millstone

[miscellanium]

2022 note: this fic did not receive art due to mishandling of the challenge by the mods, but please enjoy the story anyway. i put a lot of work into it.

Title: millstone
Author: miscellanium
Characters: Sawatari Shingo, Ootomo, Kakimoto, Yamabe, Sakaki Yuuya, Akaba Reiji, Hiiragi Yuzu, Gongenzaka Noboru, others
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~12540
Warnings: Depictions of severe self-esteem issues, a couple very brief allusions to transphobia, implied sexual coercion, implied use of sex as self harm
A/N: For ygobigbang. Thanks to celestos for betaing this, thanks to pendulumscale for providing feedback on early drafts.
Summary: a story of a boy who loved too much and the boy who loved him too well. (or: two boys, four friends, and a constellation of desires.)

starts pre-series and ends post-series. ootomo realizes he loves sawatari shingo, but seeing the way sakaki yuuya makes sawatari light up has him asking himself: what is the best thing he can do for his friend? should he confess his feelings or swallow them for the sake of other people's happiness? don't worry, it's not a sad ending.

ao3 link






Panting, eyes glassy, Sawatari fumbles for Ootomo's hands and drags them up to wrap around his own throat. His fingers grip a little too tight and the pressure turns what feels like trust into something more aggressive. Ootomo looks down at him, remembers the bright red of Akaba's scarf, and says nothing.

Sawatari scoffs and lets his head thump back against the couch when Ootomo pulls his hands away. "Are you stupid?" He squeezes his legs around his friend's waist and rolls his hips, grinding close. One hand drifts up to try and play with Ootomo's ponytail, but he shakes his head and Sawatari is left reaching for cold warehouse air.

"No. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, okay? It's fine, you dumbass." The tone is fond but the words cut, double-edged, and in Sawatari's eyes is a quiet pain.

"No." He says it more firmly this time.

Scowling, Sawatari mutters, "If this is because I'm—"

Ootomo cuts him off with a glare. "You know that doesn't change anything for me. Besides, if I thought you were a girl I wouldn't treat you any differently, believe me."

Sawatari rolls his eyes but Ootomo ignores him. It's obvious from the way disappointment radiates from him he's wanting to start a fight.

Ootomo shifts his weight to stop straddling Sawatari, instead sitting up on the couch with his friend's legs in his lap. The couch is old and lumpy and he can feel the sharp curl of a spring nudging his thigh. "You know I like you a lot. I do, I really do." It's becoming a little difficult to talk, his throat clogging up with un-shed tears. "That's why I don't want to just be another bad habit of yours."

Sawatari stares at him, expression unreadable, then sits up and maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.

"You waited until you had your tongue down my throat to—"

"I'm not the one who—"

"—think I can't make my own decisions, I'm a man—"

"Sawatari—"

"—for a reason, I wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't gonna get me anything—"

"I just want you to be happy." Ootomo's quiet now, having given up on interrupting, but Sawatari hears this anyway. He may act like he's not listening but his friends know he's always paying attention, waiting for an opportunity he can take advantage of. And the couch is small with just enough room for the two of them and at this distance it’s hard to keep secrets.

"There's always a catch." He narrows his eyes and brushes his bangs out of his face. "That's what my papa taught me, that's how the world works—"

"No catch."

Sawatari scoffs again, bafflement clear on his face, but it quickly breaks down into a sob. One sob becomes two, then three, until he's bawling with his forehead pressed against Ootomo's chest, face hidden and ears gone red. His soft hair and skin has a sweet scent with something bitter beneath: lavender and cinnamon. Ootomo holds him, rubbing his back, and tries to think of something to say. But with this closeness, where the slight stickiness of flesh against fabric tugs at his attention like quicksand, where each ragged breath echoes like the ocean in his ears, all he can do is whisper his friend’s name over and over the way he would for a younger brother or a lover—Sawatari is both of these things and more, and the realization sinks into Ootomo that he's felt this way for a long, long time.

--

They'd met at Leo Duel School; the underclassman was so loud and brash it was impossible to miss him. With his carefully tousled hair and flamboyant blond bangs he looked like some kind of media star. Even though Ootomo had just gone through a growth spurt he still felt plain, the undercut and ponytail not really making a difference alongside the rich brown of Kakimoto's hair and the cool green of Yamabe's. He liked the idea of standing out and maybe having this kid around would help.

Sawatari's undeniable magnetism had the small Kakimoto eager to show off, doing whatever was asked of him, and Yamabe’s buddies knew first-hand that as an only child he found comfort in taking care of a friend like a sibling. Ootomo didn't mind the orders, giving massages and bringing food when demanded, because growing up with several younger relatives had taught him to enjoy being depended upon.

Struck by Sawatari's beauty and apparent confidence Ootomo started following him around from sunup to sundown, eager to see and be seen by those interested in this wonderful boy. Yamabe and Kakimoto came along reluctantly at first, but the three upperclassmen quickly agreed with each other that they weren't political hangers-on—no, the amount they cared about politics was, frankly, directly inverse to the amount of bragging and hectoring Sawatari did. Ootomo knew with the certainty of a young heart that all three of them just liked to hear him talk, his tones round and lovely except when his voice cracked from excitement (which, honestly, was rather cute) and if Sawatari's claims were growing too outrageous it couldn't hurt anything to gently try and pull him back down. What else were friends for?

Manipulation, it turned out—if Sawatari meant it when he called Akaba Reiji a friend. As far as Ootomo and his friends could tell, the only thing Akaba found Sawatari good for was doing all of Leo Corporation's dirty work. Even so, Sawatari would boast about Akaba's achievements as though they were his own, or re-frame them to present himself as an equal partner. But beneath the embellished accounts of Sawatari's exploits Ootomo was sure there was a quiet stream of doubt, growing steadily deeper until it was easier to hear the dark river flowing through his words.

When Sawatari started staying late after classes at LDS and showing up with bruises the next morning, flinching at Akaba's name and doing a poor job of hiding it, it was easy for Kakimoto and Yamabe and Ootomo to agree they should do something. They couldn't call themselves his friends if they didn't.

--

Sawatari may not have the words for how he feels about Ootomo but the warmth of his hands speaks volumes. And so does the damp of his tears soaking through Ootomo's shirt, turning it from pale green to something closer to black. There's a heavy love here, a millstone of desires Sawatari cannot remove, and if his friends didn't already care for him the pressure would be frightening. But something is absent—not missing, just absent—and it is there that Ootomo can see someone, somehow, fitting into Sawatari's heart and making it a home.

--

Following Sawatari after school wasn't difficult. The boy had a sharp wit and a keen sense of his surroundings, but when he was with Akaba, like now, the transfer of control was almost palpable. It was as though Akaba had him by the reins, or the throat. That blood-red scarf trailed behind them, fluttering in the air-conditioned air and guiding Sawatari's friends around corners and down dusty staircases. The door they stopped at was almost painfully ordinary, wooden with a small glass window and locked on the inside. There was nothing they could do short of trying to knock it down, but with someone as powerful as Akaba Reiji who knew what the consequences might be? Ootomo, as the tallest, was the one who got to try and see what was happening. The first thing to catch his eye was the red scarf.

It was wrapped tight around his best friend's neck.

--

After a long while Sawatari's fingers relax and release their hold on Ootomo's jacket, yet when Ootomo starts to pull away the embrace tightens again.

"Why do you like me?"

There's a difference, somehow, between fishing for compliments and opening yourself up, vulnerable. Ootomo can't quite believe what he heard. He could give the easy answer—rote flattery—or go for something deeper. Sawatari's looking at him with something like trust, hopeful despite the undercurrent of fear in his eyes. After a moment's hesitation, Ootomo wades into that dark river.

