late night drives, random detours, and nowhere to be except with each other.
A collection of headcanons inspired by JoyRide by Cortis.
✧˖°. Multi (seperate) - Martin, Seonghyeon, James, Juhoon, Keonho
a/n wow i'm writing on tumblr again so exciting!! Pretend they can drive + I will be doing this for every song on the ep!! Alsooo can someone let me know if the em dash i used in keonho's part was used correctly, im trying to learn to use them lolll. Enjoy!!
Martin
;; Martin’s studio lights are usually the last ones on. Even when he's not technically meant to be working, he is. He quietly hums a gentle rhythm whilst absentmindedly fidgeting with his synthesizer as he begins to compose a new beat. He’s so engaged that he almost doesn't notice the dim illuminating of his phone, signifying that he got a text, from you of course.
‘Are you free right now?”
;; Driving around with Martin never has a set destination, typically just driving around the area and seeing where the roads take you. The soft vibrations of the bass project melodic and psychedelic sounds, filling the car with a sort of nostalgia. You let him control aux since he never fails to introduce you to a new artist that you enjoy. This particular route is especially scenic with the small sliver of sun being ever so visible in the distance creating a beautiful array of purples and oranges in the sky as dusk begins to set.
;; Inevitably, when a seven-eleven shows up on the side of the road, you pull over for a midnight snack. Fluorescently lit and smelling questionably of ready to go pizza with walls of sugary drinks lining the back of the store, it feels oddly familiar in a way neither of you question.
;; He reaches for the drink and the top shelf before you can, waving it over your head playfully. You glare at him, already familiar with his antics, he responds by smiling cheekily, eventually handing the drink over to you, as he always does.
;; The two of you sit in the car longer than necessary, music turned up just enough to mask both of purposefully bad singing, laughing when you mess up the lyrics. Playfully reaching for each other as if you're in a melodramatic music video.
;; Eventually, the laughter begins to settle down and the music fades to something quieter. Martin rests his head back against the seat, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel along to the beat of the song as he continues to drive into the city, streetlights passing by in a slow blur. He glances over at you like he wants to say something, then decides against it. The car keeps moving, and for once, that feels like enough.
Seonghyeon
;; Seonghyeon picks you up as soon as he’s done practice for the day, still recuperating his exhausted energy. His hair is slightly damp, hoodie half zipped, cheeks slightly flushed. He seems to be tired from a long day at work but he still engages in conversation as if being with you gives him an energy boost.
;; Driving around Seonghyeon is calm, the kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling. He keeps the music low and serene, eyes focused on the road ahead. Somewhere along the way, he spots a park and pulls over without hesitation, like it was always part of the plan. You don’t question it.
;; The two of you naturally gravitate towards the empty swing set, playfully competing with each other over who can go higher. The creaking of the swingset mixed with your laughter creates a sort of nostalgia in the air. The two of you continue to squabble over who's going higher, neither of you willing to admit that your legs are beginning to burn. Seonghyeon grins every time he passes you mid-swing. You decide it’s worth the soreness.
;; Laying down on the soft grass, catching your breath. Your gaze shifts towards the sky, the stars are much sharper and clearer here without the city lights drawing them out. Seonghyeon notices your staring and follows your gaze towards the stars. His gaze shifts between the stars and you, as if he's trying to memorize both. He thinks you don’t notice, you definitely do.
;; He starts pointing at random clusters of stars and making up constellations on the spot. You name a constellation after him and he follows up by naming one after you. It doesn’t really make much sense since both of you can barely identify what you're looking at, but that’s kind of the point. The world feels smaller but in the best way as if it was only the two of you in it.
;; After lazing around in the grass for a while, his hand finds yours. He squeezes it tightly once, then relaxes it completely as his eyelids grow heavy and his breathing evens out. You try to stay as still as possible so you don’t wake him. Letting him fall asleep like this feels natural.
James
;; The room is dim, lit mostly by phone screens and whatever’s playing quietly in the background. James sits close enough that you can feel his presence without looking, the brush of a shoulder, soft breathing. Time passes without either of you noticing, an inevitability of doomscrolling. Eventually, one of you suggests doing something else, just to feel awake again.
;; The two of you end up driving around with no real plan, windows slightly ajar to feel the cool nightly breeze, indie music softly playing through the speakers. Along the way, the road begins to curve and the gentle sloshing of waves replaces city sounds. Neither of you say it out loud, you don't have to, you both know where you're heading next. He parks near an empty spot near the shoreline as if this was meant to happen.
;; The beach at night feels so much different at night than at day, it's quieter, softer. The moon cast a silver glimmer on the water, stretching across the horizon and endlessly into the ocean. The air smelt faintly of salt and wet sand, grounding in a way. The emptiness of the beach without its usual daytime patrons almost made it feel like the two of you were in some sort of alternate reality, just the two of you.
;; You walk along the shoreline, deciding to abandon your shoes along the way as sand kept creeping up in them. The sand is warm at first, then begins to cool and cling to your feet as the water inched closer to the shore. At some point, one of you begins to playfully kick sand at the other. Laughter breaks the calm as you both pretend you didn't do it on purpose.
;; When you try to brush the sand off your feet before heading back, it proves useless since the damp sand continues to stick to your feet. You both try to rinse your feet off in the water only for the sand to stick immediately again. Eventually, you both give up, laughing at how pointless the effort is.
;; You settle near the water, finding a dry patch of sand to sit on while watching the moon reflect off the waves. The sound of the ocean fills the space between you two, it's quiet, though not empty. You sit there longer than planned, letting the moment stretch until it feels complete.
Juhoon
;; You wake up Juhoon halfway through his nap, hovering near his bed while he blinks at you slowly, cozied up in his comforter. Still caught somewhere between being awake and being asleep, he mumbles something unintelligible before you ask him if he wants to do something fun. There's a pause, and then a lazy smile forms on his lips as he reaches for his phone. He’s up before he’s even had time to fully process it.
;; The drive takes longer than either of you expect, you curiously look out the window as the city slowly fades into quieter roads. Juhoon doesn't seem to mind; he lays back into his seat and focuses on the road. Small bursts of chatter fill the space with half formed thoughts and gentle laughter. By the time you arrive it feels like you've already been there for hours.
;; The garden is calm, tucked away near the countryside. You walk side by side amongst winding and spiralling paths, admiring the beauty of the plants and pointing out the ones you recognize. Juhoon drifts closer to you, without even realizing it, he matches your space and further engages with your comments about the vegetation, adding in a few fun facts that you didn't know off.
;; At some point he brings out the digital camera he brought and starts taking pictures. He photographs the flower, paths, and you when you aren’t looking. You borrow the camera from him to return the favour, capturing shots of him mid laugh as well as some sneaky candids. These photos will definitely be added to a future insta dump.
;; The two of you end up sitting on a bench tucked beneath the shade of the tree. Conversation begins to slow naturally, the two of you slightly fatigued after accumulating all those steps exploring the garden. Juhoon leans back and rests his shoulder against yours instinctively.
;; You end up ultimately resting your head against his shoulder, gazing out at nothing in particular, shrouds of green and vibrants pinks, purples, and oranges reflecting in your vision. The two of you begin to initiate conversation, talking about anything and everything, your voices low and unhurried. There is no rush to leave.
Keonho
;; Keonho shows up right after dance practice, still wearing his practice clothes and glowing with leftover energy. He doesn't text first, just pulls up as if there is no time to spare. He smiles immediately when he sees you and begins to talk rapidly, radiating a cheerful energy that seems to happen the most when he's around you. It's like your presence flipped a switch in him.
;; He’s been excited about his license lately and has been insisting to drive you around town just because he can. Windows down and music loud enough that you can feel it in your chest as the two of you cruise through the city. He points out random spots as you drive past—thrift stores he wants to take you to, streets where music videos were filmed, a cozy diner he enjoys.
;; You end up stopping at a quiet skatepark, practically empty minus a couple people walking past it. Keonho pops open the trunk and pulls out a skateboard as if he has been waiting for this moment. If you don’t know how to skate, he kindly insists on teaching you and steadies you with his hands when you begin to wobble. If you do, he turns it into a competition.
;; When the skating slows, the two of you sit on a ledge near the skatepark, your legs dangling as a gentle breeze cools your skin. Keonho talks about nothing and everything, the words flowing easier now that fatigue begins to plague him. You listen attentively, leaning closer without thinking
;; As the energy continues to fade into something calmer. Keonho leans back against the ledge, stretching his arms behind him as he exhales. He glances over at you, smiling wistfully like he’s replaying the evening over in his head. The streetlights cast a soft fluorescent glow over the park as twilight begins to set in, the two of you being the only ones left in the park.
;; Time moves forward in a way that feels unhurried. The city feels smaller from here, less demanding. The tranquil air puts the two of you at ease. Neither of you moves, letting the quiet conclude the night for you.
Thank you thank you thank you so much if you read to the end, this was really fun for me to write after being on an indefinite hiatus for 3 years I forgot how hard this was to do 😭😭 also ty for the dividers @uzmacchiato
content: bllk characters and their nicknames (from reader or their own friends)
ari’s note: idk i feel like their names r so nickname-able yk😁 so here we are also i feel like nicknames r so precious and special!!!!
yoichi isagi:
— ichi
he loooves it. only you call him this, it’s a shortened name of ‘yoichi’ and he thinks it’s so cute and easy to say.
— isachi
combination of yoichi and isagi, bachira and you probably made this name together.
also kinda like a cutesy way to say “isagi”.
whenever you or bachira call him this you like to make it looong so isagi feels it’s sooo cute like “isachiiiiiiiiii!!!”
— my best striker
you often call him this when he’s feeling upset or down and you want to cheer him up!!
“even if you lost the game, you are still my best striker, ichi.” oh how his heart softens when he hears that.
—yocchan
his parents call him this! makes him feel like a child again so whenever you call him this he just wants to be babied he goes all soft when you call him “yocchan”.
meguru bachira:
— megu
a simple shortened version of ‘meguru’. he likes when you call him this playfully! it’s so domestic to him
— bee
it could be spelled as just ‘b’ for ‘bachira’ but it’s cuter with the ‘ee’ and make it ‘bee’ so he loves it. you came up with this due to his black and yellow coloured hair!
— beechira
he thinks it’s so silly. he has come to believe he is a bee.
— bumblebee
just like the transformer. he does see that they have similar personalities. curious, friendly, outgoing and silly. he likes this but not a lot of people call him this. he’s happy either way!!! so it’s ok!
— baechira
he thinks it’s funny!! but it also makes him happy when you came up with this name for him since it shows that he is your bae
rin itoshi:
— rinnie
he isn’t sure how he feels about this but you and his friends like to playfully call him this. he does think it’s cute and he especially likes it when you use it to ask him for a favour
“rinnie, please!” he melts.
it’s different when like shidou says it or something though.
“rinnie! i love you!” “shut up”.
— rinrin
cutesey wootsy silly rinrin. sometimes he likes it when you just add more and more ‘rin’ to this.
you often say this when you’re in a rush, y’know? like you’re watching a scary movie and you want to hide in his chest you go, “rinrinrinrinrinrin”.
or when you’re excited to tell/show him something and you just keep repeating his name until he hears you.
— the rin(g)
man. aryu and bachira probably teased him with this just for laughs. with tokimitsu asking them to stop making fun of people’s names but rin doesn’t say anything because he did find it a little funny.
it adds to his scary aura and demeanour. with his bangs that cover his eyes he does look like the ghost from the ring
hyoma chigiri:
— hyo/hyoma
simple and easy. he likes it. it sounds airy to him, just ‘hyo’. you call him this on a daily basis.
“hyo, can you get me some milk? “hyo, let’s watch a movie.” “i love you, hyo.” “are you done doing your hair, hyo?” man, he loves it so much.
— chi
taken from ‘chigiri’ he thinks it’s cute. his teammates call him this sometimes if “chigiri” is too long to say.
— princess
he’s neutral about this. there’s no denying that he does have feminine traits like long silky hair but he has nothing against it.
in fact, he absolutely adores when you call him princess. like when you’re teasing him with, “okay, princess.” he smiles to himself a little and avoids eye contact because he’s so shy.
— onigiri
he likes when you play around with his name, it’s entertaining and you always come up with the cutest names. this is his contact name in your phone.
rensuke kunigami:
— kuni
you call him this more than his first name ‘rensuke’. he has nothing against it though. he loves it just as much as you do. he feels like it’s such a cute name that contrasts his big muscular self.
his teammates want to call him this but he gives no reaction when they call him ‘kuni’. he really only likes it when it comes from you.
— gummy
taken from ‘kunigami’. gummy sounds so cute. you call him this when you spoil him with love and affection, “i love my silly gummy”.
— ren/rensuke
his family calls him this like his mom and dad. makes him feel small and protected.
‘ren’ is also easy to say and remember.
— musclehead
well there’s no denying that he is a gym freak and loves to workout. so he doesn’t say anything.
his friends call him this when they’re joking around so he’s fine with it.
reo mikage:
— reo
everyone calls him ‘reo’ more than ‘mikage’. you call him this on a daily basis because it’s short and sweet.
this is his favourite name.
— mika
taken from ‘mikage’. he feels like it makes a big contrast. ‘mikage’ sounds manly, but ‘mika’ feels more soft and friendly. he looooves when you call him mika even though it’s mostly a feminine name.
— oreo
you call him this when you really want something from him like his attention. he loves it when you drag the name too, “oreoooooo,”
makes him feel like a kid with these silly names.
sometimes you enunciate the ‘o’ and make it, “oh-reo” “oh, reo” “oreo”.
seishiro nagi:
— sei
he likes it! he doesn’t mind what anyone calls him, actually. it’s too much of a bother to care. but when you call him this, he smiles a little.
— shiro
also part of his first name. he finds it funny how his first name can be split into two and still have both be suitable names.
— choki’s dad
his heart swells with pride when you call him this. he’ll even tease you back by saying, “if i’m choki’s dad then y/n is choki’s mom/dad too.”
— nagi seishiro
he knows he’s in trouble when you call his full name. it scares him. his eyes widen a little and he prepares himself for what he did or did not do.
