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Yukimitsu realized that he'd been staring dully at the back of the man's head for a good block before he woke up enough to think, ...wait...even if there was a second man in Japan with hair like that...the EARS...."

"Hiruma-san?"

The man turned, and yes, God, could he have changed any less in ten years? Yukimitsu smiled. "Hiruma-san. It IS you."

"Eh?" Hiruma stared at him blankly for a second, then cocked his head, his eyes flicking up to Yukimitsu's head, which was, Yukimitsu knew, slowly becoming shinier with every passing year. "Fucking baldy?"

Yukimitsu chuckled and rubbed a hand over his head. And then promptly missed completely whatever it was Hiruma said next, dazzled (or was it frozen in fear? maybe a bit of both?) all over again by that wickedly sharp smile. A few more lines, maybe, around the eyes and mouth, but still the devil's own grin.

Hiruma evidently wasn't QUITE happy enough to see him to kick him like he would have back in high school, but still, just being the utter focus of that smile, genuine and intense just like Yukimitsu remembered....

Well...it felt good to see that Hiruma was glad to see him.

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"So. What've you been up to, baldy?" Hiruma gestured with his coffee cup, once the waitress had taken their order and retreated. "You look like a salaryman."

"Heh, a lawyer, actually."

"Really? I'm not surprised. You always were too smart for your own good. Heh. Smart enough to get into something that'd make you money, at least."

Yukimitsu was certain that he had to look like a grinning idiot by now, but for some reason he couldn't stop smiling, and it didn't have much to do with the compliment. "Eh, not as much as I could, really, but that's all right. I work for a partnership that does a lot of pro bono work for the poor. It doesn't pay as much, but...well, I like it."

"Heh. Seems like you, baldy." Hiruma sipped his coffee. "Always were too fucking nice for your own good, too."

Yukimitsu shrugged. If he hadn't had years of practice hiding his reactions in front a courtroom, he suspected he'd be blushing. His high-school self certainly would have been. Damn the man, how did he make Yukimitsu feel like he was fifteen again? "My scholarship in college was based on me doing some volunteer work, pro bono legal advice, that kind of thing. And well...when I finished I realized that it had been probably my favorite part. I still get to make lots of money AND help people. Win-win situation."

"Good deal," Hiruma nodded, turning to look out the window as the gray clouds finally opened up with the rather impressive downpour it had been threatening all day.

Yukimitsu found himself watching Hiruma's hands, still almost impossibly long-fingered, curl around his coffee cup. He made himself stop. "So, what've you been up to? I uh...kind of lost track of you after awhile. I know you went to Kagoshima. I even caught a few of your games! I don't think I ever heard your major, though."

Hiruma's pointed grin forcibly reminded Yukimitsu of the days of the "Devil's Handbook". "Political science."

Yukimitsu blinked. "That...is a truly frightening thing, Hiruma-san."

Hiruma laughed. It wasn't quite his old "KEKEKEKE!", but it was close. "I'm kidding, fucking baldy. I went for business, actually."

"Really? I suppose I could see that, though I have to admit, I can't imagine that anyone could have taught you anything about it you didn't already know."

"Che. Didn't. Not really the point, though, you know? Just something to do to pass the time."

Yukimitsu smiled. "In between games?"

Hiruma shrugged, eyes drifting to the rain outside the window again. "Yeah."

"You know, I was surprised when I heard that you were going to Kagoshima. I mean, it's a good school, but not as good as you could have gotten into." Yukimitsu looked up at Hiruma over the rim of his water glass. "I figured it had something to do with them having a really bad American football team."

Hiruma's eyes slid over to him, almost inscrutable except for the smallest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Got it all figured out, huh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Yukimitsu said, holding up his hands. "You just ah...never seemed like the type of person to want to do anything EASY, Hiruma-san."

Hiruma barked out a laugh, nearly startling the waitress into dropping the tray with their food.

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Halfway through their burgers, Yukimitsu realized that they'd drifted away from the topic of what Hiruma did for a living. "So," he said, wiping off his hands so that he could roll up his sleeves. His burger was messier than he'd been expecting. "What ARE you doing nowadays, if it's not rude to ask? Dot com business owner? Stock broker? Professional gambler?"