"You make me feel needed. And the way you look at me when you want me to do something...." He says this slowly, trying to choose his words with care and trailing off when Sawatari's expression slides into an emotion that's difficult to read.

"You think I need you? I don't need anybody! Sawatari Shingo answers to nobody!"

It's a defensive posture, claws extended, so the words aren't anything to take to heart but hearing it still hurts.

--

Ootomo’s hand curled into a fist. It was Yamabe that pulled him away.

It wouldn't do for them to try and act like heroes, not when they had no leverage against Akaba Reiji. Much as it was painful to admit, they agreed with each other that this was something Sawatari was doing on purpose. This was something he had chosen for himself.

That didn't mean it was a good thing. But whenever the question of Akaba's hand low on Sawatari's back arose, Sawatari changed the subject. His father encouraged the relationship out of both ignorance and a lust for power, which left nobody to question him. What he needed was someone brave enough or foolish enough to challenge him, force him to leap over obstacles instead of trying to guide him past them.

Ootomo and his friends were smart. They were also cowards. Well, maybe 'coward' was too harsh a way to put it, because when you're still learning your way around somebody's soul sometimes it's better to err on the side of caution.

--

"It's okay." The shadows in the warehouse are deepening, shifting the color of Sawatari's eyes from grey to purple. Ootomo doesn't look away. "I never said you did." It's obvious Sawatari is indeed beholden to others like Akaba but it doesn't take a genius to guess that his friend is lashing out from a place of insecurity.

"Yeah! That's right! You guys do whatever I tell you and you like it!"

Sawatari is allowed to gloat, to flatter himself, even to bend the truth, but when it comes to outright lies—

"Quit it!" They've both jumped to their feet, leaning aggressively towards each other. Ootomo's voice is shaking but his fists are steady at his sides. "We're your friends."

--

One day early in the school year Sawatari brought them all to an abandoned warehouse, with its roof falling in and the door unlocked. "I found this cool place," he said, grinning. "Of course I have to tell my friends about this rare secret!"

"It's cool, but.... If we're talking about rare things, can't we see your place for once?" Kakimoto asked. "It's gotta be pretty fancy—"

Sawatari shrugged and turned away. That was the end of the conversation.

While they worked on dusting off boxes he went around the building, peering into every corner and knocking on the rusty metal walls, setting off an echoing rattle that didn't subside until Yamabe asked him what he was doing.

"Checking for cameras, obviously. With a papa as famous as mine there's bound to be journalists stalking my every move!"

None of them had noticed any journalists around Sawatari, save for that one time his father misspoke about the value of social services, but everybody in Maiami knew that the Leo Corporation had surveillance cameras all over the city. It was for protection, a deterrent against crime—or so the Akaba family said.

--

Sawatari drops his gaze to his shoes, nervously tapping the toes of them along the concrete floor.

"You're my friends." He says this so quietly it takes a moment for Ootomo to register the words. Slightly louder, he continues by muttering, "Whatever that's worth. It's not like having friends means anything to me." He trails off, not pushing the point. The way the last of the light hits his eyes, though, brings out the gentle details of his irises, each fleck of silver pointing a path to that honest place buried long ago.

Ootomo has to hold himself back from going down it. He wants so much to push Sawatari into confessing, baring his feelings like an animal pinned for dissection, but he knows his friend has already made another promise to Leo Corporation and it's farther than any other deal has gone. Sawatari's soft hands are free of cruelty, unlike Akaba's. Akaba Reiji does nothing out of malice. Every action is calculated, every word weighed in their mouth before it's spoken. If something does not serve their goals it is beneath their consideration. Sawatari's feelings do not serve their goals. Akaba ties Sawatari down not to harm him but to control him, to ensure success of the larger plan, and in a way it hurts just the same.

--

"He's telling you to commit a crime!" Yamabe stared at Sawatari, appalled.

The evening light drifting in through the decaying warehouse roof made the moment feel dramatic, unreal almost.

With a shrug, Sawatari said, "It's not a crime. I'm just helping Leo Corporation investigate a new summoning method." But his eyes were shining sharp and when he grinned they could all sense the ulterior motive coiled tight behind his teeth.

Sakaki Yuuya had never done anything to anybody. The worst that could be said about him was that he had a deadbeat for a dad and that it seemed a lot like he had cheated in the duel against Strong Ishijima. Cheating was bad, sure, but it was no cardinal sin. So when Sawatari told his friends what he had in mind, they looked at each other with their lips pressed thin in hesitation.

"Look, guys, it's fine. It's not like I'm asking you to kill him!" Sawatari's laugh was rough with bitterness.

Ootomo had seen him the other day throwing darts at a torn-out newspaper page featuring Sakaki Yuuya's bright smiling face. The boy’s hair was red like Akaba’s scarf but warmer, a brightness Sawatari was not familiar with. He'd been muttering something about how he'd worked so hard but now this talentless nobody had seized the spotlight that was rightfully his. The tension palpable in the otherwise-deserted classroom stopped Ootomo from entering and so they did not walk along the river together that afternoon.

Kakimoto was the first to nod in acceptance. "That duel was freaking weird, and it stands to reason that Akaba would want to get that checked out. Right, guys?"

Frowning, Yamabe nodded slowly before glancing at Ootomo sitting on the crate next to him.

"And you have to make sure you're gonna get in the Championship, right? Not that it wasn't a done deal already," Yamabe hastened to add when Sawatari's face darkened. "But if we help make sure you can duel this kid then that'll be another win for your record."

"Precisely," Sawatari answered, smirking.

Ootomo remained silent, his expression neutral. Of course he wanted to help his friend. Sawatari acted like he was entitled to everything, and even if that wasn't true he did deserve more than he'd been given. His name had been all over the tabloids since he started middle school, along with distasteful speculation on what his body looked like and what was in the pants of this politician's child, and the only things he'd done were cut his hair short and stop wearing a girl's uniform. He deserved more respect and more opportunities to be just another kid. If nothing else Ootomo could do his best to give him these.

As if sensing Ootomo's discomfort, Sawatari waved a hand to dismiss Yamabe and Kakimoto. They went without hesitation and with just the two boys left the warehouse felt colder.

"Sit over here," Sawatari said, patting the empty space next to him on the couch. It was less a request than a command. Ootomo complied, busy trying to figure out what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. But he didn't get a chance to say much at all because suddenly there were lips against his own, warm and slightly wet.

Sawatari smelled like lavender and cinnamon and an indescribable cocktail of soothing aromas, in stark contrast to the near-frantic way he clutched at Ootomo's jacket and tie to keep him close.

"What are you—" Ootomo's words came out slurred. It was difficult to talk with Sawatari kissing him over and over and only pausing for air.

"You like me, don't you?"

A mighty yank on his tie sent them both sprawling on the couch with Sawatari spread out beneath him. Even with his eyes gone a bit hazy from the kisses he could not mistake the desperation in his friend's face. Sawatari was panting already, rocking against Ootomo's leg between his own.

"I know you like me."

When Ootomo took too long to reply Sawatari reached for his hands, wrapping them around his own pale throat.

--

Abruptly, Sawatari gets up. "It's late. I gotta go."

And he vanishes, the distant sound of his bike chains and the lingering scent of his conditioner the only sign he'd been in the warehouse at all. It's long been easy to see that it’s difficult for him to be anything less than superficial. The people of this city are quick to jump upon anything that seems like a weakness and his father's point was made by humiliating him, in front of his new friends, for dragging the family name through the tabloids. Since then he's done his best to appear flippant and charming at all times, the perfect politician's son. Whether he does a good job is beside the point.

Ootomo doesn't hear from him until the next day, when they'd agreed to help him with his plan for Sakaki Yuuya.

