suffocating him. When practice finally ended, he couldn't get out of the building fast enough. Mike continued to stay away from him, instead choosing to stick close to Golf. Still, even if he was being avoided, Yamapi couldn't help but feel glad that he'd helped the brothers reconcile yesterday. If he hadn't, then Mike would've ended up all alone today once he'd started to avoid Yamapi, unable to talk to either of them. And as much as he wished that it was him right now that Mike was sitting with and chattering away to, the sight of the brothers happy together made him feel stupidly warm and mushy inside. Happy family things always did this to him.

That feeling was quickly whisked away when he was hit with another thought.
Hadn't he thought that from close to the very beginning of this GYM project, something had seemed out of place with the brothers? That Golf and Mike had some sort of tension between them - the type that came from an unresolved disagreement? That tension was definitely gone now, since they'd most likely patched up whatever had been wrong between them. He knew this should have pleased him, but instead he only felt cold, contrary to the season.

If something had been wrong all this time, perhaps Mike had been using Yamapi as an emotional support? If something had been wrong between those two, had he only been a replacement for Golf all this time?
No, that had to be wrong. There had been times that Mike had relied on him as his senior, but there was no way he'd have kissed or touched someone who was supposed to be a replacement for his brother the way Mike had touched and kissed him, right? Still, he thought as he watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye, something about the way they were acting seemed off...

No. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Those two were close, closer than he was to his sister at any rate. They were companions as well as family, while he and his sibling had only a typical older brother, younger sister relationship.
But he couldn't help thinking that they way Mike was resting his head against Golf's shoulder, or the way his hand lay against Golf's thigh was far too much like the way Mike had sat with him after their first kiss. And the way Golf's arm curved around Mike's waist, the look in his eyes… it all seemed more - much more - than brotherly.
He turned his head away, fast enough to feel like he'd given himself whip-lash.

Mike's sudden distance from him was the only reason he was thinking these things. His mind was jumping to groundless conclusions to explain the cause of it. Golf and Mike would no doubt be horrified if they knew what he was thinking. He needed to stop coming up with stupid reasons for what was happening, try to talk to Mike about it ('Try' being the operative word here, since none of the teach-yourself language books he'd bought had phrases on how to ask your jailbait lover about why they were suddenly avoiding you) and they'd figure it out.

Whether they'd still be a couple at the end of it was another story altogether. Yamapi was a little startled to find himself hoping that they would be.
He tried to ignore the laughter, the chatter in a language from an alien country, coming from beside him for the remainder of the trip back to the hotel.
Occasionally he spoke with the four members of KITTY, who'd gone through their dance steps as well, but with a different trainer. It was when they actually arrived that he realized his plan had a flaw. He really didn't want to ask Mike to talk while anyone was around, and for the entire day, he'd been sticking to Golf. Rather like gum to a shoe, Yamapi thought, trying to think up a suitably unpleasant simile to fit with his unpleasant mood.

He hoped that maybe he could corner Mike in the corridor before he went into his room, but the brothers just stood in front of his door and kept chattering. Yamapi felt painfully left out, unable to do anything but watch, unable to understand a word that passed between them. He was jealous. It was only yesterday that Mike had been smiling at him the way he was smiling at Golf right now. And he'd never been able to make Golf laugh the way he was laughing with Mike at the moment. There was something there between them, something that he knew they'd never be able to share with him.
Golf stopped talking suddenly and focused on Yamapi.

"Tomo." He was smiling as he spoke, but it did nothing to make Yamapi feel better. "Something want to say?" Yamapi's eyes flicked to Mike, who was being careful not to let any emotion show on his face. He kept his head turned downwards, as though he found studying the floor a particularly interesting pastime.

"No. So..." He tore his eyes away from Golf's younger sibling and forced a grin, "What's you doing now?"
"Shower. After that... sleep, um... until dinner." Golf said, struggling slightly with the grammar. Yamapi could tell from the way that he was looking at him that he wanted to be reassured he'd gotten it right, but Yamapi could hardly be bothered with that as it was. He wasn't in a particularly generous mood at the moment, and remaining courteous was hard enough without having to go out of his way to be nice. Instead he repeated his question to Mike, who seemed startled that he was being spoken to.

