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It’s not as though Shu didn’t know how Rinne felt. The artist would be a fool to be able to ignore the eyes affixed on him every CRAFTMONSTER meeting, like his very figure draws with it the older’s gaze, as a sewing needle does a thread. Not to mention the flirting, the way Rinne seemed to be unable to keep his hands off of Shu, the frequent calls to his phone that, even if Shu didn’t pick up, would lead to a voice call instead, saying anything, everything that was so signature Rinne Amagi that it drove Shu nearly crazy.
(It wasn’t that Shu minded, really. After all, with technology to date, calling and leaving voicemails were still the preferred method of communication for him—typing is a hassle. But the fact that the texts turned to calls after Shu had spoken his mind on the topic to Rinne is the issue; the fact that every word of every voicemail had seemed to engrave itself in Shu’s mind at some point in the day.)
Shu is not oblivious, and he knows very well of Rinne’s little game he’s playing. The intention he’s unsure of, but perhaps he’s too aware of the the message the redhead’s trying to drive home, because even when Rinne should be nowhere to be seen in his head—Valkyrie practices, eating lunch alone, discussions with Mademoiselle—he is nowhere but on his mind. If this is a cruel prank or an irrational gamble, Shu can only wish that Rinne would stop it by now, because now it is he who fears the consequences of this game the most.
Shu has already made peace with the idea of Rinne residing in Shu’s heart. There’s no point in denying it, the hours spent dwelling on the fact, and frankly, the Itsuki Shu of Valkyrie has far better things to do than cause unnecessary turmoil for himself over some puppy crush. As shameful as it is to confess that Rinne had won in his game, it’s been long since the matter at hand had moved on from who was the winner and who was the loser. It is now what Rinne’s next move will be; the final consequence of being the “loser” to this scheme of his.
Because if Shu knows anything, it is not that he is incapable of loving, but that his love is hardly something that should be returned back.
Rinne can act enamored with the leader of Valkyrie all he wants, but the real trouble lies when the man actually catches feelings. (Shu’s convinced the reason behind all of this is otherwise—it had to be, because what business would Shu have in a gambler’s heart? But he won’t live in some ignorant bliss that means Rinne can’t go down that path somewhere down the line.) So, it’s rejection. Shu pretends that the game continues to go on; he will argue back, he will shove him off, he will pretend that everything Rinne does will not be the next thing his mind decides to fixate on the moment Rinne leaves.
Really, this is for Rinne’s sake. Not that the man needed protection from Shu—he’s well aware he’s talking about a man not only older than him, but also with quite the strong mind—but it’s the least Shu can do with this love festering in his heart.
Shu, after all, has never learned how to express his love otherwise. It’s a work in progress, a masterpiece still being chipped away at till Valkyrie in all of its foundation of love may prosper as it did before by a love that is mutual between partners rather than master and puppet, and not in the proper state to strain right now by adding Rinne into the equation.
Not now, and if Shu was being honest, perhaps not ever. But it’d hurt to tell Rinne that more than it does for Shu to accept those terms, so Shu can only hope what he’s doing is enough for him. (He knows it isn’t, he knows the disappointment that will come out of it all.)
But it’s for Rinne, so it’s fine.
Shu will not allow another love of his to have their wings clipped by him.
A date is what Rinne calls their little outings; but another tactic of Rinne’s to advance him in this futile game of theirs. By now he’s gotten used to it, not because he felt anything towards Rinne, but simply because it’s been so long since this habit formed. Shu still refuses to consider them dates himself, of course—Rinne knows better than to expect that of him, too. But Shu would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy them. Rinne’s presence, as unbearable as it may be, is a breath of fresh air; the thrill that he needs to contrast the peace and quiet Shu basks in in France.
A little indulgence of thrill, he has learned through Rinne, is welcome every now and then. (It’s funny how, when Shu really thinks about it, Rinne’s already left such a lasting mark on him. He shouldn’t have—they’re better off separate; for thoughts of Rinne to have haunted someone more deserving of it.)
This is a date, too, planned by the usual phone call (“Shu-chan~! Ya remember me askin’ ‘bout if ya were free this Saturday? Ya checked n’ everything n’ said yes, so ya can’t chicken out now n’ tell me ya have plans last minute. We’re goin’ on a date tomorrow afternoon.”) that ended with Shu’s usual blunt (“I hope one day you learn how to hold your tongue, Amagi. Farewell.”). As Rinne always does, the location of these “dates” are always unknown till the moment of, where Rinne allows “fate to guide them wherever they’re meant to be,” claiming it makes dates more exciting, or even piques that gambler’s blood of his.
Frankly, Shu wants no part in that. Though he is in “love” with a gambler, it is not the gamble that he is into. But he admits, it is a little fun to see where the redhead picks to take them. Sometimes it’s a new cafe, a movie theater, even an art museum (unexpected, but Shu was touched that Rinne would go out of his way like that for him), and other times they simply crash at each other’s dorms or the empty CRAFTMONSTER space and spend hours babbling about who knows what for hours, perfectly satisfied with having each others company and nothing else.