"You all understand what to do?" Sawatari looks each of his friends in the eye as though daring them to challenge him somehow.

"Yeah, if he doesn't want to duel you we grab his friends. But I'm not gonna hurt them unless they hurt you first." Kakimoto's voice is firm, as is Yamabe's nod. The way Sawatari's face lights up is more than just scheming; his smile looks genuine, relieved, and makes it easy for Ootomo to ignore his own conscience.

--

Later, carrying a groggy Sawatari off the LDS Center Court after his resounding defeat at the hands of Sakaki Yuuya, it occurs to Ootomo that this might be the one. Given Sawatari's nature, any first meeting is going to be on unequal terms—that much is obvious now. Sakaki has no subtlety to him, his retorts a slap to the face compared to the gentle nudges Ootomo and the others give. But this kid may have what it takes to teach Sawatari how to think about consequences and how to listen, to others and to himself.

They take him out of the school and to a nearby park, Ootomo sitting with him on a bench while Yamabe and Kakimoto run to the closest convenience store. The weather is mild and slightly chilly in the shade, a slight breeze ruffling Sawatari's bangs, and Ootomo would tell him to keep his jacket on if he weren't sweating with rage.

Sawatari throws his jacket on the ground. "I can't believe I lost to a filthy cheater like him," he shouts, not caring about anybody else in the park. "Who does Sakaki Yuuya think he is?!"

There's no good in pointing out Sawatari was the real cheater; his ego must be as bruised as his forehead and it's apparent he's ready to tell himself anything to save face.

"You know you can duel him again," Ootomo says with a gentle voice. Picking up the jacket and brushing the dirt off, he holds it out. When Sawatari reaches for it his fingertips graze the back of Ootomo's hand and his gasp is almost inaudible. There's a faint blush starting on his battered face, the tips of his ears going pink, and they've known each other long enough that the apology in his eyes shows clear. Maybe love will be what it takes to pull Sawatari out of the traps he has set for himself, and if not love then kindness: a hand on the shoulder, honest questions, and sacrifices.

Then their friends return, bags of sweet drinks and snacks in hand, and the quiet moment is lost but Sawatari shoots Ootomo a look that suggests they'll be talking more later. The expression is gone as quickly as it appeared, the usual facade thrown back up in haste.

"I'm going to crush Sakaki Yuuya! That'll show everybody who the real star is. 'Ladies and gentlemen', my ass!" He pauses, chewing thoughtfully on a scone. "That does have a certain ring to it. Ladies and gentlemen! Sounds better in my voice, doesn't it?" He grins at his friends, oblivious to the bemusement in their faces.

Seeing doubt creep into Sawatari's eyes, Kakimoto quickly nods and says, "It sure does! You have a great way with words."

Ootomo doesn't blame him for neglecting to mention whose words those really are. Sometimes it's hard to tell just how fragile Sawatari might be feeling because while he definitely has those moments, they're often buried beneath a shield of pride. It's an oversize shield, easier to use as a weapon than a defense, and even if they've found the secret to getting him to set it down he's not yet ready to let go.

His D-pad rings right as he finishes his scone, and any hint of pleasure on his face quickly vanishes when he sees who's calling. Though Ootomo can't see the screen from where he is, it's not difficult to guess the identity.

Expressionless, Sawatari answers the call. "Akaba Reiji." He's silent for a long while, but his grip on the D-pad tightens. Finally, knuckles gone white, he hangs up. Or, more precisely, he ends the call, the click of Akaba already having hung up on him without ceremony loud in the quiet.

"I gotta go debrief. And Nakajima wants to talk to me," he adds, rolling his eyes, but there's a thin note of hurt in his voice. "See you guys later, right?"

They all know it's a rhetorical question yet he asks it anyway. Satisfied with their nods he smiles, broad and fake, before turning away and heading back to Leo Corporation.

With the almost-celebratory mood they'd managed to create now deflated, there's not much even the talkative Kakimoto can think of to say. They say goodbye to each other and go home.

--

DUDE LISTEN TO ME! IT'S OBVIOUS!!

It's been hours since Sawatari went back to Akaba and any texts to him have gone unanswered. That doesn't mean they stop texting each other, though; Ootomo befriended Kakimoto and Yamabe when they all briefly tried joining the track team and while it'd been a short-lived venture, dueling ultimately far more interesting than just running, something of that jock mentality stayed with them and their bond held true off the field.

Ootomo's hunched over his homework at a desk that’s starting to feel too small for him, dutifully doing his best to focus despite the excited screaming of his younger brother outside his bedroom, but he can see each text message on his D-pad's screen out of the corner of his eye.

Yeah, your crush on Sawatari is Painfully obvious.

He almost snaps his pencil in half. But he only uses mechanical pencils, thankfully, and instead of breaking the plastic and metal pinches his skin. Busy rubbing his sore palm, he watches in dismay as Kakimoto and Yamabe keep piling on.

DON'T TELL ME U THOUGHT WE DIDN'T KNOW LOLL I'M SURPRISED HE HASN'T NOTICED??

I'm not lmao he's been hyper focused on Sakaki Yuuya.

YEAH BUT SINCE WHEN DOES HE PASS UP THE CHANCE TO MAKE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM LOL

Ootomo grabs his D-pad. guys i'm trying to do my homework

A silence, then the ringing of an incoming call. It's Yamabe’s number, but Kakimoto's voice is the first in this continued group chat.

"He has a crush on you too, y'know." Despite the touch of friendly amusement in his voice, the words make Ootomo grit his teeth.

"I know."

"Wait, what do you mean you know he has a crush on you?" Yamabe asks, more concerned than curious.

"I just know, okay?" Ootomo leans back, the desk chair creaking a substitute for a heavy sigh. "Can we drop this already?"

Kakimoto laughs in disbelief. "Are you kidding m—"

"All right." Yamabe cuts him off. "But don't think this means you're off the hook, dude."

Relieved, Ootomo hangs up; maybe now he can finish his homework in peace. Yet he can't focus, his mind constantly dragging itself back to the previous night in the warehouse, and so he sets the worksheets aside and leaves his room to find his younger siblings. He should make sure there’s dinner for everybody and it'll be nice to play with them, no stakes or anything, and he can take the hit to his grades, he figures. At least this once. But his little sister quickly notices that his heart isn't in it, his eyes full of a faraway love, and shoos him away. In his bedroom, aimlessly looking through his card collection, he finds a copy of Breakthrough Skill he'd thought he lost and he almost starts crying.

Sawatari had told them about his final hand, the trap card left un-set "because Akaba Reiji didn't say to do anything with it and I trusted him," and Ootomo remembers the self-hatred in his eyes. This card doesn't shine shatterfoil like Sawatari's does but it works just the same, negating the effect of a face-up monster. If these cards could be used outside of duels.... He doesn't have the influence of a politician's son, such as that may be, or the scion of a prestigious company, and he does what he can but it's never enough. He's too bland, too unmemorable, and even though he's pretty sure of the reason it's still hard sometimes for Ootomo to understand why Sawatari is interested in him. Yet the boy has a crush on him, or at least thinks he does, and with the way Mr. Sawatari is this kind of relationship would surely be bulldozed before it could even really begin.

If Sawatari Shingo must have his heart broken, there are better and kinder ways to do it.

The next day, Yamabe and Kakimoto meet him at the bus stop and it's as though they never had the conversation. When Sawatari gets on a few stops later, though, Yamabe gives Ootomo a look that's almost pitying. The way Sawatari shoulders his way through the crowd, elbows wide and a scowl on his face, makes him look like just another surly teenager but when he sees his friends, his face lights up. The sudden brightness in his eyes makes Ootomo's throat hurt, aching not with sympathy but something sadder. Before he can put a name to it, Sawatari's got a hand on his arm and it burns heavy.

