maybe the guilt is something that will always be there. it has been for a long time now. flaring and ebbing, yet always lingering. there's something oddly satisfying in the way the body seeks out further hurt when the ache is already present. rin can almost taste the way the hurt wells in ai's throat, lacing the undertone of his plea.
his own throat works around nothing. it feels like the words are knotted up in his throat, throbbing in a way they might never escape. but he can't. how much has he taken from ai, and how much has he paid back? shouldn't something like this be easy enough? his lips part, and something bordering a sob slips out instead. his own eyes stinging, that fresh sting welling in the corners and slowly dribbling over]
Do you hate me?
[he blurts out instead, his own weakness and hollowness spilling over the seams. he knows the answer, but he just wants...just like ai has to hear this one thing from rin. so too does rin need his own verification]
...for everything I put you through?
[everything hurts. a giant mess of tangled nerves and feelings that he can't quite vocalize. just another selfish request. rin thinks maybe it's a lie. if it wasn't for the ocean, then maybe--]
...
[he tries to choke it out. he's near doubled over, pulling his hand back to rip against the fabric over his chest. like that would do something to aid in all of this. it doesn't. if anything it makes it worse]
...
[he tries again. rin is well aware of his selfishness. how ai rarely has asked anything of him over the years. and even just a simple request such as that--rin fails at. so miserably. like everything else. it's not the hope that's gotten ai in trouble so much. it's rin. it's always been him. he knows because he stares in the mirror every morning, and that thought creeps into the back of his mind.
it's still you.]
...you never stood a chance.
[it tastes like the biggest lie he's ever spat out. there's no way to know if there was ever any truth behind it. rin's been all too content with putting ai at the back of mind for other people things over the years. there's no way it could have ever ended peacefully, even if an attempt had been made. maybe in another verse, and not one where rin is dimly aware that haru watched him run out after ai. and isn't that just what he's best at?
[Rin's question visibly makes Ai flinch. Even now, even back then-- any time their tongues have crossed like swords, any time they have given each other new scars, even at their absolute lowest points, the thought has never so much as come close to his mind. That Rin could think it had the potential to maybe speaks volumes of how this all has come to be. Ai hiding too much, and too well. To the point laying it bare, even post-mortem, is inconceivable in how deeply shameful it now feels.
Often, metamorphosis was the catalyst for positive change. A caterpillar liquefies into a beautiful butterfly. Coal pulverizes itself into diamonds. But this metamorphosis feels nowhere near as poetic, or kind. If only love could metamorphize into hate; maybe that would have made this all so much easier. If Ai even had the capacity in him to think a single inflammatory thing about Rin, such that he felt it at his core. Maybe then, letting go would be so much easier.
Ai only shakes his head, and presses the knuckle of his pinky to the corner of his eye. His answer an obvious one,]
I could never.
[I'm sorry. Would that he could metamorphize into hate. There will be no catharsis; there will be no place to point and blame and use as a means of getting it all out. There is no metamorphosis. That would imply a continued chapter of living. This is, instead, a death. His love does not cocoon and promise to become a fond memory; it will not compound and pulverize him into a man who has a more certain trust center. It breaks, and shatters, and instead leaves nothing but shame and mortification in its wake. Embarrassed for having ever hoped; ashamed for having inconvenience Rin in such a dreadful way; mortified for having ever let it leave his chest.
Finally, after trying so very hard, Rin gets it out. His tone doesn't sound so sure of himself, and Ai is certain it's only because Rin doesn't want to make himself feel too guilty. How cruel is it, then, that instead of stoking a new bout of waterworks, Rin instead has left Ai with the only genuine smile he's managed to crack since leaving the room?]
Thank you. [Now it's dead.] You've set me free. [I don't know where to go from here.] You'll be a little happier, too. [You won't have to worry about forgetting about me anymore.
Ai leans against the wall. Funny, how when the mind is so potently suppressed, the body picks up its slack; he can't identify when his knees felt like they were starting to give out. His head is turned fully away from Rin, into the corner of the vending area. One arm is held across his body. Minimizing; disappearing.]
Sorry for the trouble I've caused. I promise it won't happen again.
[it takes everything in him to not cross that boundary that ai just so clearly established. to wipe away that tear that ai is beating him to. to the point his hand is already stretching, reaching out but--
i could never.
--and it falls slack against his side. even more does it take still to fight the urge to scream at ai. to shake him by his collar, and beg to know why. why doesn't he hate him? why is rin matsuoka, the one person who does everything wrong between them, not worthy of that feeling? but he remembers a not so distant past, when rin acted similarly and. well.
that was the fallout that precedent all of this, wasn't it? and so, the thought doesn't flit across his mind again. and he just stands there, and suffers alongside ai. carrying the heavy knowledge of messing all of this up. it wasn't like a dive he could right or a turn he fucked up that he could hope to make ground for. the damage was done. and it that smile of sincerity just opens his own waterworks instead.
rin doesn't think he'll be happier. misery and guilt go hand in hand, and rin is famous for carrying things lost past their prime. it's a talent, really. something that when he can't sleep in the middle of the night he pours over, inflicting those deep cuts and scars on his own psyche. so he tries to focus on that little thing, something ai says that rin...doesn't exactly believe. you've set me free. and so he tries. he'll try. if only to make up for all his own damage he's caused.
ai appears to shrink into himself further than when rin found him, and hesitantly...rin takes a step back. instead of closing that gap with violence or comfort like he so desperately wants to. or maybe it's to keep the tears streaming down his face from ai's view as he fixates on the carpet]
...don't.
[rin does manage to choke out however, his voice near shattering as it finally works its way out of his throat]
Don't you dare blame yourself.
[and he knows asking might be fruitless because this is ai. and rin knows all too well how it feels to carry those things. but]
[Rin's lucky, for a time. That Ai's face is turned away, and so he can't see the way shattered glass starts to overtake Rin's gaze, too. But that nicety is shortlived, as Rin's own voice gives him away. Ai's gut lurches. He guesses there's no way for a clean break here, much as he's tried. I guess I'm still a friend, after all.
If only Ai could have internalized that sooner. A night ago, a couple months ago, five years ago. Maybe then, all of this could be avoided.
It is that exact line of thinking why Rin's attempts at downplaying Ai's obvious involvement as far as he sees it nearly make him angry, and have Ai whipping his gaze back to Rin. Taking him in, in his guilt. Regret? Ai couldn't fathom why; a part of him is bothered that Rin doesn't just take the free road paved for him already. Sitting here among wreckage. All while saying something like that-- Ai conjures enough strength to lean off the wall, drop his arms to his sides.]
I've had years to make it go away, yet I never did. [Ai's eyebrows fold; he's angry.] You've thought the same. How much easier it'd all be if not for--
[... His voice dies. Because even now, even now, with nothing left to even speak of, he can't give it a name. He pulls in a breath and tries again,]
-- if I had let it go. Because then you never would have ran away.
[The fury in his eyes die out immediately, memories of that evening washing over him like tar. He really should have gotten the hint, back then. In that moment. To his credit, he did try to put the bird back in its cage, lock it tight. Like a fool he kept choosing hope where its light peeked from the dimmest corners. If he's honest with himself, the heartbreak he will get over. But feeling so stupid, so ashamed-- those are the reasons his eyes can't linger on Rin's for much longer, casting down to the floor.
Was it worth it? Knowing you're not being met in the middle. Even if it hurt. Even if I only got that feeling momentarily. It was fucking worth it. Maybe I'm a coward after all.
The inevitability of it all, the hindsight that he should have trusted his gut makes the back of his eyes sting all over again. Stupid. Useless. Stupid.
Ai, suddenly a hypocrite, sways past Rin and into the mouth of the hallway.]
I'm going to get my phone and wallet.
[And lick his wounds, somewhere. He isn't sure where, but knows for damn sure plans are off for the night. Them being off, in fact, being the reason this all spiraled off the precipice to begin with. Which is more pathetic, going out on his own to barhop and avoid reality until he has no choice but to come back to the hotel at four am, or begging Sousuke to let him stay the night? Usually when he had to get it all out, in his adult age, he'd just go to the pool...
A horrible thought crosses his mind. I want to go home. How empty it all feels, without the back of maroon hair in front of him when he looks ahead. Ai's got a lot of thinking to do.]
[rin shrinks a little, when ai's tone takes on something more heated. it's enough to make ai swell and burst from his safe space against the wall. and that has rin shrinking a little in turn, almost taking a step backwards, hesitating in the process. because if there was one thing he promised himself, it would be that he wouldn't run anymore. it doesn't matter who from. he's sick of treating people to the same old sight over and over again.
his back retreating and fleeing the scene of the crime.
it's something rin is firm in his belief in. that the fallout here was all his own. anybody with feelings for someone would fall into line similarly. rin took advantage of ai's kindness. he had an inkling, but really he should have known completely. so much for being a best friend, right? it's hard for him to keep ai's gaze however, and he finds his own stays pointed towards the carpet pile, his lips screwed up so they stay shut and there's no further backlash or retorts.
rin would never. the only thing he could point the blame towards was his own recklessness. how his own behavior tore these walls of ignorance down. another reminder of how ai did everything right. how everyone got it wrong, because rin bolted. first to sousuke, who he then ran from in turn. the emotional vulnerability buried in booze and with a friend who got a bit too mouthy with the barley and hops they chugged together. nothing beyond that happened, truly but...the implications were clear enough. the brands rin wore, that everyone assumed were ai weren't even--]
...if it makes you feel better to think that, sure.
[his voice sounds so hollow, the traces of chokes and sobs still lingering on the edge of his tone. rin knows it's not true. ai's not the one at fault here. it's all rin. but he could scream until he was blue in the face and he doesn't think ai would ever let himself live everything down. and rin doesn't know how to break through that mindset. he's lived in it. shallowly thinking everything and everyone around him was out to get him, that he was at blame for everything bad in the world.
he blinks the tears from his eyes, but before he can retort, ai is sweeping past him. and suddenly rin knows the feeling. seeing someone run. leave because everything is too overwhelming. and this time, he doesn't break his stance to follow. he did not that not twenty minutes ago, and look at the aches it's caused now. he bites his lip, and just nods. because what else can he do? what else can he say at this point?
...stupid.
he hates how stupid he is. and everything he's broken in his miserably short life. and so rin tucks himself behind the vending machine this time, taking in a shuddering inhale, slamming his fist back against the wall. once. twice]
[He would have fought. If Rin gave push-back, tried to root Ai in this conversation he thinks is done, tried to force him to believe this was anything other than objectively his fault, he would have fought. Last remnants of strength he has in his body, he'd have torn his wrist from Rin's, grappled him, shoved him against the wall, throttled him-- something, anything.
But he wins his gamble. That Rin will let him go. It's a cruelty, to bank on such a thing in the first place. But Ai is also painfully aware there is nothing left to fix; just porcelain to be picked up and thrown away. There's no real reason to stop him, not this time.
Halfway down the hallway, it hits Ai like a truck that Haruka is still in the room, and probably had to watch Rin run out after Ai somewhat unceremoniously made it out in one piece. He'd done his best to keep a lid on it all, but. He knows more than either of them, Haruka is perceptive.
Haruka also won. Or, well-- there had been nothing to win. If Ai had been smarter, he'd have realized that years ago. All the same, Ai knows he will enter the hotel room to ocean blue eyes that will look upon him with nothing but raw, unmitigated pity, and Ai isn't ready for that.
At the front of the door, he reaches into his pocket--
...
Right. It's inside the room. Kick him while he's down. Or, maybe, this is just desserts for being the biggest, most useless woebegone this side of the Atlantic. Ai quietly presses his head against the wood of the door, and extends a modicum more self-control than Rin has back in the hallway to not just bang on the door. Not for entry, but out of frustration.
He doesn't bother wiping at his eyes; the redness around them is impossible to miss. Ai just keeps them glued down onto the floor as he, maybe too gingerly, knocks.]
