What happens when too-close quarters and their temporary necessity disappear? What happens when Rin inevitably leaves for another foreign country? What happens when Ai globetrots somewhere else to rewrite his hurt? What happens when training is behind them and the dust is outside the closed door and it is nothing but them and their feelings and a world of choice ahead of them?
Ai realizes the answer hasn't ever really changed, its goalpost just moved. There was never a reality where the fragments of peace he's known over the past few months, this small fragment of peace now where Rin is looking him in the eye and questioning him sincerely, could last for long. Fragments aren't enough. There are people and dreams Rin looks toward to supply more than fragments, and Ai--
Has to figure that out, he guesses. After is terrifying. After is rewriting the entirety of his reality from the ground-up. It is questioning what dream he even has left, and next to whom he's standing to chase it. If chasing it at all merits any value anymore.
Rin's response seemed as honest as it could be, and so Ai owes him the same in turn. And what with the way Rin's nearly glowering into him, it's pretty impossible to miss the rueful bend of his eyebrows, and the almost resigned, yet fearful shrug of his shoulders.]
I don't know.
[But he knows that isn't a helpful answer. He's also cognizant not to ladle Rin with any more guilt. So he just-- holds that gaze. Lets Rin for a moment peer into those uncertain, unfocused, confused blue eyes. And his lips, for a split second, uptick with a genuine want for reassurance, before flatlining again.]
Well, I will be eventually. I just don't know what that looks like, yet.
[Ai turns, facing his bed. But not before gesturing some to the water bottle and alleviating Rin's first remark,]
That much is normal,
[-- before somewhat tepidly crawling back under his covers.]
[rin's not thinking of his after, his future. he's thinking of the ones of all those around him. the ones he's trashed and the ones he hasn't yet. his own future is so far from his mind, it's not even a blip on his radar. all the possibilities boil down to the agonizing unease amongst their group.
he takes a drink of the water bottle, finally breaking his gaze from ai's. he can hear that doubt, can almost taste it in how raw it permeates the air. he keeps ai's gaze steady through the corners of his own, suspicion and unease welling in his eyes. right. that's a stark reality to face isn't it?
...what does that look like? what future will happen after this awkward stint in a different country? rin's no fool. there will be friendlies in other countries, training camps back home and abroad. competition season soon underway and...all of a sudden, ai's apartment looks like some distant memory. a stranger he can barely discern through the crowd. it's barley been any time at all since they left, and yet]
Ai...
[but he pauses, sighing as he watches ai crawl back under his covers. and finally he jerks his gaze towards the side. he takes another pointed swig of the water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in the process. no, he wants to stop being selfish. he won't keep him up any longer. it's obvious ai was already just looking to crawl into bed when he got here...
and so, rin lays back down and stares blankly at the ceiling. not quite able to ignore the sounds that sound so far away of ai shifting every now and again under the covers. willing himself to disassociate back to sleep]
[He fights the urge to say I'm sorry. Fights the urge to start one of their spirals. Because the way Rin calls his name is so profoundly agonizing that Ai's very first instinct is to try and assuage. It helps that he still truly believes at the center of all these missteps is himself. If only he'd been a better friend, better able to support Rin. A stronger man, able to convincingly say no to his desire. A better athlete, seeded into a different team. A better person, knowing the dangers of falling for your friend. So what could Rin possibly say that Ai doesn't have a handmade rebuttle for?
It isn't that he ignores him, except-- for once, it kind of is. Because sat right next to the apprehension of guilt is the tiredness from all the fighting. Last night basically wrecked him, and he still hasn't recovered from the emotional lows of it-- let alone the days, weeks, months prior of. Everything.
... Yet he shifts. And tosses, and turns. In the same predicament as last night, painfully aware he's too wound up and anxious to let himself fade into slumber. And that one syllable of Rin's hand-hewn nickname for him hangs pitifully at the forefront of his consciousness. It is barely even five minutes before he tentatively rolls back over, facing Rin's bed.
...
Seemingly has to work up the wherewithal, but... After a few beats of silence, a quiet voice comes.]
We're still friends. [Right? The unasked question will remain unbid in his mind only.] And I'm still me. So... If it's you, nothing's really different. Senpai, you don't have to worry.
