#first of all no it's not i will refer you to the years ive spent insomniac in the winter because no matter how i huddled i could not feel m

[bitegore]

is there like a curse you get put under when you decide that you like cold weather better than hot weather to never ever shut the fuck up when someone expresses a different opinion on the subject, or is that just a choice you are all making

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. ��A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[prettyboykatsuki]

WON'T YOU LEND ME YOUR FAITH? | R. ITOSHI

❁ tags ; fem!reader (reader dresses femininely + is referred to as a girl / with she/her pronouns), reader is shorter than rin , strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, rin is soo teenage boy (and makes some annoying teen-boy comments), slow-burn, making out is as suggestive as this gets, stereotypical shoujo romance, usage of honorifics, coming of age

❁ wc ; 21.4k (insane. most insane thing ive ever seen)

❁ a/n ; i'm genuinely appalled by the length of this fic. how did that happen. what in the world. this fic is truly just. every single shoujou manga trope crammed into one okay. my silly little self indulgent romance !!!!

also this fic is sfw + takes place in their third of hs so im not gonna say mdni that's silly. however if you're a minor please do not follow me i post heinous dark content and this fic is a fluke in the timeline dskffjkfd

❁ synopsis ; the love story of a sensitive, stoic soccer player and an eccentric wannabe journalist

or that time you confess to itoshi rin, knowing he'll reject you, and asking to befriend him in spite of it.

“I like you,” 

A breeze of wind passes.

“What?” 

You confess to Itoshi Rin at the start of the Spring semester. On the school rooftop with your head down. Bent at a near ninety degrees as you hold out what looks like a love letter.

For a minute, he can’t do anything more than stare. He’s received countless confessions in highschool. Half of which he rejected immediately, not even stopping to hear the full extent of their feelings. Why would he? The lukewarm ideas of first love had never been of interest. Even before his fight with Sae, Rin was always focused on his goals. 

After his second year of high school was spent in Bluelock, Rin has only returned for his third. He promised his parents he’d graduate properly, and Bluelock was off-season until Ego could fully prepare for the next stages. 

And a lot has changed since then. But some parts of him, namely his feelings towards the idea of conventional relationships, haven't changed at all. 

It’s only been a little less than three weeks since school had started, and by now he’s received more confessions than he can really remember. All of which he’s rejected coldly, and blankly, because Itoshi Rin has never been in the business of coddling anyone. Most of those girls he’s never even met. Knows nothing about them because they’re first or second years he’d never even spoken to. 

Rin, however, does know you. You’ve been in his class in all 3 years of his highschool, and he’s seen you around more than once. You’re in the newspaper club, which he remembers because you covered their winning match back when Rin was a first year. He wouldn’t call you friends, but you’ve spoken to each other enough that he can remember your name with a little effort. 

He also  remembers you being sort of annoying. You’re one of those loud and earnest types that he can’t stand. 

A year ago, Rin would’ve denied knowing you at all. But now that things with Sae have cleared up just a little - he’s not inclined to take his anger out on you. He knows you. Not well, but enough.

And if his reputation precedes him at all, then you know Rin too. You know that he’s never once gone out with a single girl in his 3 years of highschool and that most of the guys in all three grades consider him an arrogant jerk. You know that he mostly plays soccer alone during breaks and that he only really hangs out with one person. 

Which means you must know that he doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. And that he’s going to reject your confession without thinking twice about it. 

In the first place, he was just curious if you were stupid enough to do it. If you really called him up here for a roof-top confession. The fact that you were is what’s stifling him. Your words are familiar. He’s heard them so many times. But it’s baffling. It’s ridiculous. 

You lift your head to face him. You’re still smiling, though there’s something more there that he can’t understand. He doesn’t do well with people like you begin with. He finds himself backing away when you jog up closer towards him. 

He’s taller than you, he notices. You pick your head up to look at him and smile, toothy and at ease. You hold the letter up again and shove it towards him, though you don’t seem like you’re expecting him to take it. He stares at you. 

“I like you,” You repeat, smooth and bubbly. He frowns. 

“I don’t like you.” 

He has expectations for this part. Normally he receives a saddened look like a dog whose tail he stepped on or a fit of crying (sometimes genuine, sometimes with the intent of guilt.) Sometimes he gets an awkward smile trying to seem unbothered by the whole situation. 

You don’t falter though. You don’t even flinch at the words, cold as ice and steely. It throws him off. 

“I know,” You say back,  prying the letter away from him. You turn the other way, walking towards the metal grates and for a minute Rin wonders if you’re going to do something drastic. You don’t though, instead sticking your the paper in the air “That’s why I have a proposal,” 

He stares, absolutely dumbfounded. You turn again towards him. 

“I want to get to know you. And keep confessing to you,” You say first, and Rin immediately goes to reject you until you put your hands up “And I want you to keep rejecting me.” 

He’s baffled. Really. 

“What?” 

“So I can gradually lose my feelings for you. Nothing that different on your end, honestly..” 

It sounds annoying. It really does. If it were anyone else, under any other circumstance he would scoff and tell them to deal with their own shitty feelings alone just like everyone else. But there’s no hidden intention there. Rin’s always been good at sniffing that out. Your words are pure as can be.

Frustratingly simple and twice as sincere, no matter how confusing the whole thing is. 

“Why should I?” 

“We can be friends,” You reply like it’s the best deal he could ask for. “Isn’t that enough? Not like you really have any right now.” 

He scoffs bitterly albeit he can’t counter you. 

“Friendship is lukewarm. I don’t care about any of that stuff,” 

“Lukewarm? Really? Then..think of it like I’ll be your shield. You hate when people socialize with you right? I’ll help you deal with it.” 

That doesn’t sound too bad actually. On top of that, he’s kind of curious what your deal is. He rolls his eyes at you, turning to face the other way. 

“Do whatever you want. It’s not like it matters.” 

His response makes you beam. He hears you shout from the otherside of the yard, followed by the sound of your footsteps noisily thudding against the concrete as you try to catch up with him. He walks faster than you just to spite you for earlier, but he hears your last words through a huff of breath. 

“Jeez, you’re fast. I’ll see you at lunch, be prepared!” 

Somehow, he feels like he’s crossed paths with something he shouldn’t’ve. 

__

You keep up with your end of the deal with Rin to the best of your ability. 

The upsides of your arrangement is that the usual annoyances Rin has to deal with have decreased significantly in the time you’ve been hanging around him. You’re very good at using your speech to sway conversations one way or the other without upsetting the other party.

Normally, Rin’s rejections for different things leave a bitter taste in the air. He’s never been good at mincing his words for anyone and while it doesn’t affect him - the strange stares and whispers he gets are a little annoying to deal with. People always take his disinterest personally. Rin has always hated that. He was probably a little gentler about the denial before but still. 

While other people are too stupid to pay it any mind, you’re clever at turning the tides your way. You always manage to completely divert their questions without making them feel uncomfortable. Rin has tried, many times, to actually break down how you’re doing it. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to replicate it, no matter how much he studies you. 

He’s reluctant to admit it, but really, your presence has significantly lowered the number of obstacles in his daily life and made him overall, less irritable. 

Instead of many annoying things, there’s only you. Which is tolerable in comparison. 

You also expect him to uphold his end of the deal. For the most part, this has just meant you inserting yourself into his usual activities. It started out small enough, mostly just you sitting with him during lunch. It draws too much attention to eat in the classroom so you both fuck off to the roof. 

(You often joke about how romantic it is, reminiscing on your rejected first love with as much melodrama as you can muster. 

Rin never laughs about it to your face, but he admits it’s funny. Your stupidity is mildly amusing, at least ) 

There, you eat lunch together. Rin learns you make yourself colorful bentos from time to time- though some days are much less elaborate than others. You like to unwind that way, your designated and nightly me-time. You work part-time, and you take care of your neighbors kids by helping them every morning and night. 

Rin doesn’t ask you for more, not willing to deliberately show interest. 

But you notice his curiosity for better or for worse and explain that she, the woman next door, used to make you dinner back when your parents were too busy. You have an older brother who's nearly twelve years your senior so you were alone for most of your childhood. She had children late, but they feel like your little siblings. So you help them in the mornings and in the evenings when you have time. 

Rin learns you, funnily enough, have a sense of obligation towards other people that he can’t fully comprehend. He forgot there were people like that. In an environment like Bluelock that is so dead set on fostering ego, it’s easy to forget something so simple. 

You haven’t confessed to him again since that time. Not like he’s expecting it, but given your personality he wonders why. He thought it’d be more of a daily occurence, something like a bit you did. But you never do. Even when at times, it’s so heavy in the atmosphere even he can tell you want too. 

Admittedly, Rin wonders a lot more about you than he cares to. He wonders why you spend so much time with him when you have plenty of other friends who seem to cherish you. He wonders why you care so much about the dying club you're in. He wonders if this, in some strange way, stems from some kind of obligation.

He wonders, sometimes, what about him you could even like. It’s probably something stupid. You’d probably think long and hard before going on to say that you like him because he’s handsome or cool. Something shallow and meaningless. 

He tells himself that when he starts thinking about it again. 

__

Rin gets roped into cleaning the classroom with you. 

He’s used to being paired with other people. But he’s never had to do with you before, even in the years prior. Or maybe he did. He doesn’t recall much of his first year. 

Still, now that it’s already mid-May, Rin has never been on cleaning duty with you. He’s conscious of the sound of your name these days. It’s not something he’s happy about. 

It’s a simple affair. Just 15 or 20 minutes. Nothing to talk about. Not really. 

But, today you’re alone with him. Alone in an empty classroom with light pouring through the windows and reflecting off of the wooden desks. You’re busying yourself with wiping down the chalkboard, humming quietly. Rin has the broom and dust pan, slowly working himself towards the front of the room. 

It’s mostly quiet. Just your humming. The soft thud of a dust pan, a gentle brush of the bristle. 

Rin feels a crick in his neck, half-way done with the task at hand. He stares at you, off in the front. In your own little world as you fix everything up diligently without turning your head to look up at him even once. 

The nape of your neck is visible from the way you’re standing. There’s a chain there. Do you wear a necklace under your uniform? He can see the slope of your shoulders. The light reflects on you. 

It stops him dead in his tracks. All he can hear is the quiet. The soft humming of your voice. The thud of the dust pan, the woosh of an eraser. The gentle bristle of a broom. The sound of his own heartbeat, a little louder than it was a minute ago. 

He shakes his head. He goes back to sweeping. 

__

“Why do you look like that?” 

You look depressed. For Rin, this expression on you is unusual. You do look sad sometimes.  Somber, occasionally but the look you have on your face right now is down right harrowing. You’re staring blankly out into the open, sitting in the usual spot the two of you have lunch at. But you’ve hardly touched your food and your favorite juicebox (a lunchtime staple) doesn’t have a straw in it yet. 

It’s freaking him out, quite frankly. He stares at you, waving a hand in front of your face until you click back into reality. You jump in your skin at the sight of him before taking a deep breath once you’ve realized who’s in front of you. 

“Oh. It’s just you. Sorry,” You say, immediately going for your juice. See? “What did you say?” 

He sighs, sitting down next to you with his own lunch. Nothing special, something his mom likes to pack when he’s at home - though he doesn’t often take it. He opens up his own tin, taking chopsticks out attached from the top. 

“I asked why you looked like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like someone just died.” 

You look at him morbidly, clasping your hands and leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. 

“My midterm grades,” You say solemnly, voice wavering ever so slightly “They’re detestable. A shame to my bloodline.” 

Rin looks at you plainly. 

“Aren’t you an idiot to begin with?” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m average. Super average. But I scored even lower than usual and I’m concerned. I need to do well on the next one and on my entrance exams.” 

Oh, right. Rin forgot since he has no plans to take any. 

“Do you know what you want to do for college?” He asks, mostly out of obligation. 

“I want to study journalism.” There’s a wispiness to your way of speaking. It gives the air a sentimental feel. “There’s a private university with a good program I want to get into but they’re kind of tough. So I have to focus and do well,” 

“What subject are you struggling with?” 

You deflate all over again. 

“Chemistry and Classical Japanese,” 

Rin does well in both subjects. He thinks it over, and decides he can consider this payback. That’s all it is. He’s never liked owing people for favors and while you say this much is enough - Rin can rest assured about your little deal if he’s actually been of use to you in return. He remains impassive as he takes a sip of water. 

“Do you want me to help you study?” 

You turn to him immediately, suddenly full of life. He doesn’t like the gleam in your eyes, an immediate regret settling in as he stares at you, eyes full of disdain. You don’t hesitate grabbing his hand, putting it to your forehead and bowing deeply as you face him. You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing around him. 

“Are you serious? Really? Forreal? Do you mean it?” 

“If you keep being  a dipshit I’m going to take it back,” 

You pull away, hands folded in your lap, going stone faced.

“I would be very grateful,” You say, hands clasped in front of your face. He rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He says bluntly, staring out into space “I just don’t want to owe you any favors.” 

This you laugh at, leaning back on the wall behind you - with your legs stretched out. 

“Don’t worry,” You reply, self-assured. “Somehow, you asking me to study with you so innocently really cements it in that you don’t have a shred of affection for me.” 

Something in him stirs. He ignores it. 

“Never in a million years.” 

You laugh light-heartedly. 

“You’re so cold to me, Itoshi-kun.” 

“You still call me that.” He grimaces. You stare at him confused. 

“How else would I call you?” 

“When you use my last name it reminds me of my brother,” 

“...Are you implying I should use your first name?” 

Oh. Shit. That is what he sort of said, isn’t it? 

“No,” He denies, somehow unable to come up with anything worthwhile “Don’t address me at all.” 

“Eh? But that’s impossible? I can try but,” 

Only an idiot like you would think to actually try. He shakes his head. It’s no good after all. 

“Shut up,” He decides, because there’s not anything else he can think to say “We can study at the library.” 

You’re quick to reject the proposal. 

“We have to pick somewhere else. Like a cafe or something,” You say, not looking at him. You have your phone pulled up now, looking for places nearby. He’s lost again. 

“What? Why? Isn’t it easier if it’s at school?” 

You glance over at him wide-eyed, before suddenly smiling. It’s a knowing smile, almost like you feel sorry for him. He wants to ask why you look like that. It’s weirdly guarded and he hates that from you. He stares at you, trying to will you to explain yourself. You’re good at reading his thoughts, frustratingly enough, so he’s not accustomed to asking. 

Which means your lack of answer is deliberate, and even with the pressure he’s putting on you, you don’t budge.

“Trust me on this one,” You voice light and airy. “It’s better if we find somewhere away from school, too. There’s still some time to look, so no rush.” 

He lets it go because he doesn’t have any other choice. Lunch passes and you talk like everything's normal.

The question lingers in the back of his mind. 

__ 

Rin spends most of his time between classes watching soccer. If he has some free time on his day off, he’ll look for a new movie to watch. There’s a new foreign film coming out from a director who he really likes and he’s just finished watching the trailer.

Thirsty, with nothing to do - he stands to his feet and briefly surveys the classroom. He wants a drink and there’s a vending machine down the hallway with a sports drink that tastes like..something. 

His airpods are close to being dead so there’s no music as he makes his way. He’s not a fan of being forced to listen to the chatter of the general populace so it’s not that hard to ignore.  

It catches his attention when he hears your name in passing before turning the corner of the hall. It stops him dead in his tracks, something tense left in the syllables after . He doesn’t know why he stopped, not exactly. He figured it’d be annoying if his presence caused a ruckus. 

He’s used to people talking about you, though they usually describe you as a busybody. The Senpai who’s everywhere. A hand in every jar, or something like that. But there’s a tone to that, mild amusement - never malice, that Rin is more than accustomed to. 

This is not that, he notices. He leans on the wall and listens. A group of girls. Some of the voices he recognizes. They’re from the third year classroom down the hall. 

“It’s like, I don’t know,”  Eto-san, he thinks. She’s come up to him before, more times than he can really count on one hand. Rin knows the type. Kind but not really. To the point it’s hard for anyone to call her out on it. “It’s weird how much she hangs around him. She’s not a bad girl or anything,” 

The addition makes Rin’s eye twitch. Yeah. He’s very familiar with this type. He keeps listening. Another voice, but he has no idea who this one is. 

“Really? But Senpai is pretty kind to me,” 

“Mm, I guess so. I just wonder if it makes Itoshi-kun uncomfortable, you know? With pushy people like that, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are. I just worry about him a bit.” 

If it wasn’t so annoying to listen in, Rin would laugh. He’s never understood girls. Especially not highschool ones. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of social hierarchical shit to begin with, only forced to acknowledge it because other people do. None of it matters to him.

He does think back to what you said a week ago, about finding a place away from school to study. It clicks. You probably know they talk about you like this. Or you could surmise this outcome. Rin should expect that level of awareness from you. Sincere. Always attuned to everyone. Of course this is something you know but he doesn’t. 

Why didn’t you tell him? That’s annoying. It’s nothing he couldn’t deal with knowing. He would’ve got it if you explained it earlier. 

“Oh wow, you really care about him Eto-san,” 

There’s a soft chuckle that makes Rin annoyed. Is he supposed to feel grateful? They’ve barely spoken to each other.

“It’s not like that. It must be hard since he missed second year, that’s all.” 

With that, Rin decides to turn the corner. 

He’s a little pleased at the reaction. How everyone goes into complete silence when he arrives. He spares her a glance as he moves towards the vending machines, clicking in the buttons. A generic sports drink comes tumbling out of the bottom, and Rin grabs it with deliberate slowness - drawing out the unease. 

Eto-san gives him a blank stare before suddenly looking cheerful. She seems a little panicked, quickly trying to make conversation with him. The words don’t reach his ears as he stares down at her expressionlessly.

“Are you done?”  He says, ice-cold. She stutters at that. Rin suppresses a smile. 

“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry, were you busy?” 

“Yeah,” He says back, completely apathetic. 

He doesn’t plan on saying anymore in the first place. The little victories count. 

It does feel like some kind of magic when he hears your voice from the other end of the hallway. You’re practically shouting it, and following is the sound of the hall monitors telling you off for running as you barrel toward him full speed. He can hear the thud of your sneakers all the way till they skid to a stop. 

You’re out of breath, bent over your knees and messy as you put a hand up. Most times, he would be embarrassed. He’d even tell you off for being such an idiot. Right now, he finds the corners of his lips upturned as he stares at you from where you stand. 

“Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I had some business with this guy. Oh, Fujita-chan, your hair is cute today! I like how it looks up on you,”  You say, to the girl who was calling you kind just a minute ago “I hope he wasn’t too cruel to you. He’s actually afraid of women, it’s a generational curse. Every night he turns into a frog and—” 

You shuffle in front him, arms stretched out like a shield. He sticks his leg out and kicks your shin. You yelp in pain. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Shut up.” 

“Ow, you strong bastard. You’re a soccer player, please be more conscious of your kicks. What if you shattered my shin? I know you’re loaded but it’s the principle of the thing, you know—” 

“Stop talking or I’ll kick you a second time.” 

You go silent immediately. 

“Forgive me, Itoshi-sama. I’ve strayed from the path of righteousness. Alas, the people need you.” You say, turning around. 

“Speak clearly.” 

“Homeroom teacher wanted to double check with you about after graduation plans and told me to go get you.” 

“Why you?”

“I was already walking around for the newspaper club.” 

He nods, not needing any more explanation. 

“H-hey, aren’t you acting too friendly with him?” 

So she decided to speak. This makes you falter, just a little, and Rin detests the look of self-satisfaction on her face. He speaks this time. It’s not like he can’t fight any of his own battles. 

“It’s fine,” He says, not bothering to think about it. He looks at you, as you stare back at him where he stands, wide-eyed. Idiot. “I don’t mind.”

You grin at him. Big and rounded and stupid, with all of your teeth like you’re giddy. If the hallway monitor wasn’t up your ass, he figures you’d be skipping about now. You usher him into the hall, back where he came from, waving them off.

“Be seeing you guys, then! Bye!” 

And you’re off. It’s quiet until you’re both completely out of ear-shot. Before he can go any further you stand in front of him, hands behind your back with a dumb look on your face. He already knows what you’re going to say. 

“Hey. I really like you a lot. Just now… my heart was fluttering. I thought I was hallucinating,” 

“You’re a moron,” 

“Ahhh, what should I do? I’m all hot under the collar. Is this what it’s like being a maiden in love? It’s great.” 

