for @buttterfly - post-tfln

[taeru]

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[taeru]

He wasn't expecting that.

When last had he given Rin a reason to even need to be introspective? First year, he thinks. Rin had barked and Ai barked back and it was one of only a handful of times he had seen Rin so thoroughly disarmed. This time it's different. This time it's because Ai is a walking glass case, transparent, and he can't even do himself the favour of trying to keep a lid on it anymore, let alone doing it for Rin.

He supposes, in hindsight, this is perhaps the worst part of it all being in the open. When he had everything to lose, he had more motivation to keep it all in check. Tightly filtered expressions, carefully chosen words. A perfect lie - and a miracle, at that, for someone who was so fundamentally bad at being anything but forthright. But now the guise is over, and with it so is Ai's tightly held control. The consequence of that is letting things bleed through for all to see - Rin included.

Shame crawls up his spine and sits heavily on the back of his tongue. He'd take being rejected or called by someone else's name in bed a thousand times over if it meant he never had to feel this pathetic and vulnerable again.

"No, you did what you had to," he answers honestly, at first staring down at the floor but then looking at Rin with crinkled eyes and a simper, bittersweet. "It's me. I feel bad I put you in that position." But you're still not being honest. His lips form around the start of a syllable that seems intent to keep itself lodged in the back of his throat.

"And I feel bad for feeling jealous." As if Rin needs more guilt. Ai has half a wish that Rin cares so little he doesn't have it in him to even feel guilty. "But that's on me."

[buttterfly]

Something sobering flutters in him.

There's certain things now, being out in the open, that change things. It's not something that Rin is creeped out by or thinks is wrong. It's not something to side step or tip toe, maybe just something to be considerate of. Which Rin is... notoriously bad at sometimes. Guilt lodges itself in his throat, and he stares at the wall.

"Ai," He starts, unsure of how to spin this. Because there's really no way to deflect or room to grow aggressive over it. It's not fair. He swallows, his face feels hot with shame.

"I'm sorry." Is there anything else he can really say to that? Except he hurriedly tacks on "It's not your fault. I could have just gone back home, or stuck it out at Sousuke's." Except Rin knows he couldn't have. Not with that newfound knowledge that's still eating at him. It feels a bit like he can't have friends that don't want to get into his pants. One is fair. Two is coincidence. Three is awkward. Four is downright cruel. His fingers tighten around his wrist, that grounding pressure.

"You can...feel what you want you know." Not like Ai needs Rin's permission, but he wants to toss it out there anyways. "It's not going to make me upset. Mad, sad, don't believe me--whatever."

[taeru]

Oh, how he hates that look Rin's just given him.

"But it just did, senpai."

It's a new feeling. Molten wax poured over his skin and ripped back up. Turns out, Ai was still only human, and inferred rejection made manifest still hurts. And worse than that is the new knowledge that he's put Rin on the backfoot. Rin, who even at his lowest had moments of consideration. Who always, always looked after his friends, who carried such a strong well of emotion inside of him-- Ai was an idiot for thinking for even a second Rin would feel anything but guilty.

Nothing good happens when it comes from me. It hurts him; it hurts Rin. Right there in the mouth of his apartment, phone clutched white-knuckled in his hands, Ai resolves to close the cage and lock it again. This isn't tenable; it isn't fair. If he knew the thoughts currently cycling through Rin's head, Ai may have even ejected himself out of his own apartment and handed Rin the key.

It's like a switch is flipped, and that familiar reassuring yet somewhat hollow smile plasters itself just barely to the corners of his lips. It's enough. No more.

"And anyway, it's not important. If you sit there sopping wet for a minute longer, you'll catch a cold."

[buttterfly]

It somehow feels like being back at square one all of a sudden.

Something in the room shifts. And with it, something in Rin sinks. Enough to make him shift a little further against the wall, like it might swallow him whole. It's one thing to try to be considerate after a monumental fuckup. It's another thing entirely to actually stick the landing when you've shattered things so irreparably.

That hollow look. The empty smile, that feels like it's been pressed on with superglue. Rin's gaze turns miserable, but he does what he can to try to match it with a soft smile of his own; fake as it may be.

"Ah. Yeah."

