Just Friends

Alternate Ending No. 2: Watanabe


Watanabe made his way down the rather sterile halls of the Osaka shogi institute. This part of the building was nothing like the lobby, Watanabe thought, disappointed. The lobby was very much constructed in a traditional Japanese fashion, all shoji screens and bonsai plants. . . this part looked like an office building. Room 405, the receptionist had told him, but he wasn't in a rush to get there. Not that a guy like Watanabe was ever in a rush to get anywhere.

His sister had set this up for him, kind of an early birthday present, knowing that shogi was a hobby of his. Private lessons with a professional shogi player or something like that, Watanabe didn't know. As much as he enjoyed the game he wasn't all that into it, had only gotten halfway through his copy of volume one of Habu no Zunou before tossing it in his closet.

Ah, room 405. He opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Sensei?"

Watanabe froze at that voice, felt his past rushing up at him.

"You're fucking kidding me," he muttered.

"Sensei!" And then he was swept into a bear hug, wondering how it was possible that Chitose Senri had gotten even taller since he had last seen him last.

"Let go, idiot," he said, pushing the boy. . . no, man. . . off of him.

Chitose was grinning at him stupidly, eyes beaming. He looked the same, Watanabe thought. Maybe he was a little bit taller, a little bit wider, but he was still Chitose. But he wasn't dressed in the flowing tunics and flared jeans of his youth anymore, instead choosing to wear traditional Japanese dress. His geta sandals, however, remained unchanged.

"Sensei, what are you doing here?"

"I'm taking private lessons."

If possible, Chitose's grin widened. "That's funny. As it so happens, I'm teaching private lessons."

Of course.

"Chitose, do you know Watanabe-san?"

Both Chitose and Watanabe turned at the voice, and Watanabe noticed for the first time that they weren't the only people in the room. There were two other men. One, judging from his position behind a neat and tidy desk, was a secretary. The other, leaning against the same desk and watching them with amusement, was. . . well, Watanabe wasn't quite sure.

"Sensei," Chitose said, "this is Akira, the community outreach coordination secretary."

Akira smiled at Watanabe and took his hand. "I spoke to you sister on the phone, Watanabe-san. I hope you enjoy your lessons."

"And this," Chitose continued, gesturing at the tall, blonde man about Chitose's age leaning against his desk, "is Inoue. He's another shogi player."

"And you are?" Inoue asked.

Watanabe opened his mouth to respond, but Chitose was already introducing him to the others.

"This is Watanabe Osamu. He used to be my tennis coach back when I was in school. I used to have the biggest crush on him."

"He didn't," Watanabe said, wishing he had a cigarette right now.

"Sure I did. I jerked off thinking about you all the time."

Akira flushed red while Inoue sputtered, but Watanabe didn't react at all. Reacting to a comment like that, he thought, would only encourage some one like Chitose.

"Come on, sensei, let's go to my office."

Watanabe followed Chitose through a door near the back of the room. Chitose's office was actually a pretty tiny room, filled with stacks of shogi books and magazines. The only other thing in it was a shogi board sitting low on the floor, two cushions on either side.

"This is your office?" Watanabe asked, already making himself comfortable on the cushion, leaning against a stack of magazines and spreading out his legs.

"Hmm?" But Chitose was digging through a pile of papers, looking for something. "Yeah, well, it's temporary. I'm going to China for some games soon, and then it's back to Tokyo for awhile. That's where my permanent home is, I guess."

"Sensei, you smoke up, right?" And Chitose had found what he was looking for, was lighting up a rather large, fat joint. "I always thought you were the type."

"You should stop calling me that," Watanabe said, taking the joint from Chitose's fingers to place between his lips. "Aren't you the teacher now?"

"It's kinkier that way."

They passed the joint between them, several times, as the room filled up with smoke.

"Do you remember," Chitose said, his eyes laughing, "we met over a shogi board?"

Watanabe smiled at that. "Yeah. I never thought I would see you again after that day. . . life's funny like that, huh?"

It as only supposed to be a one night stand, but Chitose kept popping into his life.

"Yeah," Chitose replied. "I think it must be destiny telling us something."

"Hmm. Is there really such a thing?"

He was feeling more lightheaded now, that pleasant haze falling over him. And then Chitose was there, hovering above him.

"Sensei," he said, "can I fuck you right now?"

It would be a lie to say he didn't find Chitose attractive. Besides, they were both adults now.

"Do what you want," he said, and then his arm was knocking over some books as Chitose pushed him to the floor.

A week passed before Watanabe heard from Chitose again, the man having slipped from his mind for awhile. It was the end of the marking period, and he was busy grading the flurry of eleventh hour assignments that he had assigned. He had papers sprawled all across the floor of his apartment, Neko-chan padding lightly across them in a vain attempt to get his attention. The orange tabby had her claws on his jeans now, and he gently shook her off as his cell phone beeped from beside him.

He opened it to read the text message there.

"Your house for our next shogi lesson?"

And who else could that have been but Chitose? He had probably gotten Watanabe's number from the institute. Really, Watanabe wondered, what was with kids today and their text messaging. Was it really so hard to make a phone call?

He remembered their last shogi lesson, and how nothing even remotely connected to shogi had even taken place. But, looking around at the papers in the room, he figured he could use a distraction.

"Fine."

