[FIC] Jumping to Conclusions - by eternalsayonara
Title: Jumping to Conclusions
Author: eternalsayonara
Rating: PG
Warnings: OOCness. >_>;;
Summary: Inui has something to say. Kaidoh is worried.
Criticisms, edits, and comments are always welcome.
“Kaidoh, may I have a moment?” Inui asks after tennis practice, an extra note of formality in his voice.
Immediately, Kaidoh stops zipping shut his tennis bag and stands up very straight. “Yes, senpai,” he says automatically.
Inui adjusts his glasses subconsciously, apparently a little startled at Kaidoh’s response. “Ah, well…” he begins awkwardly, “Are you available to accompany me to my apartment this afternoon?”
“Of course, senpai. Thank you,” Kaidoh responds politely.
Secretly, Kaidoh wonders why Inui is even asking. Inui knows Kaidoh’s schedule very well; in fact, the third year designed it. Today is Tuesday, so after tennis practice Kaidoh is scheduled for a study session with Inui.
Then Kaidoh panics slightly, hoping he hasn’t gotten mixed up. That would be disrespectful after all the meticulous work Inui put into organizing his activities. Kaidoh makes a mental note to check his schedule as soon as possible.
“I’ll just be a moment gathering my belongings,” Inui says, sounding slightly nervous. “I’ll meet you outside in 3.25 minutes.”
“Yes, senpai,” Kaidoh says, as Inui turns awkwardly to his cubby. Kaidoh finishes zipping up his tennis bag, nods farewell to the remaining stragglers of the tennis club, and heads outside.
Furtively glancing around to make sure no one else is around, Kaidoh unzips a side pocket of his tennis bag and takes out a neatly folded piece of paper. He hastily consults his schedule. After “Tennis Practice: Seigaku Tennis Courts”, he is scheduled for “Study Session: Inui’s Apartment”. Kaidoh is relieved, but soon worry starts to sink in. They had been meeting for after school study sessions for several weeks now. Had his senpai forgotten? No, impossible, Kaidoh tells himself. But he still can’t help being confused.
A little while later - Kaidoh doesn’t need a stopwatch to tell him that it is exactly 3.25 minutes later - Inui steps out of the clubroom.
“Ready, Kaidoh?” Inui asks. Without waiting for an answer, Inui starts off in the direction of his apartment. Kaidoh falls into step beside him, taking bigger steps in order to keep up with Inui’s longer stride. He likes the extra effort.
Along the way, Inui talks aimlessly and animatedly. He prattles about his upcoming quiz in mathematics, the way the streetlights remind him of fireflies, how that grocery store at the corner sells exceptionally green tomatoes, and how he has noticed that the spacebar key on his keyboard is feeling lighter than usual and that he hopes it isn’t coming loose.
Kaidoh listens with half an ear, content to just listen to the rise and fall of Inui’s voice. But he also notices that his senpai seems more agitated than usual. He’s fidgeting with his glasses, running a hand through his hair, fiddling with his jacket, and gesturing wildly with his hands.
This behaviour is not out of the ordinary, but the higher frequencies at which they occur are of concern, Kaidoh thinks. Then he has to tell himself to stop thinking like Inui.
Nonetheless, Kaidoh narrows his eyes suspiciously, and lets out a quiet hiss under his breath. He hopes his senpai isn’t nervous about spending more time with him. Inui was the one who scheduled it, after all.
Inui’s steady stream of words trail off as they reach his apartment complex. Kaidoh notices a drop of sweat on his senpai’s forehead as the third year holds open the door to the foyer. Kaidoh ducks his head in thanks, walks through the door, and then turns toward the stairs. (“Exercising in everyday ways can be an effective way of increasing training time,” Inui had said the first time. Now they always took the stairs). There’s no more room for talking as they jog up ten flights of stairs to Inui’s apartment.
They reach Inui’s door, panting slightly. Kaidoh thinks he has the time and energy for a late-night jog tonight after homework and dinner. He doesn’t want to overdo it, though, as “Training: By the River” is tomorrow’s afternoon activity. He thinks he should ask his senpai just in case when they get inside.
Inui wipes his brow and fishes for his keys in his tennis bag. He finally finds them but fumbles with the lock, dropping his keys on the carpeted hallway.
Kaidoh bends down to scoop the keys up. “Here, senpai,” he says, holding his palm up.