He tries plastering on that warm grin, but it feels as fake as everything else right now. He shrugs his sopping jacket off, hanging it up and retreats to his bag for a much needed change of clothes. Rin is not a diva by any means [lol ok] but having worn the same clothes for days is disgusting. And he really shouldn't say no to a shower.

"Would serve me right." He laughs softly, pulling out a t shirt, and some sleep pants with a pair of boxers hastily stuffed between them--like underwear is something to be ashamed of all of a sudden--before he pauses. The apologies feel emptier and emptier, the more he has to reiterate them.

"For what it's worth... you're allowed to take up as much space as you give to others."

[taeru]

He's stuck enough in his own head that he forgets his rudiments. Had perhaps spent too much time the past four days playing over he and Rin's argument in his head, on repeat like a broken disc. Had forgotten that Rin is perceptive, scented to blood the moment it blooms in water. And when Rin cares, it's a dangerous, unwavering thing.

Ai doesn't know how to fix any of it. How to make it so things could just be normal, even a little bit. Evidently, retreating was not the answer; it only made sense Rin would give chase. He was competitive like that. It leaves him frustrated. If he thinks on it even harder, he and Rin had never fought like that before; stubbornly, Ai acquiesces to himself that it's only natural for things to feel this stiff and off after such an ordeal. If he really, really looks inward, what he's reacting to most isn't even Rin. It's just himself. The plain, bare acknowledgment that he has changed, and doesn't know how to move forward through uncharted waters. How to navigate a wall that seems so insurmountable.

Rin shucks off his jacket and Ai can't help the way he flicks a glance in his direction. Has to see the evidence for himself. He doesn't have it in him to be hurt, dodging the gut churning anxiety he'd felt just a minute ago. It's as if he's already resigned. I should have left more is his first thought. Pinches his brows as he turns around to walk in to the apartment. Would he let me now? I doubt it. Pathetic rumination, and it's with an overly dramatic sigh that Ai flops into the far corner of the couch, close enough to Rin if he chose to engage and chit-chat, but far enough away to grant him space and privacy while he changed - and the option to disengage entirely. Speaking of taking up space--

"Senpai, I have no idea what that's supposed to mean." His voice is organically a little frustrated, a little exasperated, and yet the tail end of a lilt. It's familiar. He sits low, tucked into the armrest, head lolled over it with his legs crossed in front of him to minimize his footprint on the sofa. Pauses a moment before lifting his head to look at Rin, almost deadpan. "You shouldn't invite trouble."

[buttterfly]

It's easy to plaster a fake smile on his face.

It's harder to shove away the frown that threatens to creep over him.

He knows there's a shift in the atmosphere of this place. Whether it's from the raw fucking on his futon, the angry words in the shower or Ai's gaze drifting to his neck suspiciously, hard to say. But Rin knows he's the root of all evil here, and he tries to minimize his impact so much it's painfully obvious. Meticulous in putting his things where they below, toeing around the apartment like he's an apparition of some kind.

All the while his gaze keeps shifting to Ai, claiming a spot on the couch quietly. Until it's not quiet anymore, and Rin has to rummage around in his brain for any semblance of an answer. What does he mean by that? There's exasperation fresh in Ai's voice, and it throws Rin off guard. He tenses up.

"Uh." An excellent way to start an answer to a direct question. "Invite-- what?" He dares to venture, standing behind the couch, his clothing tight in his arms. That gaze makes him take a step back, that tiny frown finally curling over his features. One born more out of confusion than frustration or anger.

[taeru]

Ai can't tell if Rin is being sincere or not, but when the silence after his blank invite what? lasts for longer than Ai can take in an inhale, he knows Rin's uncertainty is the real thing. And now Ai is really exasperated, eyebrows a heavy line over his eyes as he contorts himself to be looking up at Rin who stands behind the couch now.

If Rin squints, he might see the faintest hint of a pout - it's what Ai's trying to fight away from his face, the natural progression of his simultaneous frustration and stubborn disposition.

"What space would I be taking up that I wasn't already?" He's leading the question - wants Rin to figure out for himself what exactly he's saying before he doubles down on it. If all that's tangibly changed is the mutual if silent and vague acknowledgment of how Ai feels, the space to be taken up is something else entirely, and Ai would bet his whole ass that is not what Rin meant.