“How can you say that knowing I’ve already rejected you?” 

“It’s because you’ve rejected me, I can say that.” 

And Rin doesn't really get it. He’s not sure he ever will. 

But you seem happy enough. He decides against prying. 

__

Somehow, you’ve ended up at Rin’s house. 

He doesn’t know how it happened. Really. 

He mentioned to his mother off-handedly that he needed to help someone study. He should’ve lied about it then, but coming off of running drills makes him pretty stupid. He uses most of his brain power when he trains. So in an altered state of mind due to dehydration, hunger and general exhaustion - he answered  honestly instead of lying. 

You’re helping someone study? Yes, they’re from my class. 

Is it a boy or a girl? A girl. We’re friends. 

You can’t study at the library? She doesn’t want to, so we’re trying to find somewhere else. 

Why not invite her here, if her parents are okay with it? Her parent’s don’t really pay enough attention to be bothered. 

Wait, what is he saying? 

Rin doesn’t know how it happened. Really. Really. He tried pretty hard to reject his mothers advances about the situation but he’s never been one to upset her. The whole thing with Sae really tore her up so they both had a silent agreement to try and get along at home. And since Rin is still living at home for now, he tries harder to listen to her. Even so, he wasn’t planning on yielding for this one. 

Rin is not immune to his mothers guilt. A long lecture about how her only sons never cared about anything but soccer and how she’s worried she’s never going to have grandchildren later, he finally gave in and gave you a call at his dinner table. 

He was hoping you would come through and reject the offer. Say something stupid about how that’s dangerous territory for a young girl in love and let his mom down gently. He forgot about your whole thing about responsibility and being a nice girl who gets along well with adults. 

And now, the door is ringing and Rin knows he’s going to open it to you. He mostly blames himself for not thinking ahead.

Rin opens the door on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing he thinks is that you’re not wearing your uniform. 

You look…different. It’s weird. Your hair is styled in an unusual way, tied with something like ribbon. You’re wearing something flowy and loose but the neck is a little rounder than usual. There’s a necklace there, a heart-pendant with a chain. You have in...earrings. 

Rin thinks vaguely that you look…something. He doesn’t know. But in his vision you’re like a troublesome and amorphous blob that yammers on about nothing. And right now you look…not like that. 

“You’re dressed up.” Are the first words to come out of his mouth. You blink at him owlishly.

“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to make a good impression on your mom so I tried not to look sloppy.” You say sheepishly. He leans against the doorframe. 

“She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 

“Well I do, okay? Now, can I come in?” 

“The white slippers are for you.”

He steps aside and lets you in. You have perfect manners. He probably should’ve expected that. You take your shoes off neatly and place them on the rack the same way, slipping your feet into the slippers provided. Rin just watches, eyes tracing the curve of your neck. 

“Where’s your mom?” You ask.

“In the kitchen making dinner. You’re staying for dinner right?” 

You blink at him, surprised. 

“I mean it’s not like I can’t.” 

“She’d be upset if you didn’t.” He says noncommittally before walking you down to the kitchen. 

His mother is right where he expects. He stands in the corner as you shuffle in watching on. She turns around to look at you, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Oh, my, you must be Rin’s friend? Such a lovely girl. Welcome! Welcome.” 

To this, you bow your head as deep as it can go. The air around you feels serious. Rin scoffs internally. There’s a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t describe, seeing you bowing in front of his mom. An itch he can’t reach, locked tight around his ribs. 

You give his mother your name first and she smiles like she’s absolutely delighted just hearing it. 

“Thank you for having me. I brought some fruit with me as a gift, I hope that’s alright.” 

His mom shoots him a look that Rin deflects by turning away, opening the plastic bag you’ve handed to her. 

“Oh my! Aren’t these expensive fruits? Please thank your parents for me!” 

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I work part-time, so I paid for them myself. It was the least I could do. I’m grateful for the tutoring.” 

You tense up, realizing that might’ve been an awkward thing to say. It isn’t. Even if it was, Rin’s mother has always been soft-hearted. His dad tells him they’re a lot alike but Rin doesn’t see it. Whatever it may be, Rin’s mom is too doting and too sociable to let you feel bad. Right now she seems emotional, an expression between empathy and pride. She reaches for you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, patting your head gently.

“How diligent. Thank you, then, for the fruit.” 

Rin can’t see your face but it’s easy to picture. 

“Of course. And pardon the intrusion! And uhm, thank you for having me for dinner.” 

Clumsy. Rin thinks you’re clumsy. A flickering light. His mom laughs brightly and tells you not to worry. She leans in closer like she’s whispering but Rin can hear her loud and clear. 

“Rin can be very brash but he’s a good boy, so thank you for being kind to him.” 

He feels embarrassed. Even readies himself to intervene. 

“He is very kind to me.” 

Wait. What?

His mom smiles even brighter, and mouths something like ‘take care of her’ when you’re not looking. He wants to stop it before it starts. You’re not dating. You’re hardly even friends, you’re just here to study. Rin almost wants to shout it, but he’s stuck. Before he can do any of that, you’re turning around and smiling like you haven’t said anything strange. 

What do you mean he’s kind to you? When his whole thing is rejecting you mercilessly? Being cruel?

What kind of person would ever describe him as kind? 

He can’t find the words he wants to say, so he takes you to his room in silence. 

__

You both make it to Rin’s room in one piece.

You’ve been studying now for about an hour. Given your personality, Rin was expecting more of a fuss. He thought you’d make some comment about being in a boys room and then fight off the actual studying like the plague. 

Much to his surprise, you started studying with him right away. Rin tries his best to tutor you, though he does make fun of you in the process. But you’re a try-hard all the same, stopping only to ask questions and get clarification occasionally.

You’ve been focused that whole time, miraculously enough. Rin studies too, but only a bit, after deciding to study some recent matches instead. 

( Every now and again, he’ll glance at you. Just to see if you’re stuck or still working. Each time, he gets caught up on the fact you’re not in your uniform and has to tear his eyes away. ) 

After a bout of silence, you yawn out loud, quietly shutting your workbook. 

“I’ve finished all my practice problems for today,” You announce, before deciding to lay down on his floor “I’m beat.” 

“I thought you were gonna give up before you started.”  Rin admits. You frown at him. 

“I was serious about needing tutoring. Thanks for all your help.” 

“I already told you it’s fine. Is there anything else? Finals are next week.” 

You shake your head. 

“Mm, I don’t think so. One of the guys from the newspaper club helped me with math so I’ll be okay.” 

…Huh? 

“From the newspaper club?” 

“Huh? Yeah. Murata-senpai. We’re in the same year. He’s a few months older so he insists on making me call him Senpai.” 

“And he helped you with math?” 

“Yeah. He was a delinquent like, all of first year but he really cleaned up his act. He’s actually really gentle.”

Rin frowns at that. 

“Do people usually describe delinquents as gentle?”  

You make a noise of indignance from where you’re laid on his floor. 

“Hey. Murata-senpai is really nice, okay? And he is gentle, so I won’t tolerate your usual judginess.” 

Rin rolls his eyes. 

“How’d you even meet him?” 

“Uh…I wanted to write a column about him, basically. He was helping in the garden last year and I kinda…stalked him. It sounds worse than it is. I just wanted to know what made him change.” 

“So stalking people is pretty typical for you.” 

You sit up and gape at him. Rin suppresses a laugh. 

“Anyways. I eventually flagged him down for an interview. Apparently, he had a real scare with his granny getting sick and decided he needed to cut the shit. He’s a good guy. He joined the newspaper club after the interview,” 

“After the interview…?” 

You nod, leaning forward with your elbows on the table in front of you. 

“Uh-huh. Said he was interested because of my passion or something. He’s been really nice to me ever since and helps me with all of the ideas I have.” You soften as you talk about it. Rin feels an ugly emotion in his chest “I’m worried about what will happen to the club after graduation, but Senpai is always encouraging me to make the most out of the time we still have. So I’m really thankful for him. That’s why you have to be nice.” 

Rin is super annoyed. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed but he is. How do you not realize this guy likes you? He doesn’t know why he’s opening his mouth to tell you what’s so obvious. It’s not like it really matters. Rin doesn’t like you in the first place, so if he informs you that your beloved Murata-senpai has feelings for you - it’s no big deal. 

In fact it might be better for everyone if you realize. He’s just frustrated by how clueless you can be sometimes. 

“He’s interested in you,” Rin says, against his better judgment. It feels like the words are welling up in his throat “Your senpai or whatever.” 

You blink at him stupidly. He wonders if you’re wearing mascara. 

“Huh? I doubt that somehow. Senpai is kind to me but I think he sees me like a little sister.” 

He scoffs at you. 

“You would think that. Most guys aren’t just nice to girls they don’t like.” 

“Not everyone is like you, yanno.” You say back without thinking twice. That’s not the point this time, he wants to say. And he’s right for this one. Anyone else with half of a brain would realize. You’re just… you. Which means you’re absolutely unaware of things pertaining to you. It’s the only reason he can think you’d deny something so obvious. 

The only reason you could come to the house of a boy you liked just to study. 

“Shut up. I’m saying this because you’re too much of a dumbass to put it together on your own. The guy definitely likes you.” 

“I didn’t know you were a love guru,” You say sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Childish. Annoying “It doesn’t matter if he does.” 

“Why wouldn’t it matter?” 

You give him an incredulous look. 

“Unfortunately my heart is captured by an aloof sportsman.” 

He doesn’t know why he feels relieved when you say that. He feels his heart all the way in his throat like he’s going to throw it up, even though his expression remains impassive. 

“You already know I don’t like you, though. It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it? Don’t a lot of people move on that way.”

You shake your head. 

“I’m not that sort of wishy-washy woman.” You reply, huffing your chest up and trying to ease the tension. You stop to shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.” 

“It’s annoying when you do that,” Rin voices, not bothering to cut it any other way “You did that with the girls at school too. I’m never gonna get it if you don’t bother explaining it to me.” 

You soften at this, then whisper. 

“...Why do you care?” But it’s not said with any malice. It’s not said sadly either. Just curious. He freezes, but doesn’t let it show. He wants to ask himself the same question. 

“I don’t. It’s just,” And he scoffs, not looking at your face “It’s a pain.” 

You hum, not expecting more of an answer. 

“I want to treasure my own feelings towards you,” You say, and something in Rin feels like it’s being set on fire. “It’s not just about having a boyfriend. If it was, then I’d consider Senpai's feelings.” 

“...So it’s about me, specifically?” 

“Yeah,” You say without offering any more explanation than that “It is. I like you.”

The words but why, linger in the air. You seem to be feeling merciful, as you lean back on your palms and stare up at his ceiling. You wear your heart outside of your body, more often than not. And he thinks that part of you is so hard to get used to. 

“You’re really awkward. And aloof. And you don’t have any friends.” 

“Is this some kind of revenge or…?” 

“But. You’re also sensitive. The more I know you, the more I think you’re kind and well-meaning. You uh, remind me of a cat.” 

He blinks. 

“A cat?” 

“A cat. Sometimes they want their own space. And sometimes they knock your water off your desk for fun. Plus they only really care about people in their own circle,”

“Again, is this—” 

“Let me finish, jeez. They’re solitary creatures. But like when they accept you, they get comfortable. An’ nice . And they look out for you in their own way. To me you’re a lot like that.” 

You give him a smile so warm it makes his back hot. So loud and so vibrant like it burst out of him at any minute. 

“I’ve uh, always been interested in you. I watched you play in Bluelock too. I kept thinking to myself, there’s something about you. I want to know more, even if it’s just a little. Stuff like that.” You talk so quietly yet it’s all Rin can hear. All Rin can see in his vision is you. All Rin can think about is you. “I’ve always been interested in other peoples stories.  So I thought, what a waste it would be, to throw away that feeling because of something like love or like. I thought, ‘What's your story, Itoshi Rin?’” 

Rin doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing. 

“When I confessed, I knew you would never like me. Because that’s just the sort of person everyone says you are. Still, what a waste, right? You miss all the shots you don’t take or whatever. So, I wanted to get to know you. I guess.”  

“I don’t get it. I get what you’re like but it still doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing special to know, is there?” 

“Feeling that is special, don’t you think? That’s a special reason to me.” 

He doesn’t follow. You laugh lightly. 

“If I never became interested in Murata-senpai’s story, I would’ve never been his friend. If I gave up on trying to know you, just because you didn’t return to my one-sided feelings, then I would’ve never gotten to know you either. Don’t you think that’s a waste?” 

Rin doesn’t know. He’s never really cared about it. He’s rejected so many confessions and never once thought enough about any of them in any depth. That part of you is foreign. He can chalk it up to a difference in character. He can’t understand wanting to know someone just because. 

(Or maybe he can. He just hasn’t until now. Until this very moment, suspended in time. Where he wants to know what things make you the way you are.) 

Some small, dark part of him wants to ask why. Over and over until his throat feels raw - long enough to understand it. Even as he grips onto that desire so tight, with such bruising force, the words sit in his mouth. They taste like iron. They taste like a bitten tongue. If you’ve watched him all this time, then you know. Being chosen. He’s never been confident in that. Rin wants to ask, why him? 

What’s so special? Enough to keep talking to him? Enough to do any of this? Is getting to know people is always this difficult, he wonders. Does it always feel uncomfortable to be in proximity with someone? 

In the end, he can’t bring himself to ask. He can’t even bear to examine it in himself, the sense of dread washing over him like sickness. He’s nauseous. And this time, there’s a residue of tension he’s finding increasingly difficult to ignore. 

You come through again. He wonders if you can read his mind just like you do with all the nobodies at school. 

“Rin-kun,” You say, your voice like the summer heat. “Getting to know you makes me feel like my feelings aren’t a waste. I’m happy getting to know you. I want to treasure that.” 

What happens when you run out of things to know? The question is too heavy. He settles on a different one. He wants to understand it more. Just to put himself at ease. 

“Isn’t being in the same room with someone who rejected you uncomfortable?” 

“Maybe. But there’s a clear line for me and you, so it’s cool. In like, ten years, maybe someone will interview me about you. As your classmate and stuff. And I’ll go - ‘He’s actually a really nice guy. I actually had a crush on him.’ If I can say that, without being regretful, then that’ll be enough for me.” 

“That’ll be enough for you? Really?” 

“Really.” 

“You’re so weird.” He says, unsure of what else he could possibly say. You giggle, and lay back down on his floor. 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

__ 

Summer comes. 

It doesn’t occur to Rin how often he sees you in school until it all comes to  a halt. He has your number, and you text him often - about unimportant and trivial shit that you think of. In that way, it doesn’t even really feel like you’ve separated. 

But the sudden absence of your chattering in his life makes everything feel especially quiet. Summer is a boring time for Rin. It’s mostly the same. Practicing and playing and studying. On the few occasions he’s been out, it’s because some of the other Bluelock members are gathering and refuse to let him know even a breath of peace.

He’s seen Sae now, though they never really talk about anything. Sort of just look at each other and exchange enough words that their mom doesn’t cry before going back to their room. Sae will be gone before school starts back up again, so Rin isn’t all that worried about it. 

It occurs to Rin for the first time that this summer will be the last of his highschool days. He’s never been sentimental about stuff like that - so he figures you’re to blame for these sudden thoughts. 

Your summer has been a lot busier than his. He should probably expect this from you by now, but your surprisingly youthful social life always shocks him. You’ve been working part-time as usual. In that time though, you’ve also been to the beach and been on an overnight trip to Osaka with your newspaper club. 

(Rin wasn’t happy to hear about this. He was relieved to know it was with a teacher and that you roomed with a girl. But still, not exactly his favorite of anecdotes for the summer.) 

You’ve invited Rin more than once to come hang out with you, but he’s basically always declined. The group setting is troublesome, but being alone with you feels even worse somehow. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, but it would be something. Something deliberate. 

Rin doesn’t know if he can come see you in good faith for such a reason. 

It’s another day spent doing his usual. Being technical, it’s a rest day, which means he’s only allowed to stretch. He has done his basics. Studied, messed around with his ball, responded to a barrage of texts from Bachira and Isagi. He played games for a while, checking out a new horror game before deciding it’d be best not to get too sucked in so he has something to play next time. 

After all that, during a mid-August day while Rin sits on his couch and watches T.V., he receives a facetime call from you for the very first time. At first, he just lets it ring. But when it keeps ringing - he figures your persistence is going to continue unless he replies. 

He looks around. No one's home, so he doesn’t need to go to his room. He swipes, and the call connects. The screen shows him, propped up against something with a full shot of your room. You’re turned away from the camera. Rin just stares. 

“Oh, shit - did you actually pick up?” 

“Should I hang up.” 

“No! No, I just wasn’t expecting you. Don’t hang up. I need a guy's opinion.” 

“What? What for?” 

“I got in a fight with my brother about a dress I bought,” You say, exasperated, and Rin is surprised because you hardly see him. “I know he’s probably looking out for me but I don’t think we talk enough for him to be telling me how to dress.” 

“He’s older than you, right? Maybe you should listen to him.” 

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Either way, I’m not a kid. I’m already 18 and I’m going to college. It’s a cute dress! I feel like it’s fine.”

“So..why’d you call me again?” 

“I’m gonna try it on and show you. Murata-senpai is busy.” 

“You shouldn’t do that to a guy who likes you.” Rin deadpans. You laugh.

“Shut up. I really need an opinion. I wanted to wear it to go out today so if it’s actually too provocative then I have to change my outfit.” 

“Where are you even going?” 

“My friend needs to get a concealer, so probably the mall or something. After that I’ll go buy some stationary.” 

“Alone? What about your friend?” 

“She’s gonna go see her boyfriend.” 

“Why can’t you just go with them? Or ask them to go with you” 

“And third wheel? I’m good. I just need some stationary and then I’ll be home. Easy peasy. Anyway, what’s with the interrogation?” 

“It’s not interrogation.” He insists. You’re offscreen so Rin can’t see you, but he can hear the sound of a zipper echo in the speakers. He’s also sure you’re rolling your eyes. 

When you come on camera, the dress of the hour is on display. Rin’s first thought is to tell you to take it off. It is too provocative to him. The front is fine as is, but it’s nearly backless and it’s cut too high on your thighs. He’s never seen so much of your skin. Maybe that’s a given, since he didn’t go to the beach with you either. 

You give him a quick spin, before patting the front down. You say something, but the words don’t register. It feels like his brain is full of cotton or something. 

“So? Too much? I mean it’s backless but like. I don’t know, it’s kind of loose? And the sleeves are long. Neckline isn’t that bad, either.” 

Rin just says what he thinks “You shouldn’t go out alone wearing it.” 

You frown at him. 

“That’s not helpful, Rin-kun.” 

“It’s…fine. What time does your friend have to go?” 

“Probably right after we’re done.” 

He sighs. 

“Tell her to go with her boyfriend early. I’ll come with you to get your stationary.” 

“Wait, what? Did I hear that right? You’re coming to get me? After I’ve been hounding you to hang out? What’s with the change of heart?” 

“I don’t have anything to do since it’s a rest day. You need stuff and I don’t think you should be out alone. Don’t read into it.” 

“Kinda hard not too but I’m not gonna complain. Are you coming right now?” 

“Yeah. Send me your address.” 

__ 

Rin has no idea what impulse has brought him here. 

That’s not entirely true. What brought him to your apartment towards the end of summer is impulse. He acted on nothing but impulse.

Rin, for better or for worse, finds that you’re clueless about yourself. The fact you were going to call Murata-senpai is already bothering him enough. That, along with the fact you wore the dress and didn’t think it was too short is troubling. It’s not that Rin wants to tell you what not to wear. He doesn’t have the right but you did ask. 

Anyway, it’s a lot less agitating if you’re being accompanied while wearing it. Going alone in something like that, even if it’s the middle of summer, would be stupid.  

Rin doesn’t make it a habit of worrying about the outfits of girls he doesn’t know. He does know you though. He thinks you’d be really annoying if something happened and you got upset about it. So, all he’s doing is preventing that outcome. It’s nothing more than that. 

He knocks on your door as he shakes the thoughts out of his head, and he’s greeted by a man in his late twenties. It dawns on Rin that this is your brother. He really didn’t think this through. 

Your brother is an imposing person. He’s a head taller than Rin with a gruff voice and a scar on his cheek. Rin stares at him blankly. 

“Who are you?” 

