79. BRIGHT EYES

note: say thank you guys this took a lot out of me

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SHIDOU

Ryusei wakes up with bandages across his face and a strange warm sensation stuck inside his nose. Long blonde lashes fan over glowing pink eyes—he blinks once, then twice, then once more. The light burns his retina but it's manageable.

He looks around. He's still in the nurse's office. He doesn't know how long he's been out.

It has to have been a while, judging by the way his head has a dull ache and he feels like he's just travelled to an alternate world. Everything is fuzzy. He remembers being held back by Karasu and Charles, but even that was hard to remember, at best.

Shidou traces the fabric bandaid over his nose with light touches, brows scrunching together. He can't feel his nose. At all.

"What the fuck..." He mumbles, to nobody in particular. He looks down at his arms and sees the bruises Rin managed to get on him were covered by some weird sort of green cream. It made his skin feel numb to the touch. It was a weird experience.

Shidou Ryusei had never been taken care of like this. He isn't too sure he likes it.

His hair is also really messed up, too. He slides back, sitting on the bed with sheets thrown lazily to the side and fiddles with his blonde locks to try and at least get them back to usual.

Glancing around—the room is silent, eye-burningly bright, and incredibly empty. There is only one other thing that sticks out in the blank white room. On the desk beside him, there is a note and a singular bandaid. It's a pink bandaid with a cutesy cartoon character on it.

He grabs the note, a little harsher than he should've, and reads over it.

Shidou. Stop getting into fights. You singlehandedly triple the electricity bill every month.

He scowls, eyes sharpening into a stark glare at the piece of paper. For this small moment, he believes it is sent straight from Ego. He was a hair's width away from scrunching up the lame piece of paper and throwing it in the trash bin beside him, when he caught sight of the text that was much smaller, underneath it in the same style of writing.

Please take care of yourself, Ryusei. Don't make my life any harder or more worrisome than it has to be, and calm down. It's not good for you. You're going to get in real trouble if you keep doing this when you grow up, you know.

He blinks down, froggish and silent at the piece of paper.

He's never felt so loved.

It's weird, especially because he feels loved and he isn't even turned on.

That's even weirder. Shidou's never felt love in such a way before.

Still, he scrunches up the piece of paper and tosses it carelessly behind him—it is only by coincidence and sheer luck that it manages to land in a bin.

He stands up—head still slightly spinning—and shoves his hands in his pockets—ignoring the way there are drips of bloodstains on his shirt and uncaring of the way his nose throbs dully with every movement.

He has a lot to think about—but Ryusei Shidou isn't very well known for his inquisitive mind, so his first, and only, thought is just to find you.

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[ONE HOUR PRIOR...]

Rin Itoshi has been doing a lot of thinking since the last time you two had kissed. A moment of fiery passion, disgustingly hot love—a moment that was a huge mistake. 

Rin does not make mistakes. He makes misjudgements in the spur of the moment, he sometimes makes short-handed decisions that lead to more bad than good—but he does not make mistakes. He has never made a mistake, not since Sae—and he has never dared to after him either—not until you.

That moment was a huge mistake. If that moment never happened, Rin would not be feeling like this. He would not be feeling like his stomach was on the verge of collapsing in on itself and he would not be wanting to vomit up his insides like they were rotten food.

If it weren't for you, everything would be fine.

You're so annoying.

Rin does not like you.

But he does not have to like you to be feeling like this, does he? A churning want in his stomach that spreads like liquid molten to the dips of his fingertips—Itoshi Rin does not have to like you in any one bit to desire your mouth on his, just once more.

The mere thought of this unabashed, horrid feeling of softness, weakness, makes bile rise in his throat and his jaw clench hard.

He hates it. More than he hated that feeling of camaraderie—the feeling of security knowing that other people had your back, a feeling that makes him shiver with disgust—he hates this feeling more than anything.

You are a sick, sick woman, he's decided, especially when you walk out of that infirmary room like everything is absolutely, indefinitely fine. You probably are fine, and Rin is the only one feeling like the waves crashing against the rocky shore at this very moment.

He's alone, once again. Figures.

You don't spot him leaning against the wall behind him ever so cooly with his arms crossed at first. It takes a few more awkward moments of him staring and waiting to catch your attention before your eyes meet his and they widen in clear surprise.

You did not expect to see him. Maybe it hadn't even been a possibility in your mind. His stomach churns.

"Rin?" You saying his name sounded more like an unconscious act of shock than anything, and he does not get a chance to say your name back before you complete your unfinished sentence, "Are you okay? I heard you got into a scuffle with Shidou."

Your tone is concerned, filled with worry, but he is not stupid enough to miss the underlying scolding you're trying to hint at him. You're just waiting for the words to leave his lips, that he's fine, for you to jump at the chance and start to lecture him as if your life depended on it.

He knows you far too well.

He doesn't like that, either.

You look a little closer at him—a little too close for comfort, and his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Your nose is still a little crooked, but it's fine. You don't look to be hurt."

He is, he wants to say. His face is burning up and his chest feels like it is going to explode. It cannot be normal—not normal for somebody like Itoshi Rin, anyway.

"I'm..." The words die on his tongue when he accidentally locks eyes with you—and like a curse—he cannot pull them away. He feels sick. He might vomit. This is disgusting. "I'm... fine."

You move your head away from his and he can finally breathe again. "Good. Now, tell me—what were you thinking?!"

Here it comes, he begins to think—stopping himself from rolling his eyes.