[buttterfly]

Oof. Okay. He winces a little under the tone, grasping the meaning Ai was trying to insinuate now. He's exhausted, it's hard to think logically after such an emotionally rocking near-week. Rin swallows, his thumb brushing over the clothes in his hands.

Only to be followed immediately by a sigh.

There's only so much he can do to fix things. He didn't know, couldn't have known without verbal confirmation about Ai's feelings before asking to move in here, before grappling with his insecurities and goading him into a fueled fuck fest. Rin levels his breathing a little, keeping his gaze firm.

"Right. Sorry." He harbors another apology, it's all he can think to offer in these volatile times. If only to keep their moods tapered, allow this place to become a safe space once more.

"Just letting you know I want to listen when you have something to say. that's all." He pushes off the couch, casting one more glance at the front door before heading into the bathroom.

[taeru]

If Ai had a yen coin for every apology Rin's dropped since he's come back, Ai could sponsor the All Japan himself. It's a funny thing, really. Can tell Rin's just trying to find footing among the wreckage - what Ai had misinterpreted as Rin treating him and their mess like eggshells is instead him, too, trying to find his normal again. Ai has to imagine Rin's had one hell of a run with it. Can't even begin to think why he'd get into a fight with Sousuke and have to leave-- well. Ai could guess, but for everyone's sakes, hopes that isn't the case.

Doesn't want to think about what came after. Can't. His jealousy is overpowered by his raw, unconditional concern for Rin, and how much worse that could have been if it wasn't a friend.

"Okay." It's spoken gently, a finite acknowledgment. As Rin heads toward the bathroom, though, Ai has his first instance of embodying this which Rin has asked of him. He does so with a determined look in his eye, and maybe a bit vulnerable.

"Just don't treat me differently." His expression softens a little, along with his voice, as if he's disarmed by his own insistence. "Please. That's all I ask. Not because of--" vaguely gesturing, "this," by which he means that, "and not because of what happened." I need you to be able to look me in the eye and not see one massive mistake.

[buttterfly]

Rin lingers in the bathroom doorway, letting Ai's words sink in. The captain in him proud that Ai is immediately asserting himself and giving into the permission Rin has laid out for him. The other wants to retort something, but he swallows down the temptation, leaning against the trim instead.

"I won't." He reassures quietly. There's no guarantee they will be able to slip back into old habits so easily. There's unbandaged wounds, fresh and raw, still. Rin can sit and lap at them all day, worry with it, but it won't make it go any easier. His fingers curl a little around the bundle of clothes, whatever he can right now.

"Promise." He tacks on lightly with a lopsided smile, knowing full well they will try and try and try, but there's no guarantee to any of these things. After all, how do you go back to treating someone the same, after that kind of situation? Any of them really.

[taeru]

Ai supposes in a way, he's given Rin a worse fate than even Haruka had given him.

Caught Rin in a hell of their own making and has effectively begged him not to leave. At least with Haruka, he broke free, even if Ai gets the sense there is a ghost constantly chasing on his heels in that wake. But he didn't have to wake up to Haruka every morning. Didn't have to sit there and force himself to carve out a normalcy among wreckage.

He tries so, so hard not to feel like a walking, breathing burden, waiting for Rin to disappear into the shower room before prostrating himself on the couch at full length and staring up at his ceiling.

The rain comes down outside, though it's significantly less violent than it had been the night Rin disappeared. Ai forces himself off the couch and out of his thoughts, shuffling toward the living room window, the smaller kitchen window, and then the window closest to his bed, pulling the curtains on each.

He has to hang Rin's jacket, but it's raining outside. It would have to be a problem for tomorrow. Ai sits at his desk, and he catches the duck plush Rin had gifted him from his periphery, right where it has been on his bed since the day Rin arrived.

His eyes slip closed as his mind wanders, elbows on the desktop and palms rubbing over his forehead, chasing away shadows of thoughts he isn't yet brave enough to actualize. What does Rin think of him now, after all of this? Was it a better impression before or after they fucked, before or after Ai let his tongue slip? How much does Sousuke know? Ai looks down at his phone, sees he has replies, but doesn't want to open them.

[buttterfly]

The shower serves its purposes.