--

Despite their being in separate rooms and on different floors, Ootomo and the others still get notes from Sawatari during class. It's obvious he must be paying someone off to relay the small scraps of paper, a new person every day, and the boys do their best not to think about how. The notes are always inconsequential, doodles of classmates or silly comments about one lesson or another, but there's something about the smudged fingerprints or almost comically careful handwriting that carries a touching sincerity. Every time Ootomo hands his own note to that day's go-between he tries to imagine Sawatari's smile instead of the messenger's hands in his friend's hair.

Today, the note from Sawatari is more serious.

Meet me under the staircase during lunch. Beneath that sentence is "We need to talk", scribbled out but sloppily enough that the words are still legible.

This time, he doesn't give a note to the messenger. The boy leaves as the teacher enters, hall pass tight in his hands. (Don't think about it, Ootomo reminds himself.) This is private business, this matter of the heart, and he doesn't want anyone intruding on it. Akaba Reiji is enough of a problem, to say nothing of Sawatari's own personality. Not that the boy has a bad personality, Ootomo insists to himself, but there’s no denying that sometimes it can be rather...abrasive. He sighs and leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head to try and wring the tension out of his muscles.

"Thank you for volunteering to read, Ootomo." The teacher's voice jolts him out of his thoughts. What is he supposed to do? He'll figure it out. He has to.

Once they've all been released for lunch, he sneaks out of the classroom, sandwich in hand, to find Sawatari. He knows exactly which staircase it is. They've hung out under it before and played Duel Monsters instead of helping to clean up their classrooms. He smiles a little at the memory, and when he sees the familiar lines of his friend's back a great love crashes down on him so hard his joints ache.

This may be a problem.

"Hey, Sawatari."

Sawatari spins around, always eager to show off his gymnastic grace. Grinning, he runs up to Ootomo.

"Finally! I thought you got lost or something."

"Is that what you think of me?" Ootomo laughs to make it clear he's joking but a split second of insecurity flashes in Sawatari's eyes before being shoved back deep inside.

"I'm starving," Sawatari says, looking pointedly at the sandwich in Ootomo's hands.

He hasn't gotten to taste it yet but he can't say no to that face. He needs to say no.

Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite, Ootomo says, "What did you want to talk about?"

Sawatari pouts at him but it's fleeting, more for show than anything, and pulls him over to the wall beneath the staircase. It's just tall enough for the two of them to stand and, backs against the wall, they lean against each other to take the weight off their feet. It's quiet for a few long minutes as Sawatari chews at the inside of his lips, thinking. Every now and then there's footsteps above them but nobody sees them—or at least nobody decides to bother them. They could have gone somewhere more private, but Ootomo wouldn't be surprised if his friend wanted someone to find them.

"So, the other day." He looks down, kicking the scuffed tile. "I...."

Ootomo gives him time. He can see the hesitation in those grey eyes, the reluctance to admit fault.

"I...." Shaking his head, Sawatari straightens up and squares his shoulders. "You're my friend. If I deserve the best then so do you. I.... Yeah." He cuts himself off, finally looking back up.

It's an incredibly half-assed apology. Not even an apology, actually, and Ootomo almost wants to laugh but considering how hard it must've been to make an effort to say anything at all, he keeps the observation to himself. It may not be the best but it's something nonetheless and this is a small step towards more. Holding Sawatari's gaze, he nods in gentle acceptance and chuckles a little at the loud sigh he gets in response.

"Want any?" Now he offers up the remaining half of his sandwich. It's spaghetti, something of an acquired taste, but Sawatari surprises him again by accepting it. The face he makes when he bites into it, though, doesn't come as a shock.

"Next time I can bring taiyaki for that sweet tooth of yours," Ootomo says with a teasing grin.

Sawatari elbows him but doesn't give the sandwich back, instead holding onto it like it's one of the nicest things he's been given in a long time. It's not, what with the expensive gifts Mr. Sawatari lavishes on his son in return for favors, yet it's too easy for his friends to believe that he's rarely given anything without strings.

Putting an arm around Sawatari's shoulders, Ootomo pulls more of his friend's weight onto him; the lunch period doesn't end for a while so they have time left to just be here together. It's an easy silence now, but the fine sweep of Sawatari's eyelashes in the soft afternoon light is a reminder of things Ootomo is not yet ready to think about—

A familiar jangling cuts through the air and Sawatari tenses. It's his D-pad again. Most likely Akaba Reiji since it's still the middle of a work day and Mr. Sawatari would have no reason to call his son.

"I'll see you later." Sawatari leaves without saying goodbye, sandwich still in hand, and all Ootomo can do is watch him go.

--

It's shortly after this day that Sawatari slides into talking about Sakaki Yuuya with every other breath. Never by name, of course, unless he's talking about revenge on his sworn enemy. Kakimoto and Yamabe shrug it off easily, taking it as more of his showboating, and Ootomo hesitantly agrees with them that it's nothing to be taken seriously.

But Sakaki Yuuya has taken him seriously. If anything, it's because nobody has taken him seriously until now that Sawatari is like this, full of self-inflated ego and simmering rage.

So the evening Hiiragi Yuzu bursts in on them at the warehouse, all brash attitude and grating words, it's a mixed blessing. Sawatari visibly perks up when he realizes she's come to challenge him, that she sees him as a real threat, but when she calls him a worse-than-second-rate duelist it's like she's punched him in the gut. What else does he have to pride himself on besides his dueling? In all the time Ootomo has known him, outside of casual conversation and political namedropping he's spoken almost exclusively about honing his prowess as a duelist. Dueling is one of the few things his father doesn't have a hand in, so to have that criticized is to press on the deep cracks in his self-esteem.

Things happen so quickly there's no time to try and stop the duel from starting even if they wanted to. Kakimoto's quivering like he was the one insulted, and given how close the association is between the four of them she might as well have showered derision on them all. That weird masked boy pushing him around doesn't help things any. It just makes Sawatari's friends more determined to see this through, to keep their names out of the mud—but when the virtual spear in Sawatari's jacket fades (it couldn't have killed him if it had hit, right?) and he collapses into the rubble and dust there's nothing left to do but carry him away from the wreckage.

That's what Yamabe tells him later, anyway, and it's mostly the truth. They could've charged the masked kid but what good would that have done? While waiting for Sawatari to wake up, Kakimoto had told the others about the awful force behind the strange boy's fist: like something borne out of battlefield survival, not play-fighting with friends after school. That was definitely not Sakaki Yuuya.

"That was Sakaki Yuuya, I'm telling you! I saw him up close and I know you did too!"

Even though the nurses cleared Sawatari of a concussion or any other potential injury, he'd managed to talk them into bandaging him up. Implying that business would suffer if the the son of the next mayor were treated poorly always seemed to work despite the exasperated sighs of people around him.

Banging his fake cast against the bed, he continues, "This just goes to show that he's out to get me like I told you he was!"

Ootomo steps forward. "Are you sure? It was dark and—"

"Of course I'm sure!" He shouts before falling quiet, doubt rising in his eyes. Eventually he adds, "The dueling style was totally different, but...Papa's coming to see me soon, I think. I'm sure he'll want to investigate." He looks out the window with frustration writ sharp in his furrowed eyebrows.

Once Mr. Sawatari shows up, several hours later, all trace of uncertainty is gone. Sawatari is as loud as ever, back to insisting that the attacker was Sakaki Yuuya. So swept up is he in his father's pompous attitude that he starts banging the bed with his supposedly injured arm again and all his friends can do is sigh. They're in unspoken agreement now that the XYZ duelist was not Yuuya, but they go along with what Sawatari says because of his father and the way he grins with pride at being treated like he's important; in using his son as a prop, his father drags him time and time again into the political muck. Any earlier attempts to get him to calm down or at least see reason, their careful clearing of the path, are quickly trampled over by his father.