All seemed equally likely, to be honest. Hiruma's black t-shirt and pants could have come out of his 15-year-old self's closet, not a salaryman's. Granted, he could have had the day off, but still. Yukimitsu was pretty confident that he could imagine pigs flying more easily than Hiruma Yoichi holding down a desk job.

Hiruma was waging gory war against his own food, something that looked more than a little like blood dripping from under the lettuce. Hiruma shook his head, still chewing, and Yukimitsu pressed forward, monopolizing on having Hiruma speechless for once. "Hmmm...hacker? Gun dealer? I know, yakuza enforcer!"

That got a swallow, an amused snort, and a reach for a napkin. "Fucking baldy. No, I do this and that, really. You were closer the first time. Got a few business deals that mostly run themselves. Stocks here and there, a bet here and there. Making money isn't all that hard, really, if you know what you're doing."

Yukimitsu supposed that for someone like Hiruma, that was probably true. He looked at Hiruma expectantly, and Hiruma reached for his coffee again, taking a long sip. "And I coach the Zokugaku Chameleons."

Yukimitsu nearly choked on his soda, then realized that Hiruma had WAITED until he was drinking to say that, the devil. He coughed. "Really?"

Hiruma nodded, grinning.

Yukimitsu took a breath, swallowed, and reached for his burger again. "I'm not surprised about the coaching. I mean...you WERE the Bats' coach. That was pretty obvious from the start...but why the Chameleons?"

Hiruma shrugged, attacking his own meal again. "Habashira asked me to. He's still attached to the place. When he found out I was bored, he suggested I kick the Chameleons' asses into shape as a favor." He licked a line of sauce off his wrist. "It was something to do."

Yukimitsu smiled. "How's the season been going?"

He'd meant it as a casual question, expecting a tirade of profanity and insistance that the team was the fucking worst in the history of ever and that Hiruma was taking them on a death march across China in the summer. Instead, Hiruma's eyes flicked up over his bun, then away, something crossing over them too fast for Yukimitsu to really identify. Another shrug, and the sudden silence was disquieting and odd enough to grind the conversation to a halt for a few minutes until Yukimitsu cleared his throat and changed the subject

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Later, after the downpour stopped, they headed out onto the wet street. The air was heavy, smelling of rain and exhaust.

"Where you headed?" Hiruma asked, settling his laptop bag across his shoulder.

Yukimitsu pointed, "This way is home." Standing there in the streetlight, he suddenly had a vision of Hiruma walking away, a casual wave over his shoulder, and Yukimura never seeing him again. He found himself saying, "I uh...I don't really need to get home for anything. Really. You want to head somewhere for a drink?"

Hiruma raised an eyebrow. "What, no Mrs. Yukimitsu to chide you for staying out late?"

He shook his head, his lips quirking in the usual good-natured smile that he used when asked that question at work. "So...sake? Unless there's a Mrs. Hiruma to worry about?"

Yukimitsu tried to imagine Hiruma marrying...anyone, really. Maybe someone caring and motherly, perhaps, but that line of thought ended faster than the infamous Hiruma/Mamori-san dating fiasco that nearly destroyed the clubhouse third year. Maybe some busty bombshell, if she could keep from being boring....

Hiruma laughed, head tilting back, and, watching him, it occurred to Yukimitsu that perhaps injecting alcohol into this situation was not the best idea. It was too late, though, since Hiruma slung an arm around his shoulder and said, "Fuck, no. Sake it is."

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The sake bar they found was small and just loud enough that Hiruma's laugh didn't get them thrown out when they started reminiscing about the Devil Bats. The rain got them started on the tornado during the Death March, then Las Vegas, and they'd just continued right on through the fall tournament and beyond. Hiruma, after a few cups of sake, admitted he was kind of surprised at how everyone, including himself, had still hung out third year, with half the team no longer playing. Yukimitsu, also having had a few cups, told him he was an idiot if he couldn't figure that out. Hiruma stared at him for a moment and then laughed.