“oh crap, did i leave my socks around the house again? did i forget to lock the front door?”
content: you fell sick and reo spoils you with acts of service, helping you with every little thing - feeding you, cooking for you, etc. mentions of nagi a bit cause what is reo without nagi and vice versa :3
ari's note: plsplspls man's so in love w u that he wants nothing but ur comfort and safety. he prioritises you over anyone, himself included :( he's so cute omd i love him sm
waking up from your slumber, you felt feverish. your body feeling hot but cold at the same time. shuffling around your bed, you reached for your phone on your bedside table, it was already 11am.
that explains the hundreds of messages from your beloved boyfriend, reo mikage.
"y/n??? whr r u?? r u ok?? not coming to school?" were some of his texts.
you were so sick, that you didn't even wake up for school despite the hundreds of alarms you had set the night before. groaning in pain, you sat up and texted back.
"sick, i overslept. not coming to school :,) sorry reo ily"
you hit send and used all your strength to get up and go to the kitchen to find a thermometer and medicine. the floor was cold, the sun was shining in through your windows. as you were searching the kitchen cabinets, your phone pinged multiple times. they were all texts from reo.
"omg ok :( i miss u alr im pretty sure nagi misses u too lolol i'll come over after school to look after u mkay" he texted.
after a few hours of loneliness and quiet, there was a knock on your door. you were cuddled up alone on your couch, watching a movie. medicine, water and other snacks were on the coffee table in front of you within your reach. you didn't move much, only getting up throughout the day to go to the bathroom or to get more snacks from the kitchen.
keys jingled and your door opened, revealing your lovely purple-haired boyfriend. with him was some plastic bags full of food and other items he deemed necessary for your recovery.
"helloooo, my looove! i missed you so much! how are you feeling?" he asked, cheering as he kicked his shoes off and placed them neatly on the shoe rack. he made his way over to you, dropping the bags on the floor and cupping your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your nose - to which you scrunched your nose at.
reo loved to kiss your nose, he thinks it's so cute and intimate.
you leaned into his touch, happy that he's finally here to pamper you.
"i missed you too, reo. i'm still a little sick, but i already ate some medicine so the fever is dying down. i've just been resting here."
he let go of your face and grabbed the plastic bags he had dropped earlier, then proceeding to sit beside you on the couch, "i brought you your favourites! and some of my old clothes for you to wear since i know you love to wear my clothes. you even choose to wear my clothes over expensive designer clothes!"
it was true, reo loved to buy you expensive clothes, perfumes, shoes, bags, and whatnot. he loved to spoil you. and you were beyond thankful for it, but you ultimately loved his clothes because, well, they were his, and they smelled like him.
your eyes brightened at the snacks he brought. but more importantly, you were happy your boyfriend was so caring.
reo's eyes directed to the ramen cup noodles in front of you on the coffee table. his eyes widened in horror.
"have you only been eating ramen noodles since you woke up?" he glanced at the clock, "it's already 6pm. you've been eating noodles for the past 6 hours?!" he gasped.
you giggled at his dramatic reaction.
"no, this won't do. i'll cook something for you, okay? what do you feel like eating?" he asked urgently. he was truly like a mother.
"hmm, ramen." you teased and he pouted, "noooo, my love. you need food, not instant noodles."
"i'll cook you some curry and rice. i saw a recipe online recently, i can try making it for you.” he pondered to himself.
reo gave you a kiss on the nose again before getting up to cook the curry in your kitchen. he practically lived here, he knew where all the ingredients are and where the pots and pans are. he lived in an expensive home with his parents, a lovely house that many people dreamed of living in - but at the end of the day, to him, home is wherever you are.
and right now, he felt so domestic, cooking for his sick girlfriend and doing her chores like washing dishes. the tv show you were watching was blaring in the background as reo cooked in your open theme kitchen which was conveniently placed next to the living room where you were. the layout of the room allowed him to keep an eye on you as he cooked.
soon, the aroma of curry filled the house and you perked up from your seat on the couch, seeing reo’s back facing you as he washed the pots and spoons he used.
he looked so manly. his shoulders were broad, and he was very tall. his hair was tied back into a bun, and the black shirt he wore was almost a size too small for his toned body. his clothes and demeanour completely opposed the silly pink apron he had tied around his waist. you found yourself staring in awe at his back. your heart fluttered.
you found yourself unconsciously getting up from your seat on the couch. the blanket that wrapped your body long discarded. you made your way over to where he was standing in the kitchen and slowly wrapped your hands around his waist. he jolted in surprise.
“woah, you scared me. you okay?” he asked after realising it was you. he resumed washing the dishes and continued to let you embrace him.
“i’m okay. i just wanted your warmth.” you mumbled against his back. reo’s breath hitched a little at the sudden confession, but he secretly liked it - he liked everything that’s going on right now. you hugging him, inhaling his scent, arms wrapped around his waist. having you so close to him where he can practically hear how loud your heart was beating from this intimacy you shared.
the two of you stayed like that until reo was done with washing the dishes. he dried his hands on a dry cloth and turned around to face you.
your hands were still locked around his waist. he looked down at you, with a dreamy look on his face. you looked up, chin resting against his chest and he couldn’t help but giggle at how cute you looked right now in his eyes.
“eat, okay? while the curry is still warm.” he flashed a smile at you and your heart fluttered.
reo is so handsome, you thought.
he instructed you to sit on the couch while he prepared you a portion of the food he had cooked. soon, he walked to you with one bowl in hand and took a seat on the couch.
“here. aaaaahhh,” he said as he took a spoonful of rice and curry, bringing it to your lips.
“reo? what are you doing? i can feed myself.” you giggled, leaning away from his hand. he raised an eyebrow, as if what he was doing is obvious. like you should know what he’s doing.
“what else am i doing? i’m feeding my lovely beautiful girlfriend who’s sick and needs my attention, of course!” he answered, “now c’mon! open up!” he insisted raising the spook to your lips again.
you chuckled and let him feed you. it wasn’t rare for reo to feed you - even when you’re in the pink of health, he always insisted on feeding you.
“at least let me feed you the first bite, then you can eat on your own.” he would say everytime he cooked for you.
now, you were focused on the present moment, treasuring this time when he fed you, cooing at you like you’re a baby - his baby. he just loved taking care of you.
after you had finished your meal, he put the bowl in the sink and cleared up the table in front of you - even sweeping the floor and taking out the trash.
“alright, my love. it’s 9pm, time to go to sleep.” he mumbled, seeing you nod off to sleep on the couch.
he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bedroom, where he gently placed you down. he kissed your forehead and your nose, whispering “good night” and was about to leave the room to clean the kitchen some more until he felt you tug on the hem of his shirt.
“reo… please stay..” you muttered, half asleep but still wary of your surroundings.
“love, i need to clean the kitchen and wash up. i’ll join you when i’m done, ‘kay?” he replied softly, to which you whined at.
“hm, if you really insist,” he said, trying to act nonchalant - but it was no secret he enjoyed being needed by you, it was evident by the blush on his face. but of course, you didn’t need to know that. it’s not like you’ll know anyway, the room was dark. the only source of light was from the hallway that creeped into your room through the gap, and from the moonlight that seeped in through the window. you weren’t even conscious enough to notice the red on his cheeks and ears.
reo found himself tangled in bed with you, feeling you curl up against him. he found himself patting your back rhythmically, almost like patting a baby to sleep. well, you were his baby either way. he felt so ecstatic now, cherishing this moment with you. the soft snores that escaped your lips, the sound of your breathing, your hair that tickled his face and neck, everything about you, he absolutely cherished and loved.
in the comfort of the night, reo couldn’t help but fall asleep with you. you are his home, after all.
reo felt so incredibly lucky to have the honours of taking care of you. but the truth is, you felt even luckier to have a caring and kind boyfriend like him.
Is... is it a popular ship? 😭😭😭 literally popular? To the point of specifying that it's not a romantic ship story...?
omg hi anon!!
tbh idk if it’s a popular ship but the amt of kaeluc content i’ve seen is lowk concerning 😰😰 i obviously don’t support it but it keeps appearing on my tiktok fyp and stuff HAHAH😭 and i js wanted to make sure that no one got the wrong idea abt my work 😅🔥🔥
wwwwud u write for eishtar (me) x yukimiya… answer when u feel like writing hehe
CHILDHOOD BSF! YUKI
Childhood best friend!Yukimiya who you grow up with til the age of 12 until he has to leave due to his mother's decision of him being a model. Despite him not wanting to leave you behind he goes and enjoys the start of his career. You've motivated him to do his best and so he will pour all his passion into becoming a model until the fateful day that you two will meet again.
His career takes off and he ends up entering a prestigious program at the age of 15 for models. Yukimiya ends up competing with various models for brands and despite his workload he still can't forget you; he prays he can see you again soon.
A year later he entered a distinguished college and unbeknownst to him you entered the same one.
Yukimiya felt unprepared—suddenly he wished he didn't pray that it would come so soon, and suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps you weren't just a close childhood friend who aided him, you were something more; his childhood sweetheart.
Stupidly enough, Yukimiya realised in the moment that he could've just asked his mom for your contact info instead of waiting for this fateful day.
The trend in question (basically just inspired by the trend, not exactly)
edit: the link won't work for some reason but its basically where person 1 puts on lipstick then messes it up then person 2 wipes it with their thumb and the camera turns to person 2 them with kisses all over their face dcguyfgideuwi
Would be sort of hesitant but would still say yes regardless. He would try to stay super still so he doesn’t mess you up. Gives a shy smile when you're finished. He gets all shy when you tell him how pretty he looks covered in your kisses.
Isagi, Chigiri, Reo, Loki
Would say yes immediately. He would be so excited to get kisses on his face and couldn’t stop smiling + gets super hyper. Even when you're done making the video he would not take the lipstick off which leads to oval shaped red tints all over his face, but he wouldn’t care and would be super proud of them.
Bachira, Bachira, Bachira
He would probably be the one to do the trend to you. He gives a slight smile between each kiss and teases some kisses down your neck as well as whispering things in your ears, trying his best to get a reaction out of you. Kisses you on the lips at the end just to catch you off guard. You can’t help but admire how pretty he looks with lipstick on which only boosts his ego when he catches you staring at him.
Kaiser, Aiku
At first completely refuses, like he just straight up says no. When you do end up convincing him he complains a bunch but not-so secretly enjoys it, a lot. Would either hid his face from the camera or wear a really bored expression (which obvi isn’t how he’s actually feeling) Now every once in a while he’ll come up to you with a tube of red lipstick and just hands it to you and doesn’t say a word, he just waits for you to finally get it and starts peppering his face with kisses.
♥️ dating itoshi sae in middle school + in which he swears to marry you + headcanons
characters: itoshi sae
- it started off from you offering him your pencils whenever he seems to forget his. then it moved on to you poking at his shoulder whenever he dozed off in class.
- it escalated: where you would list down his homework for him whenever he is away in an important match for school. in which he would return the favour to show his gratitude by buying you little trinkets he thinks you’d like with his pocket money.
- his pocket money wasn’t much, so most of them came from the convenience store close to his home.
- usually they’re ice creams, sometimes they’re pens with multicolour selection.
- sometimes they were packets of lolipops.
- he then starts to invite you to see his football matches- unwilling for you to see him as a clumsy and hopeless boy who can’t study or do his cleaning duties without causing a bigger mess.
- he shows off a little more- refuses to pass the ball to anyone else.
- it ends with him scoring all five goals for his team.
- the cat was out of the bag when he finally decides to man up and hand you an expensive heart shaped box filled with chocolates the next day. (he promised his mom that he’d do the laundry for a month if she brought it for him).
- first thing first: sae is a family man who expects marriage out of this.
- after your second year together, you were presented with a clumsily drawn marriage certificate: with his big handwriting sprawled over the boxes and two other empty boxes- waiting for you to sign your name away/
- sae takes promises seriously: he will make it happen.
- sae who makes thought-filled promises to you:
“ill buy you the expensive stuff once we’re older and i become the best.”
“i can buy that dress for you no problem once i become the best.”
“ill buy you a bigger ring than that.” he once points out, while holding your hand in your pockets on a bitterly cold winter night- when he saw you gawking at a woman getting proposed to.
- sae who tells his family about you.
- his dad tried to tease him, only to be met with sae’s proud face,
“yeah, we’re gonna marry once I become the best”
- sae, who takes his promise so seriously that a new chapter starts with his hand holding yours, hair carefully and neatly swept back, suit thoroughly ironed out, saying:
▸ established relationship, real tooth-rotting domestic fluff
sae doesn’t enjoy his busy schedule, but he gets through it by thinking about coming home to you
sae’s packed schedule for the day began with a medical check-up first thing in the morning. you haven’t stopped asking him to book an appointment ever since he off-handedly mentioned the slight strain in his ankle he experienced after an endurance run that one time. the appointment was duller than he imagined and the distinct smell of hospitals always unsettled him, but at least now he could tell you, with evidence from the doctor, that it was nothing to be too concerned about.
despite his reluctance, sae also did the interviews with those irksome sports journalists his manager had been begging him to do. they were only meant to last an hour at most but the last journalist he spoke with seemed to be armed with follow-up questions for his follow-up questions that sae weren’t even sure what was being asked anymore. after realizing the athlete was going to be late for his next agenda, sae’s manager quickly ushered him out of the stuffy conference room, leaving a couple journalists disappointed for not having the time to pry into sae’s private life.
his next appointment was at the physiotherapy center located an hour and a half out of the city, which he had to routinely visit out of obligation. the only opportunity sae had to eat lunch that day was in the car on the long drive, though he kept from mentioning that small detail to you only because you’d blow a fuse over his tendency to forget his meals. it wasn’t his manager’s fault; sae himself figured a protein shake was a fair substitute.
his last schedule of the day was the intensive afternoon training session with the new football club he’s playing for. including the time it took to return to the city from the physiotherapy center, the training alone took about a quarter of his day, lasting until sunset.
rumors spread, and your friendship with sae gets complicated enough to help you fix your problem
( ? ) itoshi sae x fem!reader
( ! ) probably ooc sae, supposed unrequited pining, time skips, meet again, failed date shenanigans, getting together, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS!!! this is so. terrible actually omfg.
“i think i like itoshi.”
kamiko pauses mid-lick on her popsicle as she follows where your eyes are intently focused: a nimble boy with pale brown-red hair, swerving a soccer ball around like it’s one with him, just another limb.
“sae-kun?” kamiko asks, brows furrowing. “aren’t you friends with him?”