Sawatari's brought back down when his father touches him in a showy display of affection, the look of shock on his face hard for Ootomo to miss, and he thanks his father the same way one would thank an overbearing retail employee. The uncomfortable political posturing is redirected when Mrs. Akaba enters the room, yet she brings with her a certain coldness that feels just as strange. There's not really a chance for his friends to say goodbye, the three of them quickly ushered out by Mr. Nakajima, and the flash of loneliness in Sawatari's eyes before the door closes is why Ootomo persuades the other two to accept the bribe. Sometimes you have to do things for the greater good, Ootomo tells himself. When the greater good is such a heavy love it's almost easy to believe that.

--

Shortly before the Championship Sawatari gathers his friends together during school lunch and informs them of his latest plan: another strategy for success.

"Don't you think you've bothered him enough?" Kakimoto takes a long slurp from his juice box and looks up from his seat in the grass.

"What do you mean?" The words are muffled, his mouth full of Ootomo's taiyaki, but the meaning is clear from his frown.

Yamabe shifts on the bench next to him, slipping his jacket off under the warm courtyard sun, and says, "Well, you hunted him down at lunch the other day, and there's only a few days left until the tournament so I bet he's plenty rattled." He glances at Ootomo on Sawatari's other side as if to say "Get him to calm down, please."

"Yeah, but if I rattle him some more—"

"How's your new deck coming?" Ootomo interrupts him.

With a scowl, Sawatari gulps down his food and says, "I'm working on it. Anyway, what's wrong with challenging Sakaki Yuuya again? If I'm gonna surpass that weak little nobody there's no reason for me to wait until the Championship! I can trounce him now and then humiliate him again with the entire population of Maiami City watching!" His voice squeaks with excitement but he ignores it, staring at his friends expectantly.

There is more than just rivalry here. It's jealousy, it's always been jealousy, Ootomo thinks as he remembers the darts practice he wasn't supposed to have seen. Sawatari wants to be the true rival, of course, especially since it's becoming clear that Akaba Reiji is trying to claim that position, yet some of it is just seeking attention for the sake of attention. Why else confront Yuuya at school, in front of all their classmates? It feels more like playground bullying, the kind of aggression that grows out of a child who doesn't know what to do with his feelings.

Kakimoto clears his throat. "What if that masked guy shows up again? He wasn't Yuuya, but—"

"So what? I always knew he wasn't!" Sawatari unwraps another taiyaki, oblivious to his friends rolling their eyes. "But I bet they're connected, so if I don't let Sakaki Yuuya out of my sight then I'll solve the mystery and I'll be the hero of this city!"

"He's out of your sight right now, isn't he?" Yamabe says, unable to keep a straight face and chuckling when he's rewarded with a scowl.

Ootomo leans back, resting an arm on the top of the bench and letting it touch his friends' backs. "If you leave him alone until the tournament starts, he'll probably be waiting for you to strike and be thinking about you the whole time." He doesn't mean a word of that, to be honest, but it doesn't matter.

"I suppose...." Sawatari frowns. "I still want to see him, though," he mumbles under his breath, just loud enough for Ootomo to hear. "Wait! I know what to do! I'll steal his girl from him."

"I don't think they're dating...." Yamabe says, stretching his arms behind his head.

"....It doesn't matter! Either way, imagine the look on Sakaki Yuuya's face when he realizes what a loser he is. All I gotta do is court her and use a little of the ol' Sawatari charm," he gestures at himself. "And she'll be mine just like that!"

Ootomo asks, "Is that how it works?" Either he hides his amusement well enough or Sawatari chooses to ignore it, determined to bask in his own genius.

"Of course. Jeez, no wonder you guys need me to lead you. I've watched romance movies, I'm not an idiot!"

Kakimoto barks out a laugh, covering his mouth too late. "All right, all right," he says, holding his hands up to ward off any potential temper tantrum. "What's your game plan?"

As Sawatari launches into an impressively detailed explanation of Yuuya's daily rituals and how they affect where Yuzu might be found at any given time, Ootomo can't help but look at him fondly. Misdirected as his emotions might be, there is a sincerity in everything Sawatari does. Sometimes it's buried deep, barely recognizable, but it's there.

--

Gongenzaka Noboru looks out of place in the crowded coffee shop, bold red headband and personalized school uniform clashing with the staid business suits of the salarymen streaming in and out for a quick pick-me-up. It was the closest neutral place they could agree on, but the noise and rush of strangers doesn't help Sawatari's mood any.

"Why were you bothering Yuzu?" Gongenzaka's deep voice manages to convey both annoyance and sympathy. Looking across the cafe table at Sawatari, he raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

"We were just—" Ootomo's cut off by Gongenzaka raising his hand.

"I want to hear his answer, not yours. Sorry."

Sawatari's plan to seduce Yuzu had not gone well. First of all, the way he'd chosen to set things in motion that afternoon was, honestly, less than ideal. He'd persuaded Yamabe and Kakimoto to go home, declaring that in the battle of romance he fights alone, but Ootomo refused to leave. Sawatari let him stay after he argued that it couldn't hurt to have at least a little backup, even though Sawatari of all people definitely wouldn't need backup, and told him to follow along without being too obvious. That was the first red flag in Ootomo's eyes; no girl, he thought, would take kindly to being trailed like prey.

Clearly Gongenzaka agreed, given that after the disaster of Sawatari's attempted wooing, he'd quickly arrived on the scene like a policeman apprehending a criminal.

"Look," says Gongenzaka with a sigh. "Yuzu told me you were harassing her, but because Yuuya has said you might be weird but you're not dangerous, I, the man Gongenzaka, feel it my duty to hear you out."

Fuming, Sawatari blurts out, "I'm not weird! I'm the most dangerous man here! And what are we even doing here anyway?! Are you scared to talk to me alone?! Is that it? Well?? Answer me!"

Gongenzaka stares at him patiently. The tension is palpable, crackling as Ootomo looks back and forth between them, yet the big guy holds his ground, expression unchanging. Sawatari does his best to win the staring contest but soon has to forfeit, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms with a huff.

--

“All right, that was the last of the last bells. Time for me to possess Yuzu’s lily, and then I’ll have Yuuya eating out of the palm of my hand!”

Ootomo kept his mouth shut. Soon after that the target was spotted mixed in with several other students leaving through the front door.

"Hiiragi Yuzu!" Sawatari strode towards her with a bold grin. "Since we're both done with school for the day, let's—"

"No." She started walking faster, holding her books tighter to her chest.

Sawatari whispered to Ootomo, "Just watch the master at work."

He trotted to catch up with her and grabbed her arm. "As a gentleman, it's my duty to see that you return the favor I did you the other day with my handkerchi—"

Yuzu wrenched herself out of his grasp. "What favor?! Do you even listen to yourself? Stop lying to yourself about everything!"

"Oh yeah?!" Before Ootomo could intervene Sawatari blocked her path, arms crossed. "Who's the one lying to themselves about Sakaki Yuuya?!"

That stilled her, though her eyes remained sharp with disdain. "I don't know," she said after a while. "Who is it?"

She stormed off, leaving Sawatari speechless in her wake.

--

"I was not bothering her, I was talking to her," he says. His voice is so sullen the emotion almost feels fake, and Gongenzaka frowns. "She was gonna leave before I finished saying what I wanted to say so I made sure she'd listen to me."

"By grabbing her?"

Sawatari huffs. "That's what you do, isn't it? How else do you get people to respect you?" As soon as the last word is out of his mouth he flinches, doing a poor job of hiding his apparent slip.