[ai's unfortunately correct in his observations. haru is perceptive--almost to a fault. just like the stubbornness of rin is a fault. just like the overwhelming tenacity of ai is a fault. people often times can rise above their flaws, but other times they're subject to them.
when rin fled the room, something in haru sunk. it wasn't born of bitterness or sour or anything else. maybe pity wasn't the right word either. just a clawing, gaping hole left. because haru couldn't possibly be privy to the happenings between the two beyond his own assumptions, beyond the few things he's been able to piece together from what nitori has told him. and there's never been any bitterness held in its place. if there was some indication that rin would rather chase nitori down then, who was haru to stop him?
...even if he hasn't quite been able to get a read on rin's behavior since the night before.
...and no, haru was not jealous over the whole thing with rin swimming with nitori either.
the clock ticks on, and haru picks one of his books out of his half unpacked suitcase to pour over. it garners his attention for a short while, even if maybe he isn't as engrossed as he could be in it. the quiet is nice, he thinks to himself. it's not that he minds the company he's been placed with either. maybe it's a little more he aches for whatever it is they're trying to work out.
...but that soft rap at the door tugs him from his reading. he blinks at it for a moment, brows furrowed. he can't think of who it might be. rin and nitori both have roomkeys, so why--
right. his gaze settles on the forgotten objects strewn on nitori's bed and nightstand. haru places his book down against the sheets, making his way over to open the door. he doesn't shoot nitori down with looks of pity or anything else. merely just]
You forgot this.
[haru hands the items to him gingerly, as he steps aside, holding the door open for nitori if he wants to come in. he keeps his tone even as it so often is. his words aren't chastising or anything else. and he doesn't bother commenting on the wet sheen he sees, the red tinge in those blue eyes. he hates when people point out his emotions when they shine through. he would never do the same to someone else.
but if nitori wants to leave again, that's fine too. he doesn't ask about rin, he doesn't need to and doesn't want to right now]
[He expected Haruka to open the door and effectively look right through him, but Ai has no way of knowing how to interpret the fact Haruka is ready with his items. It's unfavourable, the first thought that crosses his mind. That Haruka is trying to usher him out faster. Had, perhaps, been waiting for the opportunity to do so. Rin drove the nail in, and this is simply the hammer finally coming down.
... But Ai knows Haruka better than that. Has known him to have an attitude, maybe, but not to be malicious. Never with him. I suppose he never saw me enough of a threat to warrant such a thing. Weak at best; forgettable at worst. And he doubts his name has been on Rin's tongue when in Haruka's company, so whatever impression Haruka's gotten over the years has been through sheer examination. If Haruka thinks him weak and forgettable, it's his own fault.
No. Ai has to try hard and not be uncharitable just because he's in the pits. It's more than likely Haruka had a semblance of what was going on, and is just trying to be helpful. Forensics help sell this through to Ai's, yes, tenacious head, which is presently dead-set on trying to regain control in whatever possible way it can so he can self-flagellate in peace; Haruka stays to the side, as if to usher Ai in if he'd like. Ai recalls the trinket Haruka had gifted him the day before--
He's beyond caring about dignity, and tries to keep his sniff quiet as he takes hold of his belongings, placing them in his pockets. Can't meet Haruka's eyes, and is maybe too quick to turn back around, but doesn't do so before bowing politely.]
Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.
[Beyond fetching Ai his keycard and phone and wallet. Sorry for all the misunderstandings. Sorry I couldn't have done this sooner. Sorry, I'm sorry. He hesitates, because Ai is instinctively about to deliver a platitude, something about coming back later. But that'd be a half-truth; he doesn't know where he's going, and so doesn't know when or if he'll be back. He just cannot be here right now. So without turning around, less out of stubborn need and more because he wants to spare Haruka the trouble, Ai shuffles his way back down the hallway.
Takes the long way to the elevators, hopeful to avoid Rin.
Depresses the down button and... Waits. Where to go from here? Sousuke is likely occupied, if not out already. His uncle doesn't have the faith in him - Ai should have listened to him those couple of weeks ago, secondhand as the delivery might've been from Rin's mouth - and Ai can't handle what he is sure is an I told you so.
A mistake. Had Rin been reluctant to deliver it at the time because a part of him knew Mikhail was right? Ai presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. From now on, I'm trusting my gut.
[when that roster was being called off, and assignments were being made, sousuke had a bad feeling this all might come to a head. not that's he's intimately knowledgeable with the happenings between the three. he knows enough from the all japan, and they haven't really touched on it much since so.
he could almost feel the welling of pain in ai from across the room hearing that. and it's exactly why he looked at rin the way he did. almost as if silently imploring him switch with me. because moments later, miyakawa was scolding him for sounding like he just choked on a rough dicking and then sousuke was paired off with the younger kirishima. who secretly was probably the perfect roommate in this whole, dramatic scenario. or maybe...
maybe he should have offered to switch with ai, he thinks to himself as he watches the trio slump towards the elevator, nanase seeming none the wiser. just how oblivious was that guy? rin wouldn't dare try anything, if he even wanted to, with sousuke in the room. him and nanase could shoot daggers at one another for no reason in particular, and it would be fine. awkward. but fine...
but the gesture died on his tongue. because there was one thing he didn't want to give, and ai would hardly appreciate in turn. pity. so he refrained, and went to his thankfully easy bunking situation. ikuya was quiet, clean, respectful and easy. he went out that night with everyone, but...he texts ai, but still doesn't offer anything besides a light gesture of company. nothing pressurizing or anything. because he would hate it too if he were in ai's shoes.
...but when he gets a picture of everyone out in a drunken tizzy, he frowns and texts ai.
you stayed in?
. . .
did you eat
and he would have offered to bring ai food, but the responses seemed tight and exasperated so he refrained once more. and spent a nice silent evening catching up on his sleep. is briefly awakened when kirishima comes back, clearly inebriated. which only intensifies his concern.
but still, he refrains. because pity is the last thing he's good at giving. and it's the last thing he thinks ai would appreciate in turn. tomorrow is similarly tight wound. sousuke sleeps through most of the morning, his jetlag still heavy on his mind. ikuya is dead to the world, and slips out silently when he eventually does forces himself into some land training.
he just isn't feeling the water today. and so he stays away, staring down at his phone every now and again. ai and rin and nanase are surely all practicing. unless something else happened he's not privy too. so the day goes about much like it normally does. he hits the spread they have for the athletes a few times, gets turned around more than once in his jog, and has to finally ask a (thankfully english speaking) local, and he's able to discern his right from left again and makes his way back to the hotel.
shower. eat. hit the gym at the hotel for a while (hey it's not athlete training center but it will do for his jetlagged brain). climbing back on the elevator and--]
...you look like shit.
[an astute observation as he sees ai climb on. his tone holds no pity or cruelty or anything else. just a usual flat tone. no i told you sos or anything else to be found in this steel box]
[That tall, almost foreboding presence is completely lost on him. Ai was so sucked into the misery of his own world, licking his own wounds, that the only other sound he'd had his ears primed for were the cadence of Rin's footfalls; everything else disappeared into background noise. It's why Ai almost startles after he steps inside, and turns around, clearly out of his wits what with the fact he hasn't hit a button yet. In front of him at once is Sousuke, high on the list of people he would have preferred didn't see him in this sorry state. Another cruel thought for the bucket, my luck is awful.
Because he sees Sousuke and immediately jumps to hearts exposed in a natatorium parking garage. Would Sousuke still be jealous now?
Ai titters, though there's no lift of his lips to match the sound. Just an arm that crosses his body to hold his side protectively, and a cheek turned because looking at Sousuke right now only makes the shame well up inside.]
Thanks. [Who is to say, why suddenly he's trying to iron out his countenance? Sousuke has always been the one he could bear his heart to, who understood him fundamentally. Maybe the idea of a mirror is what intimidates Ai into trying to pretend he isn't miserable,] Feel like it, too.
[The elevator door closes. Ai leans forward and just past Sousuke to hit the lobby button, after a moment of consideration. He leans against the back wall of the elevator, and brings sorry, tired, red eyes up to level his gaze at Sousuke. Instantly, any attempt at being strong washes away; his expression is exhausted more than it is painfully heartbroken. Ai chooses his words carefully, because the last thing he wants is pity... Or, for Sousuke to get angry on his behalf. The team needs to function as a team, despite this mess.
[it's easy to see how unsettled ai is. so much so he didn't notice sousuke standing in there to begin with. and while his tone may have come off aggressive or harsh to any other person, it's just their language.
and ai doesn't quite rise to it. not that he was expecting him to, of course. he'll let ai bare his heart or scream at him or whatever he needs to do because/ it's over hits and sousuke raises a brow at him. there's so many implications behind those two simple words. but...things he's thought ai had surely moved past. true, rin went right back to sleeping on his floor. even after showing up at sousuke's in the rain and sousuke not even knowing he was back in town. it's not like he holds it against ai or anything for not telling him but--]
For something to be over, it had to be something to start with.
[...realistically, he's still not trying to be harsh. his tone isn't overbearing or anything else. it comes off as more of a gentle reminder. he feels no pangs towards ai for what he got to experience. that's not his style, at least not anymore. they've all grown up now...well. maybe most. rin seems stuck in his own ass sometimes, but what else is new?]
Do I want to know?
[he tries not to think into that slip of vulnerability he shared in that parking garage not so long ago. even if ai was the only person on earth he would let see that side. and he doesn't need to stiffen at the implications, because he knows rin and nanase are sharing that room too. he won't ask ai what horrors he's befallen or anything else.
even if there is that tug and pique of curiousity.
instead, sousuke just closes the gap, leaning against ai's side lightly, looking down into those tear stained eyes for only a moment. though there's no pity, just a fleeting hint of concern in turquoise. he might be pissed, sure. but adulthood and responsibility is a funny thing. it's been his dream to stand on this stage with rin. and now they're here]
[The laugh Ai looses is self-deprecating, cruel, and tired.]
I'm lovesick, Sousuke-senpai. Not delusional.
[Because the only thing that had changed from before was experience. Rin dangled it in front of him, however accidentally, like a carrot. Ai stupidly reached for it and thus began the countdown to armageddon. His feelings throughout it all had never once changed; he had lived with his unreciprocated, one-sided love for years. It strengthened him. But a couple mistakes in, and a bit too much hope, and it suddenly metamorphized into something unrecognizable. No longer wind in his sails, but an anchor.
Is it more or less pathetic if he says it that way? I was fine with it being that way when I didn't know what was on the other side. The thought of just how much he's choosing to let go overwhelms him again; Ai is not ready to confront reconfiguring his entire worldview. Not so quickly. He has to, but it hurts. It brings a fresh wave of tears kicking and screaming at the back of his eyes, but he stalwartly refuses to let them fall this time.
But, maybe, he just leans over on Sousuke a little bit.]
All of this. [Ai taps his chest, his heart.] Is over.
[Maybe not instantly, but with time. He'd said as much to Rin: you set me free. It was Ai's duty to actually follow through now. Finally armed with a knife, he can do all involved the favour of killing it, properly, once and for all.
... Sousuke's question lingers over his head. Just as he has conjured the courage to speak on it, the elevator dings its arrival on the lobby. Ai exhales; nowhere feels safe right now. Not outside, not inside, nowhere. Some of their teammates are mulling about, which is even worse. Ai leans off from Sousuke not to step outside but just to furiously jab at the close door button, and arbitrarily hits the topmost floor. The doors begin to close.
Up and down, in a limbo, unsure of when he'll get off; it feels like an apt analogy for the past couple of months.
Ai picks at the skin around his cuticle and stares down at the floor.]
... You can just tell, sometimes. [He takes a slow breath.] They were on top of each other when they came in last night. Tongues were too loose. That was enough.
...
[His shoulders hike up practically to his ears.]
Rin-senpai made a whole fuss about it. Me not being there last night. The morning was fine, I was even looking forward to tonight. But, I made a mistake. I asked Nanase-san if he was going to come. And when he hesitated, Rin-senpai hesitated.
[ba-dum. A pulsing ache in the echoes of such a there-and-gone moment. The straw that breaks it hardly identifiable from the rest, after all. Ai shrugs, and with it, his shoulders lower.]
Not even-- [The breath he sucks in is scornful.] Not even as this pathetic, useless-- But as a friend. Being left behind, I couldn't take it. And now we're here.
