Midousuji Akira prides himself on being able to pinpoint someone’s weakness so he can use it against them. People matter less to him than absolute victory and most of the people he hones in on are his opponents anyway; they were never going to be his allies, much less his friends, because Midousuji does not have friends. He has his zaku, and he has his De Rosa, and that is all that matters to him. Nothing and no one else does. And even then, his team could be composed of any members as long as they do what he tells them to do.
To put it bluntly, Midousuji’s mission in victory has always been that he needs to understand everyone he goes up against no matter how much of a challenge they present to him. He needs to be able to pick apart the pieces of their psyche, to see who they are inside and out so he can decide what best to use against them. His success in such a thing has earned him a nasty reputation, but he wears that more proudly than he wears his own jersey.
After all, it could be any jersey. Colors and loyalty have never mattered to him.
It took him a single race and a single interaction to understand Manami Sangaku, and as such Midousuji understood him to be someone who had no weaknesses that Midousuji could exploit for his own purposes. Not that Manami is particularly mentally strong, but what he seeks on the road is different than what everyone else seeks, and so Midousuji is content to take him down with speed and skill alone. Manami has earned a sliver of his respect, and as such, has earned the privilege of being true competition.
This does not make Manami less insufferable when they are off the course, however.
Midousuji has ridden this particular stretch of rode enough times that his brain shuts off as his muscles remember the dips and curves, the slight shifts and the rise and fall of the asphalt beneath his tires. Today is a rare day, a nice enough warm summer day with a pleasant breeze so that Midousuji takes advantage of it for a gentler ride, one less punishing on his body than his personal training. Rich yellow warmth colors the air around him, wrapping around him like a cocoon, and he feels more at peace than he ever does until the final stretch of a race.
So, of course, naturally, he hears a voice. “Midousuji-kun! I didn’t expect to see you out today.”
Their homes may not be close but nothing seems to stop Manami from riding all over the area just the same; Midousuji does not slow down, merely turns his head and narrows his eyes when a familiar bike pulls up alongside his own. “What do you want, Manami?”
“I saw you riding and wanted to say hi!” Manami beams at him, all soft blue that makes Midousuji lean away just slightly, lips pulled back from his teeth. “How have you been?”
His attempts at casual friendship have been frustrating and impossible to deal with in such a complete way that Midousuji no longer has to worry about it. Others had been easier to chase off; Manami makes him think of Ishigaki sometimes when his mind wanders for a comparison. The two of them are similar in that neither of them have quite grasped that Midousuji does not seek companionship, and if he did, it would not be with either of them. As such, both of them refuse to admit this is true and continue to pester him about it.
Endless text messages and emails from Ishigaki, away at university, while Manami always stops to speak to him should they ever cross paths in public. Today is such a day, Midousuji supposes, because Manami matches his cadence so the two of them stay close together.
“Fine,” Midousuji finally answers, glueing his eyes back to the road.
“That’s great to hear! I’ve been doing pretty good myself, even with the third years leaving. I guess it’s not as much of a problem for Kyofushi.” When Midousuji shoots him a sideways look for that one, Manami smiles broadly at him. “Since you’re the one in charge and all! We lost our ace and his assistant and our star climber and our star sprinter. Not to mention we lost Fukutomi-san too. But since you’re the main star, Kyofushi is fine, right?”
Midousuji relaxes his expression at this and sighs, tipping his head back, not quite praying to the heavens but reaching for patience just the same. “Correct. Ishigaki-kun is the only member we lost from the club and his absence will not matter. I will choose a new assistant myself.”
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see who you pick. To race you again. You were so much fun to race last time.” The air around them shifts and Midousuji looks at Manami just quickly enough to catch the sight of familiar blue feathers. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not trying to leave you behind. It’s just a habit, y’know?”
He does not know, but he can guess. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, or are you simply going out of your way to follow me because you want to do so?”
The question would have been enough to startle others to back off, but Manami only looks considerate for a moment before he sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, there’s… Well, I mean, I’d like to tell you something, but I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure out how to for a while.”
His tone is amusing enough that Midousuji takes pity on him, braking suddenly without any warning so that Manami glides a few meters ahead before he, too, realizes he should stop his bike. Midousuji smirks at the sight before he walks his De Rosa over to the side of the rode, nudging the kickstand into place and dropping down on the soft, lush green grass. Manami looks at him hesitantly for a moment until Midousuji locks their gazes together and drops a hand purposefully onto the ground beside him, a clear invitation.
After that, Manami almost trips over his own feet to join him, falling down in the grass beside him like an excited puppy. “I guess this is a sign today is the day, huh?”
Midousuji clicks his teeth at him. “I’ll indulge you just this once. Tell no one, or die.”
