fic: A Sentimental Mind (2/4)
Ryu is used to fear. It doesn’t startle him much, not really. It doesn’t mean he likes it, per se - he doesn’t, not at all. It makes his stomach churn uneasily and heart pound anxiously as he observes it, his own fists shaking as he stands stiffly, jaw clenched. What he hates the most about violence is the weird animalistic sensations and impulses it tries to lure out of him. He’s afraid of losing control, afraid of the breakdown of his artificial composure as he enjoys the raw pleasure he gets from sinking his knuckles in someone’s soft flesh. He’s not proud of it, and he’s been brought up to know better than to pursue that hollow joy. Sometimes, though, he’s afraid the core of him is rotten deep and filled with violent urges that keep resurfacing.
It’s never been accepted. His violent behaviour’s been reduced by the constant social pressure around him, but that was all before he first set his foot in the classroom of 1-D. Right now, violence is what gets his peers cheering and laughing. He gets hostile glares or demeaning chuckles from the teachers and students from other classes, and gets harassed over his class more often than not - if anyone dares to open their mouth, that is, because 1-D is known for feeling no shame about pushing a tiny group of bullies around for saying bad things about them with the force of their entire class.
Ryu mostly doesn’t care. He’s learned self-discipline, so he stands quietly with his hands in his pockets and watches as his friends flame fire and let the world know it. “It helps sometimes,” Take tells him quietly one day after school when it’s just the two of them walking along a riverbank. “Nothing’s good, it just feels like everything is crumbling away and there’s no way to stop it, you know? It’s an outlet of sorts. Being together, fighting for something in unison.”
It’s understandable, on a thought level. How to unleash all those desperate feelings in practice, well, that is something Ryu finds difficult to relate to.
The night is creeping up on them again, but the nightlife is still alive and vibrant around them as they leave the game centre. Hyuuga and Tsucchi are arguing loudly about who the actual winner of the billiard game is. Take is trying to break them off and insists there’s nothing wrong at all with a tie. Hayato leads the group absently, his back profile distant somewhere ahead of the ruckus Ryu faces as he follows the bunch a few steps behind, not bothering with the pointless argument.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Ryu feels his eyebrows shooting up under his fringe. The argument dies and there’s silence - a group of boys around their age are glaring at Hayato with clenched fists and threatening expressions on their faces. Hayato sighs deeply, annoyed, and turns around on his heels to face the bunch he’d probably collided into. “What?” Hayato barks at them and snorts disrespectfully. “You’ve got a problem?”
“You want to take us on, man?” one of the boys howls amusedly and gives his friends amused looks. Ryu sees the vein pulsating on Hayato’s temple and he pushes through their friends to grab the other boy harshly from his bicep.
“Let it go,” he tells his friend with a snarl and tries to meet his gaze. Hayato doesn’t look at him, his eyes glued to the group. Then he laughs and Ryu wants to roll his eyes. Sometimes Hayato makes him want to punch his face in.
“What are you laughing at?”
“What are you?” Hayato yells with a hoarse voice. There’s a wild gleam in his eyes and Ryu wonders what’s wrong with him today for the hundredth time, but then again, everything probably is. “If you think you’re big enough to boast then show what makes you such a prissy punk.”
“Hayato!” Ryu hollers and pulls him back. It’s too late, though - the group is approaching them, their fists drawn back. The leader gets into a pretty serious looking fist fight with Hayato, both of their faces laced with intense hatred and machismo. Someone grabs Ryu from the collar and he grabs the boy by the wrists and struggles, adrenaline shooting through his veins. Then he loses track of what’s going on.