[spoken as evenly as he can muster, a shrugging tone that he's so famous for. the tears start rolling again, and there's a fresh well of sympathy despite trying to swallow it down. it's a disgusting feeling. to want someone. he knows it, he's lived it. but life goes on, life will go on, and trying to drive that message home and accept is sometimes the harshest reality of all.
he doesn't move to stop it, only leans over ai to press the button to his floor. it'll go up, back down. and at the quiet floor it will give a moment of reprieve, ai a chance to go or do what he wants. play up and down or go mope in solitude. sousuke will give him his space or coddle silently through it but...he doesn't stiffen when ai leans against him. just leans back into it a little, that pressure hopefully offering what his words sometimes lack in. continues to listen...
he squints at ai, quietly putting a hand up to move him from the self inflicted bad habits he's currently inflicting on his cuticle]
Think they were all trashed. Kirishima wasn't much better off when he got back.
[is it reassuring? probably not, but. sousuke's hope is to lessen the blow. he can't imagine rin or nanase indulging in something like that so cruelly right in front of ai, trashed or not. and he tries to give ai some logic, because rin might be an asshole but...]
You really think they're trying to get you out of the room? Rin might be stupid, but other than touchy...can't imagine he'd get up to that here.
[or at least that's how sousuke yamazaki logics it in the tangles of his head. he can't imagine any earth where rin matsuoka and haruka nanase fuck each other or anything else at a professional event. rin might be stupid enough to think about doing it but. especially not when times matter, not to mention reputations and international relations...]
Think you assumed. But that's just me.
[he shrugs. he realizes his hand hasn't left ai's since trying to stop the fidgeting and so he just offers it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. it's his place to be ai's voice of reason. and it's ai's place to ground sousuke in all these ridiculous affairs they've encountered over the years. sousuke pulls his hand back to stuff into his pocket, staring at the elevator door as they near the top floor]
Could probably figure a switch if it bothers you that much.
[Ai almost rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, loose and jumbled thoughts doing him no favours in painting the picture for Sousuke. Not of what all has gone on in the room, and not of what all is presently going on in his chest. From where his hand has been freed, Ai pinches his brow. Crying always ends in a headache...]
No. In fact, if Rin-senpai or Nanase-san wanted me out, it would have been a blessing in disguise. But, that isn't it. [Ai lowers his hand some and looks to Sousuke from his periphery.]
In or out of the room, Rin-senpai made his priority clear. If Nanase-san wasn't going, he wasn't either.
[And how much guilt would Rin have carried, then? Forcing himself out on a principle. Thinking about how much of Rin's clemency comes down to guilt and has for weeks, months leaves Ai pressing his palms to his eye sockets. He's never felt so stupid, so ran over in his entire god damn life.
Maybe he did assume. Maybe he took Rin's sudden hesitance in an entirely wrong direction. Ai isn't so sure he actually cares. Like a horrific and painful cyst, that lapse has led Ai to finally purge it, once and for all. Much like his place in Rin's life, it could have been anything else: an errant text, a glance he caught, a poorly worded sentence. A replaceable happenstance with a predetermined outcome.
Ai shakes his head, at the mention of a room switch. And he pulls a self-deprecating laugh, shoulders hiked up to his ears.]
Isn't that pathetic? I'm pathetic enough as it is. If I can't see this through to the end of camp, I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror. I want to leave this place with a shred of dignity left. I'm not going to do that if I run.
[Even if he's wholly sure at least two people would think otherwise. Not for any untoward reasons, either, but. Plainly put, Ai's the only one making things awkward. Third wheel since well before All Japan.
The elevator reaches the top floor, and the doors open. Ai does not step out.]
Besides, [His voice comes out a touch quieter, the doors closing again and the elevator beginning its descent to Sousuke's floor,] I know it'd make Rin-senpai feel even worse. I don't want to burden him anymore.
...
[Ai sucks in an attempt at a calming breath.]
... But if, maybe, for just a few hours. [I could come to your place. Ai doesn't care if Ikuya is there, too. He bows his torso,] Please.
[sousuke points out. not a dig, not meant to kick ai while he's down... but an acute observation, meeting that sideways glance. sometimes, it's maddening how similar the two of them are. too stupid to see logic staring them straight in the fact]
Don't see how it's pathetic. I'd do the same.
[he's so so lucky with his situation. it's disgusting. and he levels ai with a look and a raised brow that speaks volumes. would you think the same of me? or does it only apply when it comes to you? and hopefully ai gets the message. because sousuke will absolutely vocalize it if it doesn't get through his thick skull.
sousuke sighs, pinching ai's wrist. it's nothing bruising, but a snap of attentiveness as the elevator makes its way back down towards his own floor. one he plans on stopping at, and dragging ai out tooth and nail at this point. the self deprecation is getting old. and sousuke's reminded of something he said in a not so distant future]
You should. He's a pain and deserves it.
[...his breath stops in his throat.
for a myriad of reasons. and he hates every single one. one reigns into something akin to pity. which he hates dishing out and he knows ai would hate being on the receiving end of even more. the second annoyance at ai running away from something that seems sad, but...he quickly snuffs that out. because it isn't fair to look down on him like that. the third or tenth being his mind travels somewhere else.
back to when they were busy burying something selfish into one another. or maybe it was an equal myriad of things. something they couldn't have, something they wanted to explore together, something to blow off steam, something something something--]
Yeah.
[the doors open, and sousuke's fingers loop around ai's wrist in a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. there's still teammates that might take anything beyond rin matsuoka being annoying and touchy as something else entirely. rin can get away with it. sousuke? ai? not so much.
his and kirishima's room is right near the elevator. sousuke doesn't think he's back yet. he casts a glance back to ai to see if he's still following]
Long as you need the place. It's yours.
[he opens the door for him, a scene similar to something many months ago that sousuke isn't even privy to]
[Ai shrinks under that look, because there is not a world or a parallel universe or an alternate reality in which he'd ever come to describe Sousuke as pathetic. And the underlaying message is clear, even if Ai doesn't agree. Because yes, it's rules for thee but not for me; he's allowed to look down upon himself all he likes, thanks. Double standards apply when the gap between your self-expectation and reality is so painstakingly big.
He senses it. Because he's so so used to being attuned to every single awry wavelength sent by Rin, every momentary dissociation, every new inch of distance. Can sense, for a moment, Sousuke is far away. All it takes is that small hitch of his breath to know as much. Why? Ai couldn't answer; the source of the misery in this elevator was one they both shared, so the reasons were endless. Ai wasn't stupid enough to ask about it. So profusely buried under his own mortification and heartbreak, Ai for a fleeting moment nearly forgets exactly with whom he'd co-miserated these feelings before, and how.
It's only as Sousuke squeezes his wrist, offers him reasurance, and starts to step off the elevator that Ai remembers in full.
Ai's turn to hold his breath in his chest as he steps off the elevator to follow behind Sousuke, bowing politely as he enters the room. It feels mean to say, but he's a bit relieved Ikuya isn't back yet; while he's friendly enough with his senior, Ai really wasn't amenable to explaining the circumstance for why his eyes are so red to anyone. Wouldn't have to Sousuke if not for the unique history and bond they share.
He toes off his shoes inside. Ambles somewhat slowly, absently to the middle of the room. With only two to occupy, it feels much less cramped than his room; Ai's envious. He looks around, tries to determine whose bed is whose.
... Seemingly stuck in pursuit of making himself smaller, Ai instead opts to sit in the armchair. Waits until Sousuke's come in and has shut the door to let his thoughts begin to roam again.
Roam they do, turning over and over in his head, trying to coalesce onto his tongue. It's difficult; this part of their shared woe they've never exactly broached before. Ai, in some ways, feared the answer. He brings one knee up to his chest, palms stacked on top of it, and his chin atop them.]
[double standards apply when someone has been so blindsided that they forget how many hundreds of thousands of people on earth find themselves tangled in similar circumstances. sometimes even closer than expected...
though sousuke rolls his eyes when ai gives that stiff little bow, nudging the back of ai's leg as he lets the door close behind them. his own bed is tucked away under the window. an amicable decision considering ikuya sleeps with a face mask to block out any sliver of light through those blackout curtains, and closer to the bathroom which...worked out especially well after how hammered he got last night. sousuke seems satisfied with ai making himself comfortable though, as he lazily kicks off his own shoes and stalks off towards his bed, letting himself flop onto it with a sigh.
...though ai's seemingly out of nowhere question (it's not) makes him pause momentarily. his expression doesn't dwindle, but instead shifts up towards the ceiling. he scoots back on his bed a little, letting his back press against the wall underneath the windowsill. to any normal observer, his gaze might seem normal, but. certainly to anyone really looking there's something flitting across his expression]
Depends on what you mean.
[sousuke shrugs. there's no other way to answer it. no he never stopped thinking about rin. yes he stopped thinking about him like That. tried to let go of his swelling jealousy over that other shade of blue, that fire that's been lit elsewhere.
despite the roaring temptations throughout the years to close that gap. to bury in some desire. but he's glad he never did--glad he's not in ai's shoes right now. though that circumstance is something else entirely. something that could only be described as some cruelty of the universe]
...sort of.
[he rubs the back of his neck with a sigh, letting his gaze settle back towards ai]
Can't say I would've been able to keep it in if I were in your shoes, though.
[Ai listens, and doesn't look at Sousuke as he does. Doesn't have to; he trusts Sousuke to communicate what he needs to with his words, and Ai has found with time it is often the case with this senior of his in particular that what is left unsaid is often where the power and impetus of a sentence really is.
Which leaves him-- uncertain, and maybe disappointed. Of course he'd been hoping for a yep, I'm cured of red or something. I learned to love again or It was easy to leave it all behind. Ai so badly yearned for that kind of reassurance and model placed in front of him, because--]
I don't know how to do it.
[Without him in the center of it all. Ai wishes he could have just called it an unrelenting childhood friendship; unfortunately, he was lost from the onset. Let friendship become synonymous with feelings that were anything but, for so many years. Untangling the two seemed, right now, like an impossible task. Moving on synonymous with leaving behind the myriad parts of his life currently wrapped up in Rin. So many friendships. Competitive swimming. His god damn apartment!
He leans forward to press the heels of his palms into the sockets of his eyes. He isn't crying; more, it's as if he's trying to push away the headache of it all. Presses both of his hands flat to drag them up and over his forehead, through his hair, which now lays unkempt in the wake. His hands once again link near his ankle, and Ai turns his cheek on top of his knee, looking at the hotel wall plaster.
One big breath in. One long sigh out.]
It'd be easier if I didn't,
[They both know. Ai sucks air back into his lungs and continues his thought,]
-- Because. Before that moment in time, I never really cared to imagine or want for something different. That kind of hope, it's dangerous. Before then, maybe it'd be simpler, like you.
...
[A guilt weighs on him. Ruining a good thing. Tanking his most cherished friendship. Likely ruining Rin's most trusted confidant. Ai's knuckles turn white, how tightly they're gripping his skin.]
[if only sousuke could provide that kind of lie...maybe his own life would look a little different. but that's neither here nor there. it's just another page in the life of sousuke yamazaki. another page in ai, a novel that weaves so intricately, the rawness strikes anyone who lays eyes on it...
and he wishes he could give ai some sort of manual, step by step on how exactly to do that. it's even harder still, all being on a team together...vying for relay spots, their own interpersonal dramas over the last few months-- though selfishly, there's a small tug to close the distance himself to offer some reassurance. the little tryst they used to twist themselves into over locker room benches and dorm rooms when their dorm-mates were away pursuing their own lives and aspirations]
Nobody said life was simple.
[he ventured plainly, standing up, and crossing the distance. sousuke knows ai doesn't like pity. like people are looking down at him. and so sousuke doesn't offer it. just presses his hand on his shoulder, not sparing him a glance but fixing his gaze out the window. like some far off memory was flooding past the window pane]
God knows mine isn't.
[he laughs very softly, a barely there thing. before he squeezes ai's shoulder and lets go, pushing his hand back into his pocket. he shrugs at ai dwelling over his times of all things. and while yes, the road to athens felt like the whole world...there would be others. they hadn't peaked yet. there was still another shot. and with ai's stamina? hell, there might be many, many more to come. coupled with that bold determination that leaked from a certain redhead they both knew...]
They're just times. They'll be better another day.