One to scrub himself near raw, shame flooding him. It's one thing to be desperate in three separate instances and lay yourself bare for someone. The first with Ai, and the tumultuous conclusion of that. Two, being Sousuke, someone who you now don't know as well as you think. And three, with an old friend who you had an idea of what might transpire but were so deep in self loathing that it didn't matter to you.

But then to have Ai look at him like that? It brings a certain feeling back. One that hasn't come up in quite some time. You can still hear Everest's stupid voice in the locker room. "Bet he bends over in the showers." And Rin has to bite the back of his knuckles before he punches the wall again.

The second purpose being draining the hot water just lulls him. It's sheer, dumb luck that Mikhail isn't in Japan yet. It would probably begin in teasing, into the horrifying suggestion that maybe Rin should sit the All Japan out. He bites his lip, fury blossoming in him at the prospect. There's the drive of a normal person, and then there's the drive of Rin fucking Matsuoka. And it can be a scary thing.

So Rin shoves it all aside. It's not going to get in the way.

When he emerges from the shower, towel slung over his neck to keep Ai's gaze from lingering too far, it's like he's a different person. Slipped back into a new mask, one that feels all too real and similar to the third year Rin from Samezuka. Confident in his approach as captain, and stubbornly determined to do whatever necessary to reach his end game.

"Thanks." He tosses over his shoulder, noting the closed blinds as he crawls onto his futon. "Sorry, kind of drained the water." He says sheepishly, running his hand through his hair. Exhaustion finally creeps at him. Rin shoves his phone into the charger, knowing he owes a lot of people some explanations. Well. One at least.

[taeru]

Several times while Rin is in the shower, Ai's feeble attempts at trying to go back to his studies are interrupted, casting long glances toward the shower room door and feeling a knot tie itself too tight in his chest.

How much of all of this could have been avoided or outright helped if he didn't cave to the part of him that is human? Didn't let Rin's goading work? If they had never slept together, if realizations had never happened, if Rin didn't storm out--

Rin-senpai was right though, he thinks miserably, closing his textbook and reaching for something else, Despite all the bad, it was still worth it. I want to regret it, but I can't.

His pen writes across the page furiously, back slunking down until he's nearly curled over the smaller booklet in front of him on the desk, and snapping back to rod-straight at the sound of the door clicking. Watches Rin retreat to his futon, and does notice the towel around his neck - oddly considerate, Ai thinks. Even if a bit useless by this point.

"That's alright, I took mine earlier." He wonders faintly if Rin, too, felt the floor threaten to swallow him whole at the spot just to the right of the entrance inside the shower room. Maybe not; the way Rin exits the shower, Ai gets the impression he's shifted into a different mood, and Ai can't place it. If he's honest, it's a little jarring. This must be what he felt like twenty minutes ago... Sorry, senpai. It was late, but not horribly so; Ai looks to his desk clock, ten pm.

"Will you take tomorrow off?" All Japan was a week away at this point, and Rin probably couldn't afford to take it easy, though Ai thinks he should take a day to recover. But Ai sees the rings under his eyes and the tiredness in his shoulders and the bruises poking out from under his towel, and rather than wonder if Rin is going to try and pull himself together, he wonders how. Guilt and awe crawl up his spine both at the same time.

[buttterfly]

"Nah," He admits, pulling out his little book to place near his pillow. "I tapered the last few days. Like hell I'm going to take it easy now."

There's a little glimpse of the old Rin. He looks over, wondering what Ai is writing. Homework maybe? He pushes the thought aside, feeling a little scrutinized underneath Ai's curious (perhaps a bit worrying) glances roving over him.

It's some small grace he's at a private gym until Mikhail arrives. He doesn't want to imagine the scrutiny that's going to come from the bruises. Whatever. Let people think what they want. He'll let his swimming speak the volumes. Hopefully they'll fade before next week, but.

"My Mom and sister are going to be in Tokyo, for it." Rin doesn't know why he's bringing it up. Maybe to distract from the obvious that Haru is obviously going to be at the competition. With any luck, in the lane next to him. Despite their transgressions, swimming is a language they can still speak. Maybe that's the little thing that lights a fire under him.

Maybe swimming again is just what he needs to get his mind off of this. He peers back at Ai for a moment, before breaking his gaze, flopping back against the futon to stare at the ceiling. He doesn't try to dissect things for once. Because Ai firmly told him to stop and treat things like they were. So, he tries.