There are pained cries and grunts, and someone spits blood at his neck. There are three people pulling on his clothes and punching his face before he snaps and decides to protect himself. He elbows them with full power and lets them have what’s coming at them, aka his fist with full force. It sinks in and he feels things cracking. He shoves someone roughly to the ground and kicks them as he sees Take from the corner of his eye in a dire situation. He jumps over the form to protect his friend furiously, hits again and again and again until his knuckles are raw and bleeding and there’s a taste of iron coating his tongue. There’s a hand on his shoulder and he turns around sharply but it’s only Hayato, who’s turned the other way around, blocking an attack someone had tried to make to the back of his head with an empty beer bottle. Ryu doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hayato so outraged.
Hayato spits over the leader after their group lies on the ground, shaking and coughing helplessly. “Tell your friends to have a look out for Yabuki Hayato from Kurogin,” he tells with a mocking voice and does his peace sign gesture by bending his fingers twice. “See ya.”
Ryu helps Take to drag Hyuuga back on his feet. Hayato joins them soon and then it’s Ryu and Hayato who have a badly bruised Hyuuga’s arms around their shoulders and they’re fleeing the scene before the police can catch them. Tsucchi is leading them somewhere through the darker districts and concrete tunnels to safety. Ryu’s heart beats and his body feels warm.
“Did you see their faces?” Tsucchi laughs triumphantly and Hayato beams as they wipe Hyuuga’s bloody face with dry napkins. Hyuuga’s smiling too, though, his face swollen and blue. None of them have escaped without battle injuries, but mostly they’re fine. Hayato checks it with everyone, his leader habits kicking in. Ryu ponders why he feels so euphoric and relieved.
“I didn’t know you had such a strong right hook, Ryu,” Take suddenly notes with a grin and Ryu blinks, staring at him dumbly.
“Ah, I saw that too!” Hyuuga cries out and flinches as his movement opens the cut under his hairline. Tsucchi ruffles his hair, baby talking something incoherent, and Hayato’s chest puffs in pride as he pats Ryu’s shoulder. Ryu doesn’t know what he feels.
“It’s good to get some steam out,” Hayato sighs and cracks his neck lazily. “God, I needed that.”
Steam out. Ryu looks at the bright lamp above them. Maybe that’s what it is then - an outlet.
If it is, maybe it isn’t so bad. Not when his friends all smile and joke so easily afterwards.
Hayato earns himself a reputation from the fight. There are strategies and more fights which make Ryu feel light and newly born. Their name gets out and 1-D rises on the list of dangerous people to look out for that circulates around the schools around the area.
Nothing’s ever quite the same after that. They turn from defiant punks into small-scale criminals. It rubs him just the right way.
--
When the break bell rings, half of the class dashes out to the school yards with a worn football they’ve been throwing to each other through the entire class. Not everyone leaves, though, because no one ever makes them. Some people join the card game that had been going on for the majority of the previous class and some take part in the darts game. Ryu doesn’t bother getting up from his chair.
“Odagiri-kun, may I have a word with you?” the teacher asks him. He pulls a chair from the empty desk in front of Ryu’s and sits down before him. Ryu raises his eyebrows calmly in question, not bothering to even straighten up on his chair.
“You’re the only one in this class with potential, Odagiri,” the teacher lectures him and Ryu scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re wasting your talent. Your grades have dropped and you don’t pay attention. I’ve been hearing rumours about you engaging in fights after school,” he notes strictly. “I’m here to help you learn, Ryu, so that you won’t have to be in this situation for the rest of your life. Meet me halfway.”
Ryu can’t help but smile to himself darkly. It’s really easy for the teacher to say that, isn’t it? He doesn’t have all the pressure and expectations over his shoulders to weigh him down, he’s not the one who needs to find the motivation to study when no one else does and the classes are absolutely useless.
“I understand that you’re frustrated -”
“What’s going on here?”
Hayato hops on Ryu’s desk, his eyes glued to the teacher’s. He’s trying to be intimidating, and Ryu has no idea why he has to poke his nose into everyone’s business all the time. He rolls his eyes and sighs.
