#still not over maddie’s rin smau btw…

[sirhamburrger]

you’ve always been good in english without needing to try too hard - after all, you have spoken it for many years. the grammar and vocabulary taught in japanese high schools is frankly much too easy for you, and you get perfect scores more often than not.

but along comes rin itoshi, and suddenly you don’t feel all that confident in yourself anymore. pop quiz on the latest literature text? he’s writing just a little more on his answer sheet than you, and you’re fairly certain his answers are better, too.

it makes you grow to hate him. you’re not proud of it, but you can’t help the way jealousy rears its ugly head and says bad things about his bangs when you pass him in the hallway. or the way he sounds when he scoffs at any minor inconvenience. or the way the midday sunlight reflects off his side profile and makes it look like he’s glowing. or the way his infuriatingly long lower lashes are all too obvious when he glances at you.

but it all comes to a head when the teacher pairs the two of you up for a class project, and he’s stepping into your bedroom and sitting in your swivel chair.

“what are you looking at me like that for?” he says rather stiffly in perfect english.

“what’re you looking at me like that for?” you fire back. you shift uncomfortably under his piercing gaze, crossing your legs as you settle onto your bed.

“you should know i’d rather not be here,” he says, not even having the decency to look you in the eye. you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, then realise you have free will and do it anyway. he simply maintains eye contact with you, apathetic as ever.

you clench your jaw. “you’re just an insipid little asshole, aren't you?"

he turns and just stares.

"what did you say to me?"

“forget it,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “let’s just get started already -”

“no, i’m serious.” now it’s your turn to stare at him, utterly baffled as you frown at his strangely… serious expression. “could you repeat what you said?”

“i, uh, called you an asshole. an insipid asshole, to be exact.”

“and that means?”

”lacking in interest or flavour, i guess. just - boring, to put it simply.”

he’s scribbling away in his notebook now - from where he procured it, you’ll never know - and you watch on in silence, mildly curious.

“i’ve kept notebooks like this since i was twelve,” he says, deadpan, having predicted the question you were about to ask. “we can’t all naturally have large vocabularies like you.”

and this makes you start to think that maybe, just maybe, the high-and-mighty rin itoshi isn’t really as arrogant as you thought after all.

every meeting after that is less tense, and you find yourself opening up to him more and more. talking about teachers, classmates, other school things. sometimes even about his soccer and your own interests. and every time you see him, you’ve got a new word for him to learn. (some of them are rather unflattering, but he doesn’t seem to mind his expanding vocabulary.)

and when you see him on national television playing in some neo egoist league, you feel like a proud mother hearing him use the very english insults you’ve taught him on his opponents.

(it’s also kind of hot, but you’re not going to admit that to his face.)