Today, Saturday afternoon, or as Rinne calls it, “romance time,” the gambler decides to test the shorter’s patience with a wonderful visit to four of the most infuriating train stations Shu has been to. Transferring line after line, squeezing past sickeningly close bodies and having the pristine cloth of his clothes rub against all things unsightly and unsanitary, it’s a miracle Shu has yet to yank his hand out of Rinne’s (yet another familiar habit by this point, though he really wished he didn’t crave the warmth of the other’s calloused palms as he does in his time away) and call off their date entirely. By the time they reach their last stop, Shu has just about had it, jaw clenched enough to have his temples burst under pressure, and skin crawling with such discomfort that he may as well go about sewing new clothes after this, deeming the outfit he wears now unsalvageable.
Beyond the last train station is sunlight, diamond-kissed sky, and a nature scene so luscious enough that one could almost forget the horrid and nauseating process it took to get there. It takes time for Shu’s delirium to fade, though after his head clears enough of the cloaking red fog and the lingering pain pinned to the side of his forehead, he realizes they’re at a park.
The emotions leave his mouth before he can think rationally, what left of his frustration leaving his body by poison lacing his words. “All that for a park? Amagi, are you trying to waste my time?”
“Calm down, will ya? It ain’t like I’m happy ‘bout bein’ pushed ‘round for hours myself, but we’re outta there now, so the only one who can push ya ‘round now is me~,” Rinne chimes, his arm intruding Shu’s space without hesitation, looping behind Shu’s neck to pull Shu to his side by the shoulders.
Of course, Shu makes quick work of untangling himself. “I’m not yours to push around either, Amagi.” Rinne doesn’t need to be looking at Shu to know he’s scowling, though Shu supposes he’ll give Rinne some credit. With his frustration swept away, it’s hard to deny now the beauty of the park. It makes sense why they had to travel so far; the park in question is blades of green with dots of flowers for miles all around. Besides the playground and the distant cries of children’s laughter, it's the whistling leaves, the rustling of grass beneath their feet. You don’t find parks like this in urban Tokyo; there’s not a building in sight aside from a shrine tucked away in a cage of trees and a separate building far from the playground, posted outside of it papers regarding the park’s rules and regulations.
Needless to say, it’s… charming. Almost reminiscent of Shu’s own childhood on the playgrounds, he realizes, though those memories were never necessarily fond till Kuro came to question. It’s funny how, after all this time, it’s still a redhead who accompanies him to these vast fields of green. (Perhaps Shu has a type.) Though what’s more surprising about it all is how Rinne knows of this place, and what business they have there.
Knowing Rinne, not knowing is all part of the fun. But Shu’s had enough surprises packed for him today on the trains.
Rinne just hums, shoving his hands in his pockets after Shu’s rejection, though he knows what Shu’s prying eyes are asking. “Nice place, ain’t it? When I was still new to the city I’d sneak out here all the time. Niki’d give me real shit for disappearin’ on him every now n’ then, but back then I couldn’t really understand how everyone could just stand lookin’ at the same ol’ buildings day to day without goin’ insane.”
It’s rare for Rinne to speak of this time; it makes Shu wonder just how much he does or doesn’t know about Rinne’s past. Nodding, he replies, “Hmph. It’s still surprising you hadn’t adapted quickly to the city, considering how easy you operate in the city now. I’ve lived in Tokyo all my life, but even I seem to be the foreigner in the city against someone like you.”
“Yeah, ya ain’t the first to tell me that, Shu-kun. But people change, so there’s no point in tryn’a pretend like I’m the same guy I was walkin’ into those streets.”
“That’s true. I’m sure your flippant, rambunctious attitude is a charm to some of your fans anyway, seeing how they react to your unruly behavior on stage.” Shu used to grimace at the memory of seeing Rinne on stage; he was ever so intolerant of conduct that was short of grace or elegance, and the leader of Crazy:B had been jarringly been the best fit of everything Shu could possibly despise, but… it’s as Rinne had said. People change.
Rinne’s laugh is easily mistaken as a crack of thunder as he comments, “So ya think I’ve got other charmin’ things ‘bout me? Tell me all ‘bout it then, Shu-kun~ what d’ya like about me?”
“Nothing.” Shu’s answer is the definition of confidence; alternatively, a stab to Rinne’s chest. With a dramatic recoil, the redhead makes sure to let his heartbreak be known.
“Ya can’t really mean that! After all o’ this time together…”
Scoff. “Let’s get going, Amagi. I assume your idea was not for us to stand here idly, yes?”
“Yer a real bitch, y’know that Shu-chan?”
To that, Shu can’t help but snicker. “And I believe you’re the one to blame for that.”