“mhm.” you nod, watching him play with a bright smile. your view of his play isn’t hindered even from behind the fence.
the ball drifts past right in front of where you and kamiko are situated side-by-side on the grass; then, a gust of wind howls past and flaps your hair, and the culprit is in the form of itoshi sae, who looks as if he’s barely moving with how seamless he moves across the field of heaving boys.
there’s something entrancing about how he handles the ball—ruthless and decisive. in class, he’d just be sitting by himself, bored, while people flock around him like moths to a flame. but here, he’s thriving, nearly smiling if you know itoshi sae well enough. and you do.
even under where the sun is too high, and you’re feeling too warm in this light shirt, sae is untouched.
“he’s really cool,” you continue after a beat, and kamiko harrumphs.
“i like sae-kun, too,” she declares.
“oh,” you blink. you suppose best friends don’t have a free pass. “should we rock, paper, scissors it?”
you do rock, and she does scissors. you let out a little, woo! because you don’t get to win this often. rock, paper, scissors is always the easiest way to settle things.
“this is stupid!” kamiko fumes, her ears red from embarrassment.
you laugh, waving it off. “sorry, miko-chan. d’you want my candy as truce?”
kamiko pouts and takes it from you, still huffy and pouty.
when you turn back to watch the game, there’s a second where sae catches your eye, wiping sweat off his forehead. it spears into you, as sharp as how he sent the soccer ball straight in the net moments ago.
yells, cheers, the ball falls back onto the grass, sae quirks an eyebrow, waving once— victory—! your pulse jumps, and you barely have a moment to wave back.
blinking again, he’s already turning away, leaving you lost like you just lost a goal to him.
“hey,” kamiko nudges you, “you okay?”
you stare after sae’s back, heart racing. “it’s nothing,” you finally say, and kamiko’s brows are furrowed as she looks at you.
the day starts as usual, and it makes you feel off.
nothing seems out of place. your bed is exactly where it’s supposed to be; breakfast is your favorite, served precisely how you like it. you even arrived on time for class. nothing seems wrong, and it’s making you nervous because there’s a clawing feeling in your chest for no reason.
there seems to be nothing but clear skies, sunny with bright blue. birds singing, leaves fluttering and crunching under your feet, and the way to school is just smooth sailing. there is nothing out of place.
but the moment you step onto your classroom, everyone’s gazes cut into you. there’s a gleam in all of them, making you seize up, glancing around warily.
“what?” you ask defensively, scowling.
“hey, y/n-chan, is it true that you like sae?” one of your classmates asks, wearing a smile that spells out nothing but trouble.
“what…?” you stare at him, bewildered. “where did you get that?”
“from everyone, really. it was a hot topic earlier, didn’t you hear?”
it shouldn’t make you feel as shameful as it is, but the way everyone in the room is giggling and the way their eyes feel like they’re everywhere—in each corner of the room, on the floor, groping your body—makes you want to leave the room right and there, yet your feet are glued to the floor.
“you’re crushing on your friend? that’s so awkward!”
“way to ruin your friendship with someone like sae-kun…”
“haha! you think you have a chance, y/n?” someone else whispers from the sides. “that’s so brave of you.”
mortification boils in your stomach, and you feel it in the way your throat constricts, and your hands shake. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” why do they care? do they have to stare this much?
“you’re so nervous!” she laughs, leering cruelly. “so it’s true!”
“leave me alone,” you snarl, fuming. with anger or humiliation? you don’t know.
all you know is that you only told one person about it, which can only mean one thing. you catch her eye, and at least, kamiko has the decency to look guilty.
you don’t know what went down earlier and what you did to make kamiko spill your confession, but what’s done is done, and there’s no use denying it when you’ve already lashed out.
you push past the students crowding around you and tune all their mocking sneers out, wishing the day would just end already.
you could get out right now, leave the room and pretend you were sick to not face any more of their suffocating scrutiny. but that is admitting defeat over petty gossip, and you will not have them winning over you just because of a stupid crush.
the door creaks open again, and the whispers increase with fervor and strength. a chair screeches against the tiles before it pauses, and suddenly everyone shuts up. you can feel someone’s stare drilling craters on the back of your head, but you don’t trust yourself to be able to look back, knowing who it is without even trying.
“y/n.”
you bury your face in your arms.
sae tries again. “who did this to you?”
“not now, itoshi. leave me alone.”
“stupid,” sae grumbles under his breath.
that day, when you shove past everyone and ignore kamiko and sae calling after you, is the day any affection towards sae is buried by disgust towards yourself.
your prayers are answered when news spreads out that sae is off to spain the next day.
it is sudden, despite his younger brother answering questions saying that yes, he’s already been planning to for a while; no, this is not sudden. and you know it, too, because sae told you about it before; you were just not expecting it to be this soon.
however, coincidence or not, you’re just relieved to know that you don’t have to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend ever again.
someone jokes that you scared him away, and you tell them that you’re grateful you did before you punch someone in front of him.
he never said goodbye.
whatever. he’s probably disgusted at you anyway.
(he becomes a star; you forget about itoshi sae for years.)
YEARS LATER.
“ahhh—finally!” kamiko wails, stretching her arms over her head at what looks to be a painful angle.
you groan, nearly losing balance and passing out on the floor, but unfortunately, kamiko is quick enough to tip you back. “ugh, that felt like ages. what if i just drop out? i could just do that now.”
“don’t,” kamiko laughs, patting your head lightly, pinky high and everything, “you’ll die worse than before if you give up now.”
you swat her hand away.
it took a while before you and kamiko got along again.
years, even. you think you still can’t accept her apology, but eventually, you got over your crush, people stopped talking about the incident, and your bitterness towards her left along with it. not like you could even try getting rid of her when she trails after you like a lost puppy, anyway.
so now here you are, in a reluctant friendship with kamiko, despite everything. it’s not worth losing a friendship over some boy, whether or not it’s itoshi sae.
so long as she knows what she did was wrong, she’s fine, you suppose. she hasn’t done anything else after that, so you let it be.
“you’re right. i can’t drop out when finals just ended,” you sigh, slumping. “i’ll do it when the next term starts so i don’t put myself through that again.”
“so dramatic,” kamiko giggles. “i’ll support whatever you do, okay?”
you roll your eyes, hip-checking her. “i know.”
like every poisoned teenager in the modern age, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through as kamiko lists off her plans for the entire school break. something about flying out of the country for vacation, and you should consider coming. (the answer is no, obviously.)
“don’t hole yourself up in your room, y/n-chan!” kamiko scolds; it reminds you of a fretting mother hen. “that’s not healthy. we don’t get breaks often—have fun with it as much as you can.”
“okay,” you murmur, only half-heartedly listening in lieu of searching for a new series to binge over break. there’s nothing interesting. you scowl.
“hey, look,” kamiko remarks, tapping at your screen to pause at one article. “my feed has been all about soccer lately, too. i never even liked anything about sports!”
“weird,” you agree, but you don’t think too much about it. the familiar view of your neighborhood washes over your eyes, and you pause, . “hey, my stop is here. see you after break?”
kamiko pecks your cheek, “see you, then!”
you bid goodbyes, and the day should end just like that: on a high note, free from the shackles of student torture. when you reach your home, though, the weariness is overshadowed by sudden restlessness.
“ugh,” you say again because you already know what to do to cool off.
a school break is exactly what you need.
a school break should be spent at home, probably lying on the bed sleeping, and if not dozing off, then just lying somewhere with music blasting to muffle any thoughts in your head. it is meant to relax, waste time away, and regret it the next day because you never did anything you wanted to.
but the weather is still perfect; the setting sun isn’t smothered by gray clouds, nor is the wind sipping warmth off of your body. it’s not every day your mood matches the weather, so you get up, dress nice enough to not look like a zombie who had to take a math exam, and head out.
“stupid kamiko and her romanticized lifestyle,” you gripe, hugging your arms when your pace picks up speed. “’s starting to get to me, too.”
the theaters could be a good place to start, you muse, scanning the posters on the walls.
superhero action? eh. cheesy romcom? maybe not when you’re still reeling from finals. horror? might scare the stress away, sure, but the movie doesn’t look appealing.
you move to the next, when out of the blue, a body pushes up against you, almost shoving you to the screen.
“hey, back up a little, would you?” you hiss under your breath, spinning around to face a man that makes you pause for a moment out of surprise. he’s crowding behind you like he wants something, and he is suspiciously familiar—you just can’t put a finger on it.
he lifts an eyebrow. “you talking to me?”
your face scrunches, curiosity shattering instantly. “who else is there?”
“no.” the man shakes his head, staring right at you. “you talking to me like that?”
“okay, you don’t have to be a little—”
he scoffs, and that constipated, dead-inside face he’s making clicks puzzle to its empty slots.
that aggravating attitude, exuding confidence and arrogance with every word; two thick strands of hair framing the sides of his face, and that biting stare in green eyes—
“itoshi?” you blabber, dumbfounded.
you’re not sure why you didn’t recognize him instantly, but now that you are, you almost want to let your jaw hang open with how much he’s grown into his features, all spiky strands and soft skin.
the years have been treating him a little too well, it seems.
sae’s eyes sharpen at you before he quickly looks around, surveying the oblivious crowd—utterly unaware of japan’s golden boy cornering a helpless little you in front of a movie poster.
you follow his gaze and snort at his wary expression. “are you hiding from someone?”
sae’s gaze swivels back, and suddenly, your laughter dies down. “come watch the movie with me.”
you turn behind you, gazing at the poster featuring a boy jumping high up in the air, reaching for a ball, then back to itoshi sae, who looks like he’d rather bury himself on his bed than be here.
“we haven’t even seen each other for so long.”
sae looks at you with an expression that speaks: so?
“this is…” you slowly say, “a volleyball movie.”
again, with the look: and i care, because…?
you splutter, hands raised in defense. “well, isn’t soccer your whole shebang?”
“you like it,” he says, unblinking, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the poster, “we will watch it.”
“i didn’t even say anything about liking it—”
seemingly having enough of your stalling, he tugs on your wrist and leads you to where the movie you “chose” is showing. you keep talking in hopes of scaring him off to spain once again, but he seems determined to ignore you, and it’s not in the way you need at the moment.
since when did he even get tickets?
“at least take me to dinner first, jeez,” you grumble when he leads you to two seats in the far corner.
“it’s not like i’m asking you to sleep with me. and aren’t movies counted as dates?” sae counters easily, plopping down on the seat next to you, as if he didn’t just drag you into this just to hide from god knows who.
“okay, genius, answer me this: who are you even running from?”
sae isn’t the type to squirm, but the face he makes might as well be the closest you can get out of him. “i don’t want to do stupid photoshoots.”
although your friendship with sae felt mostly one-sided because of how inexpressive he is, you’re glad you can read him more easily than anyone else. it makes you feel giddy, even if you know that he never explained why he didn’t say goodbye, and your last interaction was, to be frank, mortifying.
but right now, he isn’t saying anything about it. he isn’t even looking at you’re a pebble he kicked off the side of the road, like he usually does to everyone else. so this might be good—maybe sae actually has a heart in there, willing to spare you from embarrassment just to continue this friendship.
even when here, he’s a celebrity, and you’re just a childhood friend who had a crush on him.
you might have liked him because of that—a star the world can’t handle just yet in the body of one boy. he lets you stay by his side, even if you could never follow after him. he’s always there; if he’s not, he comes back somehow, a pull of gravity bringing you together.
with a long, dragged-out sigh at that thought and this situation, you lean against the headrest. “i’m on school break. i wish you just chose some pretty girl to drag into your undercover mission.”
“i did.”
you turn to face him with a grimace, but he’s looking right at you without a hint of amusement. just faint confusion, as if he’s wondering why you’re even wishing for something like that.
deciding to ignore his comment, you continue, “i feel like i’m about to get handcuffed the moment someone sees us together. not the best way to spend my break, itoshi.”
“you won’t,” sae huffs, and it almost sounds like a laugh. “just watch the damn movie.”
stunned at the slight upturn of his lips, you wordlessly watch the screen in front of you, but nothing about it is on your mind and is instead on the boy who you never thought you would see again.
(as always, even with blaring signs and butterflies in your stomach, you choose not to overthink it.)
“i can’t believe you sat through the entire movie,” you remark as soon as the credits roll, chuckling from disbelief.
sae usually leaves halfway through and doesn’t remember anything about it the moment he steps out. that is, if he even bothers watching in theaters in the first place. it’s soccer, soccer, soccer for him, and there is no hope in getting him out of it.
he faces you with a blank stare. “if you wanted to leave, you could’ve just told me.”
“and do that to you when you looked so captivated by a volleyball movie?” you snort, recalling the near-starstruck expression on his face you caught a glimpse of during the climax of the movie. “i’m no monster, itoshi.”
sae blinks, turning away with a scowl. “you were seeing things.”
you give him a helpless, fond smile and thank the heavens he doesn’t see it.
abruptly, he stands up and begins walking away, taking your hand along with it. his hand is warm, and your face is getting warmer, borderline hot, the more he continues doing literally anything.
for someone hiding from a photoshoot, he sure is roaming around with someone else in tow too freely.
“let’s eat dinner.”
“what? stop taking me hostage,” you whine, wriggling in his grip. onlookers give you glances before double-taking when their eyes catch a glimpse of an itoshi sae out in the wild. “i know you missed me and all, but if you keep dragging me everywhere, i’ll start screaming for help.”
“y/n,” he warns, with a slight glare.
you’re pretty sure your eyebrows reach your hairline hearing that from him. a pause, then: “you still remember my name.”
sae frowns. “what do you take me for?”
“an asshole.”
he shrugs and doesn’t deny it. “we were best friends.”
right, your gaze rips away from his, frowning at the floor. best friends. were best friends, ex-friend, classmate from years ago—that’s what you are to sae right now, and who are you to force yourself any more into his life again? look at how that ended up last time.
“actually,” you rip your wrist away from his grasp, trying to hide the hurt that is probably flashing across your face, “i don’t know if i want to eat dinner here, itoshi…”
sae’s frown deepens, but thankfully doesn’t push. “then, give me your number.”
“my number…?”
“you didn’t have a phone before i left,” he explains, with a hand patiently stretched out. “give me your number.”
you reluctantly grant him your phone to show the screen where a series of digits are displayed. dutifully, sae types it down on his own phone, which is probably the latest brand of the most expensive one you can think of.