“It’s fine, Hayato,” he tells his friend with a sure and disinterested voice. “It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s something,” Hayato insists bitterly and kicks the teacher’s chair as a warning. “What is he going to do, huh? Transfer you? Give you some after school classes? Save you from us?” His laughter is sharp and vile. Ryu fights the urge to bury his face in his hands just because Hayato is so painfully stupid. “Like hell.”
“You don’t need to ruin the future of those who still have a chance at it,” the teacher mocks Hayato without the slightest hint of guilt.
Hayato’s face falls and there’s a brief flash of insecurity in his eyes before he covers it up with rage. “You…!” he growls and the teacher gets up on his feet, just in case. He’s used to Hayato’s uncontrollable violent impulses.
“I’ll have a talk with your father, Odagiri,” the teacher finally announces, turning his gaze back at Ryu whose hands clench into fists in his pockets. “We’ll talk about discipline and possible extra assignments after school to improve your grades. You’re not stupid. You know better than to let this go on for too long.”
“He doesn’t need that,” Hayato threatens and Ryu turns his head away. He doesn’t want it, nor does he think it’ll do him any good, but he’s really sick of his friend speaking for him. He isn’t a puppet.
“Hayato, shut up,” he warns him but Hayato ignores him completely as he draws his fist back and attacks the teacher, who’s quick to defend himself.
Soon, the entire class is on their feed to rush in to help their comrade. There’s a lot of blood and in the end Ryu doesn’t even know who’s fighting with who, because the entire class has turned into a war zone around his desk so that it seems that everyone is angry at everyone and willing to make them feel it.
An hour later, they’re patching themselves up with the school nurse’s first aid kits and waiting for the principal to finally get to their class with his angry dismissal. Ryu’s scared - what now? There was an ambulance that took the teacher and a few of their classmates away for further health care, which can’t really be good. Because of Hayato, they might all get suspended or expelled. If they do, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. Even now, the mere idea of going home to his family is too frightening to even make him react anymore. He numbs himself as he waits for their verdict. Take’s eyes are bloodshot and he looks even worse than Ryu, if possible.
“He had it coming,” Hayato steams, his face swollen and violet from all the blows he’s received. Ryu can barely stand listening to his voice. “Fucking asshole. Walking around like he owns the place. Shit head.”
“Can you just shut up already?” Tsucchi thankfully snaps at him. Most of the class is glaring at Hayato angrily. He’s the one who got them into this mess. It’s much easier to push the blame on someone than take responsibility for one’s own actions.
They all get suspended for two weeks, no exceptions. After interviews where everyone keeps their lips sealed and refuses to speak against their classmates, the police guide them out of the school gates. Ryu doesn’t think he’s ever felt as empty and ashamed of himself as today.
They all go their own ways. None of them can stand each other’s faces as they head home. Ryu heads to the riverbank, unable to gather the courage to go home yet. His mobile phone buzzes insistently in his pocket, and he’s sure his father knows already, but he can’t bring himself to face him yet. Actually, he doesn’t even care that much anymore. He lies on the dead, prickling winter grass and watches his breaths coming out as white clouds.
He’s so exhausted. Sometimes he wishes it would all just end and he’d be put out of his misery.
--
“I’m disappointed in you, son,” his father declares. Ryu doesn’t look at him as he sits on his bed, legs outstretched before him in a lazy manner. His shoulders feel tense, though, and it doesn’t feel like he’s inhaling enough air in his lungs.
His father scoffs, displeased. It’s not like he wouldn’t know his new ways don’t sit well with his family. Sometimes he takes pleasure from mentally hitting his father, from the way his imaginary victim’s eyes widen in confusion and disbelief. He thinks about laughing hysterically and voicing out all the horrible things that venomously bubble underneath his skin.
He’s never going to do any of that, though. Not really.
“Do you have any idea what you did?” his father pries angrily. Broke the law, obviously, took part in a serious assault. He’s lucky if they won’t get a criminal record. It’s all his father thinks about. He doesn’t think about the reasons behind his abnormally violent behaviour - he only sees its consequences.