"I mean—come on! Again? Do you realise how—" You let out a shrill groan of frustration and dig your face into your hands. "—stupid you two are!? But... still..."

The words you trail off make him raise his head in interest. Just slightly. "I guess... I can't say much... I can't get as mad as I used to be, because I'm not your manager anymore."

He never really thought of that. Perhaps, in his mind, he was still stuck in that time before the u-20 match—trapped in limbo with that mindset forevermore. Perhaps, in his mind, you two were still together.

What a foolish thought. Rin Itoshi had never really grown up—not after the popsicles, not after Sae, not after that game, where he let everything go. He is still a child.

"You two aren't my responsibility anymore, and yet... I still can't help but feel worried about you." You smile a little—it feels a little sad if Rin could pick up on anything. "Maybe it is because of a bond that runs deeper than just professionalism."

His heart could stop in his chest.

"Rin, what I'm trying to say is... I care about you, and I don't want to see you—"

No.

No.

No.

He grabs ahold of your shoulders and looks you dead in the eye—the intensity of this stare makes your stomach loop and lips part in shock. You do not get a chance to say anything before he leans in and dips his face against yours—head tilted to the side and nose brushing against your cheek.

Your eyes widen in shock and you barely have any chance to kiss him back before his tongue slips into your mouth and he kisses you so deeply you could believe he's trying to fuse you two together.

Don't say those words to me.

Don't you dare speak.

Rin doesn't think he could handle hearing you say those words. 

He doesn't want to know that you care for him. He doesn't want you to care for him.

You're nothing.

That is why his heart beats wildly out of his chest and he dips his lips in for more, more, and more. That is why he kisses you with so much ferocity it's like he's trying to devour you where you stand and that is why his brain fogs with heavy mist when your hands entangle themselves in his dark locks.

His chest heaves as you pull your lips away, slightly so, catching your hot and heavy breaths and eyes bleary with cloudiness. The way you look at him, with these eyes—it makes him clench his jaw hard and his hand finds its way down to your waist.

He tugs you closer, and you fall into him like a domino. Your chest is right up against his and he's sure you can feel the way his heart ferociously pounds.

"Rin..."

Once more, he does not wish to know what sort of words may follow your whiny tone—so he dips his head in, down, once more and kisses you.

It was so much different to his first time with you—he was angry, his head was spinning and he thinks more blood rushed to his head than out his nose—but now, he feels like that anger has turned from a raging tide to a still sea. Like water droplets cascading down from deep grey clouds to the damp earth below—you have this effect on Rin that simultaneously makes him angry and at peace.

You are the most confusing variable in Rin Itoshi's life.

It used to be Isagi. A genius at adaptability and the one he wished to destroy the most—until you waltzed right in, into his mind, body, and soul, you will not leave his thoughts.

You must be some demon, he reasons, with how easily you snuck into the impenetrable walls of his heart.

But looking at you now—he cracks his eyes open every so slightly and his long lashes flutter against your cheek—your cheeks are flushed and the lights shine down on your hair and you simply glow underneath his touch.

You cannot be anything but an angel.

His hand reaches over to your cheek and he touches you with so much gentleness it makes him want to vomit. His thumb strokes the apple of your cheek and he tilts his head to the side—deepening the kiss with more fondness than he would've liked.

Oh well.

He might as well enjoy this, right?

There's nothing wrong with giving in to your desires once...

His body burns brightly with the heat of a star and every alarm in his head is screaming at him to stop—but his wandering hand does not seem to listen—with a mind of its own, it slips behind you and slowly traces up the back of your shirt—the smooth expanse of your skin against his rough, calloused fingertips is a feeling he doesn't think he'll forget anytime soon.

You shiver, and he thinks he might die. His stomach churns hotly when he feels the dip of your spine and he hardly thinks as he bites down on your bottom lip—you pull your head away with a wince, but his free hand reaches up and entangles itself tightly with the back of your head to jerk you back forward.

He could seriously die with the way your voice sounds, slightly muffled—"Rin..."

He pulls his lips away and trails a small line of featherlight, yet increasingly slopping kisses down your chin, jaw, and where he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. He can feel you greedily gasping for air—a tingle zips down his body at the thought of you preparing yourself for when he may kiss your neck.

He does not dare sink his teeth into you—he knew better than to—his better judgement wins, at least, this time.

He presses a kiss to your neck—and Rin Itoshi is well and truly fucked.

He realises this when he feels an upward twitch of his lips at how you giggle—ticklish and squirmy.

Rin Itoshi is incredibly fucked.

He forces himself to lift his face and look you in the eye—half-lidded and cold—yet, despite this, you are warm and bright and all the happiness he is not. You are glowing.

He thinks back to the time you two had first had such a moment, once more.

* Rin watches you leave, and walk out that door until you're no longer in sight. He watches a little longer than he should've—looking at where you had disappeared, and he suddenly feels the urge to go after you. But he doesn't, lest his pride eat him alive.

He looks deep into your honey gaze and you tilt your head. His heart won't stop pounding.

If I didn't watch you walk away and reached for your hand—would everything be different?

Would all of this be different? The way you fall into his arms, yet still retain a sense of distance that makes his stomach ache—the way you kiss him but still do not stare as if he if a dream and is everything—would that have all changed?

He can't help but wonder.

Even so, all this becomes white noise in his brain as your eyes crinkle upward into a smile—so beautiful he believes he may just melt on the spot.

Rin Itoshi is well and truly fucked.

Open your eyes...

The world is so dark without them.

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