[taeru]

It's always been a slightly tenuous thing for him. Swimming. Swimming with Rin.

By the time Ai had the chops to match Rin at the starting block, Rin was already trailblazing. Chasing higher heights and people who had come first. In this world that means the most to Matsuoka Rin, this world which Ai has watched build up, break apart, and repair Rin's psyche like a never-ending carousel, Ai could never quite fit. He did once, briefly, in his second year, earning his mettle more than anyone else present - but it was a blip on the radar.

Ai also knows who else will be there. Who always matches Rin's times almost down to the milisecond. Who will take up occupancy beside him in lane five. Ai could break as many school and personal records as he wants, could swim as many late nights as he wants, could cry and scream and gnash his teeth through the hardships all he wants, could take up an Olympic stage - he knows he will never be Nanase Haruka. Ai was always destined to come second-- third.

Sousuke-senpai, he thinks with a mild horror. That's two people for whom he's likely compromised the All Japan. Rin's talking, but Ai's whipping out his phone to stare at the '4' badge next to Sousuke's name in his unread notif pane.

Except he can't bring himself to open them after all. Not yet. Not at ten pm when Rin's finally back; Ai sighs quietly to himself, shuts his phone and places it face-down on his desk. Racks his brain for the syllables he'd heard Rin say to try and piece together that which had for a moment been accidentally blocked out.

The smile that overtakes his face is gentle and sweet and genuine.

"That's great! You must miss them a lot, Rin-senpai." Doesn't say the obvious. Will Gou-san be cheering for your old teammates, too? Ai doesn't have a death wish. He rubs the back of his neck, "My parents can't make the trip. That's alright, though. Uncle Mikhail said he'd be there." For Rin, not for Ai, but still. Ai can at least pretend he has one person in his corner. He swivels in his chair a bit more to be facing Rin, "Has he contacted you yet? Knowing him, he found a way to take a detour..."

[buttterfly]

He's trying. Trying to treat things like they were. Unfortunately Rin is Rin, and he's thinking too hard on things. Especially like biting his pillow on this very futon while Ai was dick deep in him. He shoves the thought aside, and bites his lip. It's not turning him on, but flooding him with that hot wave of shame again.

He hopes he hasn't fucked himself completely for this. He needs to be at his best.

Rin raises an eyebrow when Ai grapples for his phone, before almost immediately setting it down again. He frowns, and wonders if Sousuke got back to Ai. Rin was the one who asked him to text him, so he has no room to be upset or anything. He just gives him a sidelong look, and decides to open his book instead, dodging the question about his family a little.

He misses them like hell. But he's the one who's been avoiding everyone since he got here. He sucks in a little breath, letting his book fall on his face for a moment of contemplation. He wants to bite through his lip again, Ai's got that tone. One he can't call him out on being upset about something, but something is there. It's awkward having your coach be your roommate's family member. So he just skips over the statement about his family entirely.

"Last I heard he was in Dubai visiting... someone." Rin didn't dare ask who, because that look in Mikhail's eyes was the weird one he didn't want to know about. "Probably arrive in the next day or two though, if only to piss off that buddy of his." Rin flips the page of his book.

[taeru]

It was as if between them was a sheer screen, both casting long glances when they don't think the other is looking. Observing, too uncertain if the floor is stable enough to support another step forward. Because Ai catches the way Rin bites his lip, and again, and catches that long glance tossed his way, and the way he avoids certain topics. Were this five days ago, he'd pry - try to get Rin out of his head, lay it bare so they could try and work through it together. Now? Ai has never felt so much like a tumor hanging off the side of someone's tongue.

Without even thinking, his fingers ghost over the bruised marks on the side of his neck; Rin really did get him good. Wasn't discerning about where he placed them either. It's been turtlenecks and collared shirts since Rin left. He caught a few looks at swim practice, but would bet the only reason the likes of Rei and Hiyori did not say anything was the dull, distant, unrelenting look in his eye Ai carried with him for four days straight. At least it wasn't high school, inviting a different type of attention that would have brought a different type of bruise.

