School hallways do not technically count as obstacle course, but Eiji tends to treat
them as such, and Oishi figures that’s probably for the best considering the speed at
which he moves. He’s a body in motion, staying in motion, dodging around clumps of
chattering girls, ducking and weaving to avoid overweighted backpacks and carelessly
slung satchels, twisting his hips to let the freshmen pass him by. It’s all a bit overdone, as
evidenced by the fact that Oishi can walk along behind his effervescent friend in a
perfectly normal fashion with no problems at all, because people do still get out
of the way. But it’s typical of the boy who doodles in class just to have something to with
his hands. His body must automatically fall into these patterns of movement- it’s so
routine that he can hold a conversation as they navigate their way to the nearest exit. It’s
like-

And then a door slams open a little too suddenly and Eiji backpedals in an
instinctive jump that crashes him into Oishi and sends them both careening, unbalanced
and overbalancing by turns, until they land on the floor.

There is a moment of silence that travels in little shock waves up and down the
hall, then Eiji, still dazed, starts snickering at how funny they must look, and it’s over. In
the murmur of renewed conversations, nobody but Eiji can hear Oishi’s little hiss of pain
as he pushes himself to his feet and offers Eiji his hand. Which is probably why he
doesn’t take it, just rises as quickly as possible and pushes up close to Oishi and asks
what’s wrong.

Oishi shifts from foot to foot, testing, wincing a little. "…Nothing."

Eiji’s waves a finger in his friend’s face. "Uh-huh. Ri-ight."

Oishi looks chastised, but- "If I can walk, then it’s nothing."

"But you shouldn’t walk if it might be something." Lips purse. "I know! I’ll carry
you!"

Oishi, who sometimes considers himself straight man to Eiji’s stand-up comic,
can’t help but chuckle, even though he knows the other boy isn’t actually joking right
now. "You do realize that that's physically impossible?"

"Why?" Eiji grabs his hand, looking fully prepared to get into lifting position.

"I’m a little bulkier than you."

"You need to stop stealing my snacks, then."

Oishi opens his mouth to protest that he never- then grins instead, with
Eiji laughing right back at him.

"Fine," Eiji says when they’re done, "But if I can’t pick you up I can at least help
a little." And he pulls Oishi’s arm around his neck one-handed, and loops his other arm
around Oishi’s waist so that in theory he’s supporting some of his doubles partner’s
weight.

It feels a little silly when they move, because Oishi knows that whatever
happened when he fell really wasn’t that bad, and he’s not walking with any particular
limp. It’s just him and Eiji clinging to each other the way they usually do only in
moments of victory. And without the rush of adrenaline he’s really noticing the way
Eiji’s fingers are curled just under his ribcage and Eiji’s hip is running into his hip with
every step they take, and wondering if Eiji’s noticing too…

Momo shouts something Oishi doesn’t catch as the tennis courts come into view,
and Eiji, grin star-bright, yells back that Momo should just shut up, because he’s
carrying Oishi in spirit.

***End
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