“I didn’t hit him,” he mumbles truthfully and rests his head against the wall.
“Oh really?” his father scoffs.
“Really,” Ryu answers. Whether he actually did it or not doesn’t matter - it’s obvious he was involved in the brawl. He’s not going to play the victim either. He doesn’t really care who hit him or whom he might’ve hit. It’s all in the past already, there’s nothing he can do about it now.
“You’ve become reckless, Ryu,” his father criticises him harshly. “Look at me,” he demands and Ryu does, cocking his head as he glares up at face he hates the most in this world. “Do you have any idea how serious this is? Quit acting like you haven’t been brought up to be sensible.”
“Whatever,” he sighs and looks away, pulling his knees against his chest. His muscles clench painfully as he anticipates the forthcoming manhandling he’s practically begging for.
“What did you say?”
“I said whatever,” Ryu repeats with a stronger voice, louder. He feels his mouth twitching into a bitter chuckle. “I don’t really care.” There’s not much he cares about nowadays. His life doesn’t have a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s always like this, has always been.
He doesn’t know who he is. Maybe that’s why it’s so ridiculous that he just really wants to be himself.
“Show some respect, son,” his father demands from him furiously. Ryu presses his lips together, feeling defiant. He doesn’t dare to move from his bed because he’s got this horrible feeling that if he moves, he’s going to aggravate his father by stepping over the line.
“So what are you going to do now?” his father inquires. “You’re grounded. You aren’t leaving this house, Ryu, you’ll spend your suspension studying. Your mother will be watching after you. Don’t you dare act rebellious and disobedient now.”
“It’s pointless,” Ryu lets out a hollow, joyless laughter and lies down on his bed. His father’s eyes flash and he pulls him up to his feet. Ryu’s heart hammers. He knows this scene. He removes his father’s grasp with a harsh jerk and glares at him defiantly.
“You’ll do as I say,” his father tries but Ryu rolls his eyes and walks past him towards the door of his room. He’s yanked back harshly and then he sees red and hits his father. He’s never done it before, unleashed that beast inside of him between these walls, but now he finds himself unable to control it.
When did violence become such an addiction to him?
His father grabs his arms and keeps him still. Ryu roars obscenities, but he takes no pleasure from any of it. He’s only worsening his condition with every struggling movement and outraged word, because none of it helps and he feels so scared and anxious from fighting his father like this that he’s kind of afraid he’ll die right here and now. His father is roaring back at him but he isn’t listening, can’t listen as he just tries to get away from the tight grip that’s going to lock him here again.
He can’t stay here. Just can’t. The mere idea of staying here yet again is almost making him hyperventilate. Everything is blurry and painful and he can’t take any of this.
He breaks free, grabs his jacket from the floor and dashes out to the balcony where he heaves himself over the fence. His father roars at him and he flinches from pain, limping half the way towards the front gate before the adrenaline clouds over the pain and he follows his instinct to just get away, hide and survive.
It takes him ages to notice that it’s raining. His hair glues itself to his skin and it feels uncomfortable and icy against his skin, like tiny blades attempting to rupture him open. It’s already dark outside and the people who are defying time and weather are pushing past each other with colourful umbrellas that drip water on Ryu’s already soaked shoulders. He wanders aimlessly, too scared to go back home but with no idea where else to take cover.
He’s so tired he’s not sure if he can take it anymore. He’s left his school bag in his room, not that there’d be much use for it tomorrow, but at least he’s wearing his uniform trousers and jacket. He hopes to god it’ll stop raining soon and that he’ll be able to find somewhere isolated to rest before school. For now, his small hopes seem a bit futile.
“Ryu?”
He turns around, soaked all the way through his clothes. Hayato has an umbrella to cover him as he jogs his way over, face twisted in worry. When he detects the bruises, disappointment flashes through his eyes. It makes Ryu feel nauseous.
