When Kenji reaches his home, he feels truly confident about his course of action. A simple phone call will resolve everything neatly. Usually he detests using phones, as the other speaker isn't visible, making the interpretation of nuances of their speech more difficult. But he feels it will be safer for both him and Uriko to explain that he could never start a romantic relationship over the distance of a telephone line; any emotional blows that might be dealt will be cushioned by their isolation. However, he is hoping to prevent any hurt feelings, so he scripts the ideal conversation during his train ride home and then dissects each line, looking hard for potential misunderstandings and complications. Now confident he has planned for every possible outcome of the conversation, he pulls open the door of the condominium and steps inside, only to have his blood freeze at Yugo's cheerful voice saying, "Hey, Uriko!"

She's here? Kenji runs through his options (take the opportunity to tell Uriko face-to-face, avoid the subject, duck and run) but soon realizes it's a false alarm when Yugo continues, "Yeah, get Alice on the phone, will you?" Kenji takes a few more steps into the foyer and spots his adoptive brother in the living room, comfortably sprawled out on the leather couch. Yugo waves a jaunty greeting before being distracted by a voice from the phone, currently in his hand. "Hello," he replies into the mouthpiece. He grins wolfishly, his voice a trifle deeper as he asks, "What's happening, beautiful?"

The teenager rolls his eyes at Yugo's somewhat foolish-looking behavior. Though Kenji knows very well his brother loves Alice, the superfluous endearment grates his nerves...or perhaps it is just his anxiety about speaking to Uriko rising to the surface. He shakes his head, pushing it back down in his mind, and quickly heads to his bedroom. Homework becomes a distraction as he waits for Yugo to finish with the phone; calculus certainly poses enough challenge to occupy the student. After reviewing the current lesson and completing three problems, he glances at his alarm clock. Ten minutes have passed. Perhaps the lovers' chitchat is done, and certainly, when Kenji pokes his head out of his room, he does not hear anything. But when he looks in the living room, Yugo is still on the phone, now resting on his shoulder. Kenji failed to pick up on the older man's voice because it has dropped significantly, and with the chuckle in his voice, it almost sounds as though he is sharing secrets with his long-time girlfriend.

The open display of intimacy (uncanny, the illusion that Alice is right there, curled up next to her love and whispering honeyed words in his ear) pierces Kenji with a twinge of envy and he quietly retreats to his room. The bitter feeling is, unfortunately, one he is all too accustomed to, living with Yugo--Kenji knows the brash boxer has some flaws, but they are insignificant compared to the man's kindness and confidence, the drive he shows in pursuing his goals, the aura of invincibility he exudes. Kenji idolized his caretaker for these qualities when he was younger, but after his brief life as Bakuryu, the admiration became tainted by more resentful sentiments. Before he had hopes to one day match his brother's greatness; now he knows just how deep his flaws ran and how naive his aspirations had been, like a mortal wishing to be a god, or a puppet desiring to be as real as its maker...

Kenji tries to stop the dark thoughts, replacing them with complex equations and multiple variables, but his mind persists flashing back to Yugo's candidness and comfort when speaking with Alice, and he can't deny it: he is envious of their relationship. As Bakuryu, he had dismissed Uriko as an amateur beneath his notice, but she still befriended him afterwards. As their friendship deepened, he found his interest in Yugo and Alice's courtship deepened, until he was forced to admit that he wants the same for Uriko and himself.

And now it is tantalizingly within reach: all he has to do is say "I love you, too", and his friend will be overjoyed...at least until she realizes what a terrible decision she has made in choosing him as her love. No. He will not take advantage of Uriko. Except his desires run counter to this resolution, arguing that she wants it, too, and he will only be giving her what she wanted, making her happy, and isn't that certainly a noble cause? If she is blind to his faults, that was her own issue; he certainly made them obvious enough.

Disgusted with himself, Kenji pushes away from his desk, his homework still woefully incomplete, and stalks into the living room. The phone discussion has changed to the W.O.C., and it is clear that Yugo is not altogether pleased with this as he tells Alice what Gado could shove up a certain orifice. Kenji can hear Alice's voice rising in pitch on the other end, likely scolding her boyfriend for his short temper. The man sighs before glancing up at his younger brother and mouthing 'what?'

"I need to use the phone," Kenji states. He can go to his own room for privacy, but he knows he has to call Uriko, now, while the planned conversation is still in his head and he held onto his resolution to do what was right for her.

Yugo quirks an eyebrow, but the teenager remains in place, waiting, until Yugo says into the phone, "Listen, I gotta go now. Kenji wants the phone." He smiles unexpectedly. "Love you too, babe. I'll pick you up after your shift and we'll go out somewhere, okay? See you then." He punches a button, ending the call, and then looks up at Kenji. "So what's this about? You hate talking on the phone."

Sometimes, Kenji thinks, Yugo knows him too well. "I'm just calling a schoolmate."

"So it can't wait till tomorrow," Yugo deduces. He holds the device close, absentmindedly tapping it against his chest. "Or," and now a smirk curves his lips as he speaks, "it's too embarrassing to talk about face-to-face."

Kenji has planned for every eventuality of his conversation with Uriko, but he did not plan on being stymied by his older brother's teasing. "Please give me the phone," he says, and knows that was the wrong response when Yugo's eyebrows fly up.

"So it's door number two, then. Hmm...is it a girl?"