“what is that for?” you ask, belatedly, once sae’s handed your phone back to you.
“you said you’re on school break. i’m taking you out tomorrow.”
“take me out?”
sae quirks a brow, amused. “are you complaining? didn’t you used to have a crush on me?”
you feel your face go up in flames, mortified. “had. had! that was ages ago. i don’t—”
of course. of course sae didn’t forget! he wouldn’t bring it up early to scare you off into spain, and now he’s cornered you right where he wants you. damn him!
sae tilts his head, inching closer, “you don’t?”
the whiff of his cologne and the dizzying proximity kills off the lies you were about to spew.
with a cough, you glower, “didn’t know you were so obsessed with me that you still remember something as stupid as that.”
he huffs a short laugh and lets you reel from assumptions by staying silent.
god, does he have to be so infuriating? you can almost feel your collar looming over your pulse the more those sharp green pierce straight right at where it hurts the most.
fuck.
this is the part where you realize that even after all this time, sae is still infuriatingly handsome. and even now that you’re mature and can tell right from wrong, you’re still attracted to him. gravity pulling, tugging right back into his palm.
(he is a star; how could you even think of forgetting about the same person you orbit around?)
you slam your hands on the counter, startling your friend into nearly dropping her phone straight onto the marble floor. “i like itoshi sae,” you declare, and recoil at saying that out loud.
kamiko perks up in confusion, blinking owlishly. “what?”
“i like itoshi sae,” you repeat, horrified. “again!” as if once wasn’t traumatizing enough.
she realizes she heard it right the first time and her jaw drops to the floor. “wait, how? what happened? what the hell did i miss? break just started yesterday—”
“he’s back in japan!” you weep, clutching your head with a grip strong enough to rip skin. “and i ran into him…?”
“is that a question or a statement?”
“shut up! he, like, roped me into watching a movie with him, and we spent the entire night together—”
“you had a one-night stand with itoshi sae?”
“not like that!” you shriek, heart bursting so wildly that blood rushes to your cheeks instantly. the implications of that are something you want to ignore. “i was just his… one-night girlfriend. except we didn’t do anything, it was barely even a date.” admitting it aloud makes you realize how stupid it sounds.
“y/n-chan!” kamiko gasps, eyes sparkling so bright you’d think she’s trying to blind you from excitement. she ambles over and grabs both of your hands. “y/n-chan, that is so incredibly stupid of you; you have to tell me everything that happened!”
“hey.” you frown, scandalized. “didn’t you like itoshi, too? and we fought over him through rock, paper, and scissors.”
kamiko’s eyes widen comically, slapping a hand over your mouth. “don’t say that!” she hisses, looking around as if you two aren’t the only ones in her kitchen. “my boyfriend might beat up your boyfriend before he even gets to be your boyfriend!”
the thought of kamiko’s spindly-built boyfriend fighting against soccer genius itoshi sae is a hilarious visual image.
“i’d like to see him try,” you laugh, pulling her hand away.
kamiko lifts one eyebrow, clearly wanting to point out that you didn’t deny anything about sae being your boyfriend. she pulls out her phone and starts researching, looking for any juicy information about japan’s golden boy. “i didn’t know itoshi-kun was back here. is that why my feed has been bombarded with soccer news?”
“i didn’t know either,” you wail, rolling your head to face heavenwards, ready to be taken in. “if i did, i never would’ve gotten out. i wouldn’t be in this mess, then. you’re leaving tomorrow, right? take me with you. i’ll start packing.”
kamiko shakes her head, drawing you back to her. “i’m sorry, y/n-chan. you have to face this like a real man!” with a free hand on your shoulder and fists pumping for effect.
you scowl. she’s betrayed you twice now. “weren’t you the one who wanted me to come!?”
kamiko turns back to her phone, curious. “hey, look. there was an interview earlier…”
sae texted you that same morning after that conversation with kamiko, telling you that he wanted to meet up and see you again. he said he still wanted to eat dinner and asked if you still didn’t want to, but after witnessing the car crash of an interview, you demand answers from him.
right now, though, you’re suddenly regretting not bringing a coat and scarf large enough to avoid any passerby glancing at you and wondering why you looked so familiar.
speaking of:
“hey, did you hear about itoshi’s interview?”
“what? what? itoshi the soccer kid?”
“yes! he said he’s seeing someone!”
“he can’t be! he hasn’t even met me yet!”
“was it the girl people saw with him last night?”
“wow, and here i thought his kind aren’t the type to be interested in romance…”
it’s that interview again. they haven’t stopped talking about it since the release. is that the easiest way to hook the entire population’s attention? stir romance and some celebrity in a pot, and suddenly, it’s pouring out money.
you want to muffle both your ears with your palms, but that would draw more unwanted attention, and you’re already running a bit late to your “date” with itoshi sae.
your heart is pounding. you want to get in there and hold it until it calms down.
“y/n.” a hand catches your arm, tugging you to a chest.
sae is holding you. “you almost ran past me.”
you blink, eyes round. “i was running?”
“from me, it almost seemed like,” he says, and pulls away only to take one good look at you. “you dressed up.”
“i did for you,” you nod, pleased, because you know he means that he thinks you look good. but no. first: “i might’ve been running because of that interview”
sae’s composed expression wavers, for a moment. he avoids your eye, glancing around with deeply furrowed brows. for anyone, he looks like he somehow got stomach cramps, but to you, this is easily translatable as sae being flustered.
“there is nothing to explain.”
“itoshi.” you grab him by the shoulders, heart racing and eyes wild. “you dragged me into a movie date last night. if it turns out you’re already in a relationship, i am going to kick your ass all the way to spain for playing with me—”
sae cups both of your cheeks in return. “i was talking about you, stupid. who else would be there? you think i’d look at anyone else?”
sae glowers at the ground when you try to meet his eyes, murmuring, “there are not a lot of things in japan that interest me. i have my own goals, but i am not immune to this. if you weren’t here, i wouldn’t bother staying— why are you crying?”
“itoshi!!!!” you hug him, sniffling. “i thought— i thought you left and didn’t care for me anymore! i thought i scared you off to spain when you heard about my massive crush on you!”
sae’s face is a mix of constipated and flabbergasted, but he doesn’t make any move to push you away. “what do you mean? you already knew about my feelings for you.”
“...when?” if sae confessed to you in any way, you definitely don’t remember anything, which means it never happened. if sae ever proclaimed his love for you, it’d be the only thing on your mind.
“we went on a date.” sae looks as confused as you are. “did you not know? it was obvious.”
“...what about your attitude made it obvious!?”
“you’re into my attitude.”
“shut up, itoshi.” you lightly hit his chest, overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions that keeps crashing over your soul, “promise me i’m not just a one-time thing?”
“never. you’re never just that.” much to your surprise, sae pulls you in by the waist and smiles. it’s small, barely visible, but it’s still there. “and it’s sae, dumbass. can we get on with the date now?”
“—another question, itoshi-kun,” the interview starts, sliding closer to the edge of her seat to inspect any of itoshi’s micro-expressions (not that she’d get any since sae can easily compose himself, and only those who can understand him well enough can look past that), “pictures from last night are spreading like wildfire! tell us, who were you with?”
sae doesn’t hesitate: “it’s none of your business.”
“hm, but you sure didn’t act that way when you let yourself be seen in public like that,” she says, and though her expression doesn’t give it away, she’s riling him up on purpose.
itoshi’s eyebrow twitches slightly. he looks impatient. “i’m not ashamed to be seen with her, so don’t fucking bother trying anything. what i have with her is out of your concern.”
“so, does that mean—”
“yes, i’m seeing someone,” he cuts her off smoothly, running thin, “and yes, who you saw is the one for me. are you going to keep asking questions unrelated to soccer? i’m going to leave.”
he does leave before the interview can even reply, checking his phone and typing:
sae
let’s meet again.
i want to see you.
a/n: just wanna say: i literally know NOTHING about this man and only based his characterization off of glimpses and scenes i saw from the manga (and for me to translate a soccer match to a romantic fic is torture). so the fact out of everyone in blue lock, a fic about sae has the highest word count is insanity. i need to balance it out with bachira and isagi fics asap.
; ↠ itoshi rin sees you every morning at 7. the moment you smile at him, he knows it's all over.
## author's note: i went thru the 7th circle of hell and a pack of malboros while writing this. enjoy!
## contents: itoshi rin x reader, gn but feminine details, crushing, canon-compliant i think? idk ur both like 17 so it works, confessions and fluff!
## wc: 13.2k (i'm unwell)
itoshi rin likes to count the people as they board the train. it's a habit leftover from his childhood, where he'd sit with his little legs swinging, pointing everyone out to his brother. (passenger 4 wore blue every day, and passenger 18 always had cat fur on his coat, and so on.)
he collected minute details to store in his head, a way to de-stress from the rush hour of his life. every morning at 6, he'd go on a run, and then from his final destination, he'd take the train back. rin was a regular, and an observant one at that- so it was only a matter of time before he noticed you.
you sat diagonally from him, always with your hands in your lap, twirling around the loose threads on the cuffs of your sweater. that was the first thing he noticed about you- the white cable-knit zip-up you frequently donned.
it looked nice on you, he thought. you seemed cozy, almost, as cozy as one could be on a train at 7 in the morning. rin wondered where you were going, since you appeared too young to have a corporate job.
you were on the train whenever he boarded and got off 2 stops before he did. and itoshi rin couldn't help but watch as you left. you carried a canvas tote with a familiar character that he couldn't quite place, and you'd always smiled warmly at the sweet old lady to your right. there were paint splatters smudging your shoes and rin wonders if you liked to draw.
he’d never ask, though. because why would he? you were a pretty person on the train, and he was just another passenger.
rin thinks he’ll settle for just watching, for now. he never expects you to look his way.
it’s a cloudy thursday when you aren’t sitting at your regular spot for the first time in at least a month. rin shouldn’t feel a tinge of disappointment, the way he does in the pit of his stomach now. he doesn’t even know you, so who is he to be upset by your absence?
it’s not until he takes his own regular place that he realizes- you weren't missing. you'd just shifted seats. you were next to him, now, bag in your lap and hands rested on top of it.
rin snaps his head away from you as soon as he realizes you're there, and he can feel his ears burning. you're not even looking at him, exchanging amicable conversation with the same elderly woman, who is now across from you rather than next to you. there's a mother with a little sleeping boy on her lap occupying your regular place, and he presumes that's the cause of your breech of pattern.
he's snapped back to reality when the old lady laughs and says a name that sounds so honeyed and sweet that it couldn't belong to anyone but you.
"you're just the funniest," chuckles the woman, "makes me feel young again."
your smile is wry. "i guess i picked that up from you, mrs. sato."
rin doesn't quite mean to eavesdrop on your quiet conversation, it kind of just happens. you were right next to him, how could he not? and he also didn't mean to sneak glances towards you whenever you were turned away. that was also an accident, a slip-up he was very grateful that no one else picked up on.
it wasn't his fault that you looked even prettier up close. it wasn't his fault that he wanted to memorize how you looked when you smiled, down to the minuscule creases and lines of your cheeks.
you bid mrs. sato goodbye with a polite tip of your head when the train reaches your stop. your shoes have new paint stains, and your jacket is collecting more lint. rin wonders if you've noticed. and he watches you go long after you're gone.
he's not expecting to be addressed, so it takes a few tries before mrs. sato gets his attention.
"hello! young man! hello," she waves a wrinkled hand in rin's face and he turns to her.
"so..." her eyes shine with a childlike mirth and rin is a bit scared because what is going on?
"you're not as sneaky as you think you are, boy."
rin stiffens. "what?"
"i see you peeking at my dear friend."
he blinks, unsure how to reply. it's not everyday that the 70-something year old woman your totally-not-a-crush is friends with confronts you about your staring problem.
"huh?" he asks dumbly.
the old woman rolls her eyes and the train lurches to a stop. "well. i'm out of town for who knows how long, and i wouldn't want them to be lonely. i'm sure you wouldn't, either."
she stands with a joking wink and rin fights the embarrassed scowl from creeping onto his face. he's positive that he's red right now, and he's giving his all to not be disrespectful to this elderly woman in public.
"well, be good to them." rin opens his mouth but she's already hobbling away. he sinks back into his seat and wishes it would eat him alive.
rin sees you the next day, sitting in the same place as you were yesterday. he shifts to put a little more space between the two of you, a little embarrassed- his breathing is still heavy from his run, and he's sure he smells of sweat.
you notice and give him a soft smile, though something akin to confusion muddles your eyes. you must be wondering where mrs. sato is, but you don't bring it up.
"sorry," you apologize for nothing. you also scoot a little to the side, and rin almost wants to say 'no, don't move further, you didn't do anything,' but that would be creepy and he doesn't want to be that guy.
so instead he fights his resting bitch face and gives you a sharp nod without meeting your eyes, because his face is already hot from hearing your voice say a single word and he is rather humiliated by his limits. "you're fine."
rin thinks he sounds like a strangled cat and he'd punch himself in the face if you weren't right there. but you give him a smile, and he feels a strange elation, and god, was it always this warm on the train?
"you're on this train every day, right?" your voice is hushed, and rin wonders if it's because you're trying not to disturb the mother and her child (who are still cuddled into your usual spot) or if that's just your demeanor. either way, he wants to find out. he wants to know you.
"i am."
you seem to consider his words for a moment and rin realizes that this means you know him. or, at least, know of him. you've seen him every morning just as he's seen you- the realization sends a strange spark through his stomach.
"where are you headed to so early?"
"home. i run out here and take the train back."
"you're a runner?"
"something like that."
you hum, and before you turn away, rin speaks again. "where are you going?"
he watches as you turn your head back towards him, a genuine smile forming on your face. "i work at a primary school. it's not an official position, but i'm kind of the art teacher."
he raises his brows. "art teacher?"
"yeah! i started off as a volunteer, but i guess i fit better since i'm younger than regular teachers," you shrug, and rin thinks he could listen to you talk forever.
your voice is beautiful, he thinks. it suits your name, and you face, and he can't think about it much longer because otherwise he'll start burning alive. he's still not looking at you when you introduce yourself, because for the sake of his dignity he doesn't think he can.
he already knows your name but he thinks it sounds even prettier falling from your lips. and god, he messed up, because now he's thinking about your lips.