“Itoshi Rin. I’m here for—” 

“Nii-san, tell Rin-kun to come inside and sit! I’m not done getting ready.” 

Your brother glares at him. 

“Who’s he? Your boyfriend? Is that why—” 

You come stumbling out of your room, half-dressed and Rin immediately averts his eyes. This is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He already rejected me, so we’re just friends. Stop fussing and let him in, it’s hot out.” 

“He rejected you?” 

Rin should just leave. 

“I already knew he was going to. Now move,” 

Rin doesn’t enjoy being involved in your sibling quarrel. Suddenly, he feels a twinge of regret about some old Bluelock memories. He understands it now more than ever, gaining a little empathy. 

Your brother moves out of the way. You’re standing in the hall, with a single stocking on and powder on your face he’s pretty sure is meant to be brushed. You grin at him. 

“Sorry! I won’t be long, promise. You got here faster than I thought you would.” 

Rin can feel a pair of eyes in the back of his skull. 

“Uh. Yeah. I took the bus so it was quick.” 

“It might be uncomfortable here. Do you wanna sit in my room instead? It’s colder but it’s kind of a mess—” 

“He can sit here.”  Your brother insists. Rin is never leaving his house again. You frown. 

“Didn’t I already tell you we’re not dating? He’s not even interested in me, it’s not like anything is gonna happen.” 

“It’s the principle of it.”  Yeah. Definitely siblings. 

“Whatever. If you make him uncomfortable, I’m gonna yell at you. Rin-kun, sorry. Do you need anything? Juice? Water?” 

Your hospitality throws him off. You’re different at home. 

“Uh. No. I’m okay.” 

“Okay, then I’ll hurry and get dressed. Nii-san, please be civil.” 

With that, you flounce back up to your room. Your brother is staring hard in Rin’s direction. He’s not intimidated. It’s just… so awkward it’s kind of unbearable for him. What do people usually do in this situation? Rin’s not exactly the sociable type.

“She confessed to you?” 

Rin is startled. 

“Uh. Yeah. In April.” 

“And you’re friends?” 

“She asked to be friends.” 

Your brother looks distressed. 

“I don’t understand that girl at all.” 

Rin doesn't either. 

“What’s she like in school?” 

Rin stares. Oh. He’s that kind of older brother. 

“Uh. Busy. She’s in the newspaper club so she’s always doing something. She has a lot of friends and gets along with our class.” 

“I see…that’s good. I’m always worried about her. Our family has  always been busy and I moved out when I was 18 so… we don’t see much of each other. She doesn’t talk about herself that much either.” 

Rin nods absently. What circle of hell is this? 

“She probably thinks I’m just being overprotective,” Bullseye “But I just worry she grew up too fast.” 

Rin thinks if he were a different kind of guy, now would be the time he gives your older brother an encouraging heart to heart. The script is there. It’s just not how he honestly feels. Rin doesn’t take pleasure in defending you. But it’s hypocritical and a little ridiculous to hear it from him.

Some of it is leftover resentment from Sae. The rest is knowing you.

You did grow up too fast. From what he knows about teenage girls, they’re supposed to be…meaner. More hysterical. More inconsiderate. Less responsible and more in the moment. Messy. All teenagers are, really. 

For all the ways you are clumsy and ridiculous, sometimes Rin thinks you’re too off-puttingly mature. It wouldn’t kill you to be more selfish. To be just a little less self-reliant. It’s not normal is it? To be so grateful for things you’re owed. It bothers him. Always has. 

Rin knows what the script is. But it bothers him. 

“If you know that then you don’t really have any right to intervene,” Rin says bluntly. “Suddenly acting protective and considerate when she grew up on her own  is just going to feel stifling. Aren’t you just trying to make yourself feel better?” 

He looks surprised by his answer. Hurt too. 

“I guess that’s right,” 

He frowns. 

“If you actually care, just be honest. She’s not the type of person to turn someone away on a grudge.” 

Before Rin can feel embarrassed about what he’s said, you come stumbling down the steps all dressed up. Your brother gives you a look. 

“Do you need any money?” 

You look at him confused then shake your head no. 

“Okay. Stay safe and have fun.” 

He turns to leave. You watch him go. Rin puts his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to wipe himself of it. 

“Weird… anyways. Ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” 

__ 

Your outing goes well. 

Outing. Not a date. No matter how many times people mistake you two for being on a date today - it was nothing more than an outing. 

You start with stationary for the upcoming term, then you drag Rin to the mall because you need some more clothes. After that, you go into a bookstore to pick up some manga. Rin has fun there because he gets to pick out some new releases and you bond mutually over your tastes. Rin learns both like thrillers. You spend a lot of time together, reading over his shoulder. 

It’s not a date. But it wasn’t bad. He’s so used to talking to you that the entire situation doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You’re funnier than he’s usually willing to give you credit for. Doing all that, plus train rides, makes it so you’re not home until sundown. You, however, refuse to end the night without having some kind of treat. After a lot of begging Rin to cheat on his meal plan, the two of you get ice-cream and you drag Rin to a local playground. Apparently you bring your neighbors' kids here sometimes. 

Now he’s here.  Sitting on swings with ice-cream and it is still not a date. Rin has no opinions on the day but you’re practically bursting at the seams with happiness. The dress you’re wearing is hiking up on your thigh from how you’re sitting. He was right to accompany you, by the way. The amount of creeps he’s had to stare down today alone is outright disgusting. 

Rin takes a spoonful of ice-cream and lets it melt in his mouth. You let your feet hit the mulch beneath you as you lick the ice-cream carefully - trying desperately not to let it spill on your hand. He watches on in amusement. After you finally get a handle on it, you give him a small look. 

“I had fun today,” You say sentimentally. Rin feels his stomach tie in knots “Thank you.”

He frowns. 

“Gross. Stop that.” 

“Aw, c’mon. You’re so edgy. Just admit you had fun! You had a fantastic and whimsical time.” 

He gives you an unimpressed stare. 

“Really? Nothing? You’re not feeling the flames of youthful joy in your loins at all?” 

“Describing it like that is disgusting.” 

“So you admit you know what it is.” 

Rin wants to smile. Fuck, he hates you. 

“...It wasn’t bad.” 

You grin. You’re so annoying.

“Ladies and gents, we got an ‘it wasn’t bad’ from the ever soulless Itoshi Rin!” 

Stupid. So stupid.

“It was more tolerable than hanging out with some of my other dipshit friends.” 

You clasp a hand over your mouth dramatically. 

“Oh…Oh wow… Do you want to try proposing next? The set-up is there. Perfect ambience.” 

His face cracks into a begrudging smile. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

You suddenly go quiet. When Rin looks at you, you’re stunned

“Why’re you being weird?” 

“No, sorry, I was just thinking I really like you,” You say, like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s nice.” 

“...Your ability to say cringy shit like that so easily is astounding to me.” 

“I don’t want to hear this from the guy who unironically uses lukewarm,” You say, biting into your ice-cream cone. Rin blushes. “Besides, nothing wrong with being cringe when you’re in love.” 

“Freak.” 

You give him a thumbs up. 

“One of a kind.” 

There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Rin eats his too, probably a little slower than he has to. Summer feels heavy in the air. 

“You weren’t always like..an edgelord, right?” 

Rin stares at you, perplexed by how sudden the question is. 

“Where’d you hear that from?” 

“Your mom after dinner. You already went upstairs. Said you had a nasty fight with your brother.” 

He doesn’t say anything, posture stiffening at the mention of Sae. 

“It’s not your business.” 

“Hey. No need for the attitude. I’m curious as your number one fan.” You say, trying to back off as much as possible. Like he’s some kind of feral cat you’re trying to calm. “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t have to talk about it.” 

You try your best to be soothing and Rin softens 

He is angry. Not at you. Not really.  The mention of Sae just does that to him. And if anyone else even thought to bring it up - he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves with nothing but bitter hatred. 

With you, there’s not any of that. There’s a lingering sense of hesitance - an internal conflict, but not anger. Rin’s never enjoyed opening his heart to anyone. 

Even so, he feels compelled to tell you, so he does.

“My brothers a dick,” Resentment seeps into his words “He came back from overseas and then basically insulted me for a minute straight. We were always meant to play soccer together but he went through something. He changed. We never talked about it,” 

“What? He insulted you for no reason? That’s so weird. Did you always have a bad relationship?” 

Rin sits with himself quietly. 

“I don’t know if we have one now. We were close as kids. At least.” 

“And he just… came back and started being an asshole to you? Seriously?” 

Rin nods. There’s not much else to the story. Rin’s tried hard not to think about the situation itself. He only uses the feelings that stayed behind to make him better. To give him a reason to play - it’s motivation and nothing more. If he starts to view it too much like what it is, betrayal, he’s afraid everything inside of him will collapse. 

“There’s probably more to it than that,” You conclude thoughtfully. Rin thinks the same “But still. You’re his baby brother. Even if he’s going through something…” 

Rin scoffs “You sound like you’re worried about him.” It comes out more petulantly than he expects 

“Not really. Not as much as I’m worried about you,” You counter, giving him a small smile. Rin feels his heart leap into his throat “I just figure, you know, maybe thinking about it like that would help. You were close right? Your mom said he used to dote on you,” 

Rin nods. He feels his chest swell and tighten. 

“Then…I bet it sucked. I bet it was hard. Or at least, it must’ve been lonely to go through that,” You say, frown deepening “Such a sudden change would be hard for anyone to deal with, I think. It’s okay if you feel like it’s unfair. His reasons aside.” 

You sigh, suddenly, covering your hands with your face. 

“What?” Rin asks. You shake your head. 

“You poor thing. I wanna hug you to death you know. A good squeeze. I’m trying to refrain.” You say, stomping your feet just slightly. He feels a flush crawl up his neck, turning his head to look away. 

“...It’s not like I’m stopping you.” 

He doesn’t have the courage to look at you. Not as he says it, or after to steal a glance of what face you're making. Instead, he hears the metal of the chain and feels the warmth of your body. It’s a tight hug. You’re standing and he’s sitting, your arms around his neck, his face directly against your chest. He widens his eyes. He wants to yell at you for being a defenseless idiot, but the feeling of being hugged so tightly washes the words away. You’re soft…and warm. He’s never been hugged by someone who isn’t his mom or brother before, and he can’t remember the last time either thing happened to him. You pat his head. 

Do you touch people like this often? So casually? Or is he special because you like him, he wants to ask. He wants to ask but doesn’t want to know the answer, pushing the feeling down as deep as he can make it go. He wraps his arms around you loosely, above your waist trying to be respectful.  

But he leans into the warmth. Like it’s something that happens once in a lifetime. 

“Hey, Rin.”  You say, soft. He can feel the warmth of your breath against his hair. 

“Hn.” 

“I hope you kick your brother's ass in soccer.” 

You sound teary. Weirdly, it makes Rin feel better. 

“Yeah.”

__ 

School starts up again during September. 

The autumn season welcomes warm colors, fallen leaves and the sort of cool weather that puts the summer uniforms back up on the hangers. Rin is listening to music when he spots you waiting for him at the gate, waving your hand at him. He has half a mind to ignore you, you’re so embarrassing. 

But before he can pretend not to see, you’re jogging over to him. He has to stand so you don’t end up bumping into him. You walk like you were born backwards, two left feet with such little awareness of your surroundings it stresses Rin out. 

He gives you a blank stare as you smile, securing your bag to your shoulder. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” You say warmly. Rin pauses to look at you. You look different somehow. Lately you always do, Rin wonders if you’ve picked up some weird shape-shifting in your time apart “Are you excited for the new semester, hm? Hmm?” 

He keeps walking and you fall in step with him. You try but he’s too fast, so he slows just a little. He clicks his teeth, shaking his head, eyes taking in the view of the building in front him.

“Why would I be excited?” 

You shrug. 

“Because winter break  is close? Because there’s fun leaves outside? Because it’s your birthday in 6 days?”

He stops dead in his tracks. 

“What the hell? Why do you know that?” 

“Your mom told me.” You say, skipping along happily to school like you didn’t just say something insane. His frown deepens. 

“You have my moms number? You talk to my mom?” 

“She loves me,” You say casually, turning only to look at him and stick your tongue out “And she’s nice. Get over it.” 

With this, you rush into the building faster, giggling as you leave. Rin, frustrated, stomps after you. 

__

Your time together at lunch continues into fall. It’s the third day of the term, September 6th and you’re sitting by his side. The two of you eat in casual silence now, falling into a regular routine. There’s something about the whole ordeal that makes Rin feel a little funny. 

Friendship, as it stands, is still a lukewarm idea to him. But sprawled out next to you in a comfortable quiet isn’t the worst thing. The weather is cool enough to be nice and the daylight lasts for just the right amount of time to see sunset when he treks back home from practicing shooting into the net. 

That kind of sentimental viewing of his surroundings is a bad habit he’s picked up from you. He can’t seem to shake it off. He’s tried at least, but Rin has been stopping to look at everything nowadays. The sun, the trees, the cars passing. Everything passes right by his life, slowly. 

Eventually, eventually this whole thing will cease. You’ll never see Rin again and he’ll never see you - and you’ll part your separate ways. Thinking about that feels so stifling. But he figures since that’s the case, there’s probably not any harm in letting the time pass like this. As long as he’s still improving. 

Your voice doesn’t catch him off-guard anymore, no matter how loud it is after a long bout of silence. You stuff something into your mouth, a tomato he thinks. 

“Rin-kun,” You start, tilting your head to one-side “Are you doing anything for your birthday?” 

“No.” He answers immediately because he never does. He hasn’t done much since Sae left home and now that he’s a third year and about to be 18, there’s even less of a desire to pull together a party and celebrate. 

“What? Boo. That’s so lame.” 

“Don’t be so childish.” 

“I’m older than you, you dummy,” You say with such automation that Rin doesn’t even get the chance to process “You’re not even gonna have cake? Nothing?” 

“My mom might but I don’t have any plans.” 

“Your mom is so nice.” 

“Stop.” 

You frown at him but don’t say any more.  You look like you have something on your mind. Probably something stupid, but Rin can’t help but wonder what’s making your brow crease so intensely. 

“What?” He snips. You flick your eyes to him and shake your head. 

“I just think it’s a waste,” You say simply, that tone of fondness seeping into it that Rin can’t get used to. “It’s such a big number, you know? A little cake and some show tunes or something would suffice.” 

Rin scoffs. 

“I don’t care about it. It’s pointless to me. Lukewarm” He says, before noticing your genuine sadness. He sighs a little to himself “Stop looking like a depressed mutt.” 

“I’m not a dog.” 

“I guess dogs are more well-trained.’ 

“Hey. Hey, what the hell do you mean by that?” 

He ignores you. 

“Anyway, stop worrying about it.”

You pout. 

“Easier said than done.”. 

__ 

Rin’s morning routine has been the exact same for two years. 

He starts by opening the window, to let fresh air and sunlight come in through the glass. He feels like his room gets stale overnight and it wakes him up to taste the sun in the back of his mouth. He takes a deep breath of it, clearing out his lungs and blinking his eyes open. 

After that he stretches. He unfurls a Bluelock brand yoga mat onto his carpeted floor and gets to his usual cycle. It’s integral for an athlete to keep their muscles stretched, functioning like a well-oiled machine. He has it down pat. He starts from the bottom up, stretching his legs and working up to his arms and shoulders. His legs always come first since he’s a striker, always focusing on the mobility of his calves and foot before he stretches out his thigh.

His core, then his chest and arms. When he’s done with all that - he practices yoga for fifteen minutes. Again with mobility but this time full body, like making sure each of his limbs work with each other without any stops. He’ll sit back down after those minutes are up to meditate for another fifteen - clear his mind of absolutely anything stuck in it. It’s the most peace he gets on any given day. 

At the end, he sits with his feelings. Carefully, he undoes the wrapped clothed box around his heart and stares at it as it sits in his lap. Beating and raw and melancholy blue  - so full of sadness and anger like it could burst at any minute. Revisiting his sadness and rage is a necessity. Sometimes it feels like only sadness. Only monochrome. 

(He wonders if a day will come where that part of his routine is changed. If ever, he’ll unwrap his own heart only to see it pink or golden yellow or even a softer shade of red. He wonders if the colors ever change, or if time will fade them.) 

All of this happens before he even brushes his teeth. The rest of his morning routine is keeping his room neat. He folds the comforter on his bed, puts any dirty clothes away, and gets dressed. He doesn’t really style his hair - it’s so pin straight after washing he normally just has to brush it to keep it nice. 

After that he has breakfast, and checks through his bag. On days he has school he goes to school and comes back to practice. If he’s home alone - he picks one of many other things to do. He tends to practice closer to evening, taking a shower before he goes to sleep. 

On the morning of Rin’s 18th birthday, he’s only really acutely aware of the date. His morning starts the exact same as it has everyday for nearly two years. Nothing to make him feel particularly different. When he looks in the mirror, he still sees his brother's face and when he looks at his heart it’s still a steely, melancholy blue. 

When he comes down stairs, though - there’s a pair of shoes he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a humming traveling down the hall and always the way up towards him that he knows quite well. 

He thinks, for a minute, he might still be dreaming. Why you would be in his house on a Saturday morning makes absolutely no sense otherwise. 

He slips his feet into his gray slippers and treks into the living room, only to find you in view of the open kitchen. There’s a balloon attached to flowers and a spread of fruits on the table. Orange juice in a cold glass. You with his moms borrowed apron, humming contentedly as you bend over the stove. 

Rin doesn’t know what the feeling is. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or not. Just that it’s so overwhelming to see you in his kitchen, marching to the beat of your own drum like you always do. 

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” 

You startle when you hear his voice, whipping around to face him. Dramatically putting a hand on your chest - you shoot him an unfriendly glare. 

“Well hello to you too.” 

“Answer my question.” He demands. You click your teeth. 

“Well, obviously I’m making breakfast. We’re celebrating your birthday.” 

“Without telling me.” 

You snap your fingers before giving him finger guns “Precisely. Genius deduction, Itoshi-sama.” 

“What the fuck. Where are my parents.” 

“They’re out on a day-trip! It’s a Saturday. They’ll be back here on Sunday afternoon. Read the note.” 

“What were you gonna do if I had last minute plans?” 

“You don’t though?” You say like knowing that is so obvious. He knows you asked but still “I guess I’d turn around and make my own breakfast. Give you your gift at school or something.” 

“Why are you here?” He asks a little softer this time. With a little more emotion, just a touch. He never expects anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. 

Rin doesn’t really ask for much. Certainly wouldn’t ask for this on his own accord. That’s a vain thing to do, right? 

It occurs to Rin that this is the kind of birthday you do for someone you like. Someone you love. You’re always confessing your feelings to him. You only say it when you’re sure. It wasn’t like Rin didn’t know you had feelings for him, because the point of it all had been for you to try and get rid of them. Or honor them, or deal with them in whatever way you saw fit. Rin had agreed on a whim to help you with that. Your friendship had started with the very notion that you liked Itoshi Rin and he didn’t like you back. It’s not some secret. 

When the light pours in through the windows and hits your back and for the first time - Rin understands what the fuss is about being in love is. He’s sure that this strange, grotesque warmth is the aftermath of being liked. He always thought it’d feel more simple. That he’d remain unmoved in the face of it because he was different.

It’s not like he’s unloved. He’s sure his parents love him. His brother did too. Still does, Rin thinks. 

But it’s the first time someone has made their feelings so clear to him. Someone who isn’t supposed to love or like him. And even Rin, chronically apathetic, can’t bring himself to ignore the weight of knowing that. He stares at you, dumbstruck. 

You’re still turned to him. There’s a cool tumbler of iced-coffee sitting on the counter that you sip, head tilted to one side. 

“Well, I don’t know,” You start, a hand on your hip “It just felt like too much of a waste to do nothing on your birthday. But you’re not the kind of guy who likes big celebrations. So I thought maybe just hanging out would be more your speed.”

Rin swallows. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

“Bold thing to assume.” 

You frown back. 

“Well, I was gonna invite Isagi-kun—“

“Isagi? How do you know Isagi?”

“He saw me leaving your house ‘cause he was gonna visit.  After we talked he followed me on Instagram. Anyway, I was gonna invite him and Bachira and all four of us could go to a movie,” You explain as you sigh and go back to the stove “But he said you’d probably just want to hang out with me.” 

“…And he didn’t say anything else?”