“Ah…thank you, Kaidoh,” Inui says, fingers brushing Kaidoh’s palm. He fits the key into the lock, not quite looking at Kaidoh. Inui then holds the door open again, gesturing for Kaidoh to enter first.
Kaidoh steps inside Inui’s apartment and pauses, listening for signs of someone else already home. Inui, however, brushes past him into the kitchen, kicking off his sneakers haphazardly.
Kaidoh scowls slightly at Inui’s back before carefully toeing off his own sneakers. He collects Inui’s sneakers as well, and arranges both pairs of shoes neatly side-by-side.
“Make yourself at home, Kaidoh,” comes Inui’s voice from the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat?” Kaidoh hears the clink of glasswear and china as Inui rummages through the cupboards.
“No, thank you, senpai,” Kaidoh says. “I don’t want to spoil my appetite for dinner.”
There’s a slight pause, and Inui steps out from the kitchen, a little shame-faced. “Of course, Kaidoh. How could I forget?” he says.
Kaidoh tilts his head slightly and wonders the same thing. The second year usually eats a snack after tennis practice to replenish his strength, but anything after that prevents him from finishing the delicious and elaborate meals his mother makes for dinner. Inui knows this first hand; he’s stayed over at Kaidoh’s for dinner many times.
Inui coughs lightly, and then says, “Let’s get our homework started, shall we?” Inui turns and leads the way to his bedroom, but not before Kaidoh notices a muscle in his senpai’s cheek jumping jerkily.
Kaidoh hisses quietly to himself again. He hopes his senpai isn’t getting sick. Inui’s odd behaviour is putting Kaidoh on edge, but he follows obediently into the bedroom.
As usual, Inui’s room is in complete disarray. Tennis magazines are strewn across the floor, and there are more scribbles than ever on his wall. Kaidoh’s palms itch with the need to clean it up, but he doesn’t want to agitate his senpai further. Instead, he sits down quietly next to Inui’s bed and begins unzipping his bag to take out his textbooks and notebooks.
Inui is pacing in front of his desk, muttering quietly to himself. Kaidoh, stealing sidelong glances at his senpai, pretends to be absorbed in his homework until Inui stops pacing and clears his throat. Kaidoh looks up, up, and up. Inui is tall enough already, and sitting down, Kaidoh has to crane his neck to look up. Quickly realizing this, Inui settles himself next to the second year.
“Kaidoh,” Inui says, and pauses, as if unsure how to continue. He drops his gaze, and although his eyes are invisible behind his glasses, Kaidoh is sure that his senpai is looking everywhere but at him.
“Yes, senpai?” Kaidoh asks when the silence stretches out too long.
Inui turns to face Kaidoh again. He sighs softly and begins again. “Kaidoh, I asked you here today because there’s something important I want to tell you,” Inui says very seriously.
And then Kaidoh knows. The formality, the nervousness, the forgetfulness, the fidgeting, the sweating, the cough, and finally the serious discussion: Inui is more than sick.
Inui is dying.
Kaidoh feels panic well up from his stomach and spread to the rest of his body. His heart is beating loudly in his ears and his vision is swimming. He can’t form any coherent thoughts. His eyes are stinging and he feels his body jerking convulsively. Oh God, Kaidoh thinks or says, he isn’t sure which. Not senpai. Not senpai.
Kaidoh distantly hears Inui’s voice calling his name with some urgency. Kaidoh’s vision suddenly comes back into sharp focus, and there is his senpai, a hand on his shoulder and concern written on his face.
Kaidoh’s breath hitches in his throat and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s flinging his arms around Inui’s neck and holding on tightly.
“You’re not going to die, senpai,” Kaidoh says fiercely.
Inui goes rigid, and then tries to relax after a moment. “Kaidoh?” he says, sounding puzzled.
Kaidoh tightens his hold. “I won’t let you, senpai,” he growls.
Inui makes a strangled noise, and Kaidoh realizes there’s no point in swearing to save his senpai’s life while choking him to death. Kaidoh loosens his hold, but doesn’t let go, resting his cheek against Inui’s collarbone. He won’t give up on his senpai. He won’t.
“I’m not dying, Kaidoh,” Inui says hoarsely, when he regains his breath.
Kaidoh stiffens and stops breathing for a moment. He forces his body to relax, and then inhales deeply, breathing in his senpai’s familiar scent. Kaidoh then shifts his head down a little further and listens to Inui’s heartbeat, strong and steady.
Thumpthumpthump. Inui’s pulse is elevated, but not erratic. Thumpthumpthump. The sound gives Kaidoh courage.