Conversation is like the ocean for the two men: ever flowing and ebbing without, connecting the two vastly different bodies of land by such common ground that they can bond over in ways Shu could never imagine to bond with anybody else. There’s no point in denying that Rinne and Shu have their differences—that parts of them are simply impossible to piece together, no matter how many times you rotate or flip their puzzle pieces. But it goes without saying that not all finished puzzles have to be conventionally square, either. Masterpieces in art tend to be a deviation from the norm; they don a unique characteristic or two that sells the piece more than the rest. Shu, as an artist, knows that fact best. And Shu, as a romantic, can’t help but compare Rinne and him in the same manner: unconventional, but still perfection , as all that involves Itsuki Shu should be.
However, the artist has to catch himself now and then. It’s dangerous to think in such a way; to entertain anymore of how they would be together, because that outcome is not possible. (It is, but not if Shu may have a say in it—he’s already told himself to stop it, to prevent it, and he’ll see it through if his feelings for Rinne mean anything.) That aside, it’s pointless to pretend as if Shu doesn’t enjoy the flow of conversation between them; Rinne is a fun conversation partner, at least to Shu, with the way they connect in some ways through points Shu would never think they’d be mutual about, and clash in all other ways that keep conversations interesting, passionate.
The conversation, paired with the rustling leaves above them, the blades of green twisting with the wind, and the air free city pollutants make the situation all the more ideal. They’re alone, nothing but their shared laughter riding the wind and their shadows cast from the sun hung high to keep them company otherwise—and Shu likes it that way, really. It’s more intimate; personal. He feels as though he can talk to Rinne forever about the trivial things Shu’s always considered not worth his time, because time seems to move with the clouds, dragging on ever so slowly.
He knows it’s bad to feel that way, but as long as it doesn’t interfere with their relationship, he allows himself to indulge in it just this moment. The air is so peacefully still by the two of them, stirring only by the shake of Shu or Rinne’s figure in their laughing or the gestures of their hands, and all other stress of idol or design work fades with the rest of the grass and trees to the horizons, and ah… indulgence.
But then, the tides change. Or perhaps it’s the wind that’s shifted directions all the sudden, as Rinne moves precariously onto the next topic after a delicate silence. The redhead looks down to the grass situated between his spread legs, shifting his weight to his hands that rest beside the outside of his thighs. “Say, Shu-kun. Ya ever kissed someone before? Yer first kiss, I mean.”
Shu is seated more comfortably on a bench beside the man on the ground, legs crossed and arms folded with no real reprimanding intent. It’s an odd question that settles like goosebumps to his skin, as if the breeze turned chilly. It’s the first question of the day like that, and Shu feels the need to answer carefully. This is exactly what he knows he needs to avoid.
“...Non. I’ve never had the need to.” He blinks slowly, wearily. In the corner of his eye, he sees Rinne’s lips curl, though it’s not precisely a smile on his lips.
“Heh, figured so,” Rinne replies bluntly, eyes still falling short of Shu’s place. Still downwards, to his own shadow. How curious.
“—And what is that supposed to imply?” Shu chides, unpleased with Rinne’s reply. Was that supposed to offend him? He’s not ashamed of having never kissed anyone, if that’s what Rinne’s going on about.
“Woah, chill out. I’m not sayin’ anything bad ‘bout it, just that ya act pretty damn innocent when it comes to some sorta shit, so I got the feelin’ that’cha were. Either that, or yer a genius at seducin’ guys.”
Of all times, now should not be when heat begins to prick at Shu’s cheeks. Seducing? “I beg your pardon?”
“Mm, nope. Ya still don’t get it, so yer bein’ honest, huh.”
“ Of course I am! Why would I need to lie about it? If you’re going to brag about how many people you’ve chosen to kiss, I’d rather not know.” Something about the thought of it draws a sharp breath out of Shu, with a bitter taste on his tongue. Shu always forgets about how Shu might not be the only one playing this game with Rinne. It’s highly likely that he isn’t alone, actually. But—
“No dice! I don’t got anythin’ to brag ‘bout, so ya don’t gotta be jealous of anyone else.” Shu hears that shit eating grin with that line. “I‘m just thinkin’ ‘bout how you’re so damn kissable.”
Then comes Rinne’s eyes, crinkles by the end of his eyes in both representation of a smile and of mischief. The gambler’s gaze is both invigorating and overwhelming when targeted at Shu, so he doesn’t dare meet his eyes. Not when his head is spinning from his words. So damn kissable. Rinne Amagi just says these things as if he expects that Shu has something proper to say in response, as if it’s any sort of fair to say that sort of thing—
Oh, no, Who is he kidding? Rinne never plays fair. This is on purpose, and the eyes that enjoy the way Shu’s complexion bleeds plink only fluster him more. A clever move, Shu admits, and he doesn’t have much on his own end to defend himself, besides a stutter. “That’s—... Just what are you on about?!”