[He can only guess why Rin had beckoned him, and so his reassurances are almost trite. But he himself needs to hear them, too. Rin isn't the team. Rin never was or is his lover. All of the don't know what it looks like yets are solidly just the panes through which Ai views the world, not its contents.]
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no subject
Date: 2026-03-15 01:16 am (UTC)What happens when too-close quarters and their temporary necessity disappear? What happens when Rin inevitably leaves for another foreign country? What happens when Ai globetrots somewhere else to rewrite his hurt? What happens when training is behind them and the dust is outside the closed door and it is nothing but them and their feelings and a world of choice ahead of them?
Ai realizes the answer hasn't ever really changed, its goalpost just moved. There was never a reality where the fragments of peace he's known over the past few months, this small fragment of peace now where Rin is looking him in the eye and questioning him sincerely, could last for long. Fragments aren't enough. There are people and dreams Rin looks toward to supply more than fragments, and Ai--
Has to figure that out, he guesses. After is terrifying. After is rewriting the entirety of his reality from the ground-up. It is questioning what dream he even has left, and next to whom he's standing to chase it. If chasing it at all merits any value anymore.
Rin's response seemed as honest as it could be, and so Ai owes him the same in turn. And what with the way Rin's nearly glowering into him, it's pretty impossible to miss the rueful bend of his eyebrows, and the almost resigned, yet fearful shrug of his shoulders.]
I don't know.
[But he knows that isn't a helpful answer. He's also cognizant not to ladle Rin with any more guilt. So he just-- holds that gaze. Lets Rin for a moment peer into those uncertain, unfocused, confused blue eyes. And his lips, for a split second, uptick with a genuine want for reassurance, before flatlining again.]
Well, I will be eventually. I just don't know what that looks like, yet.
[Ai turns, facing his bed. But not before gesturing some to the water bottle and alleviating Rin's first remark,]
That much is normal,
[-- before somewhat tepidly crawling back under his covers.]
no subject
Date: 2026-03-15 01:36 am (UTC)yet. his own future is so far from his mind, it's not even a blip on his radar. all the possibilities boil down to the agonizing unease amongst their group.he takes a drink of the water bottle, finally breaking his gaze from ai's. he can hear that doubt, can almost taste it in how raw it permeates the air. he keeps ai's gaze steady through the corners of his own, suspicion and unease welling in his eyes. right. that's a stark reality to face isn't it?
...what does that look like? what future will happen after this awkward stint in a different country? rin's no fool. there will be friendlies in other countries, training camps back home and abroad. competition season soon underway and...all of a sudden, ai's apartment looks like some distant memory. a stranger he can barely discern through the crowd. it's barley been any time at all since they left, and yet]
Ai...
[but he pauses, sighing as he watches ai crawl back under his covers. and finally he jerks his gaze towards the side. he takes another pointed swig of the water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in the process. no, he wants to stop being selfish. he won't keep him up any longer. it's obvious ai was already just looking to crawl into bed when he got here...
and so, rin lays back down and stares blankly at the ceiling. not quite able to ignore the sounds that sound so far away of ai shifting every now and again under the covers. willing himself to disassociate back to sleep]
no subject
Date: 2026-03-15 01:50 am (UTC)It isn't that he ignores him, except-- for once, it kind of is. Because sat right next to the apprehension of guilt is the tiredness from all the fighting. Last night basically wrecked him, and he still hasn't recovered from the emotional lows of it-- let alone the days, weeks, months prior of. Everything.
... Yet he shifts. And tosses, and turns. In the same predicament as last night, painfully aware he's too wound up and anxious to let himself fade into slumber. And that one syllable of Rin's hand-hewn nickname for him hangs pitifully at the forefront of his consciousness. It is barely even five minutes before he tentatively rolls back over, facing Rin's bed.
...
Seemingly has to work up the wherewithal, but... After a few beats of silence, a quiet voice comes.]
We're still friends. [Right? The unasked question will remain unbid in his mind only.] And I'm still me. So... If it's you, nothing's really different. Senpai, you don't have to worry.
[He can only guess why Rin had beckoned him, and so his reassurances are almost trite. But he himself needs to hear them, too. Rin isn't the team. Rin never was or is his lover. All of the don't know what it looks like yets are solidly just the panes through which Ai views the world, not its contents.]