“Are you sure, senpai?” Kaidoh asks quietly.
“One hundred percent,” Inui replies, still sounding a bit bewildered.
The second year pulls back, letting his hands fall from Inui’s neck. Relief is flooding him like adrenaline during a match. He’s shaky with it, but he's too relieved to care.
“Are you all right, Kaidoh?” Inui asks. “I…did not expect such a reaction.”
Kaidoh flushes, and only then remembers how inappropriately he acted. “I’m sorry, senpai,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I’m fine, really.”
Kaidoh wants to run all the way home and then lock himself in his room, but he’s not sure his legs will carry him that far. That, and Inui knows where he lives.
Instead, Kaidoh hunches over, hugging his knees and averting his face. He’s too humiliated to look Inui in the eye. Stupid, he tells himself, digging his fingernails into his palms. So stupid. He wants to apologize properly, but it’s all he can do to just sit there on the floor by Inui’s side.
“Kaidoh…” Inui says, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder again. Kaidoh jerks away before he can stop himself. He knows he’s only making things worse, but he can’t help it.
Inui sighs. “This is not going according to my calculations,” he says quietly to himself.
Then Kaidoh remembers that Inui had something important to say. He’s desperate to do something - anything - to relieve the tension. Kaidoh struggles to find his voice.
“What…what did you want to tell me?” Kaidoh asks hesitantly. Hundreds of other terrible possibilities crash through his brain, distracting him from his embarrassment. Was Inui choosing another doubles partner? Was his quitting the tennis club? Was he moving away? Was someone else sick or dying?
Inui shifts uncomfortably on the floor. “Maybe this isn’t the best time for this conversation,” he says.
Kaidoh shakes his head vehemently. He needs to know. He needs something to hold on to, something else to obsess over. “Please, senpai,” he says. “I’m…I’m sorry for my behaviour earlier.” Kaidoh's cheeks flare. “But, please, I want to know.”
Inui regards him oddly. “I hope that my probability of success has increased dramatically now that your suspicions of my demise have been allayed,” he says.
“…Senpai?” Kaidoh asks, confused.
Inui braces himself and takes a deep breath. “I…like you, Kaidoh,” he says slowly. “As more than a teammate. As more than a doubles partner. As…as more than a friend.”
Kaidoh stares at Inui, not saying a word. The seconds tick by.
Worry lacing his voice, Inui speaks again: “Kaidoh? Did…did you hear me?”
Kaidoh narrows his eyes in concern. He looks his senpai up and down and back up again. Inui doesn’t look sick - just nervous. But Kaidoh isn’t certain. He hates not being certain.
“Are you sure you’re not dying, senpai?” Kaidoh finally asks.
Inui’s eyes widen in surprise behind his glasses, apparently not quite sure what to make of the other's behaviour. “Yes, Kaidoh,” he says. “I received a complete physical just last week, and I’m completely healthy. In fact, I - ”
Kaidoh cuts off Inui’s words in a fierce hug. His arms wrap around Inui’s shoulders faster than he can think - a by-product of his training in increasing his reaction time. He doesn’t care about inappropriateness or humiliation this time. He doesn’t care about any of it. He just presses his face into Inui's chest and shuts his eyes.
Inui holds himself very still, as if afraid to startle Kaidoh away. Kaidoh can feel the rise of Inui’s chest as he takes in a deep breath. He can feel the slightest buzzing of Inui’s throat as he speaks.
“Kaidoh…” Inui says, almost at a loss for words. “About what I said…” he continues, but trails off.
Kaidoh feels his face warm and his throat dry up. “I…” he says into Inui’s shirt, and chokes. He counts ten of Inui’s heartbeats before he tries again. “I…I’m glad you’re not dying, senpai,” is all he manages. Kaidoh holds on a little tighter.
It’s only then that Inui, laughing lightly, finally returns Kaidoh’s embrace. He pulls Kaidoh closer, resting his chin on his kouhai’s head. “I’m glad I’m not dying either,” Inui murmurs.
They stay like that together for several moments until Kaidoh pulls back abruptly. He glares at Inui, and although his cheeks are red, his expression is dark and angry.
Inui blinks and barely has time to process this new turn of events before Kaidoh is punching him on the arm hard enough to bruise.
“Ow!” Inui yelps, flinching.
Kaidoh hisses viciously in response.