“What’s not clickin’, Shu-kun? Ya seriously ain’t that much of a prude, are ya?”
“I am not a prude—!”
“Sure ya aren’t! But anyway, what was that you were sayin’ bout never havin’ the ‘need’ to kiss someone before? Like ya’d only kiss someone in a life or death situation?”
“That was not me being prudish, I’m simply stating that I’ve never found kissing anybody necessary yet. Surely that isn’t unreasonable.”
An exasperated laugh falls from Rinne, almost like a sigh. “You’re seriously killin’ me over here, Shu-kun. Ya’ve at least thought of kissin’ someone else, right? Or like, wanted to at some point?”
The sound of eggshells cracking under Shu’s feet. “That doesn’t matter.”
“So it’s a yes ,” Rinne hums, and it’s more than just eggshells cracking by now. Shu’s reserve is split down the middle as well, and like water rushing from a dam, he leaks.
“It is none of your business , Amagi.”
“You’re the one bein’ so obvious ‘bout it. Practically handin’ this shit out for free!”
“Non! You’re the one prying your hands into my business—”
“C’mon, you’re bein’ waaay too shy ‘bout it. It ain’t a crime to kiss someone, y’know? I ain’t gonna judge ya or anything, ‘m just maaad curious ‘bout who these lucky guys are.”
“It has nothing to do with you.” Shu grimaces; the conversation steers southward, to every topic they should avoid if either of them want to keep face. The uncomfortable build of the bench becomes more apparent now to the man sitting on it, and with frustration he shifts against his seat, cursing himself for letting himself slip just once before everything begins to crumble.
…At least Shu figured the situation was salvageable, though you could never really know with Rinne and his unpredictable nature.
“C’mon, don’t be like that. You’re gettin’ way too toxic over there, so why don’t we make a bet to make this more fun instead?”
What could you possibly be making a bet on at this moment? “A bet?”
“Mmmhm, it’s pretty simple!”
Rinne stands, and the expectation for Shu to properly gaze back at him now is far too suffocating not to comply. The gambler’s dashing smirk flips Shu’s stomach in every which way, though surely no reaction of his is as visceral nor destructive than how he reacts to Rinne’s actual bet.
The redhead continues, “Let me kiss ya, n’ if I disappoint’cha, ya won’t have to tell me anythin’ more ‘bout it. In fact, I’ll do whatever ya want. You can tell me to rot in hell n’ I’ll never look at’cha in the eyes again!”
Shu’s heart drops, then soars, then drops again; a rollercoaster that’ll leave Shu dead by the time the ride stops.
“But if ya like it n’ ya still have it in ya to look at me in the eyes again, ya’d have to do me the honor of bein’ mine to have. That’s my jackpot.”
“ What— ”
“That clear ‘nough for ya? All I’m askin’ for is a single kiss, n’ then you can get outta here n’ leave if ya wanna. Kiss all the actual guys yer into n’ stuff, n’ never have to deal with me again. Sounds like a good deal, right?”
“Do you even hear yourself, Amagi? A kiss for all of this.”
“‘Course! I don’t mess ‘round with my bets, Shu-kun, ‘specially ones I wanna win. I already told ya ‘bout how kissable ya are, so just what ain’t makin’ sense to ya?”
Anger bubbles like lava; it’s not that Shu doesn’t want it. It’s not as if Rinne’s not the first on the list of people Shu has ever yearned to kiss, but non! No! This isn’t possible! This is all that Shu’s wanted Rinne to avoid, and all that Rinne’s pushing for with such gleaming eyes sizing Shu up whole.
If anything, Shu’s mad at himself. As usual, the blame ends up falling like shreds of thread into his hands once more; Rinne will end up hurt either way, and Shu will be the one to walk him personally to his corner of Hell.
“Non. I refuse, ” Shu answers between gritted teeth, and Rinne’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
“No? Seriously? But I could’ve sworn ya wanted to.”
And here Shu thought his headache was gone. Like thorns to a rose, admiration leads to the trickling of blood; of frustration; of defeat. His ragged inhale comes out dire when he carves yet another lie of a reply: “What could’ve possibly made you come to that conclusion?”
“‘Cause that’s my biggest gamble of ‘em all! You’re leavin’ hints everywhere we go, smilin’ while we’re talkin’ like ya haven’t smiled the same way in years, n’ ya’ve always got that look in yer eye like ya just found your favorite piece of candy lying in yer pocket outta nowhere when we talk, y’know? Ya couldn’t be fakin’ that stuff; I bet everythin’ I had on that.”
This familiar feeling of everything Shu’s been building on crumbling at his feet is haunting; his eyes pull away to the trees, the sky, the grass, but there’s no escape from the message Rinne is trying to tell him. Shu had always thought that he was no longer a fool; at the very least, not to the same caliber as the young Itsuki Shu once was, however… unraveling Rinne’s words is a foot further into the grave; though Shu preached that he’d avoid this at all costs, buying into their foolish game too much and letting himself let loose for moments at a time had been his downfall after all.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” mumbles the artist, though his tone is more desolate than it should be. Grim. (Because Rinne’s right, and he knows it. There’s no point in pretending as if he isn’t, though he tries anyway. He wants to save them. He wants to, ever so badly.)