“You’re so funny. I won’t tell anyone even though it’s a pretty great honor.” Manami folds his hands behind his head, arms bent in such a way they almost look like wings. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the Inter-High. I’ve kind of come to the realization that I’m pretty sure I have a crush on you.”
It takes Midousuji approximately seventy-five seconds to absorb and process the information Manami has shared with him. There had been others in the past who were interested in him, though Midousuji had turned them all away as clearly and coldly as possible. It is not as though he isn’t interested in having a partner; rather, cycling comes first and he refuses to allow any distractions to keep him from victory.
Manami would be the most terrible of distractions. Midousuji can tell.
“You have terrible taste, Manami,” he comments, and Manami blinks at him, loses his smile, his eyes widening in… What? Shock? Surprise? Midousuji has time for none of this. “Gross. Speaking to me in public just to confess such gross feelings. What a joke.”
For the first time since the two of them have spoken to each other, Manami looks truly uncomfortable. “Terrible taste? In what? I don’t think I’m following what you mean.”
“If you’re going to have feelings for someone, you ought to pick someone better suited for accepting them, or someone that warrants them at all.” Midousuji is done with this conversation. He pushes himself up off of the grass, dusts off the shorts of his cycling kit, and mounts his De Rosa once more. As far as he is concerned, this conversation is over.
“Wait a minute, you’re saying—” Manami springs in front of his bike in a fluid motion that cannot be entirely human and Midousuji sees feathers once again for just an instant. “You don’t… Warrant romantic feelings? What, that you’re like, not a good person to have a crush on?”
Midousuji sighs at him and folds his arms on top of his handlebars. His patience for this has quickly fizzled out, and he feels himself growing more perturbed by this display as the seconds tick by. “Manami, stop being gross. I thought you were better than this once. You should know as well as I do that chasing something you could never catch is a waste of time.”
“No, I mean, I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d want to date, anyway.” Manami props his hands on his hips, looks as though he tries to steel his resolve. “I just wanted to let you know rather than keep them to myself. But… You shouldn’t think so little of yourself. You’d be a catch for whoever you end up dating. You’re funny, and cute, and you’re more determined than—”
“Gross! Stop that, it’s gross and awful.” Midousuji swats a hand at his face, and Manami does not flinch away, the first person not to for that matter. “I hold no delusions about myself and I’ve never tried to be any of the awful things you just said. Now, go on your way. I’m going home.”
Manami frowns at him. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I? I don’t know what I did to do that, but I clearly have and I’m very sorry. I just wanted you to know that, like… I mean, you’re—”
“Stop that!” Midousuji hisses at him, and again, Manami does not flinch back. “You’re not the first person to say such things and they do nothing for me. They do not interest me. There is only one thing that does, and we already engage in that together.”
“No. You’re going to let me finish this.” Manami puts his hands on the handlebars of the De Rosa and Midousuji learns back, simultaneously furious and impressed. “I think you’re attractive. Like, you’re really cute. Maybe most people are creeped out because you snap your teeth like an animal or because your tongue moves really weirdly or because you’re just in general one of the strangest people I’ve ever met, but I think it’s awesome. You’re unique, and there’s no one else in the world like you.”
Midousuji presses his lips together at this; Manami’s words ring truer at the end than he wants them to and the entire monologue makes him itch all over, makes his face burn in a way he knows he cannot blame on the heat, and he hates it. “Why do you insist on being this way?”
“Because you should know.” Manami takes his hands off of the De Rosa. “Even if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. But you should know that you’re pretty great, Midousuji.”
It’s on the tip of his tongue to remind Manami to add respect onto his name, but he swallows it down and heaves a put-upon sigh. “I suppose… You are not as bad as most of the others.”
Manami’s smile returns full-force. “That’s just like you to say. Thanks, really. Because I know how you feel about other people so it really does mean a lot to me that you don’t see me the same way as you see the rest of them.”
Midousuji’s face burns harder and he drops his head, hiding in the shadows this creates, wetting his nervously dry lips. “Gross, Manami. Now, as I said, I’m going home, and... If you truly hold such useless interest in me, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to see me home.”
“Sure!” Manami looks like he can’t quite believe this offer and Midousuji mirrors this; he isn’t even sure why he made it to begin with, but he feels an odd fondness at the sight of Manami hurriedly straddling his bike once more. “Give me directions and I’ll pull you the whole way.”
The offer is oddly sweet and sweeter still than any useless confessions, so Midousuji nods his head once in assent— he really should stop indulging Manami in such a way— and pulls onto the road behind him. He will stop indulging him after this, but just once more can hardly hurt. And if it makes the ride home easier, so be it.
(And if he allows his insufferable aunt to drag Manami inside, then so be that, too.)