His hand lands more solidly on the back of his neck, as if to cover up his reminiscing gesture. Blinks himself back to the present and turns to his desk, pen in hand, primed on the sentence he'd stopped in the middle of before Rin entered back into the room.

"Buddy is a loose fit," Ai nearly laughs. "He's responsible most of the time, so he'll be there to coach you, senpai. Worst case, I can badger him a little." His tone is distracted; he's gnawing on the tip of his pen now. Thoughts so jumbled he can't even untangle them long enough to put them down on paper.

[buttterfly]

Rin snorts. "Yeah, if they're not strangling each other, buddy could be looser. Thanks for at least being more responsible than a grown man." Rin carefully leaves out that being around Azuma and Mikhail means being around Haru. But maybe enough time has passed, maybe they can handle things differently now.

Maybe Rin has a new perspective on things.

He misses Ai grabbing at his own neck, instead tossing his book beside the futon, and finally finally turning his phone on for the first time in days. It's a wall of notifications, mostly from Sousuke and Ai, some from Makoto--Rin seethes internally, because that can only mean one thing--and even some from Haru.

Fucking blabbermouth. Rin tosses his phone back, ignoring the messages for now in lieu of being angry at Sousuke for being a perfectly reasonable person and going through their list of mutual friends wondering if anybody had heard from or seen Rin. He'll deal with that later. He pulls the blanket up over himself, letting out a shuddering breath in hopes of calming himself.

Back to routine tomorrow. Ass crack of dawn, running. After breakfast, to the pool and there until evening. Then maybe some weights and cardio. He's making a mental check list through the fury and guilt flooding him. He is a right piece of work, isn't he. He thinks to himself, trying to level himself out.

"Do you work tomorrow? I'll try to be quiet when I get up."

[taeru]

Ai's smile is deadpan, "It's a low bar sometimes." He knows his uncle. Incredibly capable swimmer, the mind of a genius. Distracted by the weirdest shit.

He hears a gentle thud and turns to look at Rin again, only to see Rin suddenly retreating under his blanket. Then looks, and sees Rin's discarded phone. Ah. Hears that shuddered breath. It isn't Ai's business. He shouldn't pry. Rin's made it abundantly clear that Ai trying to insert himself has only historically caused problems. Ai's made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want anything to change. And yet. Fundamentally, radically, he sees a distressed Rin and his instinct has his mouth opening--

Rin's question disarms him. Ai blinks.

"Only practice tomorrow. But you're usually pretty quiet, so don't worry about it." Ai looks to his phone, looks back at Rin. He'd managed to lodge his foot in his mouth for a grand total of two seconds; unfortunately, his instinct and unconditional worry wins out.

"Senpai...? What's wrong?" What isn't?, Ai's brain unhelpfully supplies. He can sympathize if not outright empathize with at least a good half of the list items currently stacked on Rin's shoulders - but maybe if Ai gives him the floor, he can make sense of them too. Ai knows Rin's not going to sleep with his head not screwed on straight.

[buttterfly]

"Least you break that family curse." He mutters into the sheets, trying to go back into something a little more fun. Those mindsets are so hard to adopt now. Ugh.

"I worry. Jut want to be considerate after last time." But then Ai is intuitive, and asks things that normal friends ask. Rin bites his lip, his fingers curling into his blanket. It would be so easy to snap back 'what business is it of yours?' or something equally biting. Ai would back down easily. But Rin doesn't want to do that, fuck.

He tries taking in another breath and muttering in something that sounds more pouty than angry. "Just Sou blowing up my goddamn phone." Okay yes, he was right to be worried. Rin disappeared in the middle of the night after a horrendous argument, and went awol for days. Rin would freak if he or Haru or Ai did the same thing.

"Sorry. I shouldn't be pissed about it."

[taeru]

Something tells Ai it isn't just Sousuke blowing up Rin's phone. Sousuke had been blowing up his, too - a friend who is rightfully worried. Maybe if Ai read his own texts he might have more context, but much like Rin himself, he doesn't want to open that can of worms this late at night. In his case, it's likely just Sousuke giving him details of all that transpired while Rin was with him, or asking for details now that Rin is back. Given the apparent fury in which Rin separated from Sousuke's apartment, Ai is willing to wager the texts Rin's read aren't nearly as easy to digest.