“Kaidoh!” Inui exclaims, his brain whirring. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Inui-senpai,” Kaidoh growls, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Author: eternalsayonara
Rating: PG
Warnings: OOCness. >_>;;
Summary: Inui has something to say. Kaidoh is worried.
Criticisms, edits, and comments are always welcome.
“Kaidoh, may I have a moment?” Inui asks after tennis practice, an extra note of formality in his voice.
Immediately, Kaidoh stops zipping shut his tennis bag and stands up very straight. “Yes, senpai,” he says automatically.
Inui adjusts his glasses subconsciously, apparently a little startled at Kaidoh’s response. “Ah, well…” he begins awkwardly, “Are you available to accompany me to my apartment this afternoon?”
“Of course, senpai. Thank you,” Kaidoh responds politely.
Secretly, Kaidoh wonders why Inui is even asking. Inui knows Kaidoh’s schedule very well; in fact, the third year designed it. Today is Tuesday, so after tennis practice Kaidoh is scheduled for a study session with Inui.
Then Kaidoh panics slightly, hoping he hasn’t gotten mixed up. That would be disrespectful after all the meticulous work Inui put into organizing his activities. Kaidoh makes a mental note to check his schedule as soon as possible.
“I’ll just be a moment gathering my belongings,” Inui says, sounding slightly nervous. “I’ll meet you outside in 3.25 minutes.”
“Yes, senpai,” Kaidoh says, as Inui turns awkwardly to his cubby. Kaidoh finishes zipping up his tennis bag, nods farewell to the remaining stragglers of the tennis club, and heads outside.
Furtively glancing around to make sure no one else is around, Kaidoh unzips a side pocket of his tennis bag and takes out a neatly folded piece of paper. He hastily consults his schedule. After “Tennis Practice: Seigaku Tennis Courts”, he is scheduled for “Study Session: Inui’s Apartment”. Kaidoh is relieved, but soon worry starts to sink in. They had been meeting for after school study sessions for several weeks now. Had his senpai forgotten? No, impossible, Kaidoh tells himself. But he still can’t help being confused.
A little while later - Kaidoh doesn’t need a stopwatch to tell him that it is exactly 3.25 minutes later - Inui steps out of the clubroom.
“Ready, Kaidoh?” Inui asks. Without waiting for an answer, Inui starts off in the direction of his apartment. Kaidoh falls into step beside him, taking bigger steps in order to keep up with Inui’s longer stride. He likes the extra effort.
Along the way, Inui talks aimlessly and animatedly. He prattles about his upcoming quiz in mathematics, the way the streetlights remind him of fireflies, how that grocery store at the corner sells exceptionally green tomatoes, and how he has noticed that the spacebar key on his keyboard is feeling lighter than usual and that he hopes it isn’t coming loose.
Kaidoh listens with half an ear, content to just listen to the rise and fall of Inui’s voice. But he also notices that his senpai seems more agitated than usual. He’s fidgeting with his glasses, running a hand through his hair, fiddling with his jacket, and gesturing wildly with his hands.
This behaviour is not out of the ordinary, but the higher frequencies at which they occur are of concern, Kaidoh thinks. Then he has to tell himself to stop thinking like Inui.
Nonetheless, Kaidoh narrows his eyes suspiciously, and lets out a quiet hiss under his breath. He hopes his senpai isn’t nervous about spending more time with him. Inui was the one who scheduled it, after all.
Inui’s steady stream of words trail off as they reach his apartment complex. Kaidoh notices a drop of sweat on his senpai’s forehead as the third year holds open the door to the foyer. Kaidoh ducks his head in thanks, walks through the door, and then turns toward the stairs. (“Exercising in everyday ways can be an effective way of increasing training time,” Inui had said the first time. Now they always took the stairs). There’s no more room for talking as they jog up ten flights of stairs to Inui’s apartment.
They reach Inui’s door, panting slightly. Kaidoh thinks he has the time and energy for a late-night jog tonight after homework and dinner. He doesn’t want to overdo it, though, as “Training: By the River” is tomorrow’s afternoon activity. He thinks he should ask his senpai just in case when they get inside.
Inui wipes his brow and fishes for his keys in his tennis bag. He finally finds them but fumbles with the lock, dropping his keys on the carpeted hallway.
Kaidoh bends down to scoop the keys up. “Here, senpai,” he says, holding his palm up.
“Ah…thank you, Kaidoh,” Inui says, fingers brushing Kaidoh’s palm. He fits the key into the lock, not quite looking at Kaidoh. Inui then holds the door open again, gesturing for Kaidoh to enter first.