And then, as a reply, a big smiley face and the characters "8pm."

Chitose showed up a few hours later, a bag of groceries in his hand. Watanabe blinked at him in surprise, but Chitose pushed his way in before Watanabe could say anything.

"I thought I'd cook dinner," Chitose said, humming a tune as he started taking food out of the bag. He had even brought a frilly pink apron, which he promptly put on.

Watanabe closed the door. He was still slightly dazed, but he figured if Chitose wanted to feed him that was fine. All he had in his refrigerator was. . .

"Are you serious?" Chitose asked. "Why is a store bought bento the only thing you have in your refrigerator?"

"I have some instant noodles in the cupboard," Watanabe replied.

Chitose gave him an incredulous look, but went back to cutting up an eggplant. Watanabe sat at the counter and watched. He hadn't known that Chitose could cook. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things about Chitose he probably didn't know. He hadn't seen him since Watanabe had been his tennis coach. Some time ago Watanabe had heard rumors from his former teammates that Chitose had gone to Todai for university, which didn't surprise him considering the ridiculously good grades Chitose had always managed to pull out with absolutely no effort. But that was basically it in terms of Chitose-gossip.

"So how'd you end up doing this?" Watanabe asked, watching Chitose stir something in a pot. "Going to Todai, you could probably have done anything you wanted."

"Yeah. And I wanted to play shogi." Chitose shrugged. "I always thought it was just a hobby, figured the chances of me being a professional shogi player were about the same as Kenya being a motocross racer. So when he actually left for America to get into motocross. . . well, I figured, what was I waiting for?"

"Oshitari. . . do you still keep in touch with him?"

"Of course," Chitose replied, his eyes half circles as he smiled and nodded. "For that one year, Kura-kun and Kenya were my closest friends."

"Hmm. How nostalgic." But Watanabe couldn't help but smile at the thought that their friendship had remained intact throughout the years.

"Sensei, try this," Chitose said, roughly shoving a spoonful of. . . something into Watanabe's mouth.

Watanabe sputtered around it for a second before being able to swallow it. It was. . . edible. Much better than something he could have cooked for himself.

"Not awful," he said, and Chitose beamed at him in reply.

Over the next few weeks Chitose managed to ingrain himself into Watanabe's life under the guise of their shogi lessons. Cooking dinner, bringing food over for Neko-chan, sleeping over. Watanabe was getting used to Chitose's presence in his life, in his tiny apartment. So much so that it felt odd when he left. That day Watanabe stepped into his apartment after staying late at school. By this time Chitose had managed to steal a copy of his keys, and was usually cooking by the time he got home. He was expecting to smell food cooking in the oven, to hear Chitose's voice singing "welcome home," but all he found that day was Neko-chan mewing at him from the counter top.

Watanabe picked her up and nestled her in his chest, remembering that today was the day Chitose was supposed to leave for China. He opened the window and pulled out a cigarette, trying not to think about how strange his apartment was now that it was silent like this.

"Osamu, you idiot," he muttered to himself, "you weren't supposed to start falling for the kid."

He stared out the window, wondering what Chitose was doing.

* * *

Chitose sat in the back of a car, on his way from Beijing International Airport to whatever hotel he was supposed to be going to. Some representative from the tournament was in the passenger's seat, looking back to point out the sites as they passed them.

But Chitose's mind was on other things. He wondered what Watanabe was doing.

Maybe celebrating the fact that he was gone, Chitose thought, frowning.

It had been nice to run into Watanabe in Osaka. Chitose hadn't been lying when he told his co-workers that he had had a crush on the older man. His mind flashed back to that National tournament they went to together, and he remembered a warm hand on his head, encouraging words when he was feeling lost and lonely from seeing Tachibana again. And then afterwards. . . well, he had gotten over Tachibana, but then he was graduating, and moving to Tokyo, and that had been that.

But then they met each other again so many years later, and Chitose refused to believe it was just a coincidence. But Watanabe had never seemed to warm up to him, even after he had practically moved in with the man.

Idiot, he thought to himself. To Watanabe, it had really only ever been about that one night stand.

Chitose shook his head, trying to clear it of the despondency that was threatening to overtake it. But then his cell phone was ringing, and when he picked it up Watanabe's name was on the caller id.

"Sensei?" he asked, almost dropping his phone in his rush to get it open.

"Hey," Watanabe replied, as calm as ever. "So I have this thing that I want to run by you. What do you think about me moving to Tokyo?"

Chitose couldn't reply right away, such was his shock. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Really?"

"Yeah, well, that old bat Ryuzaki is finally retiring. Seigaku is offering me a position."

"I think you should take it," Chitose replied, a little bit too quickly.

"Hmmm. . . yeah, okay. I guess I will."

"Do you need a place to stay?"

"Idiot," Watanabe muttered, "I'm not moving in with you. I'll find my own place."

Chitose pouted in disappointment, but figured it was okay. Watanabe was coming to Tokyo.

"Oi, I have to go. Give me a call when you get back to Japan."

Chitose was about to say goodbye, but he heard a click, and realized that Watanabe had already hung up on him. His tour guide was looking at him with a bemused expression.

"Good news from home, Chitose-san?"

Chitose smiled. "Yeah. Really good news."

Screw what Watanabe said. . . as soon as he got back to Tokyo, Chitose was going to look for a bigger apartment.

End.