"I... Me too. Shower. Sleep." He nodded, and seemed to back away from him more and more with each word that came out of his mouth. Yamapi wondered if the distance between him and Mike today wasn't particularly obvious to Golf, or if he was ignoring it on purpose.
"And Tomo?" His aura of cheeriness made him seem oblivious enough, but it was hard to tell. Yamapi scuffed the carpet with his shoe, trying to figure out how to get Mike alone, while pretending he was thinking of the English words. He still couldn't say much in Thai, aside from greetings, if he didn't have his phrasebook out.

"I will shower too." He finally said, and then, with no further excuse to stay where he was, he told them he'd see them later, and retreated to his room. In the end he did take a shower, but he made sure it was a quick one. He figured that if he wanted Mike alone, the best way would be to visit him in his room. With that thought in mind, he washed and dried himself in record speed, and then crept outside. He hoped none of the others would see him in the corridor, because that was bound to screw everything up. Fortunately, the only person who passed by him was a foreigner on the way back to their room, and they paid him no attention.

Once they'd disappeared from view and he was sure no one else was coming, Yamapi pressed his ear against Mike's door, hoping he'd be able to hear what he was doing. He couldn't hear the sound of water running, but he did think he could hear Mike shuffling about the room, maybe drying himself or getting dressed. He wondered if now was a good time to knock. He wondered if Mike would even open the door if he looked through the peephole and saw Yamapi standing there.

Minutes ticked by, and he still didn't know whether or not to knock. He knew he should make up his mind soon; one of the others was bound to come out and see him standing there like an idiot.
Then, with no prior warning, the door opened, and he heard Mike let out a sharp intake of breath in surprise. Yamapi started as well; of all the things to happen, that was the last one he'd been expecting. Didn't Mike say that he was going to sleep after his shower?

"... Hello." He said, somewhat stupidly, trying to warm things up a bit. Mike didn't reply, but kept staring at him with eyes like those of a trapped animal. There was no mistaking the fact that he wanted to escape. "Where you going?"
Mike immediately began to bite the inside of his cheek, something that Yamapi had learnt he did when he was nervous, before telling him, "Golf's room." He looked nervous, and his eyes wouldn't stop darting back and forth between the corridor and the floor.

"I want to talk." Yamapi told him, before he could be dismissed. Mike took a step back, and Yamapi couldn't figure out if he was being invited in, or if he was being avoided. Fortunately Mike didn't shut the door in his face or try to run; instead he went and sat on his bed, looking resigned to the idea that he'd need to explain himself. Yamapi shut the door behind him with a soft click, and went to sit down as well. Not next to Mike, as he would have liked to, but in a chair nearby.

Now that they were finally alone together, he didn't really know what to say anymore. It was best they start off slow, he figured, without accusations.
"Are you okay?" He asked, going for the caring approach. Mike looked at him as though he hadn't understood, but Yamapi knew there was no way he could have made a mistake with such a simple sentence. Instead of repeating himself, or pushing for a response, he waited in silence. Mike opened his mouth a couple of times, as though he was going to say something, but made no sound until he let out a long sigh.

"I don't know." And then, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
"It's alright. It's alright." Yamapi couldn't think of anything else to say as Mike covered his face with his hands. Yamapi had learnt a long time ago that it was a gesture that people made when they wanted to block out something they couldn't handle. It made him want to reach out to Mike, to see if he could take some of the burden off him, but he knew he shouldn't.

He couldn't.

If Mike flinched under his touch, if he pulled away from him, Yamapi knew it would cut him deep. Something between them would break, and he didn't want to risk it. And so he stayed where he was, unable to do more than coo reassuring words in English about something he didn't understand. When Mike lowered his hands and raised his head again, staring with large, sad eyes, Yamapi felt himself spurred to ask, "What happen?"

Mike bit his cheek again, and unconsciously clenched his hands into fists, so tightly that his fingernails needled into his palms. His eyes kept flicking between the floor and Yamapi's face, as though he couldn't bare to keep eye contact. Yamapi watched on, still unsure about what to make of the entire situation.