Kaidoh steps inside Inui’s apartment and pauses, listening for signs of someone else already home. Inui, however, brushes past him into the kitchen, kicking off his sneakers haphazardly.
Kaidoh scowls slightly at Inui’s back before carefully toeing off his own sneakers. He collects Inui’s sneakers as well, and arranges both pairs of shoes neatly side-by-side.
“Make yourself at home, Kaidoh,” comes Inui’s voice from the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat?” Kaidoh hears the clink of glasswear and china as Inui rummages through the cupboards.
“No, thank you, senpai,” Kaidoh says. “I don’t want to spoil my appetite for dinner.”
There’s a slight pause, and Inui steps out from the kitchen, a little shame-faced. “Of course, Kaidoh. How could I forget?” he says.
Kaidoh tilts his head slightly and wonders the same thing. The second year usually eats a snack after tennis practice to replenish his strength, but anything after that prevents him from finishing the delicious and elaborate meals his mother makes for dinner. Inui knows this first hand; he’s stayed over at Kaidoh’s for dinner many times.
Inui coughs lightly, and then says, “Let’s get our homework started, shall we?” Inui turns and leads the way to his bedroom, but not before Kaidoh notices a muscle in his senpai’s cheek jumping jerkily.
Kaidoh hisses quietly to himself again. He hopes his senpai isn’t getting sick. Inui’s odd behaviour is putting Kaidoh on edge, but he follows obediently into the bedroom.
As usual, Inui’s room is in complete disarray. Tennis magazines are strewn across the floor, and there are more scribbles than ever on his wall. Kaidoh’s palms itch with the need to clean it up, but he doesn’t want to agitate his senpai further. Instead, he sits down quietly next to Inui’s bed and begins unzipping his bag to take out his textbooks and notebooks.
Inui is pacing in front of his desk, muttering quietly to himself. Kaidoh, stealing sidelong glances at his senpai, pretends to be absorbed in his homework until Inui stops pacing and clears his throat. Kaidoh looks up, up, and up. Inui is tall enough already, and sitting down, Kaidoh has to crane his neck to look up. Quickly realizing this, Inui settles himself next to the second year.
“Kaidoh,” Inui says, and pauses, as if unsure how to continue. He drops his gaze, and although his eyes are invisible behind his glasses, Kaidoh is sure that his senpai is looking everywhere but at him.
“Yes, senpai?” Kaidoh asks when the silence stretches out too long.
Inui turns to face Kaidoh again. He sighs softly and begins again. “Kaidoh, I asked you here today because there’s something important I want to tell you,” Inui says very seriously.
And then Kaidoh knows. The formality, the nervousness, the forgetfulness, the fidgeting, the sweating, the cough, and finally the serious discussion: Inui is more than sick.
Inui is dying.
Kaidoh feels panic well up from his stomach and spread to the rest of his body. His heart is beating loudly in his ears and his vision is swimming. He can’t form any coherent thoughts. His eyes are stinging and he feels his body jerking convulsively. Oh God, Kaidoh thinks or says, he isn’t sure which. Not senpai. Not senpai.
Kaidoh distantly hears Inui’s voice calling his name with some urgency. Kaidoh’s vision suddenly comes back into sharp focus, and there is his senpai, a hand on his shoulder and concern written on his face.
Kaidoh’s breath hitches in his throat and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s flinging his arms around Inui’s neck and holding on tightly.
“You’re not going to die, senpai,” Kaidoh says fiercely.
Inui goes rigid, and then tries to relax after a moment. “Kaidoh?” he says, sounding puzzled.
Kaidoh tightens his hold. “I won’t let you, senpai,” he growls.
Inui makes a strangled noise, and Kaidoh realizes there’s no point in swearing to save his senpai’s life while choking him to death. Kaidoh loosens his hold, but doesn’t let go, resting his cheek against Inui’s collarbone. He won’t give up on his senpai. He won’t.
“I’m not dying, Kaidoh,” Inui says hoarsely, when he regains his breath.
Kaidoh stiffens and stops breathing for a moment. He forces his body to relax, and then inhales deeply, breathing in his senpai’s familiar scent. Kaidoh then shifts his head down a little further and listens to Inui’s heartbeat, strong and steady.
Thumpthumpthump. Inui’s pulse is elevated, but not erratic. Thumpthumpthump. The sound gives Kaidoh courage.