"I treat them with the respect I expect them to give me." Gongenzaka says, sounding pitying, and Sawatari bristles.

Ootomo puts a hand on his friend's arm both to comfort him and to hold him down. "Look, Gongenzaka, can we just say no harm done and call it a truce?"

"I need you to promise you won't touch my friends again. From what I heard you've been pretty rough with them," he says sternly.

Shrugging Ootomo off, Sawatari leans across the table. "I don't expect a big oaf like you to understand, but I was executing a brilliant strategy. I'm not well-regarded at Leo Duel School for nothing!"

Gongenzaka ignores the insult. "Relationships aren't duels."

"He's right, Sawatari," says Ootomo. He keeps his voice soft as though he's talking to an injured cat trying to hide its wounds.

Sighing again, Gongenzaka gets up and pushes his chair in. "I just wanted to be sure nobody gets hurt," he says, not bothering to hide the polite threat. "The Maiami Championship starts soon and I look forward to having an honorable duel with you." He shoulders his way through the crowd, moving more quickly than his bulk would suggest, but takes the time to pay for everyone's drinks before he leaves.

"What was that all about?" Sawatari laughs, the sound of it painfully artificial to Ootomo's ears. "Bringing me here like we're on a date or something. He's not even… okay, he's handsome enough, but come on," he says, the fake laughter louder this time.

"I think he made some good points," Ootomo mumbles. The idea of Sawatari trying to hook up with Gongenzaka and others doesn't bother him. If it bothered him, he'd have said something long ago (or so he tells himself). But something about the angle of the afternoon light through the windows reminds him of that time in the warehouse and of how his friend hasn't tried to lay hands on him since, not in that way. The rushing noise of the crowd pounds in time with the headache starting small and quiet behind his eyes.

Sawatari raises his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?" Surprisingly, he sounds genuinely curious rather than confrontational. "How so?"

"It takes more than just strategy for any relationship to work."

It would be hard for Sawatari to miss the greater meaning behind his words and from the way he looks down, he understands.

"I know. I just...wanted her to like me," whispers Sawatari. Here is another moment of unexpected vulnerability and Ootomo wants so badly to hold his hands, his face, but the cafe is loud and crowded. Yet maybe this is what Sawatari wants, the background sound drowning out the creak of his inching his chair closer to Ootomo's.

Voice breathy, he says, "I need to tell you something." He pauses to make sure he's been heard, then continues. "I've...done stuff with Kakimoto. And Yamabe." It's hard to make out his expression this close.

Ootomo isn't surprised. Knowing Sawatari's penchant for exaggeration likely the most that happened was some heavy petting, but something about the confession still stings. Was he right about himself, then? Is he really not good enough? Then Sawatari's hand is warm on his thigh, dissolving all the tangled thoughts in his mind.

"It seemed like something fun to do. I dunno." Sawatari looks away. "I thought you'd think it was fun."

The realization of what that means hits Ootomo late. This isn’t rejection. It's the opposite. He could kiss him right here and now, but he shouldn't with all these people around so he doesn't. He opens his mouth but gets interrupted by a quiet murmur of doubt: why is Sawatari saying this now? Why here? It might be just an attempt to lick his wounds, double entendre intended.

Sawatari's looking at him with those lovely grey eyes full of hope but does he truly know what he wants, or does he just think he needs to take what he can get?

After distracting his friend by pointing out the pie just then put on display, Ootomo pulls out his phone beneath the table and with shaky hands sends a text to Yamabe and Kakimoto.

guys i need your opinion on something because you're right i'm not off the hook

When Sawatari comes back with a boxed slice of pie and a twist to his lips it seems as though the distraction didn't entirely work, but he doesn’t say anything.

"Let's go home," Ootomo says, suppressing a guilty sigh of relief, as he stands and holds out his hand in an offer to carry his friend's burdens.

Sawatari's fingertips press into the cardboard box. "All right. It's getting late anyway."

The minute they step out the door, however, a distressingly familiar mop of pink hair bounds into view. It's Yuzu, but the condescension or anger they're both used to isn't there. Instead she looks concerned and ready to talk, if not listen.

The first thing out of her mouth is, "Don't think we can be friends." She may look concerned but she's sure not conciliatory. Ootomo discreetly takes a step back just far enough to let Sawatari confront her himself.

"What do you want, Hiiragi Yuzu?" He puffs himself up and sneers down from the natural advantage of his height.

She grimaces. "Gongenzaka made it sound like you were at least willing to listen to reason, even if you can't shut your stupid mouth, annnnd that's exactly what I'm talking about," she says as Sawatari opens his mouth. He snaps it closed, indignation burning in his eyes, and she goes on. "Look, I know you know that wasn't Yuuya and you're just picking on him because, I don't know, you're mad he showed you up for the loser you are."

"I'm not a loser!" Sawatari squawks, voice cracking. Yuzu rolls her eyes and—

Ootomo jumps between them. "Okay, guys, hold up. You didn't come here to pick a fight, did you?"

"No," says Yuzu. Crossing her arms, she continues: "I'm worried about Yuuya. If you keep spreading rumors that he's the one attacking people, he might get targeted for an attack himself. I mean, we don't know what's happening, none of us does! And if you want to duel him in the Championship...."

Nudging Ootomo out of the way Sawatari declares, "I don't want to duel him! It's our destiny to duel as rivals. And," he raises his voice as she starts shaking her head, "I'm not spreading rumors. I won't forget the heinous assaults he perpetrated on my family. But I can use my influence as the son of the next mayor to stop any scoundrels who try to falsely harm his reputation or his body!"

Yuzu stares at him, then Ootomo. "All right, whatever," she says, voice curt but with something like sympathy starting in her eyes. It's hard to tell who it's for or why. "I guess this means we have a truce."

"Great, I knew you could see reason. Good to know you just needed a man to talk sense into you." Sawatari thrusts his free hand out and grins broadly when she shakes it, ignoring the sound of disgust she makes.

Yuzu looks like she wants to say something more, but then she shrugs to herself and walks away without a word.

"Girls, am I right?" Sawatari elbows Ootomo. "...Y'know, she's really cute." There's a real interest in his voice that wasn't there before, and the tight feeling in Ootomo's gut worsens.

"You should go home and work on your deck for the tournament."

Sawatari grips the cardboard box tighter until it almost folds in on itself. "Fine. Good night."

It's not late enough for a goodbye like that but he turns on his heel and heads for the closest bus stop, walking quickly as though he's trying to leave this day behind.

There's no time for Ootomo to linger on this hurt. He has to get home or somewhere else quiet so he can call his friends. Granted, his younger siblings can be rather loud, but the security of being in one's private space is its own kind of quiet. Right after he begins the conference call, however, it's like the bed he's lying on starts toppling over the rim of a black hole.

"You didn't know? I thought he would've bragged about it to you already," Kakimoto says. His voice echoes, making the insides of Ootomo's ears itch.

Yamabe cuts in. "Wait wait wait. What's going on?"

"Why'd you guys do it?" Ootomo's parents always tell him it's poor etiquette to answer a question with a question, yet the words spill out of him. "Did you want to? Or did you just feel like you had to?"

The silence is so long he starts to worry the call's been dropped.

"He seemed like he needed it," says Yamabe, voice soft like an apology.

Kakimoto murmurs in agreement. For a brief moment Ootomo's almost offended he was last, yet it's clear that Sawatari waited for a reason. A test, perhaps, or hope—there's no way to be sure without asking him. So these admissions don't really come as a surprise to Ootomo. But they're more weight around his neck making it difficult to breathe.

He's not crying.

"D'you think it has something to do with Akaba?" Kakimoto says quietly, though they all know the answer is yes.