“Why is it I always find you bruised and cold? You’re like an ice stick,” Hayato groans as he covers him with his umbrella. Ryu sniffs thanks to the cold and starts walking ahead, but Hayato follows him determinately. He’s loyal, he’s got so many qualities Ryu would never have imagined before he actually got to know him. He isn’t sure if he likes it, though. Not at this moment.
“Go away.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Hayato snarls, starting to grow annoyed. Ryu shoves him and glares at him furiously, his heart hammering. He just can’t take the man’s presence right now. He needs solitude, it’s the only thing that still keeps him together. “What the hell, Ryu!”
“Leave me alone,” Ryu insists coldly as he turns his head away and starts walking. He doesn’t have anywhere to go and he knows he has to return home eventually, so he at least wants to walk off some of the difficult feelings before that, so that he can keep his face and pride when he comes back home. He isn’t going to give his father the pleasure of breaking him. No way in hell he will.
After Hayato manages to shake himself out of the dumbfounded stillness, he jogs his way back to Ryu’s side. Ryu’s aware of his state, the mix of emotions on his face varying from anger and bitterness to helpless sorrow. Hayato grabs him by his biceps and twists him around to face him. Ryu refuses to raise his gaze from Hayato’s neck.
“Look, I don’t know what happened,” Hayato starts his speech with a trembling voice, “but you’re soaked through, and there’s obviously something wrong. …Come to my place?” he suggests with a nervous but soft mumble. The grip of his fingers loosens ever so slightly. “I’ll get you some dry clothes and blankets. And tea. It’s okay, just come. I insist.”
He’s never been to Hayato’s home - he doesn’t know if anyone has. He looks up at him, eyes narrowed in disbelief. But he’s so cold. It’s regrettable that Hayato always seems to find him like this. So embarrassing.
Hayato doesn’t wait for his answer - maybe he knows it isn’t coming at all. Instead, he firmly takes a hold of Ryu’s wet arm and starts pulling him along. Ryu follows him with as much dignity as he can behold with his stiff limbs shaking from the cold. He grits his teeth together to keep them from clattering.
The walk is long. They’ve left the better part of the city and somehow found their way to the poorer area, which doesn’t entirely surprise Ryu. Somehow it all suits Hayato, the dark streets and shady people giving them glares from the other side of the road. There’s a tiny, cramped convenience store on their side of the road with only two rows filled with household necessities. Its windows shine a gloomy, white, fluorescent light over them as they pass it by. Ryu’s never been to a store like that in his life.
When Hayato finally stops, they’re standing in front of a dirty, three story tall block building. The doorbell buttons look worn and greasy but Hayato ignores them as he pulls out his keys from his pocket and opens the door before insistently pushing Ryu in. It’s a bit spooky, a place like this, and the lights flicker as they turn on when they step inside. Hayato refuses to take the lift (“It’s a bit… shaky”, he claims, but Ryu’s quite sure it’s got something to do with Hayato’s obvious fear of the supernatural), so they climb up the steps to the third floor.
The black door which has a nametag ‘Yabuki’ has some of its paint chipped off. Ryu is shivering uncontrollably as he stands behind Hayato, waiting as the boy unlocks the door and opens it warily while peeking in. There’s a sound of TV, some late-night quiz show, Ryu thinks, as Hayato motions him to follow as he slips inside and removes his shoes messily at the entrance.
“Where have you been?” a strict voice calls out and Hayato grimaces. Ryu stares at the man who appears from behind the corner. He’s attempting to dry a glass with a moist cloth as he peers at the two of them angrily. Hayato’s father, Ryu assumes, as he slowly strips his shoes off. Hayato cocks his head defiantly and exposes his teeth.
“Out,” he answers curtly. “Make way, Ryu’s cold.”
Ryu bows his head politely - he feels guilty if he doesn’t show some good manners when meeting older people. He can’t shake off the way he’s been brought up but Hayato pays no heed to it as he grabs him by his bicep again and leads him across the apartment, past a younger child who’s peering at them curiously from the couch, and all the way to the bathroom. Ryu sniffs anxiously as Hayato throws him a clean towel and rushes off to find some clean clothes.