[he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck]
...least you've got times recorded today. Gonna get my ass chewed tomorrow...
[maybe. there were plenty of hungover slobs who probably didn't haul themselves down to the pool either. and miyakawa would surely clip them with her clipboard, chastise them and make them freestyle lap until they dropped.
such was the life of a professional athlete.
sousuke leaned against the armchair, crossing his arms, as he tilts his gaze up towards the ceiling. it's quiet for a minute. before he decidedly sighs, and finally looks down at ai]
Just keep being you.
[he picks at ai's shirt, like he was smoothing out a wrinkle before pulling his hand back again, gesturing to the bed closest to the window]
Bed's there if you need it. Doubt Kirishima would care if you used his either though.
[They're just times. Ai has half a mind to huff and level Sousuke with a leer, but finds he doesn't even have the energy to expend for it. But let the record show the sordid, sour thought that flitted through his mind was simple: easy for a gold medalist to say.
It'd be a cover for the truly worrying thoughts swirling only barely deeper. About if it was worth it anymore. What finding or reshaping motivation will look like. About how much easier it'd be to quit, leave it all behind, start fresh somewhere where his entire life isn't caught up in the undertow of one bad decision. Unfortunately for him, Ai isn't capable of quitting. His self-hatred rarely turns inward to scorn himself for his better qualities, but on this occasion, he finds himself thinking over and over and over and over and over how much easier it'd all be if he was just a slightly worse version of himself.
One he can tackle, though, is feeling like a nuisance. Burdening Sousuke with his morose company, and leveling him with such heavy questions, it was unfair. And because Ai is perceptive, he can tell Sousuke is trying to fight the urge not to coo you poor thing or something similarly condescending and pitiful. Not because Ai is worthy of pity, but because the situation is pitiful! He's appreciative, however, of Sousuke's attempts to bridge that gap. Between Ai's guilt, and Sousuke's outlook. Grateful for the hand on his shoulder and the weight leaning against the chair, present without asking to be.
Right. That elicits a thought, as sour as the rest.]
I shouldn't stay for too long. Then that'd make two of us who looked to you like a scapegoat, and I'm not sure I could live with that either.
[Guilt, guilt, guilt. Ai leans over, unabashedly and wholly leaning his bodyweight on the silhouette of Sousuke's arm and side. Turns his head outward to bury it against him, even. Of all things, it elicits an anxiety response first. Asking, seeking, begging, all the things every single nerve in his body is programmed not to do. But after a second, his shoulders relax; his breathing slows. And he does the unthinkable, and allows himself the indulgence of a friend's reassurances. Without the veneer of a tryst, and without the motivation of outrunning something. Just raw, human-to-human.]
The next time we talk, I want it to be normal. I want to ask how your day was, and I want you to tell me a story about how you got back to the hotel late because you got turned around. I want to tell you about the food I ate, and I want us to laugh at our broken French. I don't want to think about Rin-senpai, or Nanase-san, or swimming.
[He hangs his arm just barely over the armrest; it's enough to collect Sousuke's hand into his.]
Thank you for being my friend. I'll try to be a better one soon, I promise.
[he might be a gold medalist. but ai's well being trumps that every day. and if sousuke knew what self deprecation ai was slipping into, he might whack him upside the head.
and like sousuke can read ai, he picks up on it. the moment it slips. i shouldn't stay for too long. he raises a brow, eyes hardening a bit. even if the sourness was completely withheld from ai's tone, sousuke would know it was there. even if ai tittered that everything was fine, he was over it and times were the only thing that mattered, sousuke would know it was false.
there's something almost glum. a less than beautiful thing in the art of knowing somebody so intimately. sousuke wonders sometimes...in all the time they spent together, can ai perceive rin in the same fashion?
...can rin?]
I'm nobody's scapegoat.
[and the tone matches that. he'll perceive himself as he wishes to. and it's almost an insult that ai spirals into such a point that he unknowingly throws an insult like that out there. sousuke is his own. he won't let himself be used. he wants to be there for the people around him, the people he loves and cares about. even when it's finding nanase half dead on the side of the road...he'll be there.
and he takes the pressure, and returns it in kind. tightens his hold on the back of ai's head, keeping him there. maybe there's something selfish in it. he wants ai to take. be greedy. and he's glad he finally, finally is sinking into what sousuke is offering. and wants to offer]
You will.
[he offers, the smile evident in his tone]
You'll be a better friend doing all that, and letting yourself be bummed about things that matter. Easy as that.
[sousuke tries to step down, bury his face against ai's head and draw him closer in turn. he's not a touchy feely person. he doesn't think ai is much either. but there's something in it. something so achingly simple as the embrace or reassurance of another. it's not pity. and he trips over his own guilt lingering and holding this back to start. maybe ai's not the only one who needs a few lessons in the magic of friendship sometimes.
they'll learn together. they always have. he squeezes ai's hand]
Don't let idiots get you down when you're at the top of the world.
[It is exactly because Ai can perceive Rin so viscerally and closely that he's arrived at this exact juncture. Whether or not Rin can do the same for himself remains to be seen, and Ai and Sousuke both have it on seemingly good authority that if Rin's perception of the people around him is any good, he hasn't been good at doing something about it.
That was really the issue. The problem both Sousuke and Ai shared: trying. Trying to do something about it. Both separately learned that flames that burn too hot oftentimes don't respond well to being told their wick won't last long.
He can't so easily accept Sousuke's words, but he'll listen. He'll pocket them for later. It isn't that Ai is unwilling to process all that's happened, the circumstance just leads him to feeling as if it'd be a bad idea. Close quarters, practice with a clear goal... This wasn't home. This wasn't off-season. This was high focus and stakes, and Ai's just about set himself up for failure. So, he doesn't respond; he doesn't have it in him to lie, never has. But he does squeeze Sousuke's hand a bit tighter, leans into the grip Sousuke has on his head a little more.
What makes his shoulders hitch and elicits his flight response is what Sousuke says next. Because the thought that flits through his mind is too crystal clear for his comfort: I'm not so sure I want to climb that high anymore. If he said that out loud, what would Sousuke think? Ai already colours himself a coward and a loser, he doesn't need a second voice in the room to say as much too. It was all just too daunting to think about. Ai wasn't a quitter, knows logically he'll keep applying himself recklessly. But where he had been climbing with a team and ice anchors and studded shoes before, now he's bare. It's terrifying. It's lonely.
Would Ikuya notice if Ai forfeits the relay spot after all?
No good. I can't dwell like this. Ai reluctantly pulls himself off from Sousuke, sitting up. Appreciatively smooths over his wrist with his thumb. And then stands up, laying his sweater down neatly, and padding over to the room mirror to check how bad his face is. Thankfully, the post-cry puffiness has mostly gone down, as has the redness. If he can hold it together just a little longer, maybe his return to the room from hell can be completely benign and if either of them are awake or present, they can all mutually pretend nothing happened.
Ai takes a deeeep breath. Exhales a loooong sigh.]
Thank you. [This time when he sighs, it's in that resigned way of his.] I should head back, I think.
...
[The ambience kills him, but it had to start at some point. Ai pads to the front of the room to toe his shoes back on.]
I'll probably be at the pool more often than our call sheets. Sousuke-senpai, if you want to get extra laps in, I'd be happy for you to train with me.
[for a long time, he's content to just moon around that hallway. every now and again, teammates pass by. but nobody comes down--going back to explore the town after practice, practice some more or sleep off the jetlag and hangovers. really, everyone is giving them a little too much grace. but with freedom comes a certain dexterity.
or that's how it should be at least.
even with the freedom from something rin has crawled headfirst into, it doesn't feel dexterous. there's no laxness. it just feels taut, like something is about to snap and drag him down. the tears have long since dried up, and his head hurts. dehydration, lack of sleep, a hangover, it's all a bitch isn't it? even worse with some deep resonating guilt that threatens to eat you alive.
but eventually, things come back into focus. and despite the pain, there's a flicker of something. something deep down that rin tries to clamber for. because he's here for a reason. he's here to chase a dream. something he isn't quite sure is his dream anymore. but his dad's dream? that's something he can still claw towards. even if deep down, rin matsuoka isn't quite sure what his life looks like...
and so he pushes himself up off the ground, scrubs his face with the back of his arm. sucks in a deep breath. pushes aside the hurt, pushes aside the waves of guilt for everything he's caused. and the first thing? he goes right back to his their room, and like a magnet haru is at the door about to step out. they stiffen, and rin shoves at him and just says]
We need to talk.
[and for a while, they do. and for a while, it's fine. but then it turns tense like it always does. and that fresh well of hurt sears back into him. but it's fine. it always will be, somehow. and after everything is said and done, and haru excuses himself with a soft tone, rin sucks in a breath, and eagle spreads with his back on the bed the moment haruka lets the door click behind him and then. rin starts laughing.
it's so stupid isn't it? how all of this came to be? he's torn between the ugly laughing and stupid sobs of relief and frustration and bitterness coming out of him. how long ago could things have been fixed? been better? gone down a different road than the one he traversed down?
at some point during it all, rin's phone slipped out of his pocket onto the floor. and he lifts his head off the bed for a minute to glare daggers at it. before huffing and letting his head flop back against the mattress. he's tired. if he needed a drink any night, it would be tonight but. whatever. it doesn't even dawn on him to pick up his phone. it doesn't dawn on him to talk to anybody, because he thinks--
yeah. he might have done enough of that for the day. he thinks dimly, as he rolls over and pulls his blanket over his head]
There is, in fact, another vending machine outcove on Sousuke's floor, where Ai parks himself for about a half hour to gather his wits and play out scenarios in his head and, truthfully, wait out the clock. It had already been a bit late, but if he can wait even later, the chances of both Rin and Haruka already being asleep increases, and the chances of having to endure either of them acknowledging that Ai still exists decreases. It was the closest, most realistic substitute for counting down the days until he can leave, which feels like a spit in the face to all the effort he put in to even make it this far.
There is not a third wave of tears; there isn't gnashed teeth, balled fists. There may be, tomorrow, or even in the night, but right now Ai is too exhausted and still too heavily ruminating on all Sousuke had said to him to work up the energy to be that upset again. It's crisis mode; all pistons shut down completely except for the ones necessary to figure out a game plan.
And when he decides it's been long enough, Ai finally goes to the elevator. Rides it down to their floor. Walks quietly, in the desperate hope no one can sense him.
In front of the room door, Ai's heartrate lurches, the sudden BPM spike causing his gut to drop and his extremities to run cold. Long and calm and steady breaths turn to near-hyperventilation, the longer he stares down at the doorknob. Would it be permissible to just sleep here, in the hallway? Permissible to book a flight back ho--
Something deeper within him cuts it all short, suddenly wielding his keycard like a weapon and forcing the door to unlatch with a gentle beep. The part of him that, unfortunately, never quits, and always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. And he could still walk away, still lay down and pretend he could put it all off indefinitely, but the pragmatic part of him knows whoever is in the room would have heard the door unlatch, so.
Quietly, he pushes it in. Only enough to just barely shoulder in through the smallest possible gap he could create between the door and the wall. Holds onto the knob as he lets the door close again as quietly as possible behind him. Keeps his eyes to the floor; he can sense someone is in the room, but isn't gonna lift his head to make sure. All he knows is the lights are off and that is enough to give him the hope they're asleep.
As Ai silently walks to the edge of his bed - not bothering to change into pyjamas, as that might be critical time wasted making himself disappear under covers and critical noise gates created that might wake people up - he sees it. Plain on the floor just a couple feet away, in the aisle between Haruka and Rin's bed. Rin's phone. Which leads to his eyes naturally drifting up, and committing the cardinal sin of actually scouting out the room.
Haruka is gone. There is a lump in Rin's bed. And Rin's phone is on the floor. And the forensics suddenly matter so much less when there are no parts of him left to break.
A steady hand very quietly picks the phone up and places it on the bedside table closest to Rin's bed before Ai just as quietly absconds back to his.]
[he hears someone come back. and just assumes it's haru back from pouting (he'll deny it. it's fucking moping at its finest) and...waits? for something? not that rin has the slightest clue what, of course. but maybe he's banking on something more hopeful than whatever all of this has been. and it never comes. there's just a noise like something being put somewhere. probably just his phone or a glass of water or--
he tries to fall back asleep.