“Are you sure, senpai?” Kaidoh asks quietly.
“One hundred percent,” Inui replies, still sounding a bit bewildered.
The second year pulls back, letting his hands fall from Inui’s neck. Relief is flooding him like adrenaline during a match. He’s shaky with it, but he's too relieved to care.
“Are you all right, Kaidoh?” Inui asks. “I…did not expect such a reaction.”
Kaidoh flushes, and only then remembers how inappropriately he acted. “I’m sorry, senpai,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I’m fine, really.”
Kaidoh wants to run all the way home and then lock himself in his room, but he’s not sure his legs will carry him that far. That, and Inui knows where he lives.
Instead, Kaidoh hunches over, hugging his knees and averting his face. He’s too humiliated to look Inui in the eye. Stupid, he tells himself, digging his fingernails into his palms. So stupid. He wants to apologize properly, but it’s all he can do to just sit there on the floor by Inui’s side.
“Kaidoh…” Inui says, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder again. Kaidoh jerks away before he can stop himself. He knows he’s only making things worse, but he can’t help it.
Inui sighs. “This is not going according to my calculations,” he says quietly to himself.
Then Kaidoh remembers that Inui had something important to say. He’s desperate to do something - anything - to relieve the tension. Kaidoh struggles to find his voice.
“What…what did you want to tell me?” Kaidoh asks hesitantly. Hundreds of other terrible possibilities crash through his brain, distracting him from his embarrassment. Was Inui choosing another doubles partner? Was his quitting the tennis club? Was he moving away? Was someone else sick or dying?
Inui shifts uncomfortably on the floor. “Maybe this isn’t the best time for this conversation,” he says.
Kaidoh shakes his head vehemently. He needs to know. He needs something to hold on to, something else to obsess over. “Please, senpai,” he says. “I’m…I’m sorry for my behaviour earlier.” Kaidoh's cheeks flare. “But, please, I want to know.”
Inui regards him oddly. “I hope that my probability of success has increased dramatically now that your suspicions of my demise have been allayed,” he says.
“…Senpai?” Kaidoh asks, confused.
Inui braces himself and takes a deep breath. “I…like you, Kaidoh,” he says slowly. “As more than a teammate. As more than a doubles partner. As…as more than a friend.”
Kaidoh stares at Inui, not saying a word. The seconds tick by.
Worry lacing his voice, Inui speaks again: “Kaidoh? Did…did you hear me?”
Kaidoh narrows his eyes in concern. He looks his senpai up and down and back up again. Inui doesn’t look sick - just nervous. But Kaidoh isn’t certain. He hates not being certain.
“Are you sure you’re not dying, senpai?” Kaidoh finally asks.
Inui’s eyes widen in surprise behind his glasses, apparently not quite sure what to make of the other's behaviour. “Yes, Kaidoh,” he says. “I received a complete physical just last week, and I’m completely healthy. In fact, I - ”
Kaidoh cuts off Inui’s words in a fierce hug. His arms wrap around Inui’s shoulders faster than he can think - a by-product of his training in increasing his reaction time. He doesn’t care about inappropriateness or humiliation this time. He doesn’t care about any of it. He just presses his face into Inui's chest and shuts his eyes.
Inui holds himself very still, as if afraid to startle Kaidoh away. Kaidoh can feel the rise of Inui’s chest as he takes in a deep breath. He can feel the slightest buzzing of Inui’s throat as he speaks.
“Kaidoh…” Inui says, almost at a loss for words. “About what I said…” he continues, but trails off.
Kaidoh feels his face warm and his throat dry up. “I…” he says into Inui’s shirt, and chokes. He counts ten of Inui’s heartbeats before he tries again. “I…I’m glad you’re not dying, senpai,” is all he manages. Kaidoh holds on a little tighter.
It’s only then that Inui, laughing lightly, finally returns Kaidoh’s embrace. He pulls Kaidoh closer, resting his chin on his kouhai’s head. “I’m glad I’m not dying either,” Inui murmurs.
They stay like that together for several moments until Kaidoh pulls back abruptly. He glares at Inui, and although his cheeks are red, his expression is dark and angry.
Inui blinks and barely has time to process this new turn of events before Kaidoh is punching him on the arm hard enough to bruise.
“Ow!” Inui yelps, flinching.
Kaidoh hisses viciously in response.
“Kaidoh!” Inui exclaims, his brain whirring. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Inui-senpai,” Kaidoh growls, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”