“Well he asked if we were dating so I just told him the truth. Really nice guy, by the way.” 

Rin’s going to hound Isagi next time they practice together. 

“So. Now you’re here… doing what exactly?”

“Making you breakfast. I’ll make you ochazuke for lunch later. Haven’t decided on dinner, I thought I’d ask when you woke up. Your mom said you liked traditional breakfast but I didn’t think I’d be done by the time you woke up so there’s fruit.” 

Sure enough, when Rin walks over to the other side of the table - there’s a half done spread of breakfast on the table. All the dining ware is set up neatly, the table arranged so well he feels guilty for not helping. 

“You didn’t have to do all this for me.” Rin tsks, a frown on his expression as he stands next to you. He watches you pour egg into a square pan, slowly evening out the layers. 

“I wanted to,” You reply, not thinking twice about it. “I enjoy cooking for people. It’s fun. I normally just do it to feed myself, so it’s nice to share.” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Thanks.” 

He’s afraid to look over at you, the excitement radiating off of you. It makes him uncomfortable that something so simple could make you so happy. 

“Can you repeat that?” 

“Don’t start.” 

“Rin-chan,” You coo, immediately making him so embarrassed he wants to hit you “You’re so docile today.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” He says, hitting your shoulder as light as he can. 

“Woah…how romantic. Dying on the day you were born? Jeez. I’m swooning.” 

He looks at you blankly. 

“Stop being gross. Where did you even get that from?” 

“Too many things to count,” You say with a snap. He shakes his head. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” 

“How diligent. It’s fine! It’s your birthday, right? Sit. Eat some fruit. Pick out what you wanna do. I rented some games and there’s some movies I had in mind too. Make your agenda. “

Rin laughs to himself, lightly. 

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?” 

“Don’t be stingy! I’m already making breakfast.”

Rin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. Whatever.” 

__

You end up back in Rin’s room. 

After a healthy discussion about what he would like to do - Rin landed on wanting to do both. He picked out a copy of Resident Evil  to play until after lunch and then decided to binge a bunch of movies after. 

You even agree to accompany him while he practices. There’s 24 hours in a day and the plans are nothing more than vague suggestions - but deep down, it makes Rin kind of…well whatever. It’s not a bad plan. 

Currently, you’re sitting at the foot of Rin’s bed with your hands tight around the controller of his PS4. Rin feels a little bad for you. While you do okay with horror movies, the immersion of horror games seems to frighten you enough that your eyes are glued onto the screen. As such, Rin is trying his best not to startle you as you lean forward every so slightly. The leg of your pants is pushed up just barely. You’re dressed cozy, so it’s funny seeing your head shrink into your hoodie. 

“Why the fuck would you set it hardcore if this BOTH of our first times playing,” You whine, turning yourself into the next room carefully on screen “I’m scared.” 

“You’re such a wuss,” He scoffs, leaning back from where he’s sitting next to you on his bed. “We’re never gonna make any progress like this.” 

You stomp your feet and Rin resists the urge to laugh. 

“Shut up, it’s scary.” 

He nudges your shoulder with his knee. 

“Stop complaining. You got to pick the character and I got to pick the difficulty.” 

“I deserve to lust after Leon after the shit I’m getting put through,”

Rin scoffs at your declaration. The irritation is softened when you walk into the backroom faced with a zombie - a short scream leaving your lips as you mash buttons and use your gun to kill it quickly. You manage to dodge as much damage as you can, obviously trying not to waste limited resources. Even so it takes damn near 7 bullets. Despite your cowardice, you’re pretty good at the game. 

You loot the room for any possible supplies then leave. You turn the corner of the isle, a zombie filled gas station awaiting you. You manage to save bullets and stun the one closest to you before getting your shit completely rocked - quick to duck out. The first cut scene of the game comes next where you meet the other main character Claire. You gasp like you’ve been running, shoving the controller towards Rin. 

“Your turn. Move, I wanna sit on your bed.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s a weekend and I have a right to be lazy. Shoo. On the floor.” 

“You’re getting way too comfortable in my house on my birthday.” 

Rin, does, go sit on the floor where you were. Mostly because it’s a better position to play the game in. At least it has minimal back support. The cut scene plays in the background, nothing difficult as the main characters go to the next area - the police station and the technical start of the game. Rin hasn’t played the remake, but he did longingly watch some playthroughs while he was in Bluelock during its release. 

He had never mentioned it to you, so he was shocked you knew enough about it to bring it over. He likes survival horror and he was always wanting to play it. 

“Me and your mom are best friends so I practically live here anyways. Also shut-up and look.” 

He does shut up, too invested in the story to be annoyed.  The main characters get separated and Leon ends up in the streets. 

For whatever reason, he’s conscious about proximity. Your knee next to his shoulder. You’re close enough to touch him casually and he’s wondering…hoping to know if you’re naive enough to do it without thinking. It feels like a stroke of luck, or maybe a form of mind-reading when you reach for his hair with your fingers. He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He thinks he should tell you to stop. 

But when you ask “Is this okay?” 

He can’t find the strength in himself to do it. He focuses on the scene in front of him, weaving through the cars to shake off a horde of zombies. Rin grabs the controls, immediately turning around to try and stun a group of zombies before turning into the gate so he can head to the station.

His heart is racing and his eyes almost feel cross from how much he’s focusing but it’s not exactly the game. The game isn’t even that scary, as much as it’s gory he thinks. 

“I don’t care but,” He says through a breath, trying to sound like he means it and that he’s not so conscious of the way your pinky lingers on his nape “when’d you get so touchy?” 

“I like touching you.” You reply, twirling a strand of hair around your fingers “Your hair is so silky and nice. I felt when I gave you a hug that one time and I kept thinking about it.” 

Rin wants to say “Do you think about me that much?” but the words don’t come out how he wants. 

“Do you touch everyone like this?” 

You’re silent for a minute. It takes patience, effort - not to turn his head to see the look on your face. Though he probably knows it. He thinks he just wants affirmation from you. 

“...No. Not really. I just like you.” 

There’s a beat of silence - a pause designated for his rejection, the promise he made to you so many months ago. He knows what the script is. And he’s said it many times before. Not in a million years, right? 

But he can’t bring himself to say it this time, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah. I know.” 

___

Before Rin knows it, the day is coming to a close. 

The entirety of it you spend together, with you faithfully stuck to him and without Rin feeling entirely suffocated. He isn’t sure why it’s so easy with you. Normally this much socialization would render him exhausted. Irritable at best and angry at worst. But he’s not. In fact even after his entire workout routine, he felt fine listening to you ramble. He didn’t need complete silence, but even when there were lulls and dips - it didn’t feel uncomfortable. 

You didn’t get far in Resident Evil 2. Rin decides to cut it short since it’d definitely take a lot longer than all the time you had and there were movies he wanted to watch. When you whine about not being able to finish - he quietly told  you to just come over next time and play it with him then. 

He waited a year, so he can wait a little longer. Your face lit up idiotically, giddy with delight at the promise of next time. As promised, ochazuke was for lunch and after 30 minutes of digestion - he put it out of his mind as he did his daily drills. You joined him, insisting that you’d be fine doing nothing. Sat on the field with a book the entire time even though it was cold, tossing him his things whenever he took a break - smiling each time he talked to you. 

(“You know you don’t actually need to stay with me the entire day.” He reminds you of this as he brings a bottle of water to lips, sweat dripping down the side of his head even in the cool weather. You turn your head up at him. 

“When else am I gonna get to stick by your side all day? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 

“You’re so good at being annoying it’s impressive,” He says, dropping his water bottle back down “Aren’t you bored?” 

“Huh? No way. I have my fun book to keep me company and on top of that I get to see you play in the flesh.” 

Oh, yeah. You mentioned watching him when he was in Bluelock. “Well, it’s not like a match. But I’m not gonna keep asking, so whatever.” 

“Yes, yes - I understand. Now go, shoo.”)

Even though Rin practiced for his usually long amount of hours, you sat with him diligently - even stopping to cheer him on when you needed a break from reading or studying or whatever else you were doing. 

Upon returning, he went to shower and you went to warm up in  the kitchen. After he was redressed and clean, he joined you downstairs to order take-out and have dinner. 

Finally, it’s after dinner and you’ve banished Rin to his room while you set something up downstairs. He’s mostly scrolling twitter, watching soccer highlights from the accounts he follows. He’s just about comfortable when you finally call him back down, which irritates him enough to click his teeth but not enough to bring it up to you. 

After a long day, when Rin finally comes back down stairs, walking down into the hall and back into the living room - he can’t help but be surprised at the change in scenery. All the lights have been turned low, and everything looks different. You’ve taken to decorating a wall of his living room after some rearranging. A white sheet hanging up with something, and a plethora of fairy lights in stripes going down it in a nice pattern. 

There’s a banner and it looks hand-made. It spells out happy birthday, rin in neat, thick blue letters on cut-out white shapes, attached along the back wall. On the table in front, there’s some decoration along with nice paper plates and plastic cutlery and a cake in the middle that’s nicer than he’s expecting. 

You beam at him as he walks in. And you’re stupid enough to be wearing a birthday hat, giving him jazz hands as he enters. 

“Happy birthday!” 

On paper, Rin thinks it’s been something of a boring birthday. He did what he normally would do on a day off but you cooked for him twice. He spent most of it with you, even though it was a lot of nothing. A lot of being together like you were roommates or something. Maybe that's why he’s so reluctant to admit that this is making him feel something. 

That the silly theatrics feel meaningful. It is thoughtful, isn’t it? Rin doesn’t think anyone in his entire life has done anything this thoughtful for him. Birthdays are birthdays, and they’ve never really been especially meaningful. He didn’t see the point in just celebrating the day of someone's birth. Certainly, he doesn’t think he’d have it in himself to do something like this for another person. 

Rin stares at you. Wearing a stupid birthday hat and the most gleeful, idiotic smile he’s ever seen. All of this for a guy who’s rejected you, but you seem to cherish so much anyways. Apathetic and ungraceful as he is and always will be - he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do. What a strange, unrecognizable feeling welling up inside of him. And not even one feeling, but so many so tangled with each other - he can’t see anything straight. His eyes aren’t drawn to the candlelight, or the moon, or the cake. 

It’s like a sense of tunnel vision. Where all Rin can really look at is you. It’s happened before. How can anyone be like this, he wonders. Are there people born into the world so unselfishly? And if they are, why would he ever cross paths with them? How could someone so easy to love have any business loving him, in the first place? 

Rin won’t ever understand you. He accepts that. He’ll never be able to understand this kind of person. Someone who shines even brighter than the sun. 

But he’s not so stupid to not understand himself. He’s unable to say the words he’d promised to you all the way in April. Rin doesn’t like to lie. 

He would be lying, that is, if you told him just one more time that you liked him.  He’d be lying if it told you it’ll never happen. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like you. And it’s not just because you like him, because that never mattered to him in the first place. 

Some people are made to be adored. Born special and bright like everything should revolve around them. Perhaps that kind of thing is only afforded to people without ego. With heart and character and charisma. 

It doesn’t matter. What a stupid thing to realize on his birthday of all days.

“Rin-kun?” 

He blinks. 

“Where’d you hide all of this?” 

You laugh at him, bubbly and delighted.

“I brought it in a tote and kept it in the kitchen. Mostly stuff from my house, and your mom helped with the cake and stuff. It’s nice right? I did a good job, no?” 

Ah. He’s fucked. 

“It looks okay.” 

You frown, huffing and puffing “Just okay? C’mon, don’t be stingy.” 

“Doesn’t begging for compliments defeat the purpose of them.” 

“Not to me,” 

Your frown deepens and Rin is starting to feel the rose colored glasses set in. 

“It’s nice. It’s good.” 

“So you like it? You’re happy? Delighted, even? Absolutely overjoyed by-” 

“Cut it out or I’m going to send you home.” 

“No,” You whine, tugging on his sleeves like you’re worried he really will “I want cake.” 

“Then let’s cut the cake?”

“We can’t,” You put your arms up in a cross and Rin gives you a look of confusion. “I promised I’d get a good picture of you.” 

“What? Promised who?” 

“Your parents, mostly. But also, you should post on your Instagram a little more, no? You’re basically a famous player already, you should have the courtesy to feed your fans.” 

Before he can do anything to protest, you usher Rin to sit on the other side of the table before you back with his phone. He stares at you but you only look at him expectantly. Still, he unlocks it and hands it to you. He gives you an irritated sigh (though he isn’t really irritated). 

“This is stupid.” 

“It’s a good thing to capture memories, you dummy. Now smile,” You say, holding up the camera after some angling “Or don’t. The people do love a good scowl.” 

That makes him want to smile. He’s awkward in the photos but he does stay still for them, trying his best not to look ridiculous. You take a few, then pause to come up to the table and light the candles in front of him. He hears the camera shutter one more time before you look up at him over the edge. 

“Ready to blow out your candles?” 

“I guess.” 

Before Rin can do anything about it, he listens to you sing happy birthday - poorly with too much enthusiasm. You’re tone deaf and passionate all at the same time - singing each word with a dramatic flair until you’re on the final word. You can’t clap because you’re recording but you do cheer as he burns the candles out. Once it’s over you stop recording, looking down and swiping through the pictures. 

“They turned out good. You should post them.” 

“...You’re done taking them?” 

You tilt your head to one side. 

“Yeah?” 

“We didn’t get any together.” 

Your eyes widen like he said something shocking. 

“...You wanna take them together?” 

He scoffs. 

“We spent the whole day together.” 

You flush, suddenly embarrassed and god. 

“I just wasn’t expecting you to want that. I mean we’re friends but-” 

“Shut up. And come here.” 

So you do, phone still in hand as you mess with your appearance.

“Do you want to take it or do you want me to?” 

“Oh, uh lemme just-” You go through a bunch of filters and find one before handing it to him, a nervous expression “You take it cause your arm is longer and you’re taller.” 

Rin just nods. Takes the phone from you,  and lets you pose a little before he takes the photo. He hands it back to you so you can see, and watches your eyes light up as you stare at it. Stupid. 

“It came out nice.” You say. You save it onto his phone before handing it back to him. “Send it to me later?” 

“Yeah.” 

You give him another grin and Rin takes his phone from you, going through the pictures as he opens up Instagram. He guess it wouldn’t hurt to post. You leave his side, saying something about cutting the cake. But he isn’t looking, really. 

He drafts a post as he waits for you. He likes the picture you took together best and decides to put it second. He never has any idea on how to caption these which is why he doesn’t want to post it in the first place. He glances at you, then sighs internally. 

itoshirin._ posted for the first time in a while.  posted 7 mins ago. liked by isagi_yoichi, bachiraaaaa, and others.  itoshirin._ ; 09.09.2002. thanks for everything, stupid.  isagi_yoichi commented: no way you’re getting a girlfriend before me. life is so unfair and cruel.  isagi_yoichi commented: oh happy birthday btw bachiraaaaa commented: RIN-CHAN !!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ official_itoshisae: happy birthday.  itoshirinsnumberonefan: WHO IS THAT??  yo_hiori: happy birthday! 

“Rin, I cut the cake!” 

He puts his phone on DND before taking a plate of cake from your hand. 

__

The clock strikes two, and you’re still at Rin’s place. 

After a long binge of horror movies, you’re both comfortably in each other's space - only inches away, talking about nothing. The movie ended a little over half an hour ago.

He’s still doing just that, listening to you chatter away next to his ear. The room is completely dark minus the soft glow of the T.V. which gives just enough light for Rin to gaze at your face. Your eyes are wide and sparkly, still, even though it seems like the tiredness is getting to you too. 

Neither of you wants to stop talking. You’ve started discussing manga - particularly Rin's favorite manga. 

“Ciguatera was interesting,” You say, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” 

“I’m shocked you read it. Seriously. I thought you would’ve  forgotten the minute after I told you.” 

“Well, yeah. You recommended it, so obviously I wanted to at least try,” You say with a breathless laugh, turning over to face him. You’re facing each other, he realizes a second too late “You’re such a boy, by the way. Weekly young magazine? Really.” 

“Shut up.” He says, with no real bite to his words “What were you expecting?” 

“Dunno. Didn’t think you were interested in romance of all things. Especially cause Ogino’s kind of a loser.” 

“There was other stuff in it.” He points out. You chuckle. 

“Yeah. Way raunchier and darker than I thought. But it was mostly about romance. So, I was surprised to say the last.” 

“What,” Rin starts, partially offended by the implication “Do you think I'm a soulless machine or something?” 

“Well no,” You frown, shaking your head as you stare at him “But you’ve rejected every confession you’ve ever gotten, even from some of the prettiest girls in our entire grade. So I didn’t think you had any interest in that kinda thing.”

He scoffs.”You’re stupid.” 

“You tell me all the time,” You point your fingers and place them under your chin. “Why did you reject them, by the way? Just trying to focus on soccer?” 

He feels flush, explaining. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he sighs. 

“None of those people actually had feelings for me. It wasn’t meaningful in any way.” 

“And you want it to be meaningful?” 

“There’s no point being in a relationship with someone I don’t like and barely know. And who doesn’t really care to get to know me. I’m busy enough with soccer, and I don’t have time to entertain lukewarm relationships like that.” 

“What an unexpectedly sentimental reason. How soft of you Rin-kun.” 

“Shut up.” 

There’s a pause of thoughtful silence where you hum and lay flat on your back, reaching your hand up towards the ceilings. Rin can’t do much more than look. 

“You know. How I said I’ve been watching you since you were in Bluelock?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Y’know. I always thought you looked really sad back then. I might’ve been reading too much into it but,” You smile, corners of your lips upturned while you giggle “It’s like…weirdly relieving to see you like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“You’re like…just a boy,” You say wispy and delighted “A normal boy who reads shitty raunchy magazines and thinks about love. It’s comforting somehow. Makes me feel special. I really like you. A little more every day, it feels like.” 

Another beat of silence. He thinks you can sense the hesitance of his rejection. There’s such a tangible shift in the atmosphere. If Rin stretches his hand out to touch it, he thinks he’d push through an impossible barrier and keep falling in it forever. He thinks it would swallow him. 

He isn’t sure what it is. If it’s an act of bravery, or a sudden uptick in adrenaline, or if the exhaustion of a long day is finally starting to hit. Maybe it’s just these feelings that keep overwhelming him that make his body move. Something outside of his mind, nestled in his ribs, that has him inching closer to you. 

He flips until he’s hovering over you. Your eyes widen and you stare at him. He stares back, like he almost can’t believe himself. 

“Rin-kun?” 

And he freezes. The confidence dissipates as soon as he finds it but now he’s above you, on top of you. You’re messy and flush from the day. Your mascara is smudged and your lipgloss is gone - leaving a faint sheen on your mouth that matches your skin. Your hoodie is rumpled around the shoulders - one of the sleeves pulled to your elbows. Rin really gets a look at you. Cognizant of the fact he spent all day with you. That’s why you look worn and sleepy and so unbelievably cute. So cute it annoys him. Irritates him half to death. 

You open your mouth again, only to close it. It almost feels like he can hear your heart. Or maybe it’s his. It’s hard to know the difference. 

“Is this a n-new kind of bullying?” You joke, trying to ease the tension. He frowns at you. 

“Does it seem like I’m joking?” 

Your eyes widen and you turn away. Rin wants to make you look. 

“Well no but…” And you squirm a little “what are you doing?”

He doesn’t know, either. 

“I don’t know.” He admits, and you laugh a little breathless and the tension is so thick Rin can’t swallow around it “I want to kiss you.” He blurts out. Awkward and uncharismatic and clumsy. 

A bout of silence.

“...Am I going insane? Did you just say you want to kiss me?”

“I did.” 

More silence. 

“Why? Wouldn’t that make me your first kiss?” 

“It would.” 

“And isn’t that like… reserved for your special someone?” 

“It is.” 

“Rin-kun,” You breathe out, blinking in disbelief  “Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

“I do.”

You’re a little more serious this time. You put your hand on his shoulder. He feels like the Earth is gonna fall from under his feet. 

“Stop messing with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

You frown. 

“Do you really want to kiss me?” 

“Yeah,” He can’t think “I do.” 

You reach up for him. You’re more experienced with this kind of thing and it shows as you cup the nape of his neck. He doesn’t finch. He doesn’t look away from you either, as your thumb brushes under his eyes - the both of you so wrapped up in each other nothing matters. Rin would stay in this forever, if someone gave him the option.