...only to be awaken by that ever nagging sound of the door unlocking via keycard on the other side. and that's when rin assumes it's ai. except the bathroom door closes, and the bathtub goes and. rin peers through the bleary edges of his vision, pushing himself up and looking around squinting. he's too exhausted to notice much, but...
his gaze lingers on the lump in ai's bed. ah. so that's who came back first. immediately, rin stiffens. why? he doesn't know! it's ai's room too! and he looks at the alarm clock on one of the bedside tables. that glaring red seeming more ominous in a tight environment. 2:57am jesus fuck, where has haru been?
...for a moment, rin wonders. but then he doesn't. and he instead glances back towards ai. and wonders. he didn't bother looking at the clock when ai came back. but that natural curiosity tugs at him. where did he go? after such a pitiful display by rin and agonizingly cruel words that ai all but had to drag out of him...he wonders if ai went to the pool. or went to sousuke. or maybe went out.
he flops back against the bed, burying his face in his pillow. he doesn't know how much time passes until he hears haru leave the bathroom, all he knows is he hears him go to bed in turn. and for a long while, rin can't fall back asleep. strung up with guilt and frustration and a helplessness, he tosses and turns over and over.
eventually, he finally settles. and slips into sleep around 4:30 or so. sleep deprived and bitchy is what awaits the world tomorrow. but is it really any different than hung over?
his alarm rips him from a dream he doesn't even remember and rin makes the most inhuman noise known to man as he fumbles for his phone. right. no time to waste. shit to do. wait. how did his phone get...he stares at it on the bedside table, and his gaze drifts over to--
whatever. he turns it off and flops back in bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. the pressure a blessing in disguise. and so rin tries to will himself up to change into his running clothes. he has to pick himself up, dust himself off. get over this hump that he is the inflicter of. he looks over and sees haru pulling the blanket over his head, and rin rolls his eyes, glancing towards ai...wondering if he...but if ai gets up, he'll get up. and so rin scoffs and goes to scrub the morning breath clean of his mouth]
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no subject
Date: 2026-01-17 04:51 pm (UTC)maybe the guilt is something that will always be there. it has been for a long time now. flaring and ebbing, yet always lingering. there's something oddly satisfying in the way the body seeks out further hurt when the ache is already present. rin can almost taste the way the hurt wells in ai's throat, lacing the undertone of his plea.
his own throat works around nothing. it feels like the words are knotted up in his throat, throbbing in a way they might never escape. but he can't. how much has he taken from ai, and how much has he paid back? shouldn't something like this be easy enough? his lips part, and something bordering a sob slips out instead. his own eyes stinging, that fresh sting welling in the corners and slowly dribbling over]
Do you hate me?
[he blurts out instead, his own weakness and hollowness spilling over the seams. he knows the answer, but he just wants...just like ai has to hear this one thing from rin. so too does rin need his own verification]
...for everything I put you through?
[everything hurts. a giant mess of tangled nerves and feelings that he can't quite vocalize. just another selfish request. rin thinks maybe it's a lie. if it wasn't for the ocean, then maybe--]
...
[he tries to choke it out. he's near doubled over, pulling his hand back to rip against the fabric over his chest. like that would do something to aid in all of this. it doesn't. if anything it makes it worse]
...
[he tries again. rin is well aware of his selfishness. how ai rarely has asked anything of him over the years. and even just a simple request such as that--rin fails at. so miserably. like everything else. it's not the hope that's gotten ai in trouble so much. it's rin. it's always been him. he knows because he stares in the mirror every morning, and that thought creeps into the back of his mind.
it's still you.]
...you never stood a chance.
[it tastes like the biggest lie he's ever spat out. there's no way to know if there was ever any truth behind it. rin's been all too content with putting ai at the back of mind for other
peoplethings over the years. there's no way it could have ever ended peacefully, even if an attempt had been made. maybe in another verse, and not one where rin is dimly aware that haru watched him run out after ai. and isn't that just what he's best at?running.]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-17 06:11 pm (UTC)Often, metamorphosis was the catalyst for positive change. A caterpillar liquefies into a beautiful butterfly. Coal pulverizes itself into diamonds. But this metamorphosis feels nowhere near as poetic, or kind. If only love could metamorphize into hate; maybe that would have made this all so much easier. If Ai even had the capacity in him to think a single inflammatory thing about Rin, such that he felt it at his core. Maybe then, letting go would be so much easier.
Ai only shakes his head, and presses the knuckle of his pinky to the corner of his eye. His answer an obvious one,]
I could never.
[I'm sorry. Would that he could metamorphize into hate. There will be no catharsis; there will be no place to point and blame and use as a means of getting it all out. There is no metamorphosis. That would imply a continued chapter of living. This is, instead, a death. His love does not cocoon and promise to become a fond memory; it will not compound and pulverize him into a man who has a more certain trust center. It breaks, and shatters, and instead leaves nothing but shame and mortification in its wake. Embarrassed for having ever hoped; ashamed for having inconvenience Rin in such a dreadful way; mortified for having ever let it leave his chest.
Finally, after trying so very hard, Rin gets it out. His tone doesn't sound so sure of himself, and Ai is certain it's only because Rin doesn't want to make himself feel too guilty. How cruel is it, then, that instead of stoking a new bout of waterworks, Rin instead has left Ai with the only genuine smile he's managed to crack since leaving the room?]
Thank you. [Now it's dead.] You've set me free. [I don't know where to go from here.] You'll be a little happier, too. [You won't have to worry about forgetting about me anymore.
Ai leans against the wall. Funny, how when the mind is so potently suppressed, the body picks up its slack; he can't identify when his knees felt like they were starting to give out. His head is turned fully away from Rin, into the corner of the vending area. One arm is held across his body. Minimizing; disappearing.]
Sorry for the trouble I've caused. I promise it won't happen again.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-19 09:20 pm (UTC)i could never.
--and it falls slack against his side. even more does it take still to fight the urge to scream at ai. to shake him by his collar, and beg to know why. why doesn't he hate him? why is rin matsuoka, the one person who does everything wrong between them, not worthy of that feeling? but he remembers a not so distant past, when rin acted similarly and. well.
that was the fallout that precedent all of this, wasn't it? and so, the thought doesn't flit across his mind again. and he just stands there, and suffers alongside ai. carrying the heavy knowledge of messing all of this up. it wasn't like a dive he could right or a turn he fucked up that he could hope to make ground for. the damage was done. and it that smile of sincerity just opens his own waterworks instead.
rin doesn't think he'll be happier. misery and guilt go hand in hand, and rin is famous for carrying things lost past their prime. it's a talent, really. something that when he can't sleep in the middle of the night he pours over, inflicting those deep cuts and scars on his own psyche. so he tries to focus on that little thing, something ai says that rin...doesn't exactly believe. you've set me free. and so he tries. he'll try. if only to make up for all his own damage he's caused.
ai appears to shrink into himself further than when rin found him, and hesitantly...rin takes a step back. instead of closing that gap with violence or comfort like he so desperately wants to. or maybe it's to keep the tears streaming down his face from ai's view as he fixates on the carpet]
...don't.
[rin does manage to choke out however, his voice near shattering as it finally works its way out of his throat]
Don't you dare blame yourself.
[and he knows asking might be fruitless because this is ai. and rin knows all too well how it feels to carry those things. but]
We both know it wasn't your fault.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-19 09:43 pm (UTC)If only Ai could have internalized that sooner. A night ago, a couple months ago, five years ago. Maybe then, all of this could be avoided.
It is that exact line of thinking why Rin's attempts at downplaying Ai's obvious involvement as far as he sees it nearly make him angry, and have Ai whipping his gaze back to Rin. Taking him in, in his guilt. Regret? Ai couldn't fathom why; a part of him is bothered that Rin doesn't just take the free road paved for him already. Sitting here among wreckage. All while saying something like that-- Ai conjures enough strength to lean off the wall, drop his arms to his sides.]
I've had years to make it go away, yet I never did. [Ai's eyebrows fold; he's angry.] You've thought the same. How much easier it'd all be if not for--
[... His voice dies. Because even now, even now, with nothing left to even speak of, he can't give it a name. He pulls in a breath and tries again,]
-- if I had let it go. Because then you never would have ran away.
[The fury in his eyes die out immediately, memories of that evening washing over him like tar. He really should have gotten the hint, back then. In that moment. To his credit, he did try to put the bird back in its cage, lock it tight. Like a fool he kept choosing hope where its light peeked from the dimmest corners. If he's honest with himself, the heartbreak he will get over. But feeling so stupid, so ashamed-- those are the reasons his eyes can't linger on Rin's for much longer, casting down to the floor.
Was it worth it? Knowing you're not being met in the middle.
Even if it hurt. Even if I only got that feeling momentarily. It was fucking worth it.
Maybe I'm a coward after all.
The inevitability of it all, the hindsight that he should have trusted his gut makes the back of his eyes sting all over again. Stupid. Useless. Stupid.
Ai, suddenly a hypocrite, sways past Rin and into the mouth of the hallway.]
I'm going to get my phone and wallet.
[And lick his wounds, somewhere. He isn't sure where, but knows for damn sure plans are off for the night. Them being off, in fact, being the reason this all spiraled off the precipice to begin with. Which is more pathetic, going out on his own to barhop and avoid reality until he has no choice but to come back to the hotel at four am, or begging Sousuke to let him stay the night? Usually when he had to get it all out, in his adult age, he'd just go to the pool...
A horrible thought crosses his mind. I want to go home. How empty it all feels, without the back of maroon hair in front of him when he looks ahead. Ai's got a lot of thinking to do.]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 06:34 pm (UTC)his back retreating and fleeing the scene of the crime.
it's something rin is firm in his belief in. that the fallout here was all his own. anybody with feelings for someone would fall into line similarly. rin took advantage of ai's kindness. he had an inkling, but really he should have known completely. so much for being a best friend, right? it's hard for him to keep ai's gaze however, and he finds his own stays pointed towards the carpet pile, his lips screwed up so they stay shut and there's no further backlash or retorts.
rin would never. the only thing he could point the blame towards was his own recklessness. how his own behavior tore these walls of ignorance down. another reminder of how ai did everything right. how everyone got it wrong, because rin bolted. first to sousuke, who he then ran from in turn. the emotional vulnerability buried in booze and with a friend who got a bit too mouthy with the barley and hops they chugged together. nothing beyond that happened, truly but...the implications were clear enough. the brands rin wore, that everyone assumed were ai weren't even--]
...if it makes you feel better to think that, sure.
[his voice sounds so hollow, the traces of chokes and sobs still lingering on the edge of his tone. rin knows it's not true. ai's not the one at fault here. it's all rin. but he could scream until he was blue in the face and he doesn't think ai would ever let himself live everything down. and rin doesn't know how to break through that mindset. he's lived in it. shallowly thinking everything and everyone around him was out to get him, that he was at blame for everything bad in the world.
he blinks the tears from his eyes, but before he can retort, ai is sweeping past him. and suddenly rin knows the feeling. seeing someone run. leave because everything is too overwhelming. and this time, he doesn't break his stance to follow. he did not that not twenty minutes ago, and look at the aches it's caused now. he bites his lip, and just nods. because what else can he do? what else can he say at this point?
...stupid.
he hates how stupid he is. and everything he's broken in his miserably short life. and so rin tucks himself behind the vending machine this time, taking in a shuddering inhale, slamming his fist back against the wall. once. twice]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 07:13 pm (UTC)But he wins his gamble. That Rin will let him go. It's a cruelty, to bank on such a thing in the first place. But Ai is also painfully aware there is nothing left to fix; just porcelain to be picked up and thrown away. There's no real reason to stop him, not this time.
Halfway down the hallway, it hits Ai like a truck that Haruka is still in the room, and probably had to watch Rin run out after Ai somewhat unceremoniously made it out in one piece. He'd done his best to keep a lid on it all, but. He knows more than either of them, Haruka is perceptive.
Haruka also won. Or, well-- there had been nothing to win. If Ai had been smarter, he'd have realized that years ago. All the same, Ai knows he will enter the hotel room to ocean blue eyes that will look upon him with nothing but raw, unmitigated pity, and Ai isn't ready for that.