“I do , actually, ‘cause I feel the same way, dumbass. I don’t go askin’ to kiss people every day, y’know? I told ya I’m serious.”
“...Non! You can’t, you can’t be—”
A tremor—like in reaction to a bite of cold, though there’s sweat slicking his hands—wracks Shu’s body, and his throat runs dry, unable to swallow. He feels the same way. Of course he does. Living in the blissful idea that he hadn’t the entire time, convincing himself that he could still prevent it…
The blunt edge of his fingertips mark the flesh of his palms to the point where it burns, though none of the pressure in his body will release. Frustration boils to steam that might as well be steaming out of his ears with how upset he is at himself for allowing this to happen. He can’t even blame Rinne; Shu, after all, is the one who continued to lead the poor man on with agreeing (albeit begrudgingly) to these dates in the first place, and now they both have to face a total loss of what they’ve invested in each other for Shu’s own carelessness.
“Whaddya mean, I can’t? ” Rinne speaks in a lower voice, one that successfully laces Shu in a ribbon of guilt. The corner of the taller’s lips are turned down, but Shu can’t begin to describe how distraught he is to feel Rinne’s gaze. Those eyes, they aren’t demanding by any means, but oh, how it breaks him. “If your answer’s seriously no, then just tell me that straight.”
“No! It’s a no,” Shu immediately blurts before his thoughts can even catch up, and what left of common sense that resides in his brain now scrambles into a litter of curse words.
Rinne’s eyes dim, his head cocking ever so slightly. “...But why? Are ya afraid of a kiss, or—”
There, the dam breaks completely. It’s not about the kiss, surely; it’s not about Rinne at all. But Shu’s never learned these sort of things properly—how to talk things out, how to properly explain himself, how to verbally take the blame without pushing it out on others. Taking any sort of blow, self inflicted or not, is not something Shu’s used to, and his immediate reaction is to defend himself, desperately. So he does, with words that intend to surround Rinne like quicksand, to swallow him whole.
“It’s not about the kiss,” Shu hisses, perhaps the only truth in his attack, “ I hate you! You act as though you know me, but what do we have in common at all aside from minor, menial details? You boil my blood, waste my time, drag me by the threads of my clothes till they’ve all frayed, and yet—! Yet you have the audacity to assume I am smitten with you after a simple conversation or two! The audacity you have to pretend as if you can speak for me, with your ‘gambling intuition’ or what nonsense you constantly spew on about. If I were to be frank, it’s embarrassing to be associated with a nuisance like you at all!”
Silence slowly undoes the healing of all of Shu’s scars; with each thrum of his heart pounding in his ears, he simmers in a selfish rage akin to the Shu Itsuki of a Valkyrie that had just been ripped from its throne; descending from the top of the hill to the grime beneath filth.
And Rinne—
“...Is that how you really feel?”
It feels as though Shu has no heart left to break, though something within him shatters anyway—if not his heart, his soul, or anything left inside of him. Rinne’s quiet, soft spoken; everything jarring and uncharacteristic of him that it drives Shu insane.
I’m sorry, he wants to say; he wants to put his head to the floor and apologize his heart out. But he knows he can’t. People change, but ever so slowly, and Shu isn’t the right man for Rinne anyway. Not now, not soon, and maybe never will he ever be. So, hesitantly, Shu continues his act. Dreadfully, but with reason. “ Yes. I was waiting for the best opportunity to tell you, but—”
Shu chuckles. (Rinne doesn’t know, but it takes all the energy the younger one has left to muster enough air to laugh, even if not a genuine one.) “...You really are a fool, aren’t you Amagi?”
Rinne shifts; he turns away. Only then can Shu confidently look up, to stare at Rinne’s back as the redhead mumbles, “Yeah. Guess I really am, huh.”
Shu realizes now that he’s never often been able to see Rinne from the back like this. Rinne has always been the one to let Shu lead, or they walk side by side, hand in hand. Everything hurts.
“Fuck, fine, ” Rinne huffs. “I’m sorry for wastin’ your time. Ya don’t got the time to spare for guys like me who don’t wear fancy clothin’ n’ can’t speak French, aah? I get it. I get’cha this time, loud n’ clear.”
Rinne takes a step away, and Shu feels the pull of gravity around them multiply.
“It’s really my bad for expectin’ any different ‘bout ya. But y’know, people change, right?” A pause, then a breath. “Goes for the way ya see people too, Shu-kun.”
Rinne proceeds to walk away, a single hand slipping from his pockets to wave to the man still standing behind, staring. “I’ll stop wastin’ all yer time now, so consider yerself lucky that I’m bein’ so generous to ya this time around. See ya later.”