He strips his clothes off nervously, listening to the arguing noises coming from outside the room. He doesn’t really know where to put his clothes so he folds them. He shivers in the towel for a few minutes before Hayato returns, red-faced and clearly pissed off, and throws him a pair of college pants, woollen socks and a baggy, hooded college shirt. Hayato hangs his clothes to dry on the metallic bar reserved for the shower curtain while Ryu slowly dresses himself, hands so shaky and fingers so numb that the simple task turns out to be a major challenge, but he refuses to ask for help. After he’s finally done, the clothes feel incredibly soft and thick against his skin in a very unnatural way, and Hayato looks soft and worried as he takes his hand and starts leading him out of the bathroom.
Hayato’s fingers are so warm compared to his; they feel hot against his skin.
He sees Hayato’s father’s back as the man slouches around the tiny kitchen area before Hayato pushes him through another doorframe to a room with a wardrobe, two futons and barely any room for walking. He’s shoved on the one furthest from the door and Hayato wraps the thick blanket tightly around his body, even if he tries to struggle against his friend’s advances. Hayato pouts and ruffles his hair before he sighs deeply. “They’re making tea for you,” he informs with a quiet mumble. “Dad says you can stay for the night. If you want to.”
It’s such a nice gesture. Ryu sniffs from the cold and pulls his knees against his chest. He’s still cold and the warmth just isn’t coming to him even after all of Hayato’s kind attempts. He doesn’t know if he should stay or go home. It wouldn’t be the first night he wouldn’t come home, but…
Hayato sighs loudly and crashes to sit down beside him. He leans against his knees, somewhat ahead of Ryu so that he can’t see his face. It’s probably kind of tough for him too - he can tell that Hayato is a bit of a softie under the tough surface, but neither of them is really accustomed to talking about sensitive, personal stuff. It makes the situation painfully awkward.
“If you’ve got trouble with some people, tell me, won’t you?” Hayato speaks with a firm tone, his head tilted away from Ryu. There’s this incredible distance between them even though Hayato is right there and it’s so absurd and odd that Ryu doesn’t know what to think of it. “I’m serious. You can rely on us. We’ll help you deal with them. It’s… I mean, if your pride is making you keep it a secret it’s a bit… It’s just stupid.”
“You wouldn’t be able to help me anyway,” Ryu objects right away, because that’s how things are. Would he be in trouble with some normal punks… yeah, maybe things would be a bit different. He doesn’t know if he would rely on his friends with that either, but… About this, his real problem… no one can help him.
“I want to protect you,” Hayato scoffs angrily. “Stop making me say sappy stuff, it makes me feel stupid.”
It’s not like Ryu forced him to. He sneezes and Hayato turns his head around to face him worriedly.
…This doesn’t suit them at all.
“Talk to me, Ryu,” Hayato insists, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. He looks genuinely pained and troubled by Ryu’s poor condition. “We’re friends. We’re supposed to be open and stuff.”
Ryu snorts, feeling unconvinced. In his life things have never been so stereotypically simple. Talking is so foolish. Somehow it hurts more if someone knows. Maybe it’s because of the disappointment, because there is nothing to accomplish by sharing his hardships. No one can help him anyway, not in the slightest.
“Ryu.”
His friend’s voice is a silent croak, so desperate. Ryu looks at him with hollow eyes, feeling the black hole gently spiralling inside of him. He has no idea what he’s made of at all.
He draws in a shaky breath and lets his gaze avert and focus on the stupid, silly green striped woollen socks he’s wearing. He curls his toes and tilts his head miserably, feeling withdrawn. He’s safe here, in his own solitary cocoon. And somehow this place, too, feels a bit like a safety haven.