At the front of the door, he reaches into his pocket--
...
Right. It's inside the room. Kick him while he's down. Or, maybe, this is just desserts for being the biggest, most useless woebegone this side of the Atlantic. Ai quietly presses his head against the wood of the door, and extends a modicum more self-control than Rin has back in the hallway to not just bang on the door. Not for entry, but out of frustration.
He doesn't bother wiping at his eyes; the redness around them is impossible to miss. Ai just keeps them glued down onto the floor as he, maybe too gingerly, knocks.]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 08:11 pm (UTC)when rin fled the room, something in haru sunk. it wasn't born of bitterness or sour or anything else. maybe pity wasn't the right word either. just a clawing, gaping hole left. because haru couldn't possibly be privy to the happenings between the two beyond his own assumptions, beyond the few things he's been able to piece together from what nitori has told him. and there's never been any bitterness held in its place. if there was some indication that rin would rather chase nitori down then, who was haru to stop him?
...even if he hasn't quite been able to get a read on rin's behavior since the night before.
...and no, haru was not jealous over the whole thing with rin swimming with nitori either.
the clock ticks on, and haru picks one of his books out of his half unpacked suitcase to pour over. it garners his attention for a short while, even if maybe he isn't as engrossed as he could be in it. the quiet is nice, he thinks to himself. it's not that he minds the company he's been placed with either. maybe it's a little more he aches for whatever it is they're trying to work out.
...but that soft rap at the door tugs him from his reading. he blinks at it for a moment, brows furrowed. he can't think of who it might be. rin and nitori both have roomkeys, so why--
right. his gaze settles on the forgotten objects strewn on nitori's bed and nightstand. haru places his book down against the sheets, making his way over to open the door. he doesn't shoot nitori down with looks of pity or anything else. merely just]
You forgot this.
[haru hands the items to him gingerly, as he steps aside, holding the door open for nitori if he wants to come in. he keeps his tone even as it so often is. his words aren't chastising or anything else. and he doesn't bother commenting on the wet sheen he sees, the red tinge in those blue eyes. he hates when people point out his emotions when they shine through. he would never do the same to someone else.
but if nitori wants to leave again, that's fine too. he doesn't ask about rin, he doesn't need to and doesn't want to right now]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 08:52 pm (UTC)... But Ai knows Haruka better than that. Has known him to have an attitude, maybe, but not to be malicious. Never with him. I suppose he never saw me enough of a threat to warrant such a thing. Weak at best; forgettable at worst. And he doubts his name has been on Rin's tongue when in Haruka's company, so whatever impression Haruka's gotten over the years has been through sheer examination. If Haruka thinks him weak and forgettable, it's his own fault.
No. Ai has to try hard and not be uncharitable just because he's in the pits. It's more than likely Haruka had a semblance of what was going on, and is just trying to be helpful. Forensics help sell this through to Ai's, yes, tenacious head, which is presently dead-set on trying to regain control in whatever possible way it can so he can self-flagellate in peace; Haruka stays to the side, as if to usher Ai in if he'd like. Ai recalls the trinket Haruka had gifted him the day before--
He's beyond caring about dignity, and tries to keep his sniff quiet as he takes hold of his belongings, placing them in his pockets. Can't meet Haruka's eyes, and is maybe too quick to turn back around, but doesn't do so before bowing politely.]
Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.
[Beyond fetching Ai his keycard and phone and wallet. Sorry for all the misunderstandings. Sorry I couldn't have done this sooner. Sorry, I'm sorry. He hesitates, because Ai is instinctively about to deliver a platitude, something about coming back later. But that'd be a half-truth; he doesn't know where he's going, and so doesn't know when or if he'll be back. He just cannot be here right now. So without turning around, less out of stubborn need and more because he wants to spare Haruka the trouble, Ai shuffles his way back down the hallway.
Takes the long way to the elevators, hopeful to avoid Rin.
Depresses the down button and... Waits. Where to go from here? Sousuke is likely occupied, if not out already. His uncle doesn't have the faith in him - Ai should have listened to him those couple of weeks ago, secondhand as the delivery might've been from Rin's mouth - and Ai can't handle what he is sure is an I told you so.
A mistake. Had Rin been reluctant to deliver it at the time because a part of him knew Mikhail was right? Ai presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. From now on, I'm trusting my gut.
The elevator opens, and Ai steps in.]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 09:35 pm (UTC)he could almost feel the welling of pain in ai from across the room hearing that. and it's exactly why he looked at rin the way he did. almost as if silently imploring him switch with me. because moments later, miyakawa was scolding him for sounding like he just choked on a rough dicking and then sousuke was paired off with the younger kirishima. who secretly was probably the perfect roommate in this whole, dramatic scenario. or maybe...
maybe he should have offered to switch with ai, he thinks to himself as he watches the trio slump towards the elevator, nanase seeming none the wiser. just how oblivious was that guy? rin wouldn't dare try anything, if he even wanted to, with sousuke in the room. him and nanase could shoot daggers at one another for no reason in particular, and it would be fine. awkward. but fine...
but the gesture died on his tongue. because there was one thing he didn't want to give, and ai would hardly appreciate in turn. pity. so he refrained, and went to his thankfully easy bunking situation. ikuya was quiet, clean, respectful and easy. he went out that night with everyone, but...he texts ai, but still doesn't offer anything besides a light gesture of company. nothing pressurizing or anything. because he would hate it too if he were in ai's shoes.
...but when he gets a picture of everyone out in a drunken tizzy, he frowns and texts ai.
you stayed in?
. . .
did you eat
and he would have offered to bring ai food, but the responses seemed tight and exasperated so he refrained once more. and spent a nice silent evening catching up on his sleep. is briefly awakened when kirishima comes back, clearly inebriated. which only intensifies his concern.
but still, he refrains. because pity is the last thing he's good at giving. and it's the last thing he thinks ai would appreciate in turn. tomorrow is similarly tight wound. sousuke sleeps through most of the morning, his jetlag still heavy on his mind. ikuya is dead to the world, and slips out silently when he eventually does forces himself into some land training.
he just isn't feeling the water today. and so he stays away, staring down at his phone every now and again. ai and rin and nanase are surely all practicing. unless something else happened he's not privy too. so the day goes about much like it normally does. he hits the spread they have for the athletes a few times, gets turned around more than once in his jog, and has to finally ask a (thankfully english speaking) local, and he's able to discern his right from left again and makes his way back to the hotel.
shower. eat. hit the gym at the hotel for a while (hey it's not athlete training center but it will do for his jetlagged brain). climbing back on the elevator and--]
...you look like shit.
[an astute observation as he sees ai climb on. his tone holds no pity or cruelty or anything else. just a usual flat tone. no i told you sos or anything else to be found in this steel box]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-23 10:18 pm (UTC)Because he sees Sousuke and immediately jumps to hearts exposed in a natatorium parking garage. Would Sousuke still be jealous now?
Ai titters, though there's no lift of his lips to match the sound. Just an arm that crosses his body to hold his side protectively, and a cheek turned because looking at Sousuke right now only makes the shame well up inside.]
Thanks. [Who is to say, why suddenly he's trying to iron out his countenance? Sousuke has always been the one he could bear his heart to, who understood him fundamentally. Maybe the idea of a mirror is what intimidates Ai into trying to pretend he isn't miserable,] Feel like it, too.
[The elevator door closes. Ai leans forward and just past Sousuke to hit the lobby button, after a moment of consideration. He leans against the back wall of the elevator, and brings sorry, tired, red eyes up to level his gaze at Sousuke. Instantly, any attempt at being strong washes away; his expression is exhausted more than it is painfully heartbroken. Ai chooses his words carefully, because the last thing he wants is pity... Or, for Sousuke to get angry on his behalf. The team needs to function as a team, despite this mess.
Ai blinks, once. Slowly.]
It's over.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-28 01:47 am (UTC)and ai doesn't quite rise to it. not that he was expecting him to, of course. he'll let ai bare his heart or scream at him or whatever he needs to do because/ it's over hits and sousuke raises a brow at him. there's so many implications behind those two simple words. but...things he's thought ai had surely moved past. true, rin went right back to sleeping on his floor. even after showing up at sousuke's in the rain and sousuke not even knowing he was back in town. it's not like he holds it against ai or anything for not telling him but--]
For something to be over, it had to be something to start with.
[...realistically, he's still not trying to be harsh. his tone isn't overbearing or anything else. it comes off as more of a gentle reminder. he feels no pangs towards ai for what he got to experience. that's not his style, at least not anymore. they've all grown up now...well. maybe most. rin seems stuck in his own ass sometimes, but what else is new?]
Do I want to know?
[he tries not to think into that slip of vulnerability he shared in that parking garage not so long ago. even if ai was the only person on earth he would let see that side. and he doesn't need to stiffen at the implications, because he knows rin and nanase are sharing that room too. he won't ask ai what horrors he's befallen or anything else.
even if there is that tug and pique of curiousity.
instead, sousuke just closes the gap, leaning against ai's side lightly, looking down into those tear stained eyes for only a moment. though there's no pity, just a fleeting hint of concern in turquoise. he might be pissed, sure. but adulthood and responsibility is a funny thing. it's been his dream to stand on this stage with rin. and now they're here]
...sorry.
[he tries to offer instead]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-28 02:23 am (UTC)I'm lovesick, Sousuke-senpai. Not delusional.
[Because the only thing that had changed from before was experience. Rin dangled it in front of him, however accidentally, like a carrot. Ai stupidly reached for it and thus began the countdown to armageddon. His feelings throughout it all had never once changed; he had lived with his unreciprocated, one-sided love for years. It strengthened him. But a couple mistakes in, and a bit too much hope, and it suddenly metamorphized into something unrecognizable. No longer wind in his sails, but an anchor.
Is it more or less pathetic if he says it that way? I was fine with it being that way when I didn't know what was on the other side. The thought of just how much he's choosing to let go overwhelms him again; Ai is not ready to confront reconfiguring his entire worldview. Not so quickly. He has to, but it hurts. It brings a fresh wave of tears kicking and screaming at the back of his eyes, but he stalwartly refuses to let them fall this time.
But, maybe, he just leans over on Sousuke a little bit.]
All of this. [Ai taps his chest, his heart.] Is over.
[Maybe not instantly, but with time. He'd said as much to Rin: you set me free. It was Ai's duty to actually follow through now. Finally armed with a knife, he can do all involved the favour of killing it, properly, once and for all.
... Sousuke's question lingers over his head. Just as he has conjured the courage to speak on it, the elevator dings its arrival on the lobby. Ai exhales; nowhere feels safe right now. Not outside, not inside, nowhere. Some of their teammates are mulling about, which is even worse. Ai leans off from Sousuke not to step outside but just to furiously jab at the close door button, and arbitrarily hits the topmost floor. The doors begin to close.
Up and down, in a limbo, unsure of when he'll get off; it feels like an apt analogy for the past couple of months.
Ai picks at the skin around his cuticle and stares down at the floor.]
... You can just tell, sometimes. [He takes a slow breath.] They were on top of each other when they came in last night. Tongues were too loose. That was enough.
...
[His shoulders hike up practically to his ears.]
Rin-senpai made a whole fuss about it. Me not being there last night. The morning was fine, I was even looking forward to tonight. But, I made a mistake. I asked Nanase-san if he was going to come. And when he hesitated, Rin-senpai hesitated.
[ba-dum. A pulsing ache in the echoes of such a there-and-gone moment. The straw that breaks it hardly identifiable from the rest, after all. Ai shrugs, and with it, his shoulders lower.]
Not even-- [The breath he sucks in is scornful.] Not even as this pathetic, useless-- But as a friend. Being left behind, I couldn't take it. And now we're here.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-05 10:59 pm (UTC)[spoken as evenly as he can muster, a shrugging tone that he's so famous for. the tears start rolling again, and there's a fresh well of sympathy despite trying to swallow it down. it's a disgusting feeling. to want someone. he knows it, he's lived it. but life goes on, life will go on, and trying to drive that message home and accept is sometimes the harshest reality of all.
he doesn't move to stop it, only leans over ai to press the button to his floor. it'll go up, back down. and at the quiet floor it will give a moment of reprieve, ai a chance to go or do what he wants. play up and down or go mope in solitude. sousuke will give him his space or coddle silently through it but...he doesn't stiffen when ai leans against him. just leans back into it a little, that pressure hopefully offering what his words sometimes lack in. continues to listen...
he squints at ai, quietly putting a hand up to move him from the self inflicted bad habits he's currently inflicting on his cuticle]
Think they were all trashed. Kirishima wasn't much better off when he got back.