“W-we have to talk about this afterwards, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I’m serious, Itoshi Rin. Because you can’t just—” 

Your palm cups his cheek and he rubs against it instinctively. He sees your eyes widen and you swallow - a frown still etched into your features. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your voice goes as soft as a whisper. 

“You’re so unfair.” 

He almost laughs. 

“Please kiss me.” He asks, so silently it almost goes unheard but he knows you hear it because your lips press into a thin line before you’re pulling Rin down towards you. Your lips are soft. And warm. And they taste faintly like whip-cream and the slight sour of strawberries and your hands are so gentle. Somehow he feels at ease even though he feels like he’s going to implode on himself from nerves. 

Just a little deeper before you pull away and stare at him. Rin looks back, eyes jumping from your lips up to your eyes and back down to your lips. You open your mouth to say something. Mumbling his given name only for him to cut you off with another kiss, a little deeper this time. The way it shuts you up is so cute it almost makes him angry. How it muffles your words, tapers off into a noise of surprise and ends up just back at a kiss. 

He’s never felt like this kind of thing was a viable option. Itoshi Rin is an antisocial, angry, and apathetic soccer protege and he has no time in the world for anything lukewarm. He’s rejected every confession he’s ever received in his life and always thought of relationships as something far off and disconnected to him in his entirety.

Perpetually unloveable but maybe not in such an angsty, vulnerable way. Like a law of the universe. A truth, like thinking of him, means to postulate that he is that way. A prerequisite to understanding him. 

Rin doesn’t like things that are half-ass. Perhaps, part of the reason he likes you so much is because you’ve proved him wrong in such an utterly defeating way. The fact your very existence is by and large, the antithesis of this truth. 

Itoshi Rin is not only loveable, but he is capable of loving. There is evidence of it, right underneath him now - with soft lashes and wet eyes and the brightest smile that could ever exist. 

And it’s haunting for more reasons than one. But he likes how unyielding the revelation is. You’re worried he’ll want to avoid it, and he does. But he doesn’t think he could forever, even if he tried. 

He’s confident if he made the attempt, you’d come barreling towards him once more. With all the confidence in the world. It makes him want to at least try to face it.

Which is why he’s kissing you a second, third, and fourth time. Which is why he’s looking at you in between, wide blue eyes transfixed on every part of your face. He’s trying to face what daunts him most, not like but love and the difference is more important as the days pass. 

You pull away, finally - put a hand on his chest and stare. 

“Rin-kun,” You whisper, uncertain of yourself which he hates. “I like you. I really like you.” And again, a little softer “And I want you to like me too,” Like that had been the biggest secret of all. Something you’d never told anyone, even once. 

Rin can’t imagine it. Have you been holding in something like this all this time? He only realized a couple hours ago and it already feels like he’s going to rip apart at the seams. 

“I do. I do like you.”

“Really? Forreal? Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?” 

He knocks his forehead against yours. 

“Be quiet. How can you be this stupid in the middle of getting confessed to?” 

You pout. Pout at him, all whiny. God. 

“It doesn’t feel real to me.” 

He laughs humorlessly. “It’s all a dream. You’ll forget it all in the morning.” 

“Stop being mean to me.” 

He has to be. If he’s not you’re going to see right through him. 

“No,” He says instead “Stop being so ridiculous first.” 

“An impossible ask to the world's most ridiculous girl.” 

He smiles a little. 

“That’s a good name for you. I’ll change your contact.” 

“Nooo,” You say again, this time pulling him down for a hug. His eyes widened. And he’s unfair? “Be nice to your girlfriend.” 

He doesn’t have anything to say to that. It flusters him too, admittedly. Before he can think of a counter, you yawn big and wide. Rin is still on top of you and neither of you have brushed your teeth. He was planning on putting you up in the guest room, but currently you’re clinging to him half-away. And he has no such plans of telling you to move. 

“I’m so tired.” 

Rin feels like he’s going to pass out, He mumbles. 

“You can sleep.” 

“Want you to sleep too.” 

Rin closes his eyes. He couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. You’ll have to talk about it in the morning. 

“Okay.” 

__ 

“Rin? Where’s your frie—oh!” 

Rin stirs the minute his mom enters the room. It only takes him a minute to regain consciousness and by the time he’s awake - he’s already regretting not locking his door. 

He continues to pretend to be asleep. He thinks you still are because you’re comfortably slotted in his arms. Rin is so embarrassed he wants to die. He hears his mom gasp, and then quietly shouts for his father to come to his room. 

“What are you—oh.” 

Rin is going to have the worst morning of his life whenever they leave. He remains still. He hears the shutter of a camera and grits his teeth all the way in the back of his jaw. 

“Oh this will make a great wedding photo.” 

His dad laughs a little to himself, ushering his mother out of the room “Don’t get carried away,” 

When the door finally clicks, Rin opens his eyes and lets out a breath of relief. Much to his shock, he also feels you stir. His eyes widen when you turn to him, your face painted in utter mortification before you bury it in your hands. He stares at you as you groan, kicking your feet. 

“Oh god I’m going to cry. How am I going to face her? Oh my god” 

Rin scoffs a little at your dramatics. It calms him down in a strange way “She’s not gonna say anything to you. She’s probably only going to bully me about it.” 

“I’ve forsaken you, mother-in-law” 

Rin nudges your ribs, blush crawling up his face. 

“Shut up.” 

__ 

Up until three weeks ago, Rin didn’t take issue with the way you interacted at school. 

You two have a pretty strict policy about it. Though you’re in the same class and you chat occasionally in the halls - you tend to avoid Rin where you can. Originally, this made sense. For the sake of his comfort and yours, the best choice was sneaking to the roof together to eat where you could remain mostly undisturbed. 

As such, Rin has never been particularly consciousness of your presence in the classroom. For starters, you’re always somewhere. A busybody of the highest pedigree and always running errands - even if Rin were to try to talk to you he can only really find you 20 percent of the time. Secondly, unlike Rin, you have a handful of friends surrounding you. Rin has interacted with them very briefly but you (seemingly for his sake) try not to force him out of his comfort zone too much by making you all sit together. The most Rin has gotten from them is a single knowing smirk or glance. 

And lastly, before three weeks ago, it would’ve been a big problem if people started getting onto either of you about a relationship that didn’t exist. That would've been all around awkward and uncomfortable and maybe would’ve deterred your future endeavors with other guys. 

That was when you and Itoshi Rin were in fact not dating. 

Three weeks into your relationship and nothing much has changed, though nowadays you come over to his house on weekends where you can. You’ve even been on one date after his dad (of all people) hounded him about never taking you on a proper one. 

You text the same as you did before, and you call Rin a little more often. Usually for the purposes of rambling so much you tucker yourself out and fall asleep. 

But at school, Rin only really sees you for the spare minutes of lunch and not much more than that. He’s never really thought about it before. It was never enough of an issue to warrant his intervention. 

It’s not like he cares, okay? 

But he’s more aware of it, now - frustratingly enough. You really don’t see each other often enough in school and you have many more guy friends than he had ever considered before. Every time he catches you and Murata-senpai trekking down the hall he feels his blood pressure rise. 

You and Rin have both decided, though. Despite his posting of you, neither of you have confirmed the relationship. Rin is immune to the prying and you’re good at dodging it altogether. This is the agreement. 

It is therefore very irrational of him to be thinking of speaking up at this current moment in time. 

Despite your mutual decision to keep things as private as possible, Rin has heard nothing but gossip about the situation for weeks. Outside of the usual, direct kind of prying - there’s whispers and stares and all sorts of other things. Rin doesn’t care about it. He’s used to it, it’s part of the gig and the neo-egoist league made him near immune. 

It’s all the things directed at you that make him seethe. Misplaced jealousy and the disappointed remarks of guys in class that make him feel like his blood pressure is rising. The latter is what’s making him most irritated now. How fucking long are these idiots going to talk about this? 

“Dude, you had like three years to confess,” Some idiot, who’s name Rin doesn’t know is still yapping “If she’s actually dating Mr.Popular then it’s on you for fucking yourself over.” 

The other idiot in question groans, and Rin forces his face to remain impassive as he listens. He tries to stop listening. More than once, actually. But they just keep going. 

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it dude. Like there’s no way, right? He rejected every single girl who ever confessed to him. I thought she was safe. And now my highschool love is forever ruined.” 

Like he ever stood a chance. How ridiculous. 

Another one of the goons speaks up “Dunno. Neither of them have said anything right? You miss all of the shots you don’t take.” 

“Are you saying I should just confess to her anyway? She got posted on his Instagram dude.” 

A smirk appears on Extra Three’s face “No confirmation means fair game. Stop being pussy and do it.” 

“You think I stand a chance against that dude?” 

Rin can feel all three pairs' eyes hit him at once. 

“Nah. Not a chance. But you could always wait till she’s all heartbroken and comfort her, right? Hook, line, and sinker.” 

“I hear when girls are heartbroken they’re like way more likely to let you—” 

With that, Rin stands to his feet. He’s seething. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. He should definitely just leave to go cool his head but he’s so fucking angry it’s hard to sit still and he has no other way of dealing with his feelings. So he walks towards the table slowly, eyes darkened and just barely holding it in

He knows this is a bad idea. He can feel the whole classroom look at him as he slams his hand down on the desk. But he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with it later. 

“You’d be fucking lucky if my girlfriend ever looked your way.” 

As soon as Rin says it, there's a thud at the door-way of the classroom. When he looks up you’re there with your eyes widened. Rin just looks back, impassive and immune to the sudden uproar of whispers. 

He only clicks his teeth when you grab him by the sleeve of his uniform - cracking a small smile as he hears the faint words “Just give up dude.” as he leaves. 

__ 

Up on the roof top, you’re shaking Rin by the shoulders - visibly distressed. 

“Hey! What the hell was that?” 

“What.” He offers, not willing to budge on the situation. In the first place he’s a little irritated by all of it. And he’s a little irritated by how much you’ve been enforcing the no-talking rule. Right now, it really feels like he can’t take it anymore. 

You frown deeply, distress only growing as the time passes in uncomfortable silence. Rin doesn’t want to be civil about it. About it and about you and about those idiots. 

“We had an agreement!” You say, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, though it’s weak. He stares down at you. 

“So what?” 

“Rin, we talked about this. Don’t be like this.” 

“Like what.” 

“Pissy and weird. You’re being weird and I don’t like it. It’s making me sad.” 

“How am I being—” 

Before Rin can proceed with his sentence, he catches a glimpse of your face in the midst of his tantrum. Sad like a puppy who got its tail stepped on and about ready to cry, he immediately seals his mouth in fear of making it worse. 

“Why are you doing that?” He spits. 

“Doing what?”

“Being all sad and pathetic. Does it really bother you that much if people know we’re dating?” 

“It’s not like that.” You assure. 

“Then what is it?” Rin prods, frustrated but not wanting to make things worse “Why is it such a big deal?” 

There’s a bout of silence before you sigh. 

“Rin, you’re a huge soccer player. The people you’re dating and stuff - it’s a big deal,” 

Rin cuts you off. 

“That’s what you were worried about? My career?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“You’re stupid.” 

“Hey! I’m seriously worried about it and then you go and—” 

He gives you a frown. He forgets all too often you’re like this. He’s used to your silly and unserious way of talking, so it slips his mind that you’re actually a massively responsible person. You probably have a point about it, thinking of the consequences of your relationship through hell and back. With a detached sense of rationality - Rin can recognize that you’re probably thinking about more things than this. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so touchy of a subject. 

Nothing’s changed on paper, but everything will eventually. It’s something to think about, admittedly. 

Honestly Rin doesn’t care what strangers think. He’s blunt and unfriendly. Always has been, and will continue to be through the majority of his career he’s absolutely sure. Even outside of Bluelock, he has almost no regard for the opinions of other people and what concerns them. Maybe it’s irresponsible, but Rin isn’t playing soccer for the approval of the populace and nothing will ever change that. 

“If I thought that was something I should worry about, we wouldn’t be dating.” 

You look up at him. 

“You should be worried about it.” You emphasize. 

“I’m not. I don’t care what any of those people think.” 

“Then why’d you go and say something?” 

Rin seethes.

“They deserved it.” 

Your hand reaches for his cheek. He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at you. He leans into your touch instinctively, frustration eased by the sensation. You stare back. 

“Okay. We’ll announce it officially later, then.” 

“Do we even need to do that? If you tell three people, half of our grade’ll find out anyway.” 

“Are you saying my friends  gossip?” 

He doesn’t reply to that. You pout at him and Rin fights the urge to kiss you. There’s a beat of silence as you give him a hug - the two of you on the same roof you always are. Rin doesn’t mind it, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. 

“You know, it’s gonna get busy for me soon.” You mumble. So this is what else you were worrying about. “And for you. I have my entrance exam and the school is in Tokyo. And you’re gonna go back to Bluelock and—” 

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried about it anyways.” 

“About what?” 

“I’ll see you less. What if you stop liking me randomly and I can’t even hunt you down about it?” 

Rin huffs “You’re insane enough to find me,” He drops his chin on your shoulder “Plus you talk to my mom.” 

“You’re gonna be so busy.” 

“I’ll come see you when I’m not.” 

“And you’re going to be surrounded by the human equivalent of siren women someday soon.” 

“I don’t care about that.” 

“But you might.” 

“I haven’t in eighteen years, you moron.” 

“I’m gonna miss you all the time.” You say, sniffly and Rin is so struck with a feeling of affection he almost falls “I already miss you all the time.” 

He squeezes you a little tighter “It’ll be fine.”

“For you.” 

Rin furrows his brow, pulling back to stare at you. 

“Not for me,” Because Rin can begrudgingly admit he will miss you worse than this “Just in general. It’ll be fine. You almost made it a year without me.” 

“But now I’m with you,” You reply easily, and softly and oh-so in love Rin wants to turn away “And I’m so happy and I want it be like this for a long time,”

“Just a long time? Not something stupid like a blossoming eternity?” 

“I thought I’d scare you.” 

“You did that in April.” He points out flatly. You hit him lightly but smile anyway. 

“It’s a problem how much I like you.” 

Rin likes you just as much. You’re probably too much of an idiot to realize and won’t for a long while. He takes a little comfort in, strangely.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll come see you.” He says again, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He believes in it thoroughly. If Rin were a better, more candidly vulnerable person he thinks now he’d give the loving boyfriend speech. He almost wants to half-assedly try but can’t bring himself to get past the awkwardness. He hugs you tighter because it’s all he’s capable of, and hopes he can will it into you. The sincerity of his words, he wants so badly for them to reach you “Stop worrying so much.” 

“Rin-kun,” You start, then pause to look up at him. His breath hitches “Rin. I love you. Really.” 

He feels like he’s gonna be sick as he stares at you, eyes widened. You look the same as you always do. Unexpectant, terribly sincere, with your heart on your sleeve. The more Rin knows you, the more he thinks it can’t be easy to be so vulnerable all the time. 

So you do it for him, and only him. And Rin is always going to be intolerable. Frustrating and impatient. But he wants to do it for you too, where he can. Rin wants you to know it’ll be fine because the fact that you’re standing here now is nothing short of a miracle. Nothing comes out right. 

“Yeah.” He says, but he can’t get the rest of words out. And you laugh, and peek up at him through your lashes. 

“And you love me too, don’t you?” 

Rin grits his teeth. He wants to say no. 

“I guess.” 

“And we’re going to be just fine.” You repeat, hugging him tight. Rin hugs you back. He wants to say thank you. He wants to kiss you stupid and make fun of you at the same time. He wants you so much and so often he’s sure he’s lost his fucking mind. 

But he agrees with you, at least. He nods. He holds you. He doesn’t like to lie, so he looks at you instead. 

“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.” 

__

EPILOGUE ; 

In Rin’s defense, he’s not trying to listen in on the conversions of your underclassmen. 

For starters, the club door is cracked up and Rin only has one airpod fully charged. Secondly, it’s not like they’re being quiet. Rin’s pretty sure anyone with decent enough hearing could hear them from down the hall. Given that it’s the newspaper club, he’s sure that the conversation isn’t usually this interesting. 

It’s just when he catches wind of your name while you’re nowhere to be found, he finds himself eavesdropping just a little. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, face tucked into his black mask and hat pulled neatly over his head. 

“Guys, I’ve decided I’m going to confess to Boss  no matter what.” 

He must mean you. Rin often hears how some of the people in the club affectionately add danchou to the end of your name. Rin scoffs a little at the kids' confidence. It reminds him a little of highschool. Rin really think you’re at more of a risk than he is. Being a celebrity makes him naturally unattainable - more of a fixture than a person. 

Everytime someone confesses to you though it’s sincere. From knowing you. And he gets it but it doesn’t keep him from scoffing and turning his nose up. 

“It’d be a good idea to give up while you’re ahead.” Says another unnamed voice. 

“Yeah Nakao-san. Do you even know who Senpai's boyfriend is?” 

“N-no. But it doesn’t matter. Through the powerful of love I’ll—”

Before Rin gets a chance to listen anymore, he hears your voice call out for him. He snaps his head up to look at you. You’re dressed so professionally it’s hard to recognize you like that. Your hair is cut neat and styled professionally and you’re dressed in business casual. He’s relieved he brought shoes for you to change into. 

You run up to him anyway, and Rin stands up to make sure you don’t stumble as you throw your arms around his neck. You’re closer in height with your heels on so he doesn’t have to bend down much at all to kiss you. He pulls down his mask quickly.

“Rin-tan, you’re here.” You say with a soft, breathless giggle “I missed youuu.” 

“Missed you too,” He says, an arm squeezed around your waist “I have shoes for you in the car,”

You gasp, rubbing your cheek against his affectionately. 

“You’re the best in the world. My feet are so sore.” 

“Did the interview go well?” Rin asks. You pull away, moving your hair away from your eyes before nodding. 

“Uh-huh. The women's rugby team captain is super chill and she interviews great so it went smoothly. I just need to drop the transcript off and then we can leave,” You say holding his hand. He squeezes your palms “Do you want to meet them? You don’t have to but a lot of them ask about you.” 

Normally Rin would say no. But he’s feeling a little petty today, after all. 

“Sure.” 

You beam, your hand in his as you nudge the door open. The room goes silent, a bout of excited cheering following at your return. He’s relieved to see you’re still so well loved, a little reluctant to let go of your hand. 

“Senpai, you’re back.” 

“Yup, yup. I have the transcript and recording on this USB. Watch it and draft the article up tonight. When I come in tomorrow, we’ll go through editing and get it out by Monday.” You say, hand on hip before remembering his presence. You grab him and Rin follows “Oh, and guys - this is my boyfriend! Rin Itoshi.” 

Most of them seem to know. Rin can sense the admiration but it’s respectful. He can tell that everyone is professionals in the field. Rin likes that. He bows politely. 

“Nice to meet everyone,” 

“Nice to meet you too, Itoshi-san.” 

“Danchou…you’re dating Rin Itoshi…the famous soccer player Rin Itoshi?” 

You giggle, looping your arm in Rin’s. He laughs internally. It’s the same kid who wanted to confess to you. 

“Uh-huh. We’re highschool sweethearts! And today is our very special date night so don’t contact me for any reason until tomorrow morning at least. I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Bye, senpai.” 

“Have fun on your date.” 

With that, you turn the corner and leave the room - immediately beginning to ramble about your day. Rin half-listens. He only pays complete attention when he hears your kouhais talking from down the hall. 

“Told you to give up, dude.” 

“Rin. Are you paying attention?” 

He chuckles to himself. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

❁ a/n ; hello!! me again. first of alll, if you read through this whole fic, thank you so much. second of all i want to discuss a few things about this fic.

im usually pretty keen on localization for my fics where possible because i think it makes for a smoother reader experience - however the usage of honorifics was important to the atmosphere for this one so i'll hope it wasn't too awkward to read.

secondly, im nervous about rins characterization for this one so i hope it was alright. apologies for any errors its 5am and im soo tired.

this fic was mostly meant as an exploration of how i think rin would really benefit from being with someone eccentric and bubbly. the core of their relationship is that reader is an overall emotionally intelligent and honest person and how that has a huge influence on rin so i hope that growth came thru. once again thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed. rbs and tags always appreciated!