Another cup after that, they were trading "where are they now" stories. Yukimura kept in touch with Ishimaru, who was now a teacher at a high school in Nagano. Evidently Taki was doing modeling or some such, with his sister as his manager. Kurita was still living with his family, working with Musashi and Daikichi in construction and loving it. Neither of them knew what the Huh brothers were doing, though Hiruma evidently still got random drunken obscene emails from them. They'd both heard from Mamori-san, who evidently had spies in the postal service and could send a holiday card to the moon if necessary. And hearing from Mamori-san meant that they'd heard from Monta and Sena. Yukimitsu said that he'd heard that Sena was living down the hall from the other two. Hiruma waited until Yukimitsu was in the middle of drinking before smiling his devil's smile and saying fuck that, the three were having a hot threesome and that was a fucking fact.

That time it was Yukimitsu's laugh that had everyone in the bar giving them dirty looks.

Yukimitsu cut himself off before he was even properly drunk, when he found himself staring at Hiruma's mouth rather than listening to what he was saying.

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The night air was cooler, still humid enough to be like a cold washcloth to the face.

As they headed towards the subway station, Yukimitsu found himself saying, "So. Uh."

Hiruma had a smile on his lips, walking loose-limbed and relaxed. "Hmm?"

"So. About you and Musashi."

"Yeah?" Hiruma looked at him sideways, but even tipsy, Yukimitsu could see the sly look in Hiruma's eyes. The man wasn't even CLOSE to being drunk, damn him.

"Well, you know, there were always rumors."

"Were there?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Fascinating."

"I thought so."

"Oh really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean...yeah."

They walked another block. Yukimitsu could see the lights from the station. "Yeah, I mean...but one never knows whether to trust rumors."

"Rumors are shit," Hiruma said solemnly.

"That's...what I always thought. Though they say that rumors hold a grain of truth."

"Eh. Maybe. Most of the time it's just shit, though."

They headed down the stairs, through the turnstiles. Yukimitsu looked up at the arrival board. His train should show up three minutes before Hiruma's. They walked down to the platform, which was not nearly as crowded as it would have been six or seven hours ago.

Yukimitsu was suddenly, intensely aware of Hiruma standing next to him. He wondered what the two of them looked like. A worthless bleached punk in black standing next to a respectable businessman, maybe. The thought nearly made Yukimitsu laugh again.

He could hear the train coming, far down the tunnel.

They'd exchanged emails, Yukimitsu thought. Hiruma kept an apartment in Tokyo. It wasn't as if they'd never see each other again. Right? Right.

Then he turned, and Hiruma was watching him, catlike, amused. Damn the man. Would he just let Yukimitsu walk away without saying anything?

Of course he would. Hiruma'd never had any mercy for people who didn't go after what they wanted.

The train rattled its way to the platform, stopping in front of them with a wash of grease-and-dust-scented air.

"Come home with me?" Yukimitsu asked, over the sound of the doors opening.

Hiruma shrugged.

They got on the train.

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Yukimitsu barely got the door locked behind them, didn't even have time to get the light before he had hot hands shucking him out of his clothes like magic. He let them, concentrating instead on getting his own hands up under Hiruma's t-shirt and sliding over warm skin. Hiruma was still thin as a rail and hard as iron, Yukimitsu found, which was fine by him. He wondered if Hiruma was still in the habit of doing one-handed push-ups every day.

Hiruma made an approving noise against Yukimitsu's collarbone, his hands sliding down Yukimitsu's belly. "Mmm...see you haven't gone soft, what with being a fucking lawyer, hmm?"

Yukimitsu had to remind himself to breathe when Hiruma's fingers--those long, wicked fingers that Yukimitsu had got himself off countless times fantasizing about--slid into his underwear and wrapped around him. "T...three miles every day, before work."

"I always did like your dedication." And then there was kissing and tongues, both of them sandpapery with stubble, and Hiruma's teeth were SHARP, but Yukimitsu didn't mind one bit.

Somehow, they got to the bed, then to the little drawer BESIDE the bed, and Yukimitsu was entirely unsurprised when he found himself facedown on the mattress, pointed teeth nipping at his shoulder as those long fingers pressed into him more carefully than he would have expected. He made a rather embarrassing noise into his pillow when the fingers disappeared. Hiruma murmured into his ear, "Hey, fucking baldy, if you hold out, maybe I'll let you fuck me next."