[is it reassuring? probably not, but. sousuke's hope is to lessen the blow. he can't imagine rin or nanase indulging in something like that so cruelly right in front of ai, trashed or not. and he tries to give ai some logic, because rin might be an asshole but...]
You really think they're trying to get you out of the room? Rin might be stupid, but other than touchy...can't imagine he'd get up to that here.
[or at least that's how sousuke yamazaki logics it in the tangles of his head. he can't imagine any earth where rin matsuoka and haruka nanase fuck each other or anything else at a professional event. rin might be stupid enough to think about doing it but. especially not when times matter, not to mention reputations and international relations...]
Think you assumed. But that's just me.
[he shrugs. he realizes his hand hasn't left ai's since trying to stop the fidgeting and so he just offers it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. it's his place to be ai's voice of reason. and it's ai's place to ground sousuke in all these ridiculous affairs they've encountered over the years. sousuke pulls his hand back to stuff into his pocket, staring at the elevator door as they near the top floor]
Could probably figure a switch if it bothers you that much.
[he's lucky miyakawa actually tolerates him]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-05 11:50 pm (UTC)No. In fact, if Rin-senpai or Nanase-san wanted me out, it would have been a blessing in disguise. But, that isn't it. [Ai lowers his hand some and looks to Sousuke from his periphery.]
In or out of the room, Rin-senpai made his priority clear. If Nanase-san wasn't going, he wasn't either.
[And how much guilt would Rin have carried, then? Forcing himself out on a principle. Thinking about how much of Rin's clemency comes down to guilt and has for weeks, months leaves Ai pressing his palms to his eye sockets. He's never felt so stupid, so ran over in his entire god damn life.
Maybe he did assume. Maybe he took Rin's sudden hesitance in an entirely wrong direction. Ai isn't so sure he actually cares. Like a horrific and painful cyst, that lapse has led Ai to finally purge it, once and for all. Much like his place in Rin's life, it could have been anything else: an errant text, a glance he caught, a poorly worded sentence. A replaceable happenstance with a predetermined outcome.
Ai shakes his head, at the mention of a room switch. And he pulls a self-deprecating laugh, shoulders hiked up to his ears.]
Isn't that pathetic? I'm pathetic enough as it is. If I can't see this through to the end of camp, I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror. I want to leave this place with a shred of dignity left. I'm not going to do that if I run.
[Even if he's wholly sure at least two people would think otherwise. Not for any untoward reasons, either, but. Plainly put, Ai's the only one making things awkward. Third wheel since well before All Japan.
The elevator reaches the top floor, and the doors open. Ai does not step out.]
Besides, [His voice comes out a touch quieter, the doors closing again and the elevator beginning its descent to Sousuke's floor,] I know it'd make Rin-senpai feel even worse. I don't want to burden him anymore.
...
[Ai sucks in an attempt at a calming breath.]
... But if, maybe, for just a few hours. [I could come to your place. Ai doesn't care if Ikuya is there, too. He bows his torso,] Please.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-10 12:52 am (UTC)[sousuke points out. not a dig, not meant to kick ai while he's down... but an acute observation, meeting that sideways glance. sometimes, it's maddening how similar the two of them are. too stupid to see logic staring them straight in the fact]
Don't see how it's pathetic. I'd do the same.
[he's so so lucky with his situation. it's disgusting. and he levels ai with a look and a raised brow that speaks volumes. would you think the same of me? or does it only apply when it comes to you? and hopefully ai gets the message. because sousuke will absolutely vocalize it if it doesn't get through his thick skull.
sousuke sighs, pinching ai's wrist. it's nothing bruising, but a snap of attentiveness as the elevator makes its way back down towards his own floor. one he plans on stopping at, and dragging ai out tooth and nail at this point. the self deprecation is getting old. and sousuke's reminded of something he said in a not so distant future]
You should. He's a pain and deserves it.
[...his breath stops in his throat.
for a myriad of reasons. and he hates every single one. one reigns into something akin to pity. which he hates dishing out and he knows ai would hate being on the receiving end of even more. the second annoyance at ai running away from something that seems sad, but...he quickly snuffs that out. because it isn't fair to look down on him like that. the third or tenth being his mind travels somewhere else.
back to when they were busy burying something selfish into one another. or maybe it was an equal myriad of things. something they couldn't have, something they wanted to explore
together, something to blow off steam, something something something--]Yeah.
[the doors open, and sousuke's fingers loop around ai's wrist in a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. there's still teammates that might take anything beyond rin matsuoka being annoying and touchy as something else entirely. rin can get away with it. sousuke? ai? not so much.
his and kirishima's room is right near the elevator. sousuke doesn't think he's back yet. he casts a glance back to ai to see if he's still following]
Long as you need the place. It's yours.
[he opens the door for him, a scene similar to something many months ago that sousuke isn't even privy to]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-10 01:18 am (UTC)He senses it. Because he's so so used to being attuned to every single awry wavelength sent by Rin, every momentary dissociation, every new inch of distance. Can sense, for a moment, Sousuke is far away. All it takes is that small hitch of his breath to know as much. Why? Ai couldn't answer; the source of the misery in this elevator was one they both shared, so the reasons were endless. Ai wasn't stupid enough to ask about it. So profusely buried under his own mortification and heartbreak, Ai for a fleeting moment nearly forgets exactly with whom he'd co-miserated these feelings before, and how.
It's only as Sousuke squeezes his wrist, offers him reasurance, and starts to step off the elevator that Ai remembers in full.
Ai's turn to hold his breath in his chest as he steps off the elevator to follow behind Sousuke, bowing politely as he enters the room. It feels mean to say, but he's a bit relieved Ikuya isn't back yet; while he's friendly enough with his senior, Ai really wasn't amenable to explaining the circumstance for why his eyes are so red to anyone. Wouldn't have to Sousuke if not for the unique history and bond they share.
He toes off his shoes inside. Ambles somewhat slowly, absently to the middle of the room. With only two to occupy, it feels much less cramped than his room; Ai's envious. He looks around, tries to determine whose bed is whose.
... Seemingly stuck in pursuit of making himself smaller, Ai instead opts to sit in the armchair. Waits until Sousuke's come in and has shut the door to let his thoughts begin to roam again.
Roam they do, turning over and over in his head, trying to coalesce onto his tongue. It's difficult; this part of their shared woe they've never exactly broached before. Ai, in some ways, feared the answer. He brings one knee up to his chest, palms stacked on top of it, and his chin atop them.]
Did you ever move on?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-17 03:07 am (UTC)though sousuke rolls his eyes when ai gives that stiff little bow, nudging the back of ai's leg as he lets the door close behind them. his own bed is tucked away under the window. an amicable decision considering ikuya sleeps with a face mask to block out any sliver of light through those blackout curtains, and closer to the bathroom which...worked out especially well after how hammered he got last night. sousuke seems satisfied with ai making himself comfortable though, as he lazily kicks off his own shoes and stalks off towards his bed, letting himself flop onto it with a sigh.
...though ai's seemingly out of nowhere question (it's not) makes him pause momentarily. his expression doesn't dwindle, but instead shifts up towards the ceiling. he scoots back on his bed a little, letting his back press against the wall underneath the windowsill. to any normal observer, his gaze might seem normal, but. certainly to anyone really looking there's something flitting across his expression]
Depends on what you mean.
[sousuke shrugs. there's no other way to answer it. no he never stopped thinking about rin. yes he stopped thinking about him like That. tried to let go of his swelling jealousy over that other shade of blue, that fire that's been lit elsewhere.
despite the roaring temptations throughout the years to close that gap. to bury in some desire. but he's glad he never did--glad he's not in ai's shoes right now. though that circumstance is something else entirely. something that could only be described as some cruelty of the universe]
...sort of.
[he rubs the back of his neck with a sigh, letting his gaze settle back towards ai]
Can't say I would've been able to keep it in if I were in your shoes, though.
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Date: 2026-02-17 03:25 am (UTC)Which leaves him-- uncertain, and maybe disappointed. Of course he'd been hoping for a yep, I'm cured of red or something. I learned to love again or It was easy to leave it all behind. Ai so badly yearned for that kind of reassurance and model placed in front of him, because--]
I don't know how to do it.
[Without him in the center of it all. Ai wishes he could have just called it an unrelenting childhood friendship; unfortunately, he was lost from the onset. Let friendship become synonymous with feelings that were anything but, for so many years. Untangling the two seemed, right now, like an impossible task. Moving on synonymous with leaving behind the myriad parts of his life currently wrapped up in Rin. So many friendships. Competitive swimming. His god damn apartment!
He leans forward to press the heels of his palms into the sockets of his eyes. He isn't crying; more, it's as if he's trying to push away the headache of it all. Presses both of his hands flat to drag them up and over his forehead, through his hair, which now lays unkempt in the wake. His hands once again link near his ankle, and Ai turns his cheek on top of his knee, looking at the hotel wall plaster.
One big breath in. One long sigh out.]
It'd be easier if I didn't,
[They both know. Ai sucks air back into his lungs and continues his thought,]
-- Because. Before that moment in time, I never really cared to imagine or want for something different. That kind of hope, it's dangerous. Before then, maybe it'd be simpler, like you.
...
[A guilt weighs on him. Ruining a good thing. Tanking his most cherished friendship. Likely ruining Rin's most trusted confidant. Ai's knuckles turn white, how tightly they're gripping his skin.]
My times tomorrow are going to be horrible.
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Date: 2026-02-20 03:30 am (UTC)and he wishes he could give ai some sort of manual, step by step on how exactly to do that. it's even harder still, all being on a team together...vying for relay spots, their own interpersonal dramas over the last few months-- though selfishly, there's a small tug to close the distance himself to offer some reassurance. the little tryst they used to twist themselves into over locker room benches and dorm rooms when their dorm-mates were away pursuing their own lives and aspirations]
Nobody said life was simple.
[he ventured plainly, standing up, and crossing the distance. sousuke knows ai doesn't like pity. like people are looking down at him. and so sousuke doesn't offer it. just presses his hand on his shoulder, not sparing him a glance but fixing his gaze out the window. like some far off memory was flooding past the window pane]
God knows mine isn't.
[he laughs very softly, a barely there thing. before he squeezes ai's shoulder and lets go, pushing his hand back into his pocket. he shrugs at ai dwelling over his times of all things. and while yes, the road to athens felt like the whole world...there would be others. they hadn't peaked yet. there was still another shot. and with ai's stamina? hell, there might be many, many more to come. coupled with that bold determination that leaked from a certain redhead they both knew...]
They're just times. They'll be better another day.
[he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck]
...least you've got times recorded today. Gonna get my ass chewed tomorrow...
[maybe. there were plenty of hungover slobs who probably didn't haul themselves down to the pool either. and miyakawa would surely clip them with her clipboard, chastise them and make them freestyle lap until they dropped.
such was the life of a professional athlete.
sousuke leaned against the armchair, crossing his arms, as he tilts his gaze up towards the ceiling. it's quiet for a minute. before he decidedly sighs, and finally looks down at ai]
Just keep being you.
[he picks at ai's shirt, like he was smoothing out a wrinkle before pulling his hand back again, gesturing to the bed closest to the window]
Bed's there if you need it. Doubt Kirishima would care if you used his either though.
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Date: 2026-02-20 03:50 am (UTC)It'd be a cover for the truly worrying thoughts swirling only barely deeper. About if it was worth it anymore. What finding or reshaping motivation will look like. About how much easier it'd be to quit, leave it all behind, start fresh somewhere where his entire life isn't caught up in the undertow of one bad decision. Unfortunately for him, Ai isn't capable of quitting. His self-hatred rarely turns inward to scorn himself for his better qualities, but on this occasion, he finds himself thinking over and over and over and over and over how much easier it'd all be if he was just a slightly worse version of himself.