Being taught that your body is what has value, not your soul, is a hard lesson to unlearn and Ootomo can't begin to imagine what it would be like to learn that lesson in the first place. To have one's worth defined by usefulness as a political prop or as a bargaining chip—

He's not crying.

"You okay?" It's hard to tell who said this.

Ootomo takes a deep shuddering breath. "I don't know what to do. I think...it's not just a crush. But I don't think I can do anything—"

"Dude, just being there for him makes a big difference. I can tell," Kakimoto says, sounding unusually solemn. "Sawatari seems a lot less...."

"Touchy?"

"I was gonna say high-strung, but yeah." He laughs at Yamabe’s interjection. "Like when we all first met him, basically everything would set him off. But you got him to mellow out or something. Still kinda—" A whistling noise, tinny through the D-pad speakers. "But, y'know. Wouldn't be Sawatari if he wasn't like that!"

Ootomo has a gut-deep certainty that everything his friends are saying is true, but there's still a fear in there lying low and rancid.

"I don't think he's ready for a relationship. I don't want to hurt him."

The rustling sound of fabric rubbing against a D-pad suggests that someone shrugged.

"I think you'll know when he's ready," Yamabe says.

--

The next time Ootomo sees Sawatari the sky opens up—but it opens all ragged, torn apart by a vast darkness shot through with a sour green light.

All right, it's not exactly the next time but that's what it feels like after the blur of the Maiami Championship; once the tournament started Sawatari was as good as gone and after the formation of the Lancers they'd barely had time to say goodbye. So when Ootomo hears Sawatari's voice above him it takes him too long to understand it's not just the stream of longing in his own head. By the time he looks up, errand run forgotten despite the plastic bag handles cutting into his fingers, everyone else on the street has stopped as well.

At first it's hard for the crowd to understand what they're seeing, but even after the massive dragon comes into view, blacker than a thundercloud and streaked with a violently bright green, it's still difficult to accept that the world as they know it is dissolving. Yet Sawatari's words cut through loud and clear; even with the ripped-up sky hanging heavy over him Ootomo feels safe, the warm familiarity of his friend's voice grounding him like a promise of return.

--

The neon green of Sawatari's duel disk shone bright in the dusky red of the Sunset Stronghold action field. His eyes, large on the Jumbotron screens, glittered sharp with a low-burning jealousy.

"This is Sawatari Shingo's legendary revenge duel!"

A cut to Yuuya showed him wide-eyed in what looked like real anxiety, and Sawatari grinned even more broadly. There was a hard edge to it, the smile not reaching those cool grey eyes, and Ootomo had never been more proud. Here was a chance for redemption, for Sawatari to show the city of Maiami that he could stand on his own. He'd invoked his father at the beginning of the duel, sure, but that was simple intimidation tactics. He wasn't relying on his family reputation to pull him through this.

--

"The fun has just begun!"

The excitement in Sawatari's voice seems genuine, not just for show. It rings with sincerity. That's a rare sound to Ootomo and it fixes him in place. A little more than a month has passed since the Lancers left—he doesn't need to take the time to think about it because he's counted every single day—yet the change is more than he had imagined possible. Is this it, then, what being in love and being loved does to a person?

But Sakaki Yuuya is nowhere to be heard. Something about the dimensional rips skews reality and a few of the gaps bring things closer, create a painful clarity; not only is Sawatari facing the dragon alone (is he alone? There's another person there yet the tattoos on his face make it hard to tell whose side he might be on) but he's wearing Yuuya's pendulum. Something, somewhere, has gone wrong.

Even so Sawatari shows no fear. All Ootomo can see on his face is determination and delight.

--

Sawatari's gleeful laugh echoed throughout the stadium.The audience cheered, real cheering and not the derisive shouting Ootomo had heard too many times over, and the tremendous roar of Mayosenju Daibakaze drowned it all out.

Voice cracking, Sawatari egged them on. "Cheer more! Cheer louder! The fun has just begun!" As he yelled this, Ootomo could have sworn he heard the viciousness that'd been underlying his friend's words shift into a softer gear; still competitive, but the fear was gone and in its place was growing something stronger.

During the warm morning wait before the Championship's first round of Junior Youth division duels, Sawatari had told them about his new deck.

"Got it direct from Akaba Reiji, made custom for yours truly! I practiced with him all night so there's absolutely no way I can lose!" The lack of eye contact left little doubt as to how they'd practiced overnight. "And I've got him to thank for this shot at Sakaki Yuuya," he had added, preening.

Watching him flip and twirl around the Action Field, Ootomo knew this was still the smug kid he'd fallen in love with but in this new style he could sense the dawning understanding that it's possible to get recognition without harming others or yourself.

--

"The Sakaki Yuuya I know wouldn't be such a defensive coward! When we had that legendary duel, you braved danger to pull off a terrific escape," shouts Sawatari, voice pitched to carry a great distance. Ootomo still can't see Yuuya anywhere. "Where did that courage come from?"

There's a ferocious roar from the huge black dragon and underneath it's barely possible to hear an angry retort. It sounds like Yuuya, but it can't be. There's too much pain, too much malice. It almost sounds like Sawatari in those rough early days.

--

It took a certain kind of courage, a particular brashness, for Sawatari to keep declaring this duel a legendary one with him as the pre-determined winner. But Yuuya wasn't giving up. No, Yuuya risked his neck to get an Action Card even as the old temple crumbled to the ground—a form of bravery that Sawatari was not yet quite familiar with. What risks had he taken for friends, for family, for his own self? Giving up his autonomy was a sacrifice, not a risk. But then he changed his style of play, dropping the Pendulum Summoning that Akaba Reiji had taught him and which the audience loved, and here was a risk. Up on the big screen he flashed a smile, quieting the audience's murmuring but not stopping it.

Now that these people were interested in him on his own terms, there was a hard seriousness in his grey eyes. He understood the weight of their gaze.

--

"Let me remind you, Yuuya, what true entertainment is."

The pendulum bouncing against Sawatari's chest shines with an unnatural light. As the dragon growls again, a bright blue lights up his face from below and he laughs.

"If you keep forgetting, I will keep reminding you!"

He'd taken Entertainment Dueling and made it his own, Ootomo thinks. The only unoriginal part left is that one catchphrase, but even then there's something about the way the words roll out of his mouth that feels different. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the old saying goes, and in this case flattery means love. Sawatari has always taken after others out of desperation or desire, wanting to be noticed, wanting to be seen. Yet in Ootomo’s mind there’s no doubt that this time what started as imitation has tumbled into something deeper.

--

Everyone was chanting in unison, all demanding to see another Pendulum Summon. Sawatari seemed a little sour at first, but then smiled again. This time it reached his eyes.

"Come on, Entertainment Duelist! They're all cheering for it... The whole stadium is cheering on our duel right now! The audience is looking forward to it," he shouted, words full of a hard-earned pride.

Looking a little shocked, Yuuya murmured, "Sawatari...."

Just watching the duelists on the Jumbotrons couldn't give anyone real insight into their thoughts yet Ootomo felt like he could at least relate to Yuuya. What a surprise it was to hear Sawatari taking him seriously not just as some upstart challenger but as a rival—and perhaps a friend.

"It's your turn! You better answer to them!" Sawatari's voice trembled, just barely, with a new excitement that for a moment made it hard for Ootomo to breathe. In his friend's voice was the sound of not so much happiness as strength, like somebody who has learned how to carry a millstone into the dark water without drowning.

Towards the end, when it was time for the winner to be determined by the literal luck of the draw, Sawatari became quieter. Not because he was getting ready to lose ("Sawatari Shingo never loses," he'd screamed at his friends often enough) but because he knew that he had, finally, made people proud of him on his own merits. This might not have been very obvious to most anyone else in the audience but Ootomo knew him. He knew what to look for.