"itoshi rin," he manages to get out when it's his turn to introduce himself.
"itoshi rin," you repeat, and the boy thinks he might die right then and there. what is wrong with him?
you're about to say something more but you get a look out the window and realize it's almost your stop. grabbing your bag, you stand as the train stills.
"this is me. i guess i'll see you tomorrow, then."
"see you."
and then you're gone, just like that. the morning train is silent once more, save for the whirring as it begins to run again and the footsteps of passengers finding their places.
rin decides that he can't wait until tomorrow. he's not sure why.
over the next few days, you and rin grow closer. or, you'd like to think you've become closer. you talk a lot more, about everything, and he sits and listens.
he knows about your favorite student at work, and how he had given you the doraemon tote bag that you always sported for your birthday last year. he knows about your cat named snorkel and how your friends always tried to set you up on dates. he knows about your favorite foods and how you hated sleeping with wet hair.
and rin decided that he would do anything to hear you talk. he acted uninterested, sure, but he hung off every word you said. he engraved every single sentence into the details of his memories, stowing away any information you'd give him in the catalogs of his brain.
it came to a point where every single one of his thoughts were tainted with the knowledge of you. you were all he could think about- he saw you in every crowd and smelt your perfume in the wind even when you weren't around.
it was pathetic, really, the way he searched for you in everything, and the way you appeared to him, too. especially since this 'infatuation' was the product of a few measly mornings and some half-asleep conversations.
this was pitiful, rin thought, he was pitiful. but he kept coming back.
(..and it was especially pitiful because you were kind of annoying.)
your smile was as radiant as it was infectious, and you really, really liked talking. you might've been a little hesitant to speak to rin at first, but that certainly wasn't true anymore. with the way you ran your mouth, anyone would think you'd been friends for years.
rin hated how you left him without things to say. he couldn't muster his usual cruelties when he spoke to you. usually, he just hummed along or gave you minimal replies. but the flow of the conversations you had were never dull, and they became a highlight of his day.
"you'll never guess what happened," you started, as soon as rin took his usual seat next to you one tuesday morning. he uncapped his water bottle and took a sip as you continued.
"yesterday morning, i told you about how we were doing an animal painting activity, right?"
"yeah."
"okay, so i had just finished my example and instructions, and i was helping this one little boy. he's really sweet, by the way, he just doesn't really like... paint. which is kind of counterproductive."
"mhm."
"but anyways, this other kid comes up to me- she's tugging on my sleeve, and she says 'i made you something!' and it's not like i never get paintings from students, so i'm all like 'oh, thank you! what is it!' fully expecting it to be just some drawing, right?"
"right."
"but she hands me my bag!"
it's then that rin notes that you aren't carrying your usual tote bag. instead, you have an old canvas satchel that's cute but not nearly as endearing as your previous one. he frowns.
"it was fully covered in paint- like, it was all over her hands and everything. no way i'm getting that bag back. so messy," you shudder.
"it was the one your student gave you last year, right?"
"yeah. i'm a little sad, but i can't be too upset. she was like, 7 years old. they do that."
you begin to prattle on about some other inane topic, and for the first time since he's met you, you don't have rin's full attention. you don't seem to notice, but he's already adding another item to his mental checklist.
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
the following day, when rin boards the train, he doesn't greet you. he's holding something, and when he sits next to you he wordlessly drops it on your lap.
"what's this?" you fumble with the item in your hands- it's something light in a plain paper bag. rin doesn't reply, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. he stares straight ahead, eyes probably burning holes into the side of the train.
"okay, grouch. don't say anything, then."
"just open the bag, dumbass."
"jesus, fine."
you reach into the parcel, pulling out a denim bag. it's roomy and well-crafted, and a set of pins are stuck into the side. you recognize familiar cartoon characters, a paint palette, and a little train. for the first time since you've met rin, you're not sure what to say.
you stare down at the bag. rin stares at you. when you look up to meet his eye he whips his head away. but then he hears a shuffling, and your arms are around his neck, and he's frozen.
you're hugging him, and he can smell your hair, and he can't say a word. he thinks your shampoo smells like peaches. he would ask you if he was right if only he could find the words.
you're gone just as soon as you appeared and rin misses your warmth, but maybe a bit of it has transferred to him because he's all hot beneath the collar of his crewneck and he's feeling his face grow uncomfortably flushed.
he slumps back in his seat as you fiddle with the enamel pins- they're dainty and unique, and you're a little taken aback by how thoughtful they are. "i love this."
if rin were to try and form a coherent sentence, he thinks he might combust. so he just hums an 'mhm' and pries his gaze back to the opposing window, a little humiliated by how difficult it is for him to take his eyes off you.
he thinks he's done a pretty good job of cooling himself down until your hand is on his forearm. the contact feels icy against his hot, flushed skin and it sends a shiver down his spine as he turns to meet your gaze again.
"thank you," you say and your hands gently squeeze his arm, "this means so much to me. really."
this isn't the first time you've left him speechless, but it's the first time you've witnessed just how potent your effect on rin really is. you smile at him again before leaving him be, continuing to fiddle with the bag while he recuperates.
you keep talking at him but it's in one ear and out the other, and by the time it's your stop he's only a little bit better. you stand when the train stops and the window's light trickles through the opened doors and falls upon your lips like they're being highlighted just for him. he blinks the thought away.
"i'll see you tomorrow morning, rin," you say as you hold your bag close to your side, its new contents sitting heavy in the bottom. rin only nods and crosses his arms.
he hopes that little expression can contain the vast expanse of indescribable emotions that he feels for you, but he knows he's unfair for that because even rin himself hasn't been able to comprehend them.
he's not sure why he doesn't see you as a bother or distraction. he's not sure why he'd be disappointed whenever you didn't continue a conversation or praise the littlest things in a way he'd never expect from anyone else. he's not sure why he's so determined to make you smile, and he's even more uncertain as to what the strange, strange sensation he experiences whenever he succeeds is.
he's not sure, he's not sure, he's not sure, but he thinks he loves it.
he frowns. rin loves how you make him feel. his frown grows deeper at the realization. his eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back against the edge of his seat, a dull thump sounding as it hits the metal.
he thinks he'll ignore this realization, for now.
it's almost a week after rin's gotten you the bag, and it's become your new everyday option. he can't help but think it looks especially good with your white zip-up and he applauds himself silently for his fashion choices.
the bag already has some tiny, colourful fingerprints decorating the sides and streaked up from where you'd presumably snatched your property out of your students' grabby little hands.
the thought makes his lips quirk upwards into a tiny little half-smile, one that's barely there but you pick up on all the same. pausing in the middle of your sentence, you ask him: "what're you thinking about?"
if rin was smooth, and if he was interested in you, he'd reply with 'just you, babe,' or something else that would make you blush and make him want to die inside. but rin is not smooth, nor is he sure how he feels about you.
it's nothing short of sickening, how you continue to take residence in his mind constantly. if he thought it was bad when he'd first started talking to you, it was a thousand times worse now. rin kind of wishes he could go back in time for the sole purpose of beating the shit out of the past him as a warning to not let you do this to him.
because, if he was being honest, he was scared. the premonition that his feelings toward you might be something like attraction was horrific because god, what was he supposed to do?
his entire life was dedicated to being the best. he was born to be on top and he'd die on that podium, looking down on everyone else. in the past, he'd cared about nothing else but winning.
his dreams, for the longest time, were plagued by pedestals and gold medals, and trophies with his last name but someone else's first. he'd fall asleep to his mind's eye envisioning blood pooling in his gut as he bled for his crown, his crown that was always out of reach.
and then you showed up in them. rin couldn't decide if you made his dreams better or worse. (okay, that was a lie- definitely better, but he's not ready to admit that quite yet.)
in the midst of his bad dreams, you'd come to him, sitting pretty on the train next to him. you'd talk but he'd never be able to remember what you said come morning.
this was bad, rin thinks, he was bad. he was awful and horrible and wrong because he should be dreaming about winning and not you. you were distracting him, being on his mind all the time. while he ran to the train stop, a task that usually cleared his tired mind, all he could picture was you, you, you, waiting for him.
that was another thing. you were waiting for him, and he couldn't not show up. rin's considered changing his routine so he could keep away from you for the sole purpose of fighting his maybe-crush and being able to focus on his sport. he's thought about not replying to your texts, which you sent every afternoon to check in and ask how he was.
but then he pictured you, alone on the train, and he couldn't. the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him made his skin crawl. what if that boy who sat on the other side by the door tried to talk to you while he wasn't there?
no, no, rin couldn't have that. not when he liked you this much- it was far too late to let go. he'd already done this to himself.
so he keeps coming back, every single morning, just to see your face. there was no denying it anymore- rin liked you. too bad he'd never say a thing.
"rin?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "what's up?"
he glares at you like he hates you, but you know better and so does he. "nothing."
you tilt your head. he stares right back at you before conceding. "the paint smudges on your sweater and stuff."
"hm. what about them?"
"your job must be hard."
if he's being honest, rin doesn't really care about what you do. he's just trying very hard to not let the fact that he was smiling thinking about you show.
"it's not that bad," you say, "well, i mean- tedious, sure. plus i hardly get paid, i'm not under contract, and they could just decide to stop paying me at any point since there's nothing making them, technically."
rin raises an eyebrow. "and you say it's not that bad?"
"it's not! really!"
"and you work with kids."
"yeah, so not that bad."
"that's worse." you make a face at him and he fights another smile because how do you do this to him so easily?
"i swear it's not as bad a job as it seems."
"it's not even a job, technically," rin points out.
"okay, okay, you can stop making fun of my position, rin."
your use of his name makes his heart do something weird and nauseating in his chest and he hates it. "whatever."
you hum in contemplation before sitting up in your seat with an idea. "how about you come with me today?"
rin stiffens. "what?"
you don't flinch at his unintentionally bittered tone, and rin feels something strange inside him again. he feels a bit like a fish out of water, being put on the spot like that.
"well, i mean- only if you're free, of course," you twist away from rin ever-so-slightly as you start to backtrack, hands finding their way to fiddle with a strand of your hair, "i don't wanna overstep or anything, and i know you're probably busy and we're just-"
"no."
rin's voice cuts you off. "oh. that's cool, i'm sorry i asked."
oh. that wasn't what he meant to say at all. "no, no, wait. i mean no, stop talking."
"oh. i said i was sorry."
he's really just digging his own grave, at this point.
"wait, wait, wait. i mean.. no, stop talking, yes, i'll go with you."
it's almost comical how you brighten up in a heartbeat, and a strange twinge of pride at the fact that his presence could do that to you zips through his chest.
"oh, i'm great. i mean- that's great. this is great. i'm so excited." you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater and the enamel pins on your bag that he got you jingle and rin thinks that he's stupid for ever considering avoiding you.
and again- if he was a better man, he'd say so. but he's not, so he side-eyes you instead. "are you sure this is even allowed?"
"i am. as long as you're not some kind of criminal, or whatever." you look back at him, eyes creased with amusement. "you're not, yeah?"
"nope. just a few aggravated assault charges." he's only kind of joking (because injuries on the field do not count against him outside of it), and his voice is dry with sarcasm. he's not expecting you to laugh but you do, and he thinks everything he's done to lead up to this moment has been worth it.
"lovely. then you'll be fine. i hope you're good with kids, rin."
his mouth falls into a frown. he'd forgotten about that. he's about to say something but the train lurches or a stop and you're standing, prompting him to follow.
it occurs to rin that this is the first time the both of you have stood next to each other. the slight widening of your eyes at his obscene height is something that amuses him, but he chooses not to comment on.
he also keeps silent about how your beat-down and paint-smudged pair of shoes squeak ever-so-slightly as they exit the train. you move with a slight bounce in your step that makes the shoes pivot and squeal a little in a way that should irritate rin and not endear you to him the way it does.
it's only a short way to the school you work at from the train station, and you talk about menial things the whole way. rin's arms are crossed uncomfortably over his chest as he walks, and the plush insides of his deep blue sweater suddenly feel too hot, and he's feeling clammy even though the sun is hardly out.
you walk through the front office with rin in tow, tailing you while looking incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. the front office ladies chuckle like they know something he doesn't when you check him in and rin kind of wants to punch them. he doesn't, though.
when you lead him to your classroom (or, more precisely- a large storage room that was reassembled with tables and chairs to become a classroom) he's not surprised to find it colorful and bright.
the walls which aren't big windows are practically covered in various pieces- hand turkeys, landscapes, various misshapen animals, crude imitations of people- and a few pieces that are undoubtedly from a much more skilled artist. there are beautiful scenes that look like they're from movies, and there are unique interpretations that seem like they took painstakingly long to create.
he walks up to one- a faceless pair of women. one is sitting on the kitchen counter and the other stirs a bowl of something that looks like cookie dough. it's simple, it's sweet, and it's beautifully made. "you painted this?"
you're placing your bag down on the chair that sits behind the teacher's desk, which is just a repurposed old table. "i did. that's really old, though. kind of embarrassing."
"it's not." his finger traces his newest observation about the painting- your name scrawled in the corner. "it's not."
he's not looking at you, but he knows you're staring at him. he won't look back now, but he wonders what you're thinking. he imagines your quizzical expression, and he imagines the sun filtering in through the windows making you shine as you absorb every colour in the room.
he imagines you looking at him, and he thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever thought up.
the bell rings after a beat of silence passes. the shrill noise draws you both from your stupor, and rin turns to see you walking around, busying yourself with placing a piece of thick watercolour paper on each desk.
"well," you say, and rin might be imagining it but your voice is a little choked, "we've got.. 2 classes? yeah, two. both will be 7-year-olds today. think you can deal with that?"
rin's eyes narrow. "i thought you said i wouldn't have to deal with any kids."
your face contorts into a smile. "yeah. i know. you can just sit in the back and watch. i'll get them to not bother you."
you gesture to a tiny little desk situated in the back corner of the room and rin cringes internally as he walks up to it. he sees you biting back a laugh and glares. as he takes a seat, his knees are up to his chest and his arms are draped uncomfortably over them.
"this isn't funny," he deadpans as you bite your tongue. with a humiliating amount of effort, he removes himself from the tiny chair and walks back over to the teacher's desk where you stand, crossing his arms over his chest.