[enhas-pov]

enemies by blood

summary: born in a mafia family definitely wasn’t easy. especially when your dad’s enemy’s son, park sunghoon goes to your school. reader and sunghoon grew up hating each other due to their father’s bad past with each other, but what’s gonna happen when they want their kids to finish what they started?

warnings: (gang)violence, lots of fighting, murder, blood, drugs, money laundering, guns, kissing, usage of "oppa", pet names, bad ending

word count: 4.5k

note: i haven’t read through it‼️ ignore spelling mistakes

pt.2

════════════════════════

my whole life i`ve felt like an outsider. people always look at me weird, they give me dirty looks, but at the same time theyre afraid of me. all because of my family.. my dad to be specific. since before i was born, my dad has been a part of this mafia gang thingy where drugs, guns, killing, and all of that stuff was involved. so growing up i was taught most of those things. id say im pretty good at fighting, and using guns. my mom on the other hand died when i was 10, she was killed by some guy that my dad was having problems with.. ive never met someone who can relate to me whatsover, except for park sunghoon.

sunghoon goes to the same school as me and grew up exactly like i did, and when i say exactly i mean EXACTLY. his dad is a part of a mafia gang too, so sunghoon grew up involved with that as well just like i did, and guess what? his mom got killed by a guy his dad was having problems with as well. if you put two and two together.. my dad killed sunghoons mom so sunghoon`s dad killed my mom, which is one of the reasons why sunghoon and i grew up hating each other.

my dad told me that him and mr. park used to be a part of the same gang, they were actually really close friends until something happened between the two of them that ruined their friendship and caused them to turn on each other. basically, my dad and mr. park were planning a huge drug deal, but for some reason mr. park tipped off the cops to make sure all the money made off the drug deal would be his, so when my dad got arrested for it he spent 10 years in prison. and when he got out he killed sunghoons mom as revenge, but when mr. park killed my mom for revenge because of his wife`s death, it made things worse between the two.

i was sat in the backseat of the fancy car i was driven to school with everyday by my dads personal driver, min. i was not allowed to walk to school and especially not alone. my dad told me there are people who know about me and that since im his daughter they kinda want me dead.. which is understandable? i guess, considering the kind of shit my dad does to these people. "were here, miss y/l/n" my driver says, parked right in front of my school. "thank you-" i was two seconds away from getting out of the car before i was stopped by my drivers very concerned voice. "wait, mr. park is right behind us. would you like to wait?" i rolled my eyes at his words, not giving a care in the world about park fucking sunghoon. "i`m okay. thank you, min"

the second i made my way out of the car i was met with sunghoons tall figure stood not too far behind me. he threw a glare at me that i quickly returned which he rolled his eyes at. as we both started walking to the entryway of our school, we were pretty much walking next to each other, obviously, since we were going the same way. "thought the teacher told you to cover up?" he suddenly says, referring to my choice of clothing, his eyes looking straight ahead as hes avoiding any and all eye contact with me.

"you were the one who went complaining to our teacher about it, acting like what i was wearing wasn’t making your dick hard" he only chuckled at my words. once we reached the entryway, he opened the door and stood to the side. he grinned, "ladies first" he said. i gave him a fake smile and walked through the open door. right as he was about to walk in from behind me, i slammed the door shut in his face and locked it so he couldn`t get in no matter what. i watched him banging on the door and yelling at me to open it. "oppa! i think the back door is open" i said loud enough for him to hear, knowing its a good 5 minute walk to get there. i laughed at how furious he was before making my way to class.

i guess you could say me and sunghoon act childish with each other sometimes. we argue a lot over dumb, unnecessary and small shit for no reason. we could choose to ignore each other but since i have it out for him and he has it out for me, its hard not to say anything every time we come across each other. we`re not exactly like our dads. we dont pull a gun on each other every time we cross paths, but do not get me wrong. there are times when our silly little arguments have evolved and turned into something much bigger causing a physical fight ending in blood and injuries. but its always been between just the two of us, we`ve never involved our dads or anything because we seem to just handle it on our own.

"i hope everyone here studied for their exams, you had all week and i will be disappointed in you if you fail" our teacher was walking around and placing the exam papers on each one of our desks. suddenly, at the sound of the door being slammed open, everyone turned their heads just to see sunghoon standing by the door looking pissed. "mr. park! it is one thing to come late to my class to take your exam, but its another thing to slam my door open and interrupt me" watching our teacher yell at sunghoon really made my day, especially the embarassed look on his face which made me smile to myself.

"im sorry, miss. i had to come in through the back door since-" before he could rat me out, he got cut off by our teacher who decided to yell at him once again. "i don`t want to hear it mr. park. take your seat and be quiet" sunghoon glared at me silently before he made his way to his desk which just happened to be right next to mine. i was expecting him to start throwing childish insults at me, but to my surprise he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him in complete silence. odd, but i couldnt be bothered to start anything during our exams.

"you guys have 1 hour to finish your exams starting from now" the room went completely quiet once everyone turned their heads down and started writing down on the piece of paper. i was focused on my exam until i felt something press down on my foot. confused, i look underneath my desk to see that its someone whos pressing down on my foot with their own. of course when i look up to see who it is, its sunghoon. hes not looking at me as his eyes are stuck to the paper in front of him, instead he uses his pen to point at a tiny note right next to his paper. i can see that theres something written on it, but since i couldnt make it out i decided to lean over his table a bit. squinting my eyes, i read the words "shouldn`t have locked me out pretty thing" pretty thing? really? is he referring to me as a thing? what an ass..

"miss. ___ is looking at my papers" wait, what?! i look up at sunghoon whos smirking at me, ew.. before turning to our teacher who looks like shes actually about to kill me.

"miss, i wasn’t-"

"i dont want to hear it! detention now, miss y/l/n"

fucking unbelievable. if im gonna miss my exam and end up in detention, you sure as hell know sunghoon will too. i tried not to lose my shit, grabbing my backpack before "accidentally" tripping over sunghoons desk which kinda revealed a bit of my behind to everyone in class. "miss! sunghoon just tripped me on purpose.." i said, acting all shy and embarrassed about how my skirt flipped over. "shes fucking lying!" sunghoon stood up from his desk and i could tell he was gonna lash out on me.

"am not! you tripped me over that desk on purpose you fucking pervert-"

"watch your mouth you lying piece of shit!"

while me and sunghoon were lashing out on each other, we didn`t notice how our teacher was red in the face like she was about to explode out of anger. "that`s enough! you guys are grown enough to know not to be using that sort of language, nor to be arguing like little kids! you should know to act better. detention for the both of you right now!" she yelled in our faces while everyone else were sat staring at us awkwardly.

both me and sunghoon were now sat in detention. we also just happened to be the only ones here, along with a teacher tho.. sunghoon was sat on the other side of the classroom as he wished to not be near me at all, which i’m glad for. i was scrolling through my phone when the teacher suddenly got up from the chair he was sat on. “alright. i’ve got a wife and kids to get home to, so you two better behave on your own until school is finished” and then he left just like that, leaving me and sunghoon all alone. "cant believe i`m missing my exam because of you.." i spat, breaking the silence. "maybe if you hadn`t locked me out i wouldn`t have done what i did. besides, the stunt you pulled really just proves my point. you really are a slut-" and this is usually how our fights start.

gripping the book in my hands that was on my desk, i quickly threw it in sunghoons direction and his instincts kicked in instantly. he dodged the book which flew right past his head, hitting the wall with a harsh thud that left a noticeable mark. "nice try princess" he pushed his desk to the side and began walking towards me as he was visibly angry. i ducked as fast as i could when he swung his fist at me. i felt a rush of air across my face that his fist had missed. "a man hitting a woman? that`s not very man-like of you" i twisted my body as i attempted to throw a kick at his knee, but sunghoon was quick to jump back which resulted in my foot connecting with the wall instead. "fuck!"

"dont hurt yourself now" sunghoon smirked before his next punch successfully caught me across my cheek, causing a sharp pain which made me stumble backwards. suck it up.. i launched myself forward and managed to tackle him down. with sunghoon on the ground, i was now straddling him with my fists positioned in the air right above his face. we were both breathing heavily as sunghoon struggled to get away from underneath me. "are you getting weaker, park sunghoon?" i asked, lowering my fists before getting back up on my feet. "youre saying that as if you didnt take the most damage" he panted, sitting himself up against the wall. "yet i`m not the one whos out of breath" i grabbed my backpack and made my way out of the classroom as i couldn`t be bothered to deal with his bullshit anymore, and i could feel his eyes on me as i walked out.

"dad! im home" i walked into the kitchen with no sight of my dad. i jumped when i saw my dads personal driver sat at the kitchen table. "min? you scared me. wheres dad?" i sat down next to him, placing my backpack on the floor. "your dad is currently in a meeting, hell be back soon. how did your exam go?" i watched him eat his food as i had no idea what to say to that. "couldnt have gone better.." i lied. he hummed, "if youre wondering, then no, i didn`t tell your dad i saw you and mr. park having a conversation on your way inside" i furrowed my eyebrows at him. why did he think he had to keep something like that away from my dad? we weren`t exactly saying positive things to each other, unless he thinks..

"ew, no! its most definitely not like that. we do talk sometimes, but its just shit talking about each other to each others faces" i said, not missing the way he threw me a look that screamed "i don`t believe you". i rolled my eyes playfully,

"i do not like sunghoon whatsoever-"

"i`d hope so"

i heard a voice say. turning around, i saw my dad walking into the kitchen with a lot of papers in his hands. "min, these are for you" he handed him a few of the papers which min accepted and thanked him for before he got up from his chair. i watched my dad sit down on the chair min was just sat on, "what did i hear you talking about just now?" he questioned, placing the rest of the papers on the table in front of him as he started going through them one by one.

"my exam" i said, which wasn`t completeley a lie. he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows before looking back at his papers. "i was meaning to talk to you about sunghoon" what? why sunghoon out of all people? "you were..?" i asked, feeling myself getting a little nervous. "you know, sunghoon is no different from his father. he`s just as bad as him" i hummed as i was trying not to show how desperate i was for him to get to the point. "i was originally planning on doing this myself, but i figured that it would be a better for you to do it, since you "do not like sunghoon whatsoever""

"well, ur right about that. what is it that you want me to do dad?" he paused before he took a deep breath. he turned to me slightly and placed his hand on my shoulder, "sweetheart". he finally said as curiosity started taking over me. he hesitated for a second and it kinda freaked me out. was this gonna be some sort of arranged marrige? did he know about our fight today? or maybe- "i want you to kill sunghoon" what?! kill sunghoon..? i’d lie if i say i didn`t hate him, but ive never gone as far as to actually wanting to murder him.. i never have, never will, never wanted to and never planned on taking someone’s life, even if it`s someone who i despise.

“i know i’m asking for a lot-“

“asking for a lot? dad, you’re asking me to take someone’s life..”

“sweetheart, i know. but unfortunately this isn’t a choice” i watched him in horror as no words were able to leave my mouth. “you will do what i’m asking you to do. you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, right?” he stood up from his chair, looking down on me demanding that i give him an answer. “y-yes dad..” i managed to get out, not bothering to look at him. “very well then” his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. i can’t kill sunghoon.. but i have to? no. i don’t have to, i think? it’s what my dad wants me to do, does that mean i should? murder is wrong, but sunghoon is a bad person. does sunghoon deserve to die? shit..

“you want me to kill ___?” sunghoon’s dad had delivered the exact same news to his son. “that’s right. she’s no different from her father” sunghoon knew that what his father was asking him for was wrong. he couldn’t bring himself to kill ___, even tho he hated her he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“dad.. i don’t know if i can-“

“don’t start with me son. when i tell you to do something, you do it. don’t act like it’ll be hard, she’s a woman after all”

a woman who could easily beat my ass.. sunghoon thought to himself. “yes father” he said. “very well then” he watched his father walk out of the room, what was he gonna do now? should he kill her just because his father told him to do so? the guilt would be with him for the rest of his life if he did. but he wouldn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him, right?

“we’re here, miss y/l/n” min said, parked in front of my school. “thank you..” i made my way out of the car and prayed to god that i wouldn’t bump into sunghoon. a whole day had gone by and i still needed to process everything. i looked around as i made my way to the entryway with no sign of sunghoon, and i was relieved when i finally reached the door. but before i could open it myself, someone had opened it from the inside. looking up, my heart dropped at the sight of sunghoon stood in front of me. i swallowed nervously as we were both stood staring at each other in complete silence.

i tried to move past him, and so did he which caused our bodies to push up against each other. “sorry..” sorry? why the fuck did i apologize? “it’s alright..” he mumbled, moving to the side so i could walk past him. not wanting to make things even more awkward, i quickly walked past him and hurried my way over to class. wait, but.. why was sunghoon acting weird as well? maybe something happened and he was dealing with a personal matter.. don’t know, don’t care. he’ll be dead soon anyway.

i’m getting ready to start working out in what my dad calls "the den" its basically this underground gym/boxing place where my dad trains along with his men, but i usually show up after they’ve all left since i like being on my own. i had put on some black shorts and a white top that hung off my shoulder on one side. i reached for a hair tie and gathered all of my hair, putting it up in a high ponytail while some strands in the front were left loose. i then carefully started wrapping my hands in hand wraps and flexing my fingers afterwards. turning to the punching bag, i was getting ready to start my usual everyday practising, but that was until i heard footsteps coming from behind me. it was weird since i thought everyone had left, but when i turned around i was at a loss of words.

"how’d you get in here..?" my voice shook, watching sunghoons tall figure leaning against the door to the entryway. "wasn’t that hard. my men took out yours in the front pretty easily" he smirked at me, fidgeting with the gun in his hands. "you can’t bring a gun to a fist fight. thats why my men lost" one by one, i watched his men gather around him; all carrying guns. "this can go two ways" he said as he started walking towards me slowly "either it’ll just be the two of us and i’ll make it quick and painless, or ill have to bring my men on it and i guarantee that it’s gonna hurt" he was stood right in front of me while looking down on me with his head tilted slightly.

was sunghoon planning on killing me too? was he doing this because he somehow found out that i was planning on killing him first? there wasn’t enough time for me to think. right now i had to focus on just one thing, and that was to live. "did your men forget to take out the ones in the back too?" i watched the smirk on his lips disappear as my men started to gather around me as they had come in through the back. all though, they weren`t armed with guns like sunghoons men were which made me really nervous. sunghoon chuckled and began walking backwards until he was stood behind his men. i pulled the same move, which meant that our men were now gonna fight against each other to protect me and sunghoon.

"seems like you can’t face us without your guns" one of my men said who was stood in the very front. sunghoons men laughed, "let’s be fair about it then, shall we?" the sound of guns being thrown on the floor made me feel relieved. suddenly, the den exploded into chaos as our men went at each other with fists flying and bodies colliding. the men’s shouting and grunting filled the entire room while me and sunghoon were stood on each sides of the room watching them.

one of my men collapsed on the ground, but before he could get back up two men tripped over him which added to the pile of bodies that were already sprawled out across the floor. the den was a mess of sweaty, bloody, injured men that had mostly been beaten to death by each other. it went by faster than i expected, and worse than i expected. all that remained were either dead bodies or knocked out bodies with no one left standing except for me and sunghoon.

"what’s the matter princess? is this too much for you?" the sound of sunghoon’s voice brought me back to reality. i was distracted by the violent scene that was right in front of me. i took a deep breath, "nothing is too much for me" i said with my eyes looking straight at him from across the room. sunghoon looked at the gun in his hands before he threw it on the ground. "like my men said, lets be fair about it" he said, placing his hands in his pockets. "you can use the gun you know? i dont mind, since this will be your last fight after all.." the tension between us was heated. sunghoon only laughed at me, "give it all you’ve got baby" with each slow step, he was now walking towards me. "don’t call me that" i spat.

he paused dangerously close to me, our bodies almost making contact. "come on baby, don’t say that" he brought his hand up to my face, but i was quick to slap his hand away with mine. with no warning, sunghoon`s fist landed with a severse thud against my ribs and i felt the force knock my breath out of me. i whimpered when i was sent stumbling into a nearby table, gripping the edge of the table for balance. i wasted no time and launched myself back at him with a kick that grazed his shoulder. he let out a groan, quickly grabbing my leg and twisting it viciously.

i let out a cry as i fell to the floor. when sunghoon tried to get on top of me, i managed to wrench my leg free by kicking at his chest with my other foot. as he stumbled backwards, i got back up on my feet as fast as i could. we were both breathing heavily and our bodies were hot with sweat. "shit princess. you’re getting better at this" he panted, lifting his fists into the air. "thank you. it means a lot coming from you, oppa" i rushed forward, this time going low so i could tackle him. the second we both crashed onto the cold floor we started wrestled fiercly. our bodies were rolling on the floor as we tried to overpower each other.

suddenly, his hands found my neck. i felt his fingers squeezing as he pressed down. my eyes widened in panic and my hands quickly went flying to his wrists; clawing at them, desperate for air. i dug my nails into his skin until it started drawing blood. he hissed in pain and ended up loosening his grip just enough for me to shove him off. i started coughing and gasping for air before kicking him hard in his chest which caused him to also gasp for air when he felt himself not being able to breathe properly.

i charged at him once again, this time aiming my elbow at his face. he barley was able to block it with his forearm before i grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. "fuck!" he groaned, retaliating by grabbing my own hair and pulling it so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "a-ah!" i let out a shriek. we were both struggling while using the grip on each others hair to cause each other pain. with a sudden move, sunghoon yanked my head to the side and slammed my head into the wall causing my grip on his hair to loosen. my chest was rising and falling, my body sprawled out on the floor with my hair being a tangled mess. my head was pounding horribly and i couldnt bare the pain i was feeling in my body.

sunghoon took the chance and got on top of me. he leaned down with his face so close to mine that the tip of our noses were touching. i felt his heavy breath against my lips before slightly flinching at the feeling of metal against my temple. his eyes looked into mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "this is the end for you baby" he mumbled before he cocked the gun. sunghoon raised his eyebrows when i sniffled. our eyes were locked in an intense gaze. he clenched his jaw slightly, the gun in his hand shaking when he tried pressing it further into my temple. i stood still, watching every move that he was making.

"kiss me goodbye?" i said, almost sounding like a whisper. he froze like he couldnt believe what had just come out of my mouth. his grip on the gun loosened, just for a second as if he was questioning whether to kill me or not. he stared at me with his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unsure if i was joking or not. with the way i was looking into his eyes he could tell i was being serious when a tear rolled down my cheek. i leaned forward, my bloodied lips parting before they touched his. the kiss was soft as our lips moved together. i felt him deepening the kiss, parting his mouth as well. and with his lips still on mine, he pulled the trigger.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

i feel horrible i’m so sorry.. should i make it into a series orrr??

[blorbocedes]

very sorry. I am your $400 a person dinner party anon and in hindsight I do see where that ask kinda didn't come across the right way. apologies on that. I'm a waitress and wine professional and I do make pretty decent money but it isn't crazy. Idk. Fine dining is my hobby like gaming or cosplay and cons or f1 tickets are for some people. so yeah. I spend what many people would consider dumb money on food. it's what I'm passionate about. Mostly I guess I don't really understand why people are getting so pressed about 5k on dinner for 20 (ive have served dinner parties for far more for far fewer people) when every single one of those guys shows up in 5k outfits every day. this time the is discourse was on my pet topic and I went into your inbox to complain which was a dick move. rip my internet etiquette.

hi anon. I appreciate the self reflection. let me try to explain where I was coming from. so I saw a reel of valtteri saying the dinner cost €5000 and the number struck to me cause that's my entire personal savings and they had it for dinner. which is why i made the post of being from different planets.

you ask why ppl got pressed over the dinner when they routinely wear designer outfits that's more expensive - true! they do. I don't think I can physically comprehend charles wearing that 2 million dollar watch he has. but we're all accustomed to designer clothes costing an insane amount and an outfit has more utility - you can wear it multiple times. a dinner is a One Time Meal, and maybe some of us will never own designer but we all have had dinner. which makes it an easier reference point to compare.

so when you said in my inbox you spend $500 at expensive resturant for dinner, you're essentially telling me you spend 10% of my life savings on dinner. it came across as humble bragging.