Everything Shu tried to protect is now in shambles, debris thrown over the place, his wounds still raw. But there’s no point in cleaning it all up, nor is there a point to continue watching the frame of Rinne’s grow smaller and smaller as he walks the other direction.
It’s for the better, is the only thing that crosses Shu’s mind, for if he entertains any other thought, he might just collapse right then and there.
…He ought to get home himself then. It’s the only other option, so he does. Alone.
Shu realizes later, a bit too late, that Rinne’s presence is perhaps the only reason he made it out alive on the morning trains. And as to how he’s supposed to make it out on the trains heading back home… well. He hopes at least Kagehira will notice and report something if he goes missing for long enough.
Obviously this isn’t the first time Shu’s love has fallen short. Not to say that the love he’s received from others is wrong—oh, how he yearns to tell Rinne (still, after fifteen days of isolation; he’s heard not even a single mention of Rinne’s name, let alone a strand of his hair) that he meant nothing of what he had said before, about how Rinne’s love is not what’s at fault—but whenever Shu gets tangled up in love, it’s always gone wrong.
And each time this has happened, Shu responds the same way, too—by isolation.
Shu doesn’t really understand why Mika continues to try. His phone says Mika’s called 48 times, has left 17 voice mails, and he’s visited Shu at least once a day to make sure he’s doing alright. That, if Shu knows anything, is Mika’s love, but here he is still, pushing the boy away like he knows best.
(Yet another example of how poorly Shu and love mixes, hm?) It’s obvious by now that Shu deserves none of this. None of the love from Rinne, none of the care from Mika, and—oh, Nito, Nito, Nito—
He can’t just tell Rinne this—at least at the time, Shu couldn’t tell Rinne to his face at the park about the horrors that keep him up at night, but god, how he wished he did. The reason for all of this, for pretending that everything was fine and they could continue to dance their little dance, for overlooking how with each little “date” it was another thread sewn into Rinne for Shu to control—it’s all because Shu, in his stupid little petite frame and ever persistent ego can not love properly. He does not know how. Time and time again, each attempt has never gone right; he’s always suffocated his love of air, had them move in every which way because that was the only way Shu knew how to love. Even when he tried to change.
Even though he’s still changing now.
Shu can not handle Rinne’s love. Or perhaps it’s the other way around—Rinne can not handle Shu’s love. That’s a fact, the bleeding fact that spills black ink over the memory of the past few days. The idol can do nothing but feel his dead heart try to pulse in his chest and hope it stops beating soon.
Why does he need a heart anyway? With how dysfunctional it is, he’s better off not having one. Not loving.
Shu doesn’t feel a lot of things anymore. It’s all sorrow for the most part, and that comes in many shades of blue. Sometimes it’s dotted with red— anger , aimed towards himself; sometimes it’s just empty. Void.
Every now and then, Shu misses Rinne. Hell, it’d be more accurate to say he misses Rinne all the time—his heart stirs to even the thought of his name—though the pain comes like in waves, more prevalent at some times than others. It still hurts all the time, but perhaps Shu is growing a little numb by now. He isn’t surprised by that fact. He wonders if this is how Nazuna felt—numb—in the process of surrendering everything to Shu.
…
Shu’s phone buzzes. It’s lost somewhere in the sheets, quite muffled, but the silence of his room is easy to beat. He doesn’t really know why he bothers to check it anymore; he knows he’ll end up putting his phone back down somewhere where it’ll end up lost in the sheets again in a few minutes. But with the sound of shuffling of fabric, he finds his phone after a few awkward flips of his blanket or two, and then spares it a glance.
Even on the lowest brightness, he has to squint at the screen to properly register the display. And then he reads, “Amagi Rinne.”
And, of course, Shu doesn’t put his phone down as he expected. He reads more—the little text underneath the contact name, and he’s left breathless.
[Amagi Rinne] i have one of ur hats. gonna drop by ur dorm n leave it by ur door in 5
Suddenly, Shu’s heart oozes. Oozes of black, but oh how it breathes, it moves, it beats. Rinne’s coming. Very, very soon. He isn’t ready. Non! He couldn’t possibly be, and it was nothing short of improper to face Rinne of all people now, today , but—
Shu rises from bed. He stumbles; his legs are useless, and leaning against his bedside drawer is perhaps the only reason he manages to remain upright. His lungs burn, his eyes sting, and his nose is congested from all the late night sobs from yesterday, but Rinne.
To be frank, Shu has nothing to say to Rinne. He has no intention of telling him how he feels, he has no intention of letting Rinne know of all the anguish Shu is feeling, but for whatever reason, his mind still yearns to see him. As if the image of Rinne’s chaotic tufts of hair barely kept out of his eyes by that black headband of his is in the process of fading in his head, as if Rinne’s voice isn’t still painfully crisp in his dreams.