"in my defense, i didn't compensate for how tall you'd be. you can just be at my desk, i don't mind."
you place your bag down onto the floor in the corner and rin moves to take your seat. all you have on your desk is a pile of books that are collecting dust, and a dingy computer setup that seemed like it was from the stone ages. there's a series of sticky notes on the black screen- he knows he shouldn't, but he reads a few.
there's a few about restocking some supplies, and even more about various lesson plans. rin thinks you put an awful lot of work into a position that technically isn't legal. and then, his eyes land on his name- in pink pen that stands out on the yellow paper, 'itoshi rin' is scrawled on with a myriad of stars and hearts and squiggles surrounding it.
rin blinks, half expecting the message to vanish. it doesn't. his hand reaches out to take the note but he's interrupted by the room door slamming open and a gaggle of children bursting in.
their teacher seems exhausted, and rightfully so, especially considering it was barely 8 in the morning. she takes a seat close to the exit and slumps over, seemingly asleep, as the students spread around the room.
they take places behind desks and fist the provided paintbrushes in their little grubby hands, chattering amongst themselves as if it's not insanely early. rin watches as you bounce around the room, conversing with the kids who call your name.
his gaze doesn't leave you once, as you move to the front of the classroom to begin your speech on today's assignment. he's only half-listening, but he catches short phrases. it's something about practicing watercolour responsibly and learning to work with a new medium.
rin's never been an art kid. he's never seen the appeal. but the way you seem so excited to be there, and so genuinely happy to teach, makes him think that he should be listening, too.
the kids start to paint, now. he notices how some of them start with a pencil, tracing crude outlines of whatever they're trying to make, while others dive headfirst into the watercolour. you weave around desks lavishing them in praise, and rin wonders what you were like when you were their age.
little feet begin to scramble around the classroom as the assigned seating chart dissolves with time. you don't seem to care all too much, continuing to help a student- a little girl, with tiny, short pigtails tied off with purple scrunchies.
he doesn't realize he's been watching you until the girl catches his eye and says something he can only kind of make out. "who's that guy lookin' at you all mean?"
her finger points straight at rin, and he promptly pretends like he was very invested in the blank screen of your 1900s computer. he sneaks a glance back to see your eyes fixed on him before returning to the girl with an awkward laugh.
"ah, him! he's.. my friend. he's just sticking with me today," you smile, and feels himself sink into the chair deeper. he's not sure what he feels at the use of the word 'friend' but he doesn't think he likes it.
but it was a fine answer. it was decent, it was true- what, did he expect more? if he did, clearly he wasn't the only one because the little girl with the pigtails gives you a look. rather loudly, she exclaims "you mean your boyfriend?"
you blanch at her words and rin's subtle gaze returns to a full-on stare as he watched your reactions. "asami, not so loud! indoor voices," you try to sound authoritative but your voice splinters and sea of little faces is suddenly turned to face you.
and then, slowly, like a horror movie, the 20-something 7-year-olds pivot to face rin.
a little voice speaks up. "you're ms. teacher's boyfriend?"
in a normal scenario, rin would probably linger on the fact that you were addressed as 'ms. teacher' as if you had no other name. but with an ocean of inquisitive eyes, yours especially, he felt a little frozen. just as he was about to snap open his mouth to say something probably cruel and snippy, you jumped in.
rushing to the front of the crowd you wave your hands frantically, trying to maintain your cheery disposition while sweating through your clothes with anxiety. "no, no! he's- he's not my boyfriend! and don't bother him, please, he doesn't.. speak the language! he's from.. germany!"
it's a bad lie. horrible, even. and it would take a fool to fall for it- either a fool or a collection of unbelievably innocent children.
"oh!" one pipes up, "is that why he's so mean and doesn't talk?"
you furrow your brow. "we don't call people mean, remember."
and just like that, everything is back to normal. or, at least, however normal this situation could be. the students resume their artistry and continue scurrying like mice around the room to show off their creations or grab fresh sheets of paper.
you walk up to rin, and he hopes his ears have turned less red at this point as you sit on the desk in front of him. "see? not so bad."
he narrows his eyes. "are we in the same room right now? did you not just see that?'
you sigh dramatically and place your hands behind you as you slouch back. "maybe they're right. you are mean."
"okay?"
"you should be ashamed of yourself, y'know."
"you really do sound like a schoolteacher." at this you laugh and swat at his shoulder, eliciting a tiny could-be smile from rin. "never say that to me again."
and it seems like cutting rin off is a fun activity, because a little boy with messy brown hair skips up to the desk and basically shouts, "hello!"
the thing is, he's not talking to you- he's talking to rin. big, doe eyes are fixed on the striker expectantly, and he rolls back and forth on heels while clutching something in his hands behind his back.
rin blinks. "hi."
he sounds mean, he's sure, and definitely not german, but the kid doesn't seem to notice or care. "i think germ-in-ey is so neat! i made you this!"
the country is pronounced like he's speaking with rocks in his mouth but the boy's smile is bright and he holds a kind-of crumbled piece of watercolour paper in his hands.
it's still dripping and incredibly poorly done. what appears to be a house? or a building of some kind? is splattered onto a green line that might be grass. a blob that could be a body if you squinted hard enough is attached to a big oval with messy dark hair, angry eyebrows paired with neon blue eyes, and the biggest eyelashes the world has ever seen. they extended from all the way inside the eye to the sticks that rin supposes must be hands.
a random rectangle with doodles inside is in the top left corner. a little label reads 'german flag' in pencil.
rin blinks at the paper and looks dully at the kid. he feels your eyes staring into him, too, and he opens his mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.
"this looks bad," he speaks before he knows what's coming, eyes widening at his own words. a deep pit of guilt opens in his stomach as the boy retracts his hands with the paper. oh, my god, what did he just say?
he is unbelieveably lucky that you are still next to him at that moment, because you jump in to save the day yet again:
"haru! don't worry about him- he's german, remember? he doesn't know how to say what he means! bad in german actually just.. uh.. means really, really good!"
the boy instantly brightens up again, like a wilting flower back in bloom. "really? that's so cool! i didn't know they spoke german in germ-in-ey!"
you return his bright smile. "how crazy! what a small world!"
the little boy skips away, leaving his masterpiece in your hands, and rin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"oh, wow," you say with a sparkle of amusement in your eyes, "i didn't know you were this horrid with kids."
a grumble of annoyance leaves him, but he's more embarrassed than anything at this point. "and i didn't know i was german."
you shrug. "it was the first thing that came to mind. it worked, didn't it?"
rin ignores your question. "i can't believe you let that kid go off thinking 'bad' means good. he's gonna go around telling everyone that."
"i.. did not consider this," you purse your lips, "it's his teacher's problem. i don't even work here, technically."
"so you're a random person who comes onto campus and spreads lies to children."
a smile splits your face. "at least i'm a nice liar."
"nice?"
"oh. ouch. okay, thanks rin."
and he exhales, and it's no longer just a half-smile, because you see it so clearly on his face- the way his lips turn up at your words as he speaks. "yeah. anytime."
it's then that itoshi rin has a moment of infinite clarity- he's fallen for you. he doesn't like that fact, nor does he understand the intricacies of this romance.
he likes you. that's all there is to it. rin doesn't see why there needs to be any more. it's not like he'll tell you and even though the feeling of repressed and realized emotions in his chest is something a little unbearable, he's dealt with worse. and he thinks he'd rather keep his mornings beautiful than run the risk of messing it all up.
so rin thinks he'll settle for being in your background, as he watches you hop off the desk and move to help the students as they finish their paintings and clean up.
they sing a stupid jingle about keeping things neat that makes you laugh in the way you do where your head tips back just a little, and rin swears it's his favourite sound in the world.
it's another hour and another class before you're finally done with your work. the second one was thankfully a lot less strenuous for rin- none of the students paid him much mind at all, save for the occasional curious glance every so often.
"bye ms. teacher!" the final student belted before leaving, slamming the door with a resounding thud. you wave cheerfully and take a deep breath as soon as the kid is out of sight. "and we're done! how was that, rin? you just got the full fake-teacher experience."
rin stands from his place behind your desk and stretches out his limbs, slightly sore from being in one place for so long. "as bad as i thought it'd be."
"you're always so negative."
"glad you noticed."
you roll your eyes and grab a spray bottle and washcloths off the highest shelves. "help me clean?"
wordlessly, he catches the rag you toss and the other bottle. the two of you work in silence for a few moments, wiping down the desks that the students had done their best at keeping neat. the only noises were the muffled sounds of the cafeteria during lunchtime outside and the ever-present squeaks your shoes made.
the lighting through the window lit the scene golden and turned all the colors and textures and works in your classroom even more beautiful. and not just them- rin thinks that you look breathtaking in the sunlight. a part of him suspects that it was invented just for you.
"what did you think?"
rin looks up at your voice. "hm?"
"what did you think? about this, i mean."
he looks at you for a moment. this is a new expression, the one you're wearing- at least, one he's never been able to observe unobstructed. you almost seem bashful, in the sunlight, refusing to meet his eyes.
"i think," he says, and he's so careful because he thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he misspoke and insulted you again, "that this makes sense."
"what?"
he frowns, not wanting to explain himself. "you loving this. it makes sense."
"i actually have no idea what you mean by that."
he scoffs, "whatever," but you keep pushing, curiously leaning over the table and placing your washcloth down.
"you can't just 'whatever' me. i'm curious now."
"you're irritating."
"i'm aware." you keep looking at him and it's no surprise to him when his conviction crumbles into dust and ash.
"you just seem like an art person." he tries and fails to get his point across. you raise a brow. "are you profiling me? what, do i seem like your starving artist trope?"
"no, no," he grumbles, "like, you're.."
and he's not sure.
rin has no idea how to follow up his words. because he thinks so many things of you- he thinks you're kind, in ways he will never be, and he thinks you're pretty enough to rival the sun, and he thinks you're flat out lovely- but he can't convey it all into one word.
"you're just you," he says. it's a simple statement, said with a conviction that doesn't match the quiet tone of his voice. he speaks softly, like he's afraid you might disappear if he was too loud.
blinking, you meet his gaze, and rin hopes you can see yourself how he sees you in the reflection. he hopes you see yourself like gold, and all the colours in the world, and as the essence of creativity- he hopes you know that he sees you as art, plain and simple.
but your expression is unreadable. he wonders if his is, too. and rin also wonders what you see when you look at him, because you're suddenly inhaling sharply and pivoting, busing yourself with straightening up jaws that don't really need to be fixed.
"well, rin," you say, and your voice is a pitch higher, "i didn't mean to keep you so long. i'm sorry you got held up here."
you're laughing, but it sounds strained, and rin wishes he could go up and smooth whatever's bothering you out from your skin, but that's creepy so he'd rather not.
"i didn't stay so long because you made me or anything. i wanted to."
"oh." you freeze for a split second before continuing to scrub a little too vigorously, "uh. thanks."
"i like your paintings," he blurts out. it's not fitting as a response, and he should've just said 'you're welcome' and moved on with his life, but he feels like he needs to say something, and relieve at least a fraction of the burden off his chest. he likes your paintings, and he likes you, but he can't say that quite yet.
"oh! i didn't take you as an art connoisseur."
"i'm not."
and he was telling the truth- rin knew virtually nothing about art. he remembers his own experiences with the subject, all limited to his pre-teen years in school, where he'd been forced to make whatever the teacher commanded.
his work had always been lopsided and a little fugly, but in the spirit of learning no one had ever said anything. it was always 'that's so good!' or 'you're so creative!' or 'nice cat!' when it was meant to be a tree.
"not even a little bit?" you hum as you lean onto your tiptoes, struggling to push a bottle of cleaning solution back into the space. rin moves to your side, placing it on for you. he misses how you go breathless at his actions.
"was never an art kid," he says simply.
you purse your lips in that stupid way he's noticed you do when something doesn't go right, and shake your head. "i don't buy it."
he raises an eyebrow. "what?"
"i don't believe that."
"you're just.. rejecting my statement?"
"yeah. everyone's an art kid."
rin considers your words before shaking his head. "no. you're just weird."
rolling your eyes, you're suddenly gone again to the front of the classroom, rifling through a set of overworked cabinets that seem to be bursting at the seams. you come back to the desk rin was standing by with a full arm of various supplies- he recognizes paper, canvas, pencils, gouache paints, and brushes.
"everyone's an art kid," you repeat, "you just never had anyone show you right."
"you sound fucking crazy."
"yeah, probably," you reply, motioning for him to sit down on the chair. he complies, and you hop up to take a seat on the desk again.
"and cheesy as hell. like a stupid nickelodeon character."
"that's a little far. be nicer to me! i'm about to give you free painting lessons."
"ones that i didn't ask for."
you sit back on your hands. "you could leave if you wanted."
rin is silent. you smile. "lessons it is."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
you might have been a little bit incorrect in your approach. rin is kind of a little bit hopeless with art.
"just a straight line," you're practically begging, "just one. you can do it."
rin proceeds to draw another very un-straight line to go with all the other ones on the piece of paper.
that was okay, though! maybe pencils just weren't for him. you could live with that. you'd brought out some paints just for this possibility, after all.
painting is difficult to mess up. you slap some colors on a canvas, call it modern art, and you're set- that was your philosophy. anyone could paint. anyone, you now think, except for itoshi rin.
"are you colourblind?" you say, and you're not trying to be mean, you're genuine, because he had just used the most horrendous choice of color palate he could have had.
"shut up," he scowls, covering his face with his hands. "you're a shit teacher."
you gawk at him. "how is this on me?"
"your stupid 'art kid' philosophy. plus, you've just been staring, not teaching."
you frown. okay, yeah, maybe you had been a little bit stare-y, but it's not really your fault. he just has one of those faces that would be criminal not to stare at. an idea pops up in your mind, and you hop off the desk.
rin turns his head to follow you as you move behind him. "what are you doing?"
"i'm teaching," you bite back playfully, leaning over his figure. you take a hold of his hand with the paintbrush, and you're both so close that you can hear his heartbeat speeding up inside of his chest. you wonder if he can feel yours do the same.
your hand ghosts his before you take a hold, grabbing it gently. his palms are warm and his whole body seems to radiate heat. the skin of his hand is rough and calloused.