"No," Kenji says immediately, but his cheeks feel red and Yugo laughs. Damn it, why is his baiting always so effective?

"Well," Yugo says, rolling off the couch. "You're calling a girl because it's less embarrassing than asking her in person...making a date with someone special?" he guesses, holding the phone out.

Kenji reaches out for the phone, answering curtly, "Calling it off."

And the phone is yanked out of reach. The ninja wonders with some exasperation if it wouldn't be easier to use his superior speed to grab it, but instead he reigns in his impatience and meets Yugo's disbelieving gaze. "Wait a second," Yugo says. "You not only got a date, but now you're trying to cancel it?"

"It was a misunderstanding. She asked and I turned her down, but she misinterpreted--"

"So you weren't clear."

"I...I suppose I could have been clearer," Kenji admits.

"Is she a troll?"

"What--no!"

"And she's not some kind of harpy?" Yugo presses, frowning at the teenager.

Kenji hesitates to answer, unsure where this is leading. "No, she isn't. She's quite nice."

"So why not just go on the date? I mean, you got this girl's hopes worked up and all, and now you're going to break her heart?"

Ah. That's where he's going. It's a tantalizing question: why not? Except Kenji already knows the answer. "It's not like that," he says, and then isn't sure what to say, because Yugo will probably overreact if he realizes Alice's sister is the one whose heart he is going to crush (but it will be a softer blow now than if it came later on).

Yugo waits, patiently, for an explanation; when none is forthcoming, he groans. "Look, whatever you're thinking, I can guarantee you're making it too complicated. A nice girl works up the nerve to ask you out. That takes guts. You can't just give her a chance? It's one date, not marriage. And besides, you could probably use a date, have some fun."

It is only one date, but one date can be enough to change a relationship. Then again, it would take care of his promise to Uriko: just one date, and then afterwards he could explain that he still didn't feel any romantic relationship was right for him, and Uriko would be satisfied. The explanation might not even be necessary. One date might be all it takes for her to lose interest in him; perhaps it is only the novelty that intrigues her.

Yet even though it would make a happy solution to this entire situation, Kenji finds himself depressed by that possibility.

Yugo sighs and finally hands over the phone. "Okay, okay. Go on and make the poor girl cry. It's none of my business."

Kenji scowls at the blatant attempt to manipulate his emotions, but says nothing, instead walking back to his room with the phone firmly in his grip. As soon as the door closes, he dials the Nonomura residence, his thumb stabbing each button in its haste--but he hesitates to press 'send' and actually initiate the call. Yugo does have a valid point: it's only one date. It is not a commitment to anything further--and he did commit to the date by promising Uriko a favor; if he broke his word, it might hurt not only Uriko, but their friendship.

You're being selfish again, he scolds himself, and forces himself to think only of her, what consequences this may have for her, and presses 'send'.

The phone rings twice before someone picks it up. "Yugo," Uriko's voice says with mock exasperation, "she's busy getting ready for her shift now. You're just going to have to hold on and wait a few hours, perv."

The boy finds himself glancing heavenward, wondering just how his brother earned that nickname. "This is Kenji."

There is a squeak and a loud clatter as Uriko drops the phone; her mother's voice is strong and clear as she asks what the girl is doing. "Nothing!" Kenji hears her call back, and then she blurts into the mouthpiece, "I thought you were Yugo!"

"So I gathered," Kenji says dryly.

"Sorry," she murmurs, and though he can't see her face, he knows at the very least she is blushing with embarrassment. "Um...anyways...what's up?"

There is complete silence when Kenji fails to answer. There was a script, and it is still there in his head, somewhere buried beneath Yugo's teasing and Uriko's blush and thoughts of curling up with her, safe and warm, able to say anything without fear of rejection, and that childish voice clamoring I want I want I want. "Mmm, not much," he answers and rakes his hair through his fingers, as though that would sort out the bedlam of his thoughts. "I was just reviewing what we talked about during lunch, and I wanted to tell you..."

And though he's forgotten the script, he can guess what it calls for at this juncture: "I think there was a misunderstanding."

But that's not what he wants to say.

"Kenji?" He hears her climbing up the stairs, possibly to her own room.

I want the distance of a telephone line to be nothing between you and me. I want to feel close to you, no matter how far away. I want to be yours, I want you to really love me--

Selfish.

It's just one date.

"I want to try," he murmurs. Selfish, and he knows it, but now that he's uttered the words he can't take them back and the only way to go is forward. "Maybe I just need to take a chance. So if you have no other obligations--if you still want to," and part of him wants her to say no, now, and end this foolishness, "would you like to go out with me Friday night?"

She does not say 'no'. She doesn't say 'yes', either. Instead, she asks, "Are you sure? I mean, earlier...I don't want you to feel like you have to, just because I..."

He grimaces as he sits down, his fist bunching up the denim of his jeans--because she is thinking of him, when he should have thought of her. "No, it's nothing like that," he reassures her. "It's just been on my mind, and after thinking things over, maybe I've been too hasty in eliminating possibilities."

She lets out a little breath of relief. "Yeah, you're right...it never hurts to try something new. Friday night is perfect for me. See you then?"

"Yes," Kenji says, and squashes the small voice that breathes I love you. "See you then."

"Bye!" she chirps before hanging up; the dial tone that follows underscores the refrain of selfish, selfish, selfish running through his head.