“It’s my father,” he admits, lips ever so slightly pursed, but it’s embarrassingly audible in his muffled voice. He doesn’t see Hayato’s face. His friend doesn’t even flinch. Ryu sniffs from the cold and rests his chin between his knees. He feels shaky all over. “He…”
The words don’t come out. He’s never talked about it, never thought of talking about it. Still, somehow weirdly, Hayato seems to understand as he shuffles closer, their sides brushing through the thick layers of fabric, and the boy wraps his arm around Ryu’s shoulder for support. Ryu holds back his tears, but can’t help the pained grimace. He feels more of himself shattering, coming loose and spiralling away.
“I understand,” Hayato tells him softly, peering down at him. “Alright then.”
Hayato’s brother, Taku, brings him tea but Hayato’s father doesn’t show himself again during the night. After Ryu’s finished his cup and warmed down at least a little, Hayato crawls under the blanket with him and pulls him close to share his body heat. Taku joins in later, on his own futon across from them, and the lights are turned off. Ryu feels his insomnia acting up and keeping him awake even though he’s so tired against Hayato’s chest.
Sometimes later, after soft, deep breathing comes from behind Ryu, Hayato’s forehead bumps against his. It makes his mouth go dry and muscles stiffen in dreadful anticipation. He hopes that’s it, that nothing else will happen. His body quivers helplessly as he waits, doesn’t budge, doesn’t dare to allow himself to even hope. He can’t handle this. Not now.
Hayato’s soft lips press against his, warm and yielding. Ryu’s eyelids slide shut and his heart hammers anxiously as he feels Hayato’s arms clumsily snaking around him. He lets out a shaky exhale and sinks into the feeling of slight, moist suction and then there’s the tip of Hayato’s tongue, hesitant against his lower lip.
He can’t do this. His entire life crumbles down, all the years of fear and endurance, as he presses against Hayato’s lips. He opens his mouth desperately and deepens the kiss that renders them breathless, lets the darkness within him take over as he kisses the boy over and over again until Hayato rolls over him, traps his wrists beside his head and breathes heavily against his face in the darkness where he’s only a silhouette to Ryu.
“Don’t do it,” he gasps quietly with a shaky voice. He would, he knows. He would do it if Hayato would. He wonders where his fences are, the ones that keep him intact. He’s unable to listen to the voice of reason in his head which is spitting gruesome words at him with his father’s voice.
Hayato hesitates over him, glances at Taku’s bed quietly as Ryu feels himself sinking away. Then he sighs and collapses back to his spot beside Ryu, his breathing heavy and agitated. Ryu fights to regain control.
Then the silhouette beside him turns around and the moment is gone. Ryu wonders in horror if there’s a way back after crossing the line he’s avoided for too many years.
--
“Are you coming with us, Ryu?!” Hyuuga enquires him, his face lightened up by excitement. Ryu stands still, his expression stern as he tells himself that really, it’s nothing. It’s not that big of a surprise, and he shouldn’t be offended either. It was just a mistake.
“Girls, Ryu!” Take sighs dreamily, his eyelids half closed and eyes hazy. “Real girls…”
“Boobs!” Hayato cheers and makes a high five with Tsucchi who looks just as excited. Something clenches Ryu’s stomach and he feels awfully breathless and weak. He cocks his head in wonder while his friends peer at him expectably. …He doesn’t want this.
“I’ll pass,” he says and ignores the loud choir of disbelieving cries. “I don’t really care,” he continues with a low mutter and continues walking towards the school. He’s going to get over this. Why it is so hard, he doesn’t really know - probably because of the kiss.
Hayato is attending the group date. He’s back to his usual self. Whatever his failure in judgement with Ryu had been, now it’s clearly been pushed in the past like it should, which is alright. He wouldn’t have pursued it anyway, so it’s alright that Hayato runs wild and charms everyone that comes his way. If he ever succeeds in it.
“’I’ll… pass!’” someone mockingly imitates him from behind and the whole group breaks into wheezy laughter. Ryu rolls his eyes. He’s never going to live this one down, is he?
--
--> part 3/4