"like this," you instruct, dragging the brush slowly across the canvas. it's already a smoother, straighter line than his previous ones. rin remains speechless, but he lets you take control of his movements. you direct him gently and he moves in return, like a slow dance on canvas.
after some time, a scene is playing out on the formerly blank space before the both of you. it's the classroom, complete with the yellowed lighting of the sun coming through the windows and the blocks of color to represent the various works hanging on the walls. it's a crude imitation of reality, but a piece of you and a piece of him, and you think that makes it beautiful.
"see?" you say, breaking the silence, "you did that."
you move to release your grip on rin's hand but he clasps his other one over it without thinking. you blink at him. he lets go, embarrassed.
"you did most of the work," he shrugs off, but it feels like he's just talking to himself, "i was just there."
"hm. you're right, but come on! give yourself some credit."
your attempt to lighten the heavy tension in the air falls onto deaf ears. "i should go," he mumbles, standing.
"oh."
"bye." his words lack the usual edge, and he seems more confused than upset. still, you wonder if you've overstepped and a pit forms in your stomach.
"bye," you say, but he's already out the door.
you try not to be too upset about it, but it's a little difficult. you've liked rin since before you even knew his name, and you were far too stubborn to let it go just yet.
you'd been almost 100% he felt the same, too. but again, your pride wouldn't allow you to make the first move. and his reaction to the closeness didn't bode well for your intentions.
a surge of disappointment consumes your chest and everything suddenly feels a lot heavier. your regular cable-knit feels itchy and too hot on your skin. you bite your tongue.
your friends have mocked you for your infatuation with this faceless 'itoshi rin.' they've encouraged you to move on from this crush that was seemingly going nowhere until almost a month ago, even going as far as to try and set you up with someone. maybe you should finally look into that offer,
you sigh to yourself and flop back onto the hard wood of the desk. oh well, you think, you'll see him tomorrow anyway.
the next week of early morning train rides is missing something.
rin notices it almost right away- how you sit a little farther from him, you you're just a little more skittish and quick to leave. it's a stab in the gut every single time, and he's not sure how he can mend the undeniable rift forming between the both of you.
he's not sure what happened. was it his leaving? had that upset you? why?
the invisible wound of unspoken words festered like mould as the morning conversations grew shorter and stiffer, and he felt helpless like he never had before.
and then, you bring something up that makes his heart plummet.
"this afternoon? i think i have a date, actually."
he shouldn't be mad. he shouldn't be upset. but doesn't he have the right? the person he likes, and ew, he hates admitting that, is going on a date with someone else.
"oh."
"mhm. my best friend's friend- she's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages."
"oh."
"tomorrow night, i think it is."
"hm."
"i hope it goes well."
"why?"
again, rin's mouth runs separately from his conscience. he wants to hit himself. you have no obligation to answer, because the both of you are just friends, maybe even less.
you blink, looking over at him. "i mean.. why not?"
the rest of the train ride continues in awkward silence until you get off. you give him a brief smile but you don't say goodbye, and rin watches your figure walk away until the train starts again and he can't anymore.
there is a very strange emotion, that rin is experiencing. he recognizes parts of it- that same bitter, green envy that curls around his lungs and squeezes til he can't breathe. he's familiar, but never in this context.
and then there's something darker that hurts his chest. it reminds him of growing pains, and of valentine's day, and of things he never thought he could have wanted. it reminds rin of you, and he is so, so distraught.
that afternoon, he waits for your text. usually, your messages are usual, like clockwork. you'd message him around 1 when you were on the train ride home, either to update him about your day or send him a game pigeon game.
he always indulged your messages, and he'd never let you see but you were one of the pinned contacts on his phone.
that day, however, your text never comes.
he's so pathetic for how he sits in the locker room at 2, alone, staring at his phone screen. he's sad for how he's taking a break from practicing at 3 just in case you message. he's stupid for how he spends the next few hours just waiting for a notification that he knows will probably never come.
it's 10 now, and rin has never felt more tired.
he's about to go to bed, having his night clothes lined up on his bed and brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. it was an average, regular day- there was nothing special nor abnormal, but everything just felt so wrong.
he wonders if you were on your date then, as he spits his toothpaste into the sink. he wonders what you wore- if you donned your white cable-knit or your squeaky paint-smudged shoes. he wonders if you carried the bag he got you, pins and all. he wonders if your date held open the door like he would have, or if he joked around with you like he did (kind of.)
rin wonders where you were. he wonders if you were okay.
and then, his phone rings.
your name lights up his screen and suddenly, he's not so exhausted. he answers a little too haistily on the 1st ring.
"hello?"
there's a short pause, but he can hear the way your breath comes in short huffs on the other side of the line. this was strange- the both of you had never called before.
"rin?" your voice is crackly in a way he could accredit to the poor reception wherever you were, but something in his heart wrenches and there's an undertone that is undeniably distress in your voice.
"yeah? what's up?" he's already bustling around his home, though, grateful he hasn't changed yet as he pulls out his shoes.
"are you doing anything?"
"no," he lies.
"i'm sorry then, 'cause i know it's late, but- um, yeah. i'm about to get on the train. like usual, just the night one. but, i don't want to bother you, so-"
"no. keep going."
another silence follows rin's words before you continue. "could you.. come here? i know it's dumb, askin' you to ride the train here just to come back with me but," and your voice cracks, "i don't really want to be alone right now."
rin exhales. he's already outside, walking briskly through the cold night air with his free hand stuffed in his jeans pockets as he makes his way to the train stop.
"i'm on my way."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
when rin gets on the night train, you're the only other passenger on board. you're huddled up in your usual seat with your knees drawn up to your chin and eyes misty with something dismal. you look at rin and he's heartbroken for you, because nothing should ever make you this upset.
but you offer him a weak grin and move to sit normally, patting his seat next to you. he notes that you are indeed carrying the same bag he got you.
the new distance isn't present when he takes his place beside you. in fact, he's so close tonight that he can almost feel your thigh brush his. he eyes you cautiously, unsure how to begin. thankfully, you answer his questions before he needs to ask.
"remember my date?" rin nods. how could he forget?
"it was kind of awful," you concede with a watery laugh. "he was all fine, at first- but i just wasn't interested. he asked for a second date, and i said no thanks- he just- he yelled at me. called me all sorts of things. i dunno."
his heart tightens in his chest as you keep going. "it's not a big deal but i didn't really- i'm not sure. i'm not sure."
he doesn't think too much about his next actions, as his hand curls around your shoulder. you're all too complacent, letting yourself be pulled into the warm fabric of his crewneck. he hopes you can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace. he hopes yours does the same.
rin allows you to bury yourself in his warmth, to acquaint yourself for a few moments before he starts talking. "last week i went to the grocery store and i saw this lady with her cats," he said.
you glance up at him quizically but his arm holds fast, keeping you there as he continues: "she was old. probably too old to be toting around all those groceries.
"i would've offered to help but then i took another look- she was ripped."
a muffled laugh escapes you. "for real?"
"yeah. i mean it."
"a ripped old lady with cats, huh? what was she getting?"
"blueberries."
he thinks he feels your smile against the fabric of his clothes. "blueberries. that's nice."
"and just a few days ago, i think, i was on my run and i passed by this apartment, right?"
"mhm."
"and i hear yelling. so i stop."
"yeah?"
"on the balcony of the apartment, there was this woman and some guy. they were in their 20s, i think. and she was screaming at him."
"oh? what about?"
your voice is thickening again, but this time with exhaustion. the occurrences of your day were finally weighing on you, rin presumes. he keeps talking.
"something about him being unfaithful. then she threw his gaming console off the balcony."
"oh," you say, with a slight yawn, "that sounds so funny. i wish i was there."
"me too."
rin really should break this habit he's beginning to form. it definitely isn't a great idea to share all his innermost thoughts with you always- but lucky for him, you seem too tired to notice the accidental compliment.
"good for her," you mumble.
"good for her," he repeats.
you tilt prop your chin up on him to meet his gaze. your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and bags are formed beneath your eyes, and your hair is frazzled and messy but rin thinks this might be the prettiest he's ever seen you.
you're dead on your feet, but you're still looking at him. you're feeling so many things and you're still you. his hand absentmindedly flutters accross the back of your head to flatten your hair as you begin to speak.
"you're so nice." is all you say. rin looks at you, incredulous.
"you are," you insist, breaking away from him for a moment with your hand pushing yourself off of his chest. "you wanted to help that old woman. you heard yelling and stopped in case someone needed help. you're here at 10pm after i messed everything up."
rin blinks.
you've always been the kind of person to make him think. you made him reconsider his own future, his capacity for love, his interest in romance- you made him think about it all. but there was one thing that was a constant, that he didn't think even you could make him reconsider- the fact that he wasn't a good person.
it's then that it dawns upon itoshi rin- he doesn't see himself as worth loving. his life's purpose was success, and without it, was he even worth caring about? and on top of all that, he was cruel.
he cared about no one. he was blunt, and he was unfriendly, and when he was in school people walked away. the neighborhood kids all hid from him, and his teammates never bothered to even try and introduce him to new faces anymore.
itoshi rin was mean and cruel, a fact that he had decided for himself and then been enforced by the people around him. itoshi rin was not worth anything without a gold medal to demonstrate his value. itoshi rin was not worth caring about, because he'd just hurt you. itoshi rin didn't think himself even capable of wanting anything but to win.
and itoshi rin was proven wrong the day he met you.
because he'd fallen for you, with your shoddy footwear and worn-out zip-up that could hardly be considered white anymore. he'd fallen for you and the way you always had something to say, and he'd fallen for you, who could see the art in anything- even hideous artwork made by unskilled 7-year-olds, even teenage boys who couldn't find it in themselves to admit that they loved you.
you must've changed him, he thinks, or at least brought out a part of him that he'd long since forgotten had existed. because now, on this train at 10 pm with you still staring at him with intent, tired eyes- he thinks he sees it, too, in a way that he thinks you might've been trying to get him to see from perhaps the very beginning.
he sees himself, itoshi rin, as artwork. and he sees you- the artist.
it's beautiful, how the world explodes into colour at that moment. the night sky outside the train window has never been quite so beautiful, and he thinks he can see all the stars in the world even though he's not even looking at them. his eyes are trained on yours, and there's nothing left to do, say, or realize, so he just pulls you back into himself and keeps talking.
"and then two days ago, i think, i was at practice. and my teammate opens his locker, and a squirrel falls out. nanase- that's his name- was terrified."
it's almost comical, how the roles have reversed. usually, you were the storyteller, and he was the patient listener. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone in such a one-sided fashion for so long, but he doesn't really care anymore.
"apparently it was bachira. no one was really surprised."
he looks down at you, and you're finally asleep. your breathing is even, and he can only partially see your face. your cheeks are patchy from previous tears, but the way your features are relaxed amends for the hurt. his hand holds your head close, still, fingers absently massaging your scalp.
the silence carries on for a few beats. he watches your inhales and exhales when you do. when he finally talks, he's even quieter.
"i missed talking to you," he finally admits. it's almost as if he's admitting this to himself rather than you, with the way he leaves the words to hang in the air.
"so much," he adds, "it was fucking gross."
he continues to speak. perhaps this was his confession- he'd tell you his truths, the fact that he liked you, and the fact that he'd never be able to say it to your face. he doesn't see the harm, not on the empty night train with just him to hear.
"when we were all.. distant. i hated that. i had so much to say to you. i guess i always have. because," he lets an aggravated sigh, "i just didn't know.
"you're rubbing off on me, i guess. you and your stupid.. i dunno. just you. you make me so weird inside."
he pauses like he's waiting for you to say something, even though he knows you can't even register his words. he frowns and rewinds:
"that day. a week and a day ago. i left.
"you were so close to my face, so close to me- i dunno. i guess- i guess i just panicked. because i shouldn't like you. you're so.. you. and i'm nowhere near that. so i left.
"i wanted to kiss you. i want to all the time, it's fucking awful. when you told me about your date today? i hated every second of that. i just wanted to tell you but i couldn't. i don't know why, though.
"i still can't tell you. don't know if i will. but it's out there, now. i like you," rin laments, the last words foreign and unwelcome on his tongue.
"i like you. i like you a lot."
rin thinks his words should be followed by silence. he thinks that they'll hang and vanish in the air like his breathe, and he thinks it'll be gone forever, just like that. he thinks the next morning, he'll find a new morning routine and delete your contact.
but your breath hitches, and your body stiffens ever so slightly against rin's as his confession exits his lips. rin freezes, his hand falling dormant in the air behind your head.
you rise from his chest, and an empty cavity of dread is left in your place. the quiet is so poignant that you could hear a hairpin drop. he stares at you. you stare at him.
"rin," you start slowly, voice rough around the edges with sleep.
(the train rumbles distantly in the background. faintly, rin wonders when his stop would be.)
"you like me?"
he is silent. you blink once. then twice. and then you move. from your place next to him, you take his hand in both of yours and shift it to your lap.
"you like me."
it's not so much of a question now as it is an answer. your skin is cold against his, and it reminds him of the afternoon spent in your classroom where he learned of his limits for the first time.
"and you said you want to kiss me all the time," you continue, and rin thinks he'd be utterly humiliated if he wasn't so frozen.
"so why don't you?"
your question is one that lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy mist or smoke, and his lungs feel like they're being weighed down by the steeled sky.
you're right for asking, because why didn't he? why had he run, that day in your classroom? why had he let you grow so distant from him in the week that followed?
rin has always been one for pushing his limits. even when his body was broken over his sport, but he kept going because that was what was right to do. it was his purpose, and he didn't matter much outside of that.
but things were different now that he'd met you. rin decides that he just might be worth something more than a victory, because you look at him with a reverence, an affection, that tells him that he's maybe more than that.
you hold his hand in yours like it's glass, and your expression is soft with a curious lilt, and his hand is on your side and traveling to your back, and his other one is in your hair, and his lips are pressed on yours like he needs you, because fuck it, rin decides, he's never cared much for limitations anyway.
you kiss him back before long. it's messy and crude, and all teeth and bumping noses, and a long time in the making. you pull away before he does and he chases your lips like a starved man. but you duck your face into the crook of his neck, body as close as you could manage on the uncomfortable train seat. he feels you laugh into his neck, and he can't help the smile that spreads on his face.
"fucking finally," he says quietly, more to himself than you.
"finally," you agree, as the train slows to a stop. you glance up to check the destination- oh. it's your stop- your apartment block was only a short walk from here.