"I can't..." Mike whispered. He looked like he wanted to run from the room. From Yamapi. And it hurt. It hurt that suddenly, Mike didn't trust him anymore. It hurt that he wasn't comfortable with him. And he felt helpless because he didn't even know why.

"Ne..." Yamapi waited until Mike looked him in the eye, "You hate me?" He would have felt bad, like he was using the underhand tactic of making Mike feel guilty to squeeze the truth from him... if he hadn't been slightly worried that what he asked was true. But the look on Mike's face, of shock, almost of horror, said otherwise.
"No!" Mike blurted in English, "I love you!" His blood rushed to his cheeks as he said it, and he winced as the momentary confidence he'd felt, only for a second, drained away. "I don't hate you." He hastened to say in Japanese, hoping it would take some of the emphasis off his confession.

'I love you'. Some of the impact was taken off, since his brain had been forced to translate the words from English to Japanese, but they'd still sent a thrill through his body, akin to a shiver. The words repeated themselves in his head, over and over like a stuck record, and he felt both more and less sure of himself. It was relieving to know that Mike didn't hate him - that Mike loved him - but at the same time, it confused him. If he loved him, why had he been avoiding him all day?

He focused on Mike; on his flushed face and bowed head, and the way his hands were folded in his lap. It was enough to bring back his feelings from the night before, the overwhelming need to protect and love Mike, the desire to hold onto him tightly. He felt confidence flare up inside him, and suddenly he wasn't worried about Mike pushing him away. He didn't hesitate to lean forward and gather him into his arms. Mike went stiff at first, but soon he was returning the hug fiercely, murmuring that he was sorry again, over and over, into the crook of Yamapi's neck.

Even once they'd separated, Yamapi kept one hand resting on the small of Mike's back. He wasn't ready to let go yet.
"Tomo... I want to tell." Mike looked at him with a determined expression, "About why."
The Japanese made very little sense, but Yamapi hoped that Mike was trying to say that he was finally ready to explain about why he'd been avoiding him since that morning.
"I'm will listening." He replied, and nodded. Mike actually smiled, and slid off the bed to look for something.
"I write. Is that okay?" He asked. When Yamapi nodded again, he resumed his search for paper, pens and translation devices.

Perhaps it was too difficult to explain, Yamapi thought. But then again, matters of the heart always were, even if you did have the right words at your disposal. He watched Mike as he shuffled around his room, gathering up numerous dictionaries from both English to Japanese and Thai to Japanese.
Once he had everything he needed, he turned back to Yamapi to find that he was still watching him intently. He waved him off with a flick of his hand.
"Please," He said, then paused, trying to find the word he wanted. "Please... comfortable."

Yamapi made a sound of comprehension, and retired to Mike's bed. He felt a little awkward, as though he were being ignored, but obviously it would be hard to work if one could feel eyes on their back the entire time. After casting around for something to do, he settled on turning on the TV. He kept it on mute, not wanting it to be a distraction, and tried to concentrate on the images dancing past on the set. Instead, he kept finding himself staring past the screen with unfocused eyes.

Mike's hand shook slightly as he copied out the foreign symbols onto a piece of paper. His eyes flicked back and forth between the ones in the books and the ones he'd written down. Were they right? He thought they resembled one another closely enough, but it was hard for him to tell. If Golf was here, maybe he could help... but would he? Maybe he'd just be mad at Mike for trying to write this down for Yamapi. He probably didn't want anyone else to know, no matter who they were, but...
Mike felt that Yamapi deserved to. He owed him this explanation no matter what Golf thought. Anyway, Mike trusted him. That's why he was pushing the various scenarios where Yamapi reacted badly to this new information out of his head, and was concentrating on writing the note.

By the time he finished, Yamapi had long since given up on trying to watch television. Instead, he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling while an advertisement for soup soundlessly played out. Some pretty little housewife was on screen, diligently stirring the soup, while her husband sat at the table waiting after a hard day's work. The normality of the scene made Mike feel sick. He turned it off, catching Yamapi's attention.

