A week has past since. The memories of Midousuji's visit still hasn't lost its magic yet. Ishigaki slides down the wall his bed leans up against. His mind overworked by studies, his body exhausted from practice.

He opens the lock screen of his phone. In the corner there's a small blue icon of a text box. It perks his interested, but it's only his bank reminding him he's about to overdraft if he's not careful. It's stupid, he knows, but at every buzz his phone has made this week, his mind immediately wondered if it was Midousuji finally, willingly, reaching out to him.

Just as he foresaw, there was nothing. Ishigaki was conscious enough to know that if Midousuji had anything necessary to say, he would say it. And like most things to Midousuji, there was nothing of interest.

He rolls over on his side, a heavy breath leaving his nose as he opens his list of contacts. There's a lot he wants to tell him, but he keeps his text simple:

Fukutomi and Shinkai want to celebrate finishing finals! We're eating out tomorrow. If you're bored enough, you should come.

Midousuji had no connection to the two past cycling, and Ishigaki's first assumption is that Midousuji didn't intend to form one, but he knows Midousuji is changing- that he has people, plural, in his life. He's a few steps behind, but he's growing, and Ishigaki smiles at the thought- something fluttering inside him.

Ishigaki wonders if his message is convincing enough, but is soon reminded of the sweet, earthy smell Midousuji's packed lunchboxes smelled of in high school.

I'll pick a place with eel.