I get that the service industry in america is not respected and you wouldn't consider yourself rich and maybe by your standards you're not but if you read through the notes of my post, of people talking about how that dinner costs more than their tuition or year's rent or salary it's just the incredible wealth gulf between the first world and second/third. and then there's the ultra rich (atheletes). ppl who buy f1 tickets or can spend a bunch at cons or fine dining are actually not the rest of the world

and although it probably is the standard amount for fine dining for the first world wealthy and you wanted to inform us of that, your comment came across as a little tone deaf. we all know f1 drivers are rich, this isn't new info, it's seeing your car payment or years rent being spent on a single dinner that contextualises just how rich they are.

I hope you understand this is nothing personal, I don't Know you beyond the 2 messages you sent. pls don't feel the need to apologize again, we've all made gaffes on the internet. I appreciate your self reflection and I hope this explains my side of it

PS. do still donate to the Gaza soup kitchen if you can. it's genuinely a good cause and feeds so many, and US dollar goes so far

[meddwlyngymraeg]

I'd love to hear some more happy sounding Welsh songs! can be any genre. also any songs about the sea! diolch!!

Shwmae! Amazingly, you are the literal target audience for Ynys' first album ('Ynys', 2022). Dylan Hughes is from Aberystwyth and spent many years in Cardiff and found himself longing for the seaside he grew up in, and when he finally started writing music as Ynys (he used to be in a cool indie psychedelic band called Race Horses too, if that's your thing), he put together a whole album only to realise how much of it is about the sea. I mean, his band is literally called Ynys (Island)!

Also, he has that wonderful, lush psychedelic pop sound, which I think sounds pretty happy musically, though there are definitely some themes of longing, being lost, culture and language, all that good stuff thrown in too. It's complex, but I still feel it's quite a happy listen!

So some songs from the album I'd recommend - Môr Du (Black Sea), Welcome to the Island (now technically this is an instrumental, don't know where that sits!), There's Nothing The Sea Doesn't Know.

My personal favourite off the album is Caneuon (‘Songs’, references the Gorky's Zygotic Mynci song 'Gegin Nos'—more on them in a sec—and also a pretty happy/reminiscing/wistful song), but the whole album is quite good, and their recent second album Dosbarth Nos also has some lovely songs that lift my mood at least— Aros Amdanat Ti, Gyda Ni, Dosbarth Nos. Also the sea references continue!

I'm linking their Bandcamp page rather than a Spotify because Dylan makes sure to include lyrics and translations on there (and in physical liner notes), if you or anyone else reading this was interested in going into the lyrics! (Also I usually feel like I should give people the option to directly support musicians if they feel inclined, where Spotify pays not even cents for most music.) But these two albums are on streaming if you'd like too!

I've also gotta recommend some Gorky's! Their 1997 album's called Barafundle, named after Barafundle Beach, and while I don't think any of the songs are directly about the sea itself (except like The Barafundle Bumbler, which uh. Your mileage may vary. It’s about a voyeur bloke that sits by the seaside on said beach), but there's Diamond Dew which is such a lovely tune, and while not about the sea, Patio Song (i.e. everyone's favourite Gorky's song) has that lovely outro of 'it is raining, so take my hand, the winter's so long, it takes so much of the earth'. ☔️🌧🌈 Happy music, some of Gorky's work! (Personal fave off the album: Starmoonsun <3)

(Also this song's in English but since we're talking about Gorky's I can't not recommend Spanish Dance Troupe. Gorgeous song.)

There's also the super cool Adwaith, who wrote the song Lan Y Môr. This song is actually a lot older than the album it ended up on, 2022's Welsh Music Prize winning Bato Mato, Adwaith are still the only musicians to win the Prize twice. They wrote the song and released it as a single back in early 2020 and it was following a run of really cool punky Cymraeg singles. Love Adwaith, they're quite cool.

Edit: HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN. The queen of the beaches. Gwenno herself. I guess I hadn’t included her because this isn’t technically a Welsh language album (save for one song, N.Y.C.A.W. (Nid Yw Cymru Ar Werth)). Gwenno is half-Welsh, half-Cornish, and this album was basically written down at St. Ives. This does sound like it, and I love this song Anima!

Hope you like these! People can totally feel free to add on in the notes if I’ve missed something!

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

Dead Boy Detectives x Slugterra Crossover

i promised i would and ive only just gotten enough time to post it here lmao. this post is just gonna be the boys, since i've got the most info on them but i would be overjoyed to post the rest of what i have. so, without further ado, enjoy this mess of my special interests and hyperfixations colliding. (DBD folks if you need reference help, click here)

Character Backstories

Edwin’s Story

His parents were never particularly attentive or caring. Neither of them paid him any kind of attention. He spent most days on his own. Most of them he spent in a library or the wild, learning as much as he possibly could to satiate his curiosity. He found a love for magic and myths, even more so relating to the Shadow Clan. So, he had adventures to try and find any place relating to the Clan. On one such adventure, he stumbled across a group of hunters prowling the woods. He heard them muttering about finding the Enigmo that had been spotted and he immediately perked up. He knew all about the Enigmo, but he also knew what the hunters would do if they found it. So he sprinted around the woods, keeping his keen eyes peeled for a flash of turquoise. And he found it. As it fell from high above him and hit him at velocity. The blurring of his vision frightened him, but he grabbed the slug and tucked it into his pocket. As he snuck out of the forest, he noticed colors surrounding the slugs of the hunters. He realized that he was seeing their auras, an idea he’d found during his many hours of research. Thankfully, the bullies at his school had taught him how to be stealthy, even with doubled vision. He used one of his father’s spare blasters to fire the Enigmo and undo his vision. The slug was affectionate, if slightly clumsy. It was a welcome change to his parents’ uncaring attitude. He named his new companion Thoth, the god of knowledge. A year or so later, he would meet Charles. They became immediate friends, always sharing their ideas and days, a pattern they continued into adulthood. 

Charles’ Story

As a boy, his father was abusive. He was allowed nothing. Even when the other boys his age were befriending and collecting their first slugs, he was forbidden it. One day, his father locked him out for some reason or another. With a bruise on his face, he wandered around to waste time until he could return home. He met an Armashelt. She stuck to him, even when he tried to tell her that he was just a failure. They became fast friends. When he did eventually return home, his father threw his new friend out and slammed the door. During the night, however, she snuck back in through his window. Time and again, his father threw her out and time and again, she snuck back in. However, he never truly had a chance to name her. One day, his father was in a drunken rage and Charles ran away. Out in the forest, the young boy met Edwin. Despite their differences, they became best friends immediately. When Edwin spotted the Armashelt, he asked her name. Charles was sad to say she didn’t have one. So they discussed it. When asked what he liked about her, he said that he admired how she was a shield in many ways. The few times she had met velocity was when the other boys were bullying him. When velocimorphs flew at him, she had dug in her claws and used her shell to shield him. Edwin suggested the name Aegis, the shield of the gods, and Charles thought it was brills. The two would often sneak away together, staying friends into adulthood.

Character Info

Edwin

Uses strategic/magic type slugs

Knows Shadow Clan Language, loves researching their history and magic

Main is an Enigmo named Thoth 

Works as a researcher, rarely seen outside of his home or Shadow Territory

Charles

Uses heavy hitters like Rammstone, Hoprock, Tazerling

Main is an Armashelt named Aegis

Works with blaster and Mecha customization and repair

Other Information

The boys have Frightgeist siblings they bonded with together

They boys made accelerators and fusion models together

Standard Teams (plus pics for the uninitiated) (no megas for this post but they do get them)

Edwin

Enigmo (Main)

Frightgeist

Geoshard

Arachnet

Slicksilver

White Boon Doc

Charles

Armashelt (Main)

Frightgeist

Forgesmelter

Rammstone

Hop Rock

Tazerling

i am cooking up a way to imitate edwin's hell story but this the basics so far. honestly, its so much fun to get back into this show so i might have to rewatch a bit for nostalgia. so, if my DBD people havent watched slugterra, you should! and if slugterra peeps havent watched DBD, you should do that too!!

[v-anrouge]

This is a queued post and it includes talks about transphobia and mentions of self harm and eating disorders

Im here to talk and announce a break, first thing's first j relapsed, in literally like everything sh ed and didn't try to kill myself is because of a few people and the fact my pills ended. For a very long time in this blog u have not been feeling like human, it's like most of you don't even actually like and just come talk to me when im being funny and fun or when i post something rook related that you like, ive really been trying to get rid of that feeling but it keeps on coming back and it's unbearable to be in this blog at this point. this situation with Shiba only really confirmed it for me, I saw about like 4 mutuals referring to this as drama, and complaining about seeing it on dash and while obviously you have all the rights to be displeased with a constant show of negativity in your dash, i beg of you to try and think how i, a trans man, must feel seeing you refer to me and other mutuals calling out transphobia and have to read you refer to this as drama and not as a literal crime. I understand if you got annoyed by me talking about it constantly and to that i ask that you please block me, because i have been literally beaten, bullied, harassed and even doxxed by transphobes, I do not take anything that displays even a bit of prejudice against my trans siblings lightly, hence why i was so "histerical and obsessed" and was being so "stupid and acting like an idiot" as someone people would claim. I do not care what view you have of me i really don't, im used to this shit, ive been trans and alive in the most transphobic country for 20 years, it's no news, but it still hurts. And it hurts even more when I see someone say i was an idiot for blocking someone immediately and calling them out when they side with a transphobe, and it hurts even more when I see a person i thought liked me complain about "drama still going on" rest assured that i won't be "bitching" about it any longer

For soru, who cant possibly process why i have blocked you, your take on that situation and your friend have both brought me terrible flashbacks of my own past as a child dealing with transphobia, of being told people like me are sick and are the seeds of the devil and that we are animals or that there's something wrong with us, like your friend said, their apology is both not genuine and extremely poorly made as they still can't accept the fact that yes, they are transphobic, and you soru, can't imagine how it broke my soul to see your post saying you had given them a chance, but seeing the post you made after, in which you literally agree with your mother you should've stayed away from trans people, that's what broke me the most, and j couldn't even speak about it, because it's "too negative" or im "drama chasing" im sick of this, you can hate and insult me all you want soru rest assured you're not the only one you're not the first nor the last one, maybe this will come off as a surprise to the people that are sure im obsessed with drama and chasing people around but i genuinely did have a lot of respect for you, if the hours ive spent crying over this say anything at all, it's sad that this had to end this way, but not for me, I don't care, this isn't the first or the last time this happens to me, but to my mutuals who i am very sure many are angry that i have made this situation happen, perhaps i should've stayed quiet and keep being funny as people like me best, well it is too late, but i hope that you'll forgive me mutuals, for once again ruining something good.

I don't know how long this break will last or if ill ever even return to this account at all, but i sincerely thank the ones that did treat me like a human, as an equal, that actually saw the person behind v-anrouge. you can't possibly believe how much you mean to me

That's about it, do have a great day

[basil-does-arttt]

hold on wait a second i had a thought

in the DLC prolouge cutscene for DMC 5, when Vergil is in that stone passageway area, he says "its nearly time" (in reference to him splitting himself in half).

We know what day it happens, april 30th. The date is shown in Nero's flashback scene. This is of course assuming Vergil did all that on the same day, which i think is what happened. (He could open a portal to his house to travel, and why would he wait any longer and risk dying first?)

Anyway. Thats not my point, my point is: did he choose to do it on this day on purpose? Is this date special?

Im overanalyzing here so this may be a stretch, but: Could that be the day Eva died? Think about it. Him splitting himself was a "rebirth" of sorts: discarding his humanity to become a full demon in search of ultimate power.

Vergil being stabbed by those demons the day Eva died could also be counted as a kind of rebirthing for him: In the span of a few hours, he lost everything. His family, his life. And maybe even, his full humanity, as he gained his DT form in that moment too (shown by him having the same triggered-style eyes Dante uses when threatening V toward the start, also (half)triggered.) No longer was he a mere human boy, but now half a devil - the things that killed his family - too.

Knowing Vergil, it could make sense. In DMC 3 he's quite proper and a bit sentimental, much more so than Dante and i can see him caring more for these kinds of niche details in his life a lot more than Dante too. I also think he may have still been in that mindset when coming out of the Nelo Angelo body (however that happened), in a way that he hasnt really grown or matured while he was Nelo Angelo due to all the mind-fuckery performed thanks to Mundus.

(Could also be clarification for the reason Vergil still looks so young, quote "because of how much time he's spent in the underworld compared to Dante". He didnt live there, certainly not by choice. But he was captured and tortured by Mundus for 10 years. My thoughts is that he's technically still in his teenage body, as becoming Nelo Angelo and being in the underworld for so long thanks to Mundus halted (or at least very significantly slowed) the aging process. Time could move slower in hell but thats a rant for another time, ive gone off track.)

As such, him choosing such a special (traumatic) date to essential commit suicide on doesnt seem like much of a reach to me. Vergil has always been methodic. He doesn't do things hap-hazardly and never has, even as Nelo Angelo when he invites Dante outside to set up a proper fight rather than just taking the opportunity and attacking in the bedroom.

Of course you can argue it was coincidence, and he just stumbled across Nero by chance and decided to do it right then and there. He had to have found Nero first of all, figured out his plan of attack (probably so he wouldnt draw unwanted attention and possibly be stopped), then actually put it into motion. He couldnt exactly control the date Nero happened to be in the right place at the right time and gave him an opening. Im not trying to convince or anything, just sharing ideas, But wouldn't it just be so in character for april 30th to be a special date for him??

Overall i at least think the reason he chose to do it at the house was intentional for reasons stated above. If it wasnt, then why didn't he just... idk, find an alleyway or something and split himself there?

Those are my thoughts. Id love to hear other people's theories and such on this too.

(EDIT: I REALIZED THE MOMENT HE SPLITS HIMSELF ALSO PROBABLY HAPPENS AT A SPECIFIC TIME AS WELL, NAMELY 6:00 PM.

It mustve taken him some time to get back to the house. Not hours, but not seconds. 15 minutes seems like a good amount of travel time for someone who can teleport using portals alongside a bit of walking. If he got there early he could've just waited too.

A specific date, april 30th, and at (likely) exactly 6:00pm. In VOV while it is black and white, i assume the attack happened late into the evening, since the sky is dark when he gets back to the house a bit later. Idk how he would've known that it was exactly 6:00 but... anyway, Mundus also seems like the type of guy to plan shit, especially an attack like he did to Eva and the twins, if that whole "eva died on april 30th" thing was true.)

[blueskittlesart]

hi :] this isnt really a reqest cuz it'll prob be a longer answer but im rlly curious abt ur comic process

i love all ur comics and somehow they always manage to gutpunch me- and ur composition and the way they read is always so beautiful and adds so much to the message youre trying to get across

yeah lol let's get into it! Ive spent maybe 5 or so years refining this process to the point it's at now so it's pretty much my standard procedure now. I'm going to use Now that you're gone as my primary example here since i still have most of the planning stages associated with it (my laptop does not have a whole lot of storage left so i usually delete my planning once the comic is finished lol) but i'll try to throw in some other examples too!

I almost always start with a written script. (the exception for this is longform oc comics which i find easier to write in the moment, but for my shorter character studies I almost always write first.) I use discord to write because it's convenient, but before i had a dedicated discord server for my stuff i was using txt files on my laptop which i do NOT recommend. anyway, this is what the written script for ntyg looked like:

note that some small elements changed in production, like the amount of time that had passed since link's death. the lines "I look at her and i am only afraid. i remember all the ways in which i hurt you. She's almost as old now as you were then. I cannot stand the thought of outliving her, too" were also added during the rough stage because i felt like there wasn't quite enough emphasis on aryll in the initial script, and since this was a major change that necessitated a whole extra page in the comic I went back and edited those lines into the script so I wouldn't forget them. (both these changes were made during the rough stage. i'll almost never make major script adjustments after the roughs are finished.)

more examples of my scripts; specifically the original script for totk: failure and two versions of oot: adulthood (one before some major refining and one after.) with comics like these, where i have a very clear idea in my head of the imagery i want to go along with the words, i'll sometimes include it interspersed in the script, either spolier-marked or denoted with brackets.

with ntyg and some of my other more. canon divergent? i guess? comics, there's sort of a mini phase in between scripting and roughs where I do some minor character studies to get designs nailed down in the early stages. with ntyg I already had a clear image in my mind for aryll, but the central character was link's dad, whose design wasn't quite so solid in my head. I really wanted to make sure that his design was well thought-out and consistent throughout everything, so i did a few mini sketches and studies to ensure I had his design memorized and could execute it consistently:

these are sans hair and accessories because nailing down consistent facial features was my main focus with them, and both these sketches ended up getting used as references for certain panels later on. This isn't a step I ALWAYS take with my comics, but if there's a central character that i'm not super used to drawing i find it helpful to get some practice in before jumping into the real thing!

after the scripting and design phases i move on to roughs, which I consider to be the most important stage in my process. roughs are very very quick approximations of what I want the final pages to look like. they usually don't take me more than a few minutes per page to create, and their sole purpose is to help me visualize the flow of the page and the placement of major elements like panels, characters, and dialog. this is what the 1st page rough for ntyg looked like compared to the final page:

as you can see, all i have laid out is the major text and visual elements, but it really helps me to visualize how the finished comic is going to flow. i do the roughs for every page before i start on the finals so that i have an idea of what the entire comic is going to look like before I really start finalizing it. it's important that these roughs are FAST--i almost never draw fully-fledged characters unless the pose or expression is particularly important to the scene, and that's because the goal is to allow everything to flow quickly and easily from panel to panel and page to page, and getting too caught up on one panel or element often breaks that flow. Nowadays, i have a pretty good idea of how much room my writing takes up so i don't write out the entire script in my roughs, but back when i was a little less experienced i took the time to write everything out in this stage to ensure that my dialog would fit into the space it was given without getting cramped or cutting off other important elements. doing that really helped me build awareness of how much dialog and panel placement matters and how i could use it, so this rough stage is non-negotiable for me even now!

after the roughs i go straight into finalization. I never enjoyed lineart back when i was learning to draw digitally so i basically built my art style to be understandable and visually appealing after one sketch phase, meaning there's legitimately no in-between stage between that rough and that final page, i just sort of. go for it. this is what works for me, but i think most normal people would probably find a second sketch phase helpful LMAO i'm just crazy and i need everything done as fast as possible. the finalization stage usually doesn't contain any major adjustments of script, composition, etc; i make it a general rule to keep most of the major adjustments confined to the earlier stages, for my own sanity. One thing that DOES occasionally change in this stage is my plans for color--ntyg in particular was originally planned to be completely black-and-white with no grays added, but when looking at my completed pages i found them sort of empty and unengaging without the gray, so i added it. usually if my color plans DO change it's something small like that--I'll almost never switch between full-color and grayscale on a whim because the way that i sketch for those two versions differs significantly so it isn't an easy switch to make.

anyways i hope this is what you were looking for! I'm very passionate about making comics and this process is a result of years of experimentation & finding what works for me, but i hope it's of some use to you as well!

[taco-drinking-bleach]

PART 1: basic information Am I unwell about Yanqing? Well, I'm sure enough I'm well enough about him that's why we getting another rant about him :]!! (although that will be in part 2) -Purple: References to time -Red: References to his power, strength, or swordmanship -Green: His character -Blue: His past Today we gonna cover the abundance theory, first I should cover what it is and point you to this reddit link: https://www.reddit.com/r/YanqingMains/comments/1dqmmdl/abundance_yanqing_theory_explained/ that has a connecting Youtube video ^^^ and this reddit post that explained what is was 2 me at first!: https://www.reddit.com/r/YanqingMains/comments/1cgp2it/yanqing_is_sus_and_not_enough_people_are_talking/ First and foremost it summarizing what we know, and what some may not. This isn't all abundance, some of it is merely his lore to understand him better so its easier to under the theory. :] Yanqing's birth parents, origins, and how he spent his earliest years are unknown.