Yukimitsu's cock jumped, his hand clawing at the mattress as Hiruma pushed in, and boy it had been awhile, hadn't it? He breathed, relaxed, gritted out, "Try me."

Hiruma laughed, and Yukimitsu felt it, around and inside. Pressed down as Hiruma started to move, it was nearly perfect, and later, when he had Hiruma Yoichi underneath him, writhing and shouting obscene encouragement and /taking him/?

It was perfect. It was.

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"I'm thinking of quitting the coaching gig."

Yukimitsu propped his head up on his arm. Hiruma was a long dark shape next to him on the bed, sprawled over his half of the bed and part of Yukimitsu's. "Why?"

Hiruma shifted, arm sliding up behind the pillow under his head. "S'no fun. Rui complained that he could never get his team to really WANT to win. Not enough to do like we did. It's the same thing now. I don't push enough, they won't practice. I push too hard, half of them quit. I'm getting too old for that shit."

Yukimitsu smiled softly into the dark. "The Devil Bats were...a once in a lifetime combination."

"Yeah. In college...there were other issues, but I could never really get things the way I wanted them. I thought...if I just tried again, with a team I could build from scratch, it could happen again."

Yukimitsu closed his eyes. "And it doesn't."

"...yeah. And it doesn't." He could hear the scowl in Hiruma's voice. "It's not just the talent. Fuck, right now I'd take the old Yuhi Guts. Or you."

Yukimitsu laughed. "Nice of you to say, Hiruma-san."

Hiruma kicked him under the covers, though if it was for the sarcasm, the laugh, or the 'Hiruma-san' while they were both naked and sticky in bed, Yukimitsu wasn't sure. "You wanted it. That was enough. ...Che. This is fucking pathetic. Nearly thirty fucking years old and still trying to recapture my fucking high school years."

Ah, there was, after all, a mere mortal behind the devil mask. Yukimitsu rolled over, one elbow planted on either side of thin shoulders, so that he could look down and see Hiruma blink. "So you've attained your dream. So you can't attain it a second time. So find another one."

Hiruma scowled, "Fucking baldy, you make it sound like it's EASY convincing myself to care."

Yukimitsu smiled, settling his chin on Hiruma's chest. "Oh, I see. So you're going to give up just because it's hard? Who are you and what have you done with Hiruma Yoichi?"

For a second, Yukimitsu honestly thought that he was going to get punched. Thrown off the bed. Something. Hiruma's body tensed under his, his hand clenching around Yukimitsu's wrist hard, his face twisting with..../something/ in the dark.

Yukimitsu just stayed where he was. He wondered how many close friends Hiruma really had nowadays. He wondered if maybe no one'd ever said things like this to Hiruma before.

He was suddenly and intensely glad he'd called out to Hiruma on the street today. For reasons that had nothing to do with fulfilling a longstanding fantasy of fucking the Devil Bats' demonic quarterback.

The tension stretched for another minute, then disappeared in a bark that might have tried to be laughter. Long fingers reached up, spidering over Yukimitsu's scalp. "Fucking baldy."

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Yukimitsu woke up sometime in the night to the most exquisite blowjob he'd ever had the good fortune to receive already in progress. He reached down and threaded sleep-clumsy fingers through soft hair and barely had to do anything at all before orgasm rolled over him in a slow, hot wave. He thought he should reciprocate but fell asleep before he could actually move.

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In the morning, Yukimitsu woke to an empty bed and a mouth that felt like something had crawled inside and died in the night. He rolled over to the other side and buried his face in the pillow, sneezing when a few stray blonde hairs went up his nose.

A flash of something on the bedside table, next to the bottle of lube, caught his eye. He squinted at it. A lone piece of paper, scrawled in a spiky hand:

"Fucking baldy,
Like I needed you to tell me that.
Fucking email me when you're not doing fucking lawyer things."

Yukimitsu chuckled and dropped his head back to the pillow, breathing in the scent of sake, sex, and gunpowder.

~End