"this is where i am," you say, trying to find it in yourself to stand up. rin beats you to it, emerging from his seat and pulling you with him.
"i'm walking you home." he's no longer holding your hand, but his pinky finger is interlaced with yours, and he gives a surprisingly firm tug as he ushers you to the exit. "let's go."
you skitter along right behind him as the cold air rushes against his face, planting rosy, frosty kisses against his skin. you swing your joined arms with a wicked grin like you know it'll annoy him but he's not about to tell you to stop.
and if rin thought you were the prettiest in your classroom, or prettiest on the train, he was sorely mistaken because you're nothing short of gorgeous now, in the night air holding his hand, with a big, dopey grin on your face and his name on your lips.
he thinks he'd like to kiss you again, so he stops in his tracks on the sidewalk. you lurch to a halt, and call his name questioningly. he kisses you again because he can now, and you kiss him back, and he can do this again, and again, and again, because what's stopping him now?
the weeks following the emergence of your newly formed relationship are nothing short of blissful.
neither of you discussed your relationship status- it was just implied that he was your boyfriend now, because rin is almost sure he'd implode if he had to consider his feelings any longer.
your routines had both amended themselves around each other. every day, you'd meet on the morning train. he'd come to your classroom and sit through your lessons with you, and the both of you would go to either your apartment, his house, or whatever other destination was on one of your to-do lists. he'd go off for practice in the afternoons, but he never missed you too much.
he knew your texts would be waiting to be answered, without fail, and he knew you'd always be waiting for his call. and it felt nice to have someone- someone who cared for him, someone to call his own, someone who waited for him, someone he'd won.
rin thinks that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, and especially if you didn't. he sees it as mature and responsible- someone has to keep you in check. you just call him clingy.
this is how he finds himself at a farmer's market. it's bustling, and nostalgic, and crowded, and probably not his scene. but you're there, so he'll make it work.
"oh, there's so many things. uh, let's see," you fumble with your phone, pulling up your list from your phone, "naomi can't have peanuts. asami is allergic to.. strawberries? how sad. and hiroshi will probably start crying if he sees cucumber. god, kids get weirder and weirder by the day."
you've been roped into helping host the graduation party for this year's oldest elementary students, most of which you knew by name. you'd been stuck with the food prep which rin didn't really understand assigning to you, since it's presumably the hardest task and you're not even a real employee.
"what's left, then?"
"uh.. i think we can make blueberry pie or something. and if they don't like it, it's not my fault because i tried."
"i'm not helping."
"no, no. you are. you don't have a choice in this."
he scoffs, and is about to reply, when-
"ms. teacher! hi, hi! hi!"
a little tiny pair of legs attached to a blur of brown hair as a small boy hurtles into your legs, capturing you into a hug the best he can. you let out a huff as the wind is knocked out of you.
looking down, rin recognizes the same kid- the same one who had made the watercolour painting of him and was surprised that they spoke german in 'germ-in-ey'.
"haru? hi yourself! what're you doing here?"
you almost instantly kneel down to meet his eyes and haru immediately giggles and taps the side of your head. "bonk, bonk!"
you laugh. "that isn't an answer, buddy."
the boy rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet with his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and rin is both enamoured by your endless warmth and feeling very out of place, standing awkwardly behind you like a scared child.
"my mama runs a fruit shore. yum, fruit! 'nd, i get to ex-spore! 'cause they're all busy with the fruit shore!"
"really? how cool!"
"yeah, yeah! 'nd, why are you here ms. teacher?"
you pretend to be in deep contemplation, tapping your finger on your chin. "well, if i tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, 'kay?"
"pinky swear! swear it!"
"it's for a surprise party."
haru looks like you just told him nuclear secrets. "oh my gosh!"
he squirms where he stands, running around in circles. "a sur-pies party! a sur-pies party!"
and then he stills, looking at you with the utmost serious expression that cracks a grin onto even rin's face. "i swear i won't tell anyone about your sur-pies party."
"thank you very much, haru. i appreciate it," you reply, with equal seriousness.
and then, haru's eyes wander over to rin.
"mr. germ-in-ey!"
rin cringes. he wasn't mentally prepared for this, not today. "hi."
haru seems to have forgotten that people from germany tend to speak german, because he converses with rin like there's no implicit barrier there. "hey, hi! i didn't know you went outside the school!"
rin's brows furrow and you stand, laughing. "what?"
"you're always in ms. teacher's classroom. in the back, all sad."
he frowns. "i'm not sad."
haru surveys him, and he feels a little ridiculous getting once-overed by a 7-year-old. "no," haru agrees, "not anymore!"
at this, you chime in. "oh? what changed?"
rin glares at you over his shoulder and you return with a bemused expression. haru mimics your previous posture, with his hands on his chin like he's stroking a beard.
"you guys are in love!"
you freeze, shooting up straight with wide eyes. rin stares at the kid.
"come again, haru?" you manage to choke out, perhaps hoping that you heard him wrong.
"you guys are in L-O-E-V-E!" haru sings the words out, spelling it wrong but still reinforcing his previous statement.
rin is flabbergasted, and you choke on your saliva. bystanders are beginning to look at the scene unfolding, and you attempt to straighten yourself out while rin takes a step away.
"uh, haru," you say, letting out a breath and an awkward laugh, "why don't you go find your mom? tell her i say hi."
haru hums before nodding like he'd entirely forgotten the previous conversation. he scuttles away with the speed of a scared cat. rin directs his gaze to you and shoots you a look.
"your students are so fucking strange."
you sigh, "yeah. yeah, they are."
he pauses. and lets out the heaviest, most resigned sigh he thinks he's ever managed before. "but they're not wrong."
you look at him blankly, before you process his words. and then you're positively beaming as rin makes a face.
"ugh, gross. forget i said that. that was vile."
"awh, rin!" you say, disregarding his statement, "you're so cute! so, so cute!"
you close the distance between him and you, and he ducks his face away but makes no real effort to move. "i hate you so much."
"i don't think so," you hum, getting infinitely closer to his face. he's sure you can feel the heat radiating off him at your proximity, as you continue: "i think that you are obsessed with me."
your lips are ghosting the corner of his mouth and he doesn't realize he was holding his breath until you pull away, eyes suddenly wide with realization.
"oh my god," you say, all the teasing removed from your voice and instead replaced with a daunting sobriety, "haru is going to tell the entire class. the entire school."
rin blinks. "okay? and?"
"no, you don't get it!" you grab his arm, a genuine terror that is almost comical shining in them. "i'm going to be trampled."
your boyfriend shrugs. "i don't see how that's my issue."
"you idiot. you come with me every day."
"so?"
"you're never going to know peace again."
rin finally gets it, and he frowns deeper than he thinks he ever has. "i'm breaking up with you, then. no way am i dealing with that."
you roll your eyes and sigh, and rin laughs- it's quiet and short but real and genuine, and he sees the love brimming in your eyes as you follow his movements.
"god, i love you."
your words catch him off guard. but he takes your hand as a response. rin doesn't think he can say it back, not right now- but you know he does, and this time, so does he.
because rin loves you, and you love him, simple as that. there are no limits, there are no rules- just brushstrokes on a canvas, just an artist and a muse.
in that moment, in the middle of the bustling farmer's market, you and rin are all alone, and he thinks to himself: he would spend forever counting the passengers on a train if it meant he would meet you.
he'd spend years if he had to, waiting for his girl, the one with a white worn-out zip-up and shoes that were on their last few wears, and a denim bag smeared with paint and decorated with pins, and a smile to rival the sun.
he'd give it all to meet you again, and he'd give even more if you asked. in truth, there's nothing he wouldn't do to fall in love with you all over again- but he doesn't need to imagine, because you make it happen every day.
because truly, it may have started in just a few mornings, but it would always end with you.
(3 weeks later, mrs. sato appears on the morning train again.
you and rin are seated in conversation, bodies turned towards each other as he listens to your words. you're both interrupted when the train doors shut and a voice calls your name.
"ah, what have i missed! do my eyes deceive me, or is there a lovely new couple in my presence?"
you grin at her arrival. "oh my gosh, mrs. sato?"
the older woman hobbles over to sit down in front of you. "you have so much to tell me," she states, wrinkled smile gleaming with childlike joy.
rin frowns. why is it such a common trend to make him the 3rd wheel in his own relationship?
rin listens in as you narrate the course of your relationship, thankfully skipping out some more personal pieces, with a pink face and blood warming the tips of his ears.
and in turn, you learn that in mrs. sato's absence, she'd been partying all over the bahamas on a cruise, making a few crude and suggestive jokes about ship crew boys. "ah, but i can't say that anymore, can i? not with your boyfriend here. girl talk."
rin crosses his arms over his chest, looking and feeling a bit ridiculous with your bag on his laugh. mrs. sato cackles. he thinks she reminds him of a witch, just a little.
"ah, well, i hope you didn't miss me too much, dear. i'm off again- to jamaica this time!" mrs. sato exclaims and you smile supportively even though rin can tell you're more amused than anything.
"when do you leave?"
"tonight," she laughs, "i'm going to the airport right now."
when mrs. sato leaves and bids you and rin farewell with a hug and wink respectively. rin looks at you questioningly. "i can't believe you speak to her."
you grimace. "she's terrifying. i think if i wasn't friendly she'd hunt me down."
"probably. wouldn't be hard."
"i should send you to jamaica with her."
"i'd take some cruise boys over you any day."
"i'd pick them over you, too"
rin smiles. his hand taps a rhythm onto your knee. "so what're we doing today?"
"after school, i think it's finally time i buy new shoes. it's been long enough."
he frowns. "i like your shoes."
"they're like, a million years old. there's a hole in the sole."
"oh."
"you can pick them, since you clearly seem to think your fashion sense is better than mine."
"it is, actually."
"you're horrible, y'know that?"
"yep."
the train stops, and you stand before he does. you extend your hand for him to take.
he takes it without hesitation.)
##: if you read this long, hey!
writing this actually made me insane i'm not gonna lie! but it's finally out, and genuinely would mean the world if u left a like, reblog, or comment :,) feedback keeps me motivated!
Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one-shot/head-canons (u can choose) for Barou comforting the reader after having a nightmare? If not tho that’s ok! Have a good day/night :)
NIGHTMARE ?!
⟨❮Barou Shouei.❯⟩
Notes;; So sorry! I completely forgot about this request. I did a short drabble, hope that's okay!!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
His eyes flitted across the room as he was awoken from his sleep; the sound of restless movement which he soon came to realise was you—having a nightmare, groans of annoyance died in his throat as he shuffled over to shake you awake.
“Sorry..” you slurred as the sleep clung to your eye's, an apology for bothering and disturbing him.
“Shut up.” he huffed, he did not wake you up for an apology, an apology of something you could not control and despite the irritation on his face he got up and returned with a glass of water, slowly beckoning you to drink from it with caring hands. What an unsightly scene for a king.
He coddled you into his arms, no words needed to wash your despair away, just a peaceful sleep.
Hi everyone, sadly my mental health isn’t in the best of states rn:( that means I’ll either post a shit ton and using writing as my escapism or I won’t write anyt at all 😭 really sorry for being so inactive but I hope u’ve all been doing great! I’ll try to post as soon as I can <3
Akihiko's polite speech during the confession scene is such a sweet detail in Japanese, especially given how Akihiko and Haruki normally speak with one another.
Asian languages tend to have polite versions of speech that sadly can get lost in translation when translated to English. Japanese is even one of those language systems that officially have so-called "polite speech" as opposed to "casual speech".
In this scene, Akihiko uses words and phrases like "ii desu ka" and "kudasai". "Ii" means "good" and is a neutral word. The "desu ka" part is formal/polite. "Desu" is something like the English "is" and can be used in casual speech, but "ka" is a polite speech question marker—that is, it tells you that the person is asking a question regardless of their tone (if the person is speaking) or punctuation ("ka" is usually punctuated with a period). The casual version of this question would have been, "Sawatte (touch) mo ii?" without the "desu ka" part, basically meaning, "Is it good/okay to touch [you]?"
Likewise, "Ore to (with me) tsukiatte (go out/date) kudasai (please)" is politely asking someone to go out with you. Technically, you can ask someone to do something in casual speech by dropping "kudasai" and just using the imperative version of a word ("tsukiau" is the verb meaning "to go out with", and "tsukiatte" is the form it takes if you're telling/asking someone to do that action) would be the casual version.
All of this is very different to how Akihiko and Haruki usually talk with one another. For example:
Here, Akihiko is saying, "Warui (my bad) ... kyou (today) omae'nchi de ii (is it okay if I go to your house)?" Note that it's in casual speech. In fact, Akihiko has a lazy way of talking so he tends to slur words together like "omae no (your) uchi (home)". He does this a lot with Haruki.
And here, Haruki is asking, "Akihiko, ocha (tea) o katte (bought) kureta (did do [for me])?" The question is also in casual speech.
And then their text exchange, Akihiko asks, "Mada okiteru (still awake)?" and Haruki responds with "Okiteru (still awake) yo", with "yo" even being like a casual/light/friendly ending to his statement. Politely, this would have been, "Mada okite imasu (awake still /polite form) ka," and "Hai (yes), okite imasu (still awake /polite form)."
Akihiko's later, "Tometekun'ne?" is once again like a shortened version of "tometekunai (won't allow to stay over) ne?" like, "Won't you let me stay over?"
Basically, Akihiko speaks very casually with Haruki. He doesn't even use honorifics with Haruki even when Haruki is older and a senior in the same university. (Likely he might have used one before? But at some point dropped it when he and Haruki became friends/bandmates.)
But during the confession scene, Akihiko had been working hard to be someone Haruki would approve of. He wasn't just asking out a friend; he was asking out somebody he admired, whom he hurt and who had every right to refuse him. He was on his knees, humbling himself in front of Haruki, and he was shaking with nerves.
In fact, Akihiko legit had an entire speech going, but Haruki spoke as usual—he probably found Akihiko and his tone to be too intense lol—and reverted their exchange back to something less formal.
Here's their full scene:
Haruki goes, "Ii yo" and it's his usual way of speaking with Akihiko (see: text messages exchange). Akihiko, surprised presumably by how easily Haruki agreed after everything that happened between them, dropped the formal speech and just goes, "Maji (serious)?"