Shu moves in such a haggard way to the door, stumbling, tripping, leaning, wheezing, but he moves in a way that reminds him of his second year self, chasing after a boy he had nearly immediately become enamored with. This autonomous way of motion, the lack of control he has over his mind and body that steers him forward to the door is familiar in the most haunting way possible, but there is no stopping it. Not till the door is open, not till the light of the dorm’s hallway is flooding Shu’s eyes.
Has it been five minutes? Shu has yet to even allow his eyes to adjust to the blinding white flooding his irises, but he hears it.
Footsteps, from the left. Approaching. Rinne.
Shu’s legs wobble once more, so he staples himself to the doorframe, conceals himself just barely to anybody on his left by stepping back in a little more to his dorm, and takes a deep breath. The light around him slowly dim; he can see how pale his hand is in the shadow of his dorm now. He’s barely begun to think about how sickly he must look, hair beyond unkempt, pajamas creased every which way, but ocean eyes catch Shu’s attention before long, and any fret to his own appearance is halted. Obliterated, even, like how Shu’s heart feels as it skips a beat or two in Rinne’s presence.
Those gambler’s eyes… look lifeless.
Doll-like.
Perhaps Shu would’ve found it endearing at some point, but Shu’s never realized how much he’s loved how Rinne was full of life and brimming with energy… till he stands here in front of him now, devoid of it all.
Shu clears his throat to talk, but Rinne catches him in the middle of it and speaks first.
“Shu-kun! Long time no see.”
“...”
“What’s wrong, cat got’cher tongue? Ya had lots to say to me the last time we saw each other, what happened?”
What could Shu possibly say? He croaks, he clears his throat once again, and it seems with the pause he makes he might just not say anything in response at all. But it comes like a cough, something to choke on, rough around the edges: “...I’m sorry.”
“...Cut that out, Shu-kun. Ya don’t gotta make yerself seem like a good guy to me or somethin’. I get it. I don’t think badly of ya for it.”
Rather than Shu’s heart dropping to the floor, perhaps it descends to Hell itself. “Non. I’m a horrible person, Amagi.”
“I ain’t here to belittle ya into thinkin’ ya are. Stop sayin’ that.”
Shu feels so helpless. This was a mistake. “ Please, Amagi.”
“...Stop.”
The shorter man obliges. How can he not? When he owes everything to Rinne, who stares at him now with such abysmal eyes. A thought lingers in his brain—he yearns to give Rinne everything of his at this moment, to pour out all the turmoil that’s gone and wreaked havoc in his mind, but it’s silence that stitches Shu’s mouth shut as they share these moments together (their last moments, Shu’s sure of it) in silence.
He watches as Rinne’s eyes slowly wrench together in concern. He’s sure now that the way tufts of his hair stick out is most evident, or perhaps it’s the eyebags under his eyes, or even the sickly color of Shu’s skin. Whatever it is, Rinne bleeds of concern. Shu knows that much about him; he seems apathetic, but when you get to know him the way Shu has, you understand all of the love that flows behind that love of gambling and thrill.
“..Yer hat.” The redhead extends his hand out, to which he holds Shu’s hat as he had said. Shu hadn’t even realized. He had forgotten somewhere in between the emotions. But at least it opens up his throat just this once, for him to utter a thank you. The rest of his words take advantage. A few slivers slip out along with it.
“...Thank you. I—” he hesitates, “...never thought I’d see you again.” The hat returns into Shu’s possession, though he wishes Rinne never let go of it either.
“Figured ya wouldn’t wanna see me.” A low blow to the gut.
“That’s not true.” He means to say ‘I miss you,’ though the conditions now are far from ideal. Shu almost wishes he didn’t have to see Rinne like this, but perhaps it’s better this way than not at all. (Perhaps. He’s still figuring that out.)
“Really? ‘Cause ya made it pretty damn clear—”
“—I didn’t mean it,” Shu interjects, and Rinne’s face shifts to an unreadable expression. Shu hates it.
“Suckin’ up to everybody n’ pretendin’ like yer buddy buddy with everyone ya meet ain’t gonna get’cha anywhere, Shu-kun. I’d rather ya cut the act n’ just make it easier for the both of us.”
“...I’m not. There is hate in this heart of mine—it’s futile to pretend as if there are those in this world that I despise—but you are not one of them. If I truly hated you, you would know. Wouldn’t you?” Because Rinne always seemed to understand certain things about Shu that would always go unsaid. He trusts Rinne to know that much about Shu, too—if trust is still on the table for them at all, that is.
“You tellin’ me to my face that ya hate me’s a pretty sure sign that’cha do. Ya wouldn’t just go n’ say it all o’ the sudden if there ain’t a reason behind it either.”
“There is a reason behind it, but it’s not—” A pause. Shu’s body pleads to take a break, but he takes a breath. “It’s not because I hate you, Amagi.”