One he can tackle, though, is feeling like a nuisance. Burdening Sousuke with his morose company, and leveling him with such heavy questions, it was unfair. And because Ai is perceptive, he can tell Sousuke is trying to fight the urge not to coo you poor thing or something similarly condescending and pitiful. Not because Ai is worthy of pity, but because the situation is pitiful! He's appreciative, however, of Sousuke's attempts to bridge that gap. Between Ai's guilt, and Sousuke's outlook. Grateful for the hand on his shoulder and the weight leaning against the chair, present without asking to be.
Right. That elicits a thought, as sour as the rest.]
I shouldn't stay for too long. Then that'd make two of us who looked to you like a scapegoat, and I'm not sure I could live with that either.
[Guilt, guilt, guilt. Ai leans over, unabashedly and wholly leaning his bodyweight on the silhouette of Sousuke's arm and side. Turns his head outward to bury it against him, even. Of all things, it elicits an anxiety response first. Asking, seeking, begging, all the things every single nerve in his body is programmed not to do. But after a second, his shoulders relax; his breathing slows. And he does the unthinkable, and allows himself the indulgence of a friend's reassurances. Without the veneer of a tryst, and without the motivation of outrunning something. Just raw, human-to-human.]
The next time we talk, I want it to be normal. I want to ask how your day was, and I want you to tell me a story about how you got back to the hotel late because you got turned around. I want to tell you about the food I ate, and I want us to laugh at our broken French. I don't want to think about Rin-senpai, or Nanase-san, or swimming.
[He hangs his arm just barely over the armrest; it's enough to collect Sousuke's hand into his.]
Thank you for being my friend. I'll try to be a better one soon, I promise.
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Date: 2026-02-22 03:51 am (UTC)and like sousuke can read ai, he picks up on it. the moment it slips. i shouldn't stay for too long. he raises a brow, eyes hardening a bit. even if the sourness was completely withheld from ai's tone, sousuke would know it was there. even if ai tittered that everything was fine, he was over it and times were the only thing that mattered, sousuke would know it was false.
there's something almost glum. a less than beautiful thing in the art of knowing somebody so intimately. sousuke wonders sometimes...in all the time they spent together, can ai perceive rin in the same fashion?
...can rin?]
I'm nobody's scapegoat.
[and the tone matches that. he'll perceive himself as he wishes to. and it's almost an insult that ai spirals into such a point that he unknowingly throws an insult like that out there. sousuke is his own. he won't let himself be used. he wants to be there for the people around him, the people he loves and cares about. even when it's finding nanase half dead on the side of the road...he'll be there.
and he takes the pressure, and returns it in kind. tightens his hold on the back of ai's head, keeping him there. maybe there's something selfish in it. he wants ai to take. be greedy. and he's glad he finally, finally is sinking into what sousuke is offering. and wants to offer]
You will.
[he offers, the smile evident in his tone]
You'll be a better friend doing all that, and letting yourself be bummed about things that matter. Easy as that.
[sousuke tries to step down, bury his face against ai's head and draw him closer in turn. he's not a touchy feely person. he doesn't think ai is much either. but there's something in it. something so achingly simple as the embrace or reassurance of another. it's not pity. and he trips over his own guilt lingering and holding this back to start. maybe ai's not the only one who needs a few lessons in the magic of friendship sometimes.
they'll learn together. they always have. he squeezes ai's hand]
Don't let idiots get you down when you're at the top of the world.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-22 04:09 am (UTC)That was really the issue. The problem both Sousuke and Ai shared: trying. Trying to do something about it. Both separately learned that flames that burn too hot oftentimes don't respond well to being told their wick won't last long.
He can't so easily accept Sousuke's words, but he'll listen. He'll pocket them for later. It isn't that Ai is unwilling to process all that's happened, the circumstance just leads him to feeling as if it'd be a bad idea. Close quarters, practice with a clear goal... This wasn't home. This wasn't off-season. This was high focus and stakes, and Ai's just about set himself up for failure. So, he doesn't respond; he doesn't have it in him to lie, never has. But he does squeeze Sousuke's hand a bit tighter, leans into the grip Sousuke has on his head a little more.
What makes his shoulders hitch and elicits his flight response is what Sousuke says next. Because the thought that flits through his mind is too crystal clear for his comfort: I'm not so sure I want to climb that high anymore. If he said that out loud, what would Sousuke think? Ai already colours himself a coward and a loser, he doesn't need a second voice in the room to say as much too. It was all just too daunting to think about. Ai wasn't a quitter, knows logically he'll keep applying himself recklessly. But where he had been climbing with a team and ice anchors and studded shoes before, now he's bare. It's terrifying. It's lonely.
Would Ikuya notice if Ai forfeits the relay spot after all?
No good. I can't dwell like this. Ai reluctantly pulls himself off from Sousuke, sitting up. Appreciatively smooths over his wrist with his thumb. And then stands up, laying his sweater down neatly, and padding over to the room mirror to check how bad his face is. Thankfully, the post-cry puffiness has mostly gone down, as has the redness. If he can hold it together just a little longer, maybe his return to the room from hell can be completely benign and if either of them are awake or present, they can all mutually pretend nothing happened.
Ai takes a deeeep breath. Exhales a loooong sigh.]
Thank you. [This time when he sighs, it's in that resigned way of his.] I should head back, I think.
...
[The ambience kills him, but it had to start at some point. Ai pads to the front of the room to toe his shoes back on.]
I'll probably be at the pool more often than our call sheets. Sousuke-senpai, if you want to get extra laps in, I'd be happy for you to train with me.
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Date: 2026-02-22 05:48 pm (UTC)or that's how it should be at least.
even with the freedom from something rin has crawled headfirst into, it doesn't feel dexterous. there's no laxness. it just feels taut, like something is about to snap and drag him down. the tears have long since dried up, and his head hurts. dehydration, lack of sleep, a hangover, it's all a bitch isn't it? even worse with some deep resonating guilt that threatens to eat you alive.
but eventually, things come back into focus. and despite the pain, there's a flicker of something. something deep down that rin tries to clamber for. because he's here for a reason. he's here to chase a dream. something he isn't quite sure is his dream anymore. but his dad's dream? that's something he can still claw towards. even if deep down, rin matsuoka isn't quite sure what his life looks like...
and so he pushes himself up off the ground, scrubs his face with the back of his arm. sucks in a deep breath. pushes aside the hurt, pushes aside the waves of guilt for everything he's caused. and the first thing? he goes right back to
histheir room, and like a magnet haru is at the door about to step out. they stiffen, and rin shoves at him and just says]We need to talk.
[and for a while, they do. and for a while, it's fine. but then it turns tense like it always does. and that fresh well of hurt sears back into him. but it's fine. it always will be, somehow. and after everything is said and done, and haru excuses himself with a soft tone, rin sucks in a breath, and eagle spreads with his back on the bed the moment haruka lets the door click behind him and then. rin starts laughing.
it's so stupid isn't it? how all of this came to be? he's torn between the ugly laughing and stupid sobs of relief and frustration and bitterness coming out of him. how long ago could things have been fixed? been better? gone down a different road than the one he traversed down?
at some point during it all, rin's phone slipped out of his pocket onto the floor. and he lifts his head off the bed for a minute to glare daggers at it. before huffing and letting his head flop back against the mattress. he's tired. if he needed a drink any night, it would be tonight but. whatever. it doesn't even dawn on him to pick up his phone. it doesn't dawn on him to talk to anybody, because he thinks--
yeah. he might have done enough of that for the day. he thinks dimly, as he rolls over and pulls his blanket over his head]
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Date: 2026-02-22 06:13 pm (UTC)There is, in fact, another vending machine outcove on Sousuke's floor, where Ai parks himself for about a half hour to gather his wits and play out scenarios in his head and, truthfully, wait out the clock. It had already been a bit late, but if he can wait even later, the chances of both Rin and Haruka already being asleep increases, and the chances of having to endure either of them acknowledging that Ai still exists decreases. It was the closest, most realistic substitute for counting down the days until he can leave, which feels like a spit in the face to all the effort he put in to even make it this far.
There is not a third wave of tears; there isn't gnashed teeth, balled fists. There may be, tomorrow, or even in the night, but right now Ai is too exhausted and still too heavily ruminating on all Sousuke had said to him to work up the energy to be that upset again. It's crisis mode; all pistons shut down completely except for the ones necessary to figure out a game plan.
And when he decides it's been long enough, Ai finally goes to the elevator. Rides it down to their floor. Walks quietly, in the desperate hope no one can sense him.
In front of the room door, Ai's heartrate lurches, the sudden BPM spike causing his gut to drop and his extremities to run cold. Long and calm and steady breaths turn to near-hyperventilation, the longer he stares down at the doorknob. Would it be permissible to just sleep here, in the hallway? Permissible to book a flight back ho--
Something deeper within him cuts it all short, suddenly wielding his keycard like a weapon and forcing the door to unlatch with a gentle beep. The part of him that, unfortunately, never quits, and always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. And he could still walk away, still lay down and pretend he could put it all off indefinitely, but the pragmatic part of him knows whoever is in the room would have heard the door unlatch, so.
Quietly, he pushes it in. Only enough to just barely shoulder in through the smallest possible gap he could create between the door and the wall. Holds onto the knob as he lets the door close again as quietly as possible behind him. Keeps his eyes to the floor; he can sense someone is in the room, but isn't gonna lift his head to make sure. All he knows is the lights are off and that is enough to give him the hope they're asleep.
As Ai silently walks to the edge of his bed - not bothering to change into pyjamas, as that might be critical time wasted making himself disappear under covers and critical noise gates created that might wake people up - he sees it. Plain on the floor just a couple feet away, in the aisle between Haruka and Rin's bed. Rin's phone. Which leads to his eyes naturally drifting up, and committing the cardinal sin of actually scouting out the room.
Haruka is gone. There is a lump in Rin's bed. And Rin's phone is on the floor. And the forensics suddenly matter so much less when there are no parts of him left to break.
A steady hand very quietly picks the phone up and places it on the bedside table closest to Rin's bed before Ai just as quietly absconds back to his.]
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Date: 2026-02-23 08:26 pm (UTC)he tries to fall back asleep.
...only to be awaken by that ever nagging sound of the door unlocking via keycard on the other side. and that's when rin assumes it's ai. except the bathroom door closes, and the bathtub goes and. rin peers through the bleary edges of his vision, pushing himself up and looking around squinting. he's too exhausted to notice much, but...
his gaze lingers on the lump in ai's bed. ah. so that's who came back first. immediately, rin stiffens. why? he doesn't know! it's ai's room too! and he looks at the alarm clock on one of the bedside tables. that glaring red seeming more ominous in a tight environment. 2:57am jesus fuck, where has haru been?
...for a moment, rin wonders. but then he doesn't. and he instead glances back towards ai. and wonders. he didn't bother looking at the clock when ai came back. but that natural curiosity tugs at him. where did he go? after such a pitiful display by rin and agonizingly cruel words that ai all but had to drag out of him...he wonders if ai went to the pool. or went to sousuke. or maybe went out.
he flops back against the bed, burying his face in his pillow. he doesn't know how much time passes until he hears haru leave the bathroom, all he knows is he hears him go to bed in turn. and for a long while, rin can't fall back asleep. strung up with guilt and frustration and a helplessness, he tosses and turns over and over.
eventually, he finally settles. and slips into sleep around 4:30 or so. sleep deprived and bitchy is what awaits the world tomorrow. but is it really any different than hung over?
his alarm rips him from a dream he doesn't even remember and rin makes the most inhuman noise known to man as he fumbles for his phone. right. no time to waste. shit to do. wait. how did his phone get...he stares at it on the bedside table, and his gaze drifts over to--
whatever. he turns it off and flops back in bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. the pressure a blessing in disguise. and so rin tries to will himself up to change into his running clothes. he has to pick himself up, dust himself off. get over this hump that he is the inflicter of. he looks over and sees haru pulling the blanket over his head, and rin rolls his eyes, glancing towards ai...wondering if he...but if ai gets up, he'll get up. and so rin scoffs and goes to scrub the morning breath clean of his mouth]
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