After the Action Field vanished, Sawatari's rejection of Yuuya's hand up wasn't surprising. He'd come so close only to be humiliated yet again—but the kindness in Yuuya's eyes was plain to see and in the small smile Sawatari gave him Ootomo could see a realization. Yuuya had never been trying to take anything from him. In fact he'd been given a gift with no strings, because maybe now people would be able to look past his father and his ties to Akaba and see him for who he truly was. They would give him a chance the way his friends did, the way Yuuya did.

--

Sawatari unleashes a combo so quick and convoluted that it's hard for Ootomo to keep up. He hasn't seen these new cards with their rich bright colors and bold designs, more eye-catching than the Yosenju monsters and more cheerful-looking without losing any of the aggressive edge that marks Sawatari for who he is. The rest of the people crowding this wide Maiami street murmur in awe and for once Ootomo doesn’t hear a single word about his friend’s father.

"Hell yeah! I'm truly amazing!" Sawatari's voice keeps cracking, pitch yo-yoing every other sentence, and Ootomo has never loved him more. Then there's another horrible roar, loud enough to shake another dimension, and the ground explodes beneath Sawatari. When the smoke fades everyone can see that he's lost the duel but the fire in his eyes means the battle isn't over. His personal war has just begun, here not at the middle but the beginning of his life’s journey, and surely Sawatari will find his way out of this dark wood. Ootomo feels certain that he himself should be able to as well, even if he’s still searching for that clear path. During this time apart he’s remembered something of what it was like to live as himself and while the memory is not an unhappy one he knows those days were empty. If he can just take Sawatari’s light into himself, carry it without fading—

The dragon screeches like thunder and everything after that is a blur of screaming and falling debris and the sky is coming apart, the sky is burning—

--

It's afternoon here. It feels like it's always afternoon, feels like it's been a long year of gentle sun and cool breeze and darkening sky. In the warehouse the air is still without being stale; months of quiet have built up here and finally seeing Sawatari in this private place again feels unreal.

Ootomo doesn't ask him about the inter-dimensional trip. They've already exhausted the topic. After the battle royale Sawatari had been swarmed by his friends all on the edge of tears and demanding to know what they had missed. Sitting together in the bleachers was torture, Kakimoto told him, since Sawatari was too focused on Yuuya's dueling to have a proper conversation. But this blunt statement didn't make him bristle—he just laughed, bright and cheerful.

Looking at the wild sweep of Sawatari's hair, Ootomo's struck by the difference between his explosive dueling in the Championship and the relaxed physicality he has now. The way he drapes himself across the couch isn't authoritative anymore. It’s self-confident and almost comfortable, that heavy desire no longer holding him down as much. He has the presence of a person who's come to terms with something that'd long eaten at them. Good for him, Ootomo thinks as he tries to find a good perch on the crate opposite the couch, and there's love in his soul but it's hard to keep the sourness down.

"You wanna hear something I didn't tell everybody earlier?" Sawatari leans forward. "I missed you. Not that I needed anyone, of course, but… it's really nice to have you around," he says, voice dropping into a whisper.

It's been hard for Ootomo to wrap his mind around all that's happened within the past week or so but this is what throws him for a loop. The gentleness in Sawatari's eyes is strange but not unwanted, and it's the want that freezes him.

"I, uh. Seeing all those people get carded made me think," Sawatari admits. "I'm glad you weren't there with us. And there were some people I realized I didn't...." He shakes his head. "Y'know I haven't spoken with Akaba Reiji since receiving that personal invitation to the Battle Royale? Haven't answered any calls."

"I'm glad," says Ootomo. It's more of a deep relief, an ache in his bones subsiding. "I think you're making a good decision."

Sawatari looks at him, eyes narrowed in calculation. This at least has not changed.

"Sakaki Yuuya respects me and he's the real mover and shaker here. After me, that is." A flip of the bangs and a deep breath, then: "I wouldn't be as famous as I am now if he didn't pave the way for people to worship me as the premier Pendulum Duelist. It's Akaba Reiji's turn to come crawling to me the next time they want some favor. Look, dude, come sit next to me and let some of my hard-won stardom rub off on you!" He pats the couch next to him hard enough to set some dust flying, filtering the late sun and floating like fireflies. "One of these days I'm gonna make sure it's not just respect. I'm gonna make sure Sakaki Yuuya looks up to me. If I can't get him to rise to my challenge then my name isn't Sawatari Shingo! Maybe I should get him to duel me with some kind of dare...."

While any desire for validation from Akaba truly seems to be gone, it's hard to tell how much of this rambling about Yuuya may be meant to provoke. Well, if it's a challenge then Ootomo won't back down. He can’t let himself keep doing that. So he joins Sawatari on the couch and lets himself put a hand on his friend's thigh.

With a small smile, Sawatari returns the gesture. Then his eyebrows rise like he's noticed something.

"Did you pierce your ears?"

Ootomo nods. It's nothing extravagant, just a pair of plain studs he’d picked out a week after the Lancers left. The weeks-old piercing still stings a little but under Sawatari’s gaze his flesh starts feeling like it’s burning, coming apart.

Sawatari laughs and reaches out to touch them. "I didn't think you were the sort of guy to do something like that. What the heck possessed you?"

"I wanted to stand out. Like you," says Ootomo. Sawatari's hands are on either side of his face, fingertips warm and soft on his earlobes and nape.

"Like me?" Sawatari looks him in the eyes. After a moment of silence he adds, "I always thought you were great the way you are. That's why I… that time..." He starts stumbling over his words. "Okay, look, you know I don't apologize for shit. Someone of my stature doesn't need to," he says. It sounds more like he's reassuring himself than explaining anything. "But I like you. I like you a lot. And what I did that time—"

Ootomo stops the boy's mouth with his own. His heart is thrumming loud in his ears and his palms are damp with nervous energy but he's certain now that he's made the right choice because Sawatari leans into him, pressing their foreheads together. The desperation of last time is gone, faded away like the dust in the air and replaced with—he can't put a name to it—but that doesn't matter. What matters is the softness of Sawatari's lips despite the spots where he's chewed at them. What matters is the quiet breathy moans he makes. What matters is his hands dropping to Ootomo's shoulders and tightening their grip.

"Wait," Ootomo says as he pulls away. He half-expects to see hurt in Sawatari's eyes but instead there's something more like relief. "I just… I like you too. But I'm not going to have sex with you. Not now."

Sawatari doesn't flinch or look away. "That's all right. I don’t want you to be a bad habit of mine," he says, sounding a little sad but not unhappy, and the words ring with familiarity. The upturned corner of his mouth sets Ootomo's mind at ease; they've given each other a promise, not a rejection. With a gentle kiss on the cheek he hugs Ootomo, squeezing him tight.

Now it's clear that there is no breaking the bond between any of them because Sawatari’s friends have been his bedrock. No, Ootomo realizes as he holds his friend close to his chest, they are the harps of his millstone of desire—a guiding of his furrows of his self esteem and the lands of his progress.

Yes, Sawatari has a chasm in him that may never be filled, but in trying to fill it he does not drag people down but rather hold them up, shower them with the best of his love. And so there is no competition for all comers are equal, more or less; one can love and be loved just as much in return. Whether this is a good thing isn't Ootomo's place to decide but he's certain at last that he can love his friend without sacrifice.

They feel the same about each other but at this time, in this place, the best way to show Sawatari love is to not go any further. Maybe in a few months or a few years he will have built a bridge over that chasm and then, finally, the two of them can meet on equal terms. In the meantime, Ootomo will take Sawatari's affection for what it is, millstone and all. It’s not a burden. No, it’s light, a quiet hand pointing the way.

They can get through this together.