“—Then what is it? Yer tellin’ me ya have the balls to tell me ya hate me outta the blue, n’ then when I come over all o’ the sudden after two weeks, ya take it back? Just like that?” Anger slips out—a balled fist by Rinne’s side, a force of his words out from gritted teeth.
Rinne deserves the truth. Mademoiselle would agree, though she’s not here to help Shu out either, so Shu’s not really sure what to do. More silence takes over instead. Shu speaks, but it’s hardly above a whisper. “...I told you, I apologize.”
“I don’t want a damn apology, Shu-kun, I wanna know why.”
“ Because— ” Shu feels nauseous. The reason why comes up his throat like bile; it’s bitter and it’s horrid and it’s everything Shu’s always wanted to keep to himself about.
There’s no pretending that Shu deserves Rinne’s forgiveness anyway; he deserves nothing but damnation for all the shit he’s pulled everybody he’s loved through, and worse.
But the truth remains that Rinne deserves to know. Doesn’t he?
“...Because I don’t deserve you, Amagi.”
Rinne scoffs. He scoffs , and Shu feels his blood run cold. “Don’t fuck with me, Shu-kun. Ya seriously think I’m gonna believe that?”
“Non, you don’t know what I’ve—”
“Hate to burst yer bubble, Shu-kun, but ‘bout everybody in ES knows ‘bout yer lil ex-Valkyrie stunts. It ain’t like I’m expectin’ ya to be a saint.”
“But I ruin people. The people that I love.”
“Like hell ya do. Where’d all that confidence go? I liked ya better when you were babblin’ on ‘bout how yer perfect n’ all the shit ya make is art.”
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“Yeah, yer right, ‘cause knowin’ ‘bout the little you changed nothin’ bout how I feel ‘bout ya. Get it through yer thick skull, Shu-kun. I don’t care ‘bout what ya’ve done in the past, or who ya once were. Ya ain’t the same guy as before.”
Because people change, of course. Because as Shu has learned time and time again through their own conversations, Rinne was quite the different person from before when he first came to the city, too. Something in Shu’s body burns in embarrassment.
“I’ve changed,” Shu admits, “but I’m still not perfect. I still haven’t learned completely, I don’t know how to love you back. I’m—” going to hurt you. Or so he would say, but he’s already done that. Desperation wells in Shu’s eyes; it’s not quite enough to spill, but the barbed wire around Shu’s throat says enough about how high his emotions are by itself.
“So I was right?” Rinne stares. “You do feel that way.”
“...That’s not important.”
“Dumbass. Ya could’ve just said so.” Rinne takes a step forward, and had Shu’s legs any more strength to them, perhaps he’d flee. But instead, Shu’s eyes widen in alarm. “I don’t give a shit ‘bout what ya do and don’t know, Shu-kun, including whether ya know how to love or not, or whatever the hell you’re talkin’ about. You can try to leave a mark on me, but I ain’t the type to just sit around n’ let’cha do whatever the hell ya want with me.”
Defeat stings, it hurts, it’s every emotion that Shu’s always run away from in the past years of his life, but he can’t turn away now. Not when defeat is served from a face he derives comfort from, and not when the words Rinne gives are sharp enough to hurt but speak enough truth to keep Shu there.
“You don’t know for sure.” A mumble from Shu.
“Well, takin’ risks are everything I’m about, y’know.”
“I don’t want to put you at risk.”
Rinne sighs. “I’ll ask ya this again, Shu-kun. Do ya wanna make a bet?”
Shu answers with silence. His eyes are to the ground, so he doesn’t know how Rinne is now, though he feels the eyes feasting on him.
“It ain’t the same as before. Maybe ya’d like this one better.” A soft breath. “The conditions are that ya give me a chance. If it ain’t worth it—if ya end up hurtin’ me or whatever, I’ll steer clear of ya for good. So ya can’t ‘hurt’ me again, or whatever. That’s a promise.”
A promise that tugs at Shu’s heart. “...And if it doesn’t go that way?”
“Common sense, Shu-kun. It all works out, we make out or somethin’, n’ ya learn how to love like how ya keep talkin’ about. If ya can’t get it yerself, then I’ll just keep bitchin’ to ya about it till ya do, ‘cause two heads’re better than one.”
Everything hurts. This isn’t how it is supposed to end.
But you know, maybe that’s okay. Maybe there’s a part of Shu that does want that outcome. Maybe it’s possible that Shu can learn in the way he’s learned other things over the years.
“You’re an idiot, Amagi. Truly the worst of your kind,” Shu answers. He feels the smirk on Rinne’s face, and he anticipates the response.
“N’ that’s supposed to mean..?”
“...I accept your bet, Amagi. So long as you keep your promise.”
It’s relieving to hear Rinne’s laugh again. It eases Shu’s nerves.
“‘Course, Shu-kun! I’m a man o’ my word! It’s like I was tellin’ ya before, I don’t play around with my bets. Especially the ones that I wanna win.”