"It's recorded in the military annals of the Cloud Knights how Jing Yuan came to discover the young boy, stood his ground against public opinion, and incorporated him into the armed forces. However, in the family lineage column, Yanqing's lineage was relegated to the category of unknown." What we *do* know is that he was put within the Cloud knights young, loves swords, and is extremely talented (if not doomed) . also the lines "He was born for the sword and is obsessed with it. Whenever a sword rests in Yanqing's hand, none would dare underestimate this genius still in the early days of his youth. Perhaps the only thing capable of dulling his treasured blade's sharp edge is time." - Character Details "Youngest lieutenant in the history of the Cloud Knights" "Ever since he could remember... follow Jing Yuan around.....helping the Seat of Divine Foresight.....Jing Yuan in return taught him the art of swordplay..and...war." "Yanqing is "A gifted swordsman born to fight."' - Character Story: Part I "this genius' debut on the battlefield was even more explosive" - Character Story: Part II "If you ask Yanqing what other interests he has besides sword fighting, you'll be met with a simple answer —

"Interests are temporary, my sword is forever!"' "But for this vastly impressive teen, it's now time to turn over a new page in the annals of history and write another chapter" -Character Story: Part III "Jing Yuan spent much time and energy in raising Yanqing. Some speculated that he was cultivating an heir, others claimed he only kept him around just to use this kid as a secret weapon. Jing Yuan never offered a response." "Yanqing became an unrivaled fighter aboard the Xianzhou Luofu as his skills grew more and more advanced" "What Yanqing needs right now is not more strength, but the ability and experience of curbing that strength — something that can only manifest by the passage of time." -Character Story: Part IV

"The boy is still tightly grasping the sword even when fast asleep against the general's shoulder. The general gently taps the boy's cheek, and the boy mutters in his sleep. "General... I finally... won."

The general pauses. He suddenly realizes that, compared to the boy trying to improve every day, he himself has endured too many years and is used to stagnation.

"You will soon be better than everyone, and that will only be the beginning..."' -Sleep Like the Dead, the lightcone VL's about him (although this isn't really important, it can show insight on how he is preserved, this can help us know his intentions, and if he himself is aware of the abundance.) "Your martial prowess exceeds that of the general, while I surpass him in strategy."- Fu Xuan Added to Team With Yanqing "The smell of this Luofu swordmaster is as pure as his character — I only detect the scent of rain. Hmm, does this mean that his will is pure, or that he is too naïve?"- Lingsha about Yanqing "Master Yanqing has very rigorous teaching style. He's always saying "that's what the general taught me back in the day," ...Looks like everything General Jing Yuan taught him he knows by heart." -March 7th About Yanqing ""A sword will vibrate and beg to be unsheathed if it is unused for too long… Once unsheathed, it will either paint the battlefield in blood, or break itself in the process…"' -Yukong About Yanqing Etymology

彦 Yàn means "elegant," and 卿 Qīng means "high ranking official." (The name Great Qing first appeared in 1636. Since there was no official explanation from the Qing government about the origin of the name, there are competing explanations on the meaning of Qīng (lit. "clear" or "pure"). -The character Qīng (清) is composed of "water" (氵) and "azure" (青), both associated with the water element Rain is often associated with life, growth, and renewal, but it can also represent sadness, loss, and despair) -Rain has been considered a symbol of divine blessings in many cultures -There is also scientific evidence to support the idea that rain symbolizes fertility -Rain can also be used to symbolize the unknown or the hidden. In many cultures, rain is associated with the divine or supernatural Specific birds give hidden meanings in Chinese paintings, individual entries in this section include magpies, quails, swallows, cranes, ravens, eagles and many others -The coming of swallows in spring was welcomed and signified good luck for the household. This may be linked to their amazing nest building skills, they can quickly repair and build a structure just out of mud. To account for their disappearance in winter, there was a legend that swallows spent the time transformed into mussels by the sea. In Europe it was believed that they -birds in china "Clouds are considered lucky and so feature heavily in Chinese pictures and symbolism. This is most likely down to the obvious connection that clouds bring the much needed rain to water the crops. It also sounds the same as 运 yùn ‘luck, fortune, fate’." -clouds in china

"The wave design is a common emblem in pictures and on the hem of garments. Water in regular waves represents the sea. The tide 潮 cháo made up of waves sounds the same as 朝 cháo which means ‘Imperial court’ and so waves may symbolize a wish for a job in the Imperial service" -waves in china "Ice forms the boundary between air (yang) and water (yin), from this it symbolizes the match-maker (冰人 bīng rén) who forms the male-female partnership (a true 'ice-breaker' !). Ice symbolizes purity and winter. There is a design made from the pattern of cracked ice that is used in lattice window and porcelain designs. Ice also alludes to the story of Wang Xiang ➚ who was so devoted to his parents that he used his own body heat to melt ice so he could catch carp for his evil step-mother." -ice in china "Not until after one month of life, mǎn yuè (滿月), was a child's birth celebrated in ancient China, due to the high mortality rate. At this celebration, infants traditionally were given a longevity lock, a type of necklace that brought protection, health, and longevity. Often engraved with auspicious phrases, such as 'may you live to one hundred years’, cháng mìng bǎi suì (長命百歲). The lock is made from silver, gold or copper, depending on the wealth of the household." -Longevity Locks (honestly a strange thing to give him considering living longer then naturally given at birth is not really a good thing in the Loufu. There is also the fact we don't know his parents. As strange of a fact that he has it, maybe its hope that he doesn't die young.)

[schizosupport]

this is going to be very long and rambly, i apologize. you can answer any, all, or no parts of it, i guess i just really need to blurt it all out to *someone*

for the past 3 or 4 years, ive been having mild (?) transient stress related psychotic symptoms. i suspect i have a cluster b pd which could possibly cover that

at first it was mostly paranoia i think ? usually the standard "theyre out to get me" type thoughts, both with people i knew and nebulous entities i couldnt define. it doesnt happen too frequently, but it seems to have gotten worse with time. this past fall / winter was especially bad bc i was already doing poorly mental health wise and was very isolated. a lot of the thoughts are still paranoia based, but some lean more towards delusions now (e.g. being afraid of the music i left to play from my phone speakers bc i felt it was hunting me down) as well as some that are fully bizarre (e.g. believing that ive been an angel stuck inside a human body my whole life, thinking theres a force field around my apartment thats keeping me stuck inside). for a while there was also this... pervasive sense of unreality almost ? like i would get frustrated that things werent operating on dream logic, or have difficulty differentiating dreams and reality in general. for the past couple months since then, ive had pretty much no issues

i always retain Some grasp on reality, whether its full on double booking or a vague sense of "something is wrong with me right now", which is enough for me to hide away from people and try to calm myself down and ground myself back to reality (... can you even do that with "real" delusions ? talk yourself out of them ?). the symptoms only last a few hours "at their peak", though the unsteady / unreality feeling may stick around for days or weeks surrounding that. im still able to be mostly functional for that part though. as such, nobody knows about any of this.

i just. i dont know. i dont have a therapist (i need one). im too afraid telling my friends will change their views on me irreparably even though they too struggle with (other) deeply stigmatized mental health issues. ive spent a lot of my childhood being called insane and incapable and i dont want it to happen again after ive finally found people that respect me. im worried ill have a full on psychotic break at some point (what the hell counts as "a break" ? can i call what ive been through "episodes" ?), or lose my ability to double book, or display symptoms in front of people i know. i just dont know what to do so im. spilling it out all here. so someone at all besides me knows

-- elias

Hey there,

Sorry it took me a while to get back to you.

It definitely sounds to me like you are experiencing some level of psychotic symtoms, and it sounds like it's causing you significant distress. You asked whether you can "talk yourself out of" a "real delusion" - and well, not as such, until the delusion passes, but they can be more or less long-lived and come with more or less insight.

The types of episode that only last a couple hours at full intensity are sometimes referred to as micropsychoses. When people talk about "a psychotic episode" it usually refers to a prolonged loss of reality that may last days, weeks or even months. But plenty of people on the schizo- and psychosis spectrum don't experience full-blown psychotic episodes. That doesn't make their psychosis un-serious, and it also isn't a given that these people will go on to develop worse psychotic symptoms.

I think one of the reasons the diagnosis of schizotypal exists, is because we needed to acknowledge that not every person's endpoint on the schizo-spectrum is schizophrenia, but that doesn't mean that their experience doesn't come with distress or disability.

I think you could try to do a vibe check with your friends to see how they react to the concept of psychosis and psychotic disorders. If they seem cool, then you could try to bring up your own experiences. It might be nice to be able to talk about those things, and get to experience that it doesn't have to be the end of the world, and not everyone will judge you for it.

I hope you all the best, anon!!

[conanssummerchild]

i finally gave in and im making some rick and morty oc's >:))

we have:

Rick Sanchez A-26M

Morty Smith L9-DD

Summer Sanchez X-1217 (she changed her surname to sanchez after escaping her dimension. maybe her jerry was abusive or something. in reality i just want her to be summer sanchez. might find a way to make morty morty sanchez too.)

Beth Smith N0T (thats a zero but it is reffered to as dimension not or the not dimension or smth)

Jerry Smith N0T

and they all live on Earth dimension N0T

backstory:

(ignore that i refer to summer as summer x-22 in the ss, i changed my mind or her dimensional code, it is x-1217)

ive never made an oc before literally ever in my life (let alone 5) but im working on the lore rn and maybe sometime this month i'll do character designs but im really busy rn. definitely by the end of summer tho

additional info:

rick has paranoia depression anxiety adhd and autism (but he refuses to go to therapy so most of these arent actually diagnosed, but im literally his creator so i know, with the exception of paranoia (due to his psycotic break he was briefly forced into citadel therapy or whatever) and depression. i dont think he knows about the anxiety/he refuses to acknowledge it and he self medicates his adhd. he knows about the autism) hes also still an alcoholic (like most ricks i think) his beth jerry and summer's whereabouts are unknown (at least until i think of smth better 😭)

morty's rick is dead but when he was alive he was lowkey kinda nice (if overly and unhealthily dependant on morty) so morty misses him dearly :( morty tried to help his rick recover from dianes death and stop him from destroying himself finding rick prime but he couldnt and he blames himself for ricks death, he has a lot of abandonment issues and maybe some ptsd too. hes a bit more prickly than your standard morty until he really gets close to someone, hes less immediately trusting. after his rick died he ran away from home to the citadel, trying to find another rick but after a few years and about 5 ricks he realised it was useless and he would never be able to really replace his rick. his family was assigned another morty after he split and they're fine. he hung around the morty town locos for a while until finding summer x-22

summer's whole family is alive still but she ran away from home due to her jerry being abusive, as i mentioned earlier. she stole ricks portal gun and portalled over to the citadel, but the portal gun was damaged and she couldnt go anywhere else. morty l9-dd found her crying behind the creepy morty and tried to steal her portal gun (bcs the morty town locos fw portal fluid) but she pinned him against a wall and told him she'd slit his throat out if he didnt help her so he agreed. they bonded after that and became pretty much inseparable.

summer confided that she hadnt had a good relationship with her morty bcs he always turned a blind eye to the abuse and excused jerry. morty told her he spent so much time trying to keep his rick from spiralling that he never formed much of a relationship with his summer

when they get to dimension N0T beth and jerry seem perfect but they soon find out that the rick of this dimension was dead of suicide or smth and that beth tried to commit to after his death maybe. beth here is also an alcoholic, like c-131 is and jerry is in charge of keeping up appearances, which is harder once you have 3 new people living in your broken home.

im not sure a lot of this still might change it needs a lot of work

defining traits (both personality and physical):

rick: more quiet, often zones out and seems like hes not even there, but still bitchy when he does talk. when they first get to N0T he barely leaves his room for 2 months and beth keeps panicking bcs shes worried he'll kill himself like her rick. even tho she doesnt know him he looks so much like her rick did (bcs theyre both ricks duh) and its just stirring back up some stuff for her. his hair is a little flatter than c-137. perhaps he has a fringe. maybe he wears a soft wool jumper. je has self harm scars but always wears long sleeves, so theyre not visible

morty: his tones a bit sharper, hes more skeptical of ppl than morty prime is. hates rick prime almost as much as a-26m does. darker yellow t shirt (like the mortys in mortytown) scars across his eye (I KNOW IM NOT ORIGINAL OK i didnt want to put the scar down his lip bcs i didnt want to assosciate him with evil rick and morty, he has nothing to do with them) maybe the scar is across his cheek idk

summer: always a bit on edge, carries a knife on her at all times. incredibly mistrusting of jerry N0T when they got there. still weary of him and doesnt let him get too close. jerry is too tired trying to keep up appearances to really do much to try and ease summers mistrust of him. black tank top instead of pink. hot pink belt on her jeans tho maybe. loose hair bcs a ponytail is too easy to grab, sharp nails, painted pink. bruises on her arms that start to fade in the beginning of her time on the citadel with morty

beth: often out of it or drunk, more so the more time rick morty and summer stay bcs she cares less and less about keeping how shitty shes doing from them. at the beginning she seems like a perfect housewife, or someone putting on a performance of one. looks pretty much the same if not a little more disheveled, in the beginning wears one of those fancy white frilly aprons with a red heart embroidered. drops the apron as she drops the act

jerry: tired, dark circles maybe (rick and morty also have these, summer and jerry wear makeup to cover them, beth and rick have eyebags also) starts wearing the apron when beth stops lol, defeated demeanour, kinda depressed a lot of the time. lonely

anyway a lot of this is probably gonna be changed idkkkk

ooh also how long it took for a bond to form between characters:

rick and morty: about 2-3 months. both desperately missed their old partners which sped it up a bit but morty was scared of getting attached and rick at the start was too out of it most days to really form any kind of connection also he was scared of getting attatched too but for different reasons (morty was scared he'd lose another rick, rick felt like everyone he got close to ended up worse off (diane, his prev morty))

rick and summer: like maybe 5 months, they didnt interact much at first, like i said rick was too out of it and summer didnt really trust rick and saw him as unstable, but as rick grew closer to morty, summer slowly became a little less suspicious and maybe rick helped her with smth and they bonded over that idk

rick and beth: their initial relationship was not healthy, beth trying desperately to prevent rick from killing himself and rick not being willing to work on himself healthily, causing beth great panic and anxiety, but after like 6 months or so they become drinking buddies, still not the healthiest father-daughter relationship but it eases beths mind and makes rick feel less alone

rick and jerry: even after like 10 months living at the smith house rick and jerry dont have much of a relationship, both are too caught up in their own exhaustion to make an effort to bond, may change at some point

morty and summer: started to form a relationship within the first week of meeting eachother, maybe 7 or so months before they encountered rick (i need to make a timeline) probably the strongest relationship of all of these listed

morty and beth: surprisingly quickly, within the first 1 or 2 months, morty misses his mum and he wants to try and help beth a bit

morty and jerry: mutual respect for eachother, morty helps jerry out around the house and with things, started like this after anytime between a few weeks and 2 months

summer and beth: 4 months, took a while but eventually they formed a bond, its easier for summer to relax around beth and beth likes having a daughter

summer and jerry: still distrust after 10 months, will likely take a long time for any kind of relationship to form, no matter how minor

beth and jerry: pre established relationship obviously but its not a very good or happy one, maybe after 9 months they start trying to work on it again

[edwad]

you recognize that something like 'vft' is an umbrella for all sorts of theoretical tendencies, some of which actively conflict, yet you still resort to the vulgar and pejorative 'worldview marxism' to refer to an even more heterogeneous theoretical umbrella. your understanding of your niche is strong and you are a good thinker but you reproduce too many of the same tendencies you criticize when it comes to theoretical fields you simply don't engage seriously with

worldview marxism isn't a pejorative, but i also don't really use it anyway. you're responding to me answering a question about heinrich's descriptive language for traditional marxisms and then faulting me for vulgarity, which doesn't really make sense, especially since this isn't even the first time i've addressed this (and there again i comment on how infrequently i use this language outside of directly commenting on heinrich's use of it)

that being said, worldview marxism isn't somehow unifying a theoretical core, it's just a descriptor at a high level of a kind of marxism that has a particular quirk. the same could be true of VFT, but the difference here recently (the context i assume you're responding to) is that i was dealing with the treatment of VFT as if it's a singular thing (an anon associated it exclusively with endnotes and heinrich). my point is that it goes well beyond that. similarly worldview marxism is intended to describe more than just a handful of people that all agree with one another. that doesn't mean they're written off in unison, it just means that they're doing a certain style of analysis.

with that said, to think i'm guilty of reproducing the things im criticizing is a bit of a stretch (there's no contradiction in any of this that i can tell, it's all fairly straightforward to me). and to accuse me of failing to engage with the different traditions which worldview marxism is intended to capture is a bit silly, considering i didnt encounter marx through critical readings like heinrich's. i spent the first several years learning from people that would land solidly under this umbrella and i considered myself to be a marxist of their stripe. of course ive engaged with them because i was among them and had to break with them deliberately once my understanding of these things started to shift.

[megabuild]

my 2023 art summary (scottify wrapped)

haven't drawn anything for the past couple months outside of a small reference image for something, because as ive said before i've been crazy unwell and need to prioritise my energy for basic activities like preparing food, showering, etc. over drawing. this started around august which is why the only real "rendered" piece from there on was one for a zine that i spent a lot of time on (excited to show you guys the full product when it releases- fingers crossed should be out soon!!) i'm so grateful to my past self for deciding to bite the bullet and buy a screen tablet i could use portably, because if i was still restricted to drawing only at my desk, this would be a lot, lot barer.

even though it's not much this year i can still see the improvement, mainly in how i render and shade stuff. i stumbled into digital painting for the first time which is NOT my thing but fun nonetheless, and of course i've been looking a lot into character design- my first goal in the new year is to update my ref sheets and make some more for the aoyuer cast ;) this was also the first year i took commissions, which has been great!! i'm thankful to everyone who has commissioned me thus far (and if you're currently waiting on one- sorry, it'll be done asap! as i said it takes me a while right now ^_^") i think i'm at a pretty good stage with my art and have a clear idea of what mistakes i'm making and where i wanna go next! thank you for all the support this year 💙

[batemanofficial]

time for everybody's favorite game: jaime waxes poetic about whether or not im transgender

so im less concerned with labels now that im a little older than i have been in the past but this shit is so confusing dawg. i always say that if i had been born ten years later i would have transitioned because i spent the first six or so years of my life believing wholeheartedly that i was a boy. but i eventually just kind of had to cave to the expectations that were set for me (interpersonally, at church, within my family, etc), and had a very very hardcore "not like other girls" phase to cope with that. when i got to high school i kinda gave that up and got really into makeup and fashion to try to make femininity "my own," and i still enjoy both of those things today but it's always felt very costume-y to me. like i don't wear makeup to feel like a "better version of myself" (to use substance parlance), i wear it to play dress up. to be something that *isnt* me. its me but its not. its caricature. its pastiche. i very rarely dress up in a way that isn't some kind of like. reference or something. maybe that's not the right word but my outward appearance is very intentionally constructed and not necessarily representative of the consciousness inside. dgmw dressing eclectically is very much a part of my personality and something that i enjoy doing, but it's performance at the end of the day.

but to switch gears a little i don't know if i want to be a man per se either. like ive never felt like a woman but idk about calling myself a man either. like my lesbianism is a huge part of my identity and i don't want to give that up for the sake of ideological cohesiveness. hang on sorry i just realized im describing the plot of stone butch blues. carry on.

but anyway i definitely want the respect that men are afforded both just in general and within my industry specifically (being a woman in a professional kitchen sucksssssss sometimes) but on the flip side would that be worth all the fuss? and idk about testosterone and all that bc i don't want to deal with the side effects quite honestly. but at the same time i hate being looked at as a "woman" and ogled and harassed and all that jazz. if i had it my way i'd be 6'2 and have no tits but alas i am on the surface a conventionally attractive skinny white woman. and i hate that. it disgusts me like genuinely. i know that makes me sound like a total cunt and like im fishing for compliments but im not. maybe im just too substance pilled but i feel like meat when im reminded of what i look like.

i think part of the disconnect im feeling comes from the fact that im intersex (turner syndrome nation rise) and i have all the indicators of womanhood but still other things about my body that point the other way. and identifying as nonbinary feels the most coherent to me but it just comes with so much societal baggage that it's just not worth it to me. like i HATE being they/themmed bc it feels like a pc way to say "what the fuck are you" and "you're just a girl who wants to be quirky." and obv i don't believe those things abt nonbinary people but i feel like that's what the current sentiment is from most people on the street.

ughhhhh anyway. i saw this image and it really made me think. like this is objectively silly but this is exactly how i feel.

but anyway it's 1:15 in the morning and my phone's about to die so i should go to bed BUT if you have any words of wisdom please feel free to share because i am in truth extremely jealous of the self actualization my trans friends and those on hrt have bc i am a pussy who hates going to the doctor and can't get out of their own head enough to decide if they even want that. but i think i might. if you read this far im sorry for the word vomit but thank you for reading anyway. mwah y buenas noches