"Finish?" He asked, easing himself up into a sitting position. Mike nodded and shuffled his feet, but he didn't come any closer to offer him the paper. He was starting to regret his decision, but then Yamapi smiled encouragingly and extended his hand, and Mike just put it in without thinking about it. Then, once he no longer had a hold on it, he edged away into a far corner of the room, as if he was afraid to be near while the note was being read.

Mike wrote very neatly, Yamapi thought before he began to read anything, in beautiful, curvy characters. Those thoughts were swept out of his head when he finally began to decipher the note. He swallowed. The Japanese wasn't totally correct, and it was a bit ambiguous, but the content still made his heart chill.
'Tomo. About today. I'm sorry. But yesterday, Golf and I did something bad together. I'm really sorry. I love Golf. But I really like you. Do you hate me now? Please let me be your friend.'

Yamapi tried to keep a neutral expression on his face and continued to pretend he was reading the letter, even after he'd finished it three times over. He didn't know what to do. He wished that he could just sit here forever, staring at the note without having to reply. Despite this, he found himself saying, "Your way to write is... very pretty."
Mike looked at him, obviously confused, so Yamapi held the note out and traced the form of a hiragana 'A' with his finger.
"These. They are pretty." He repeated, but his eyes stayed upon the paper, not once looking up. Mike fidgeted in his corner, glad to have the sturdy wall of his room pressed against his back, while everything else around him seemed uncertain.

"Thank you." He replied, and then suddenly neither of them had anything to say. The only accompaniment to their breath, Mike's shaky, Yamapi's almost inaudible, was the sound of traffic from far below, coming from a window that had been left open. Mike was suddenly overcome with the urge to shut it, to do something, anything, to fill in the gaping hole created by their silence.

Yamapi's voice, sudden but low, stopped him from moving.
"So...You love Golf." He said it, almost as though he were stating something that Mike didn't know. "Like... a lover?"
Mike turned the most brilliant shade of pink that Yamapi had ever seen on a person, and began to fidget more violently.
"Yes... like a lover. Yesterday, we..." He made a few helpless gestures with his hands, then put one to his forehead, as though trying to stave off a headache. "I'm sorry, Tomo."

Yamapi wanted to tell him that it was okay, but he didn't really know if it was. Instead, he lowered the paper and gently placed it on the bed. Then he stood up straight and told Mike in a soft voice, "I have to go." Mike didn't try to stop him as he left. Instead, he stared at the closed door, before picking up the note from where it had been left and began to examine it critically. Was his writing really pretty? It was hard to tell... he'd barely even used any kanji.

He let out a short, quiet laugh and shook his head. No kanji, and simple grammar. It honestly must have seemed like a note written by a child. Actually, now that he thought about it, it would probably be wise to tear it into pieces, small enough to make sure that they were impossible to reassemble. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could be troublesome. Troublesome for him, and Golf and Yamapi.
"I'm stupid." Mike said out loud, and the words resonated in the empty room. "I'm really, really stupid." He buried his face in the paper so it covered his eyes, and before long a couple of wet patches appeared on it. The ink began to run.

Once the door was shut behind him, Yamapi broke into a jog, despite the distance to his room only being a few metres. He couldn't get there fast enough. He needed to get away from... not Mike, so much as that note and the information it had forced on him. He had to lock himself up, think about nothing for a while and recover.
His room looked different to him for some reason once he re-entered it, though nothing had actually changed. Everything was as he'd left it.
Maybe he was going crazy. Or maybe everything else was going crazy. They probably both amounted to the same thing, he thought.

Waves of tiredness suddenly overcame him, and he sat down on the bed, feeling numb. Too much. Everything was too much. Mike and Golf and dancing and singing and volleyball and having to hold it all inside him was too much. He let his fingers trail over the cool plastic of hotel phone next to his bed.
"Why aren't you there?" He muttered at it, "Why aren't you there when I need you to be?"

---

"Have you moved from there since I left you?" Ueda asked upon his return, trying to sound off-hand, but only succeeding in sounding worried. He offered Kame a plastic container, with two skewers of dango.
"Yeah." Kame lied, accepting the food from Ueda. "Thanks." He checked his cellphone again, still clutched in his left hand, before he started to eat. No new messages. No missed calls.
---