"A lot happened," Ai provides rather unhelpfully. All he has is his intuition and reading between the lines. And he has half a mind to ask Rin for the details, but also doesn't want to make his upset sink even deeper - especially not when he knows on some level it likely brought up some difficult feelings for Sousuke, too.

Ai tilts his head and tries again, voice extremely gentle and unassuming, "He worries about you... It'd make sense he'd want to check you're alright now that he knows you're back here." He did not mean to word it in such a way as to imply he himself was yet another problem, but. Philosophers have dedicated their entire lives to unearthing the human subconscious, and how one's deepest fears tend to manifest themselves whether one is conscious of it or not.

[buttterfly]

"Yeah, you're right."

Because Ai is. Rin is probably grossly, stupidly wrong per fucking usual. Sousuke is just worried about him. Obviously Makoto and Haru are to some extent to. He has no idea what Sousuke spilled in regards to why he stormed out, what happened. But knowing his friend, he probably kept the details slim and circumstances even more so. He's a good friend when he's not trying to sneak around with secrets at least.

He tries to quiet his mind a little more, focus less on the voices tossing around insults at himself, and focus on slowing his breathing, keeping his fingers tight in the sheets. It's still raining out, though thankfully less so than the last few nights. He secretly hopes Mikhail's plane will just get stuck in Dubai and Rin won't have to deal with him.

But that's selfish and he knows it. Ai is right. People want to see him swim, care about him swimming. So he groans and forces himself to pull his phone back out and text his sister and mom about their upcoming trip. They're staying with a relative not far from Ai's place. He decides to bitterly shoot off a text to Sousuke that he's safe but doesn't want to talk right now and piddles some equally unassuming messages to Makoto.

Haru is hard. He stares at it for a moment. sousuke said you ran away. you okay? And if it isn't stupidly considerate and absolutely terrible at conveying any sort of worry or whatever. Rin just texts back something akin to 'i'm good. show me what university has done for you next week' before he shoves his phone back under his pillow.

"There." He rolls his eyes, stuffing his face back against his pillow. "Hopefully everyone leaves you alone now that they know I'm not floating downstream or something."

It's quiet before Rin tacks on. "You need to sleep too. You've got work and class and everything else on top of training."

[taeru]

Ah.

"Everyone--?" Ai shakes his head. Whatever momentary hitch of something was just in his voice is very quickly spackled over and buffed out, minding his tone very very evenly, "The only person who contacted me was Sousuke-senpai."

Everyone. It's a good thing Rin has friends who care this deeply for him, really. Even the complicated ones.

He can't even identify the yawning in his chest. A pitiful loneliness, perhaps? Jealousy? Relief? All of the above? He turns back toward his desk.

"I'd like to hope they know you're safe here." He means it in a light way, levity, but there is a dissonance between his sincere words and his sincere, if misplaced feelings. "It's good you've reached out to them, senpai."

Rin's right, it's gotten late. Tomorrow will be a day that utterly tests him, and Rin isn't the only competitor in the apartment. Ai presses at his forehead with his palm, shoves it through his hair. Mindfully turns down the light on his desk lamp.

"I'll be alright-- I'll sleep soon. But I have to finish this first."

[buttterfly]

Oh. Something in Rin sinks. Now what the fuck did he do wrong? Ai's voice hitched, and Rin hates whatever lurches in his gut. Why did Rin open his fucking mouth? Nobody besides Sousuke knew he was staying at Ai's, why the fuck would anyone text Ai about it?

Rin wishes the futon would swallow him whole. Because there's that guilty wave at that you're safe here. He tries to grit out a response, nothing comes up instead of a little grunt and nod. He tries to make himself as small as possible again, pulling the blanket over his head.

"You can keep your light up, it's cool." He doesn't care, this isn't his house, he wants to pretend like he doesn't exist beyond being a speck on the floor. "Good luck with whatever you're working on." And he tries to will himself to sleep.

[taeru]

Ai's back turned to Rin, he can't get a read on how his attempt at an even-keel response has settled in his roommate. If Ai were better, more equipped, less vulnerable, more worthy, he wouldn't have reacted at all to begin with.

It is a clawing ache in his chest, all told. It was easier not to quantify the obvious when it didn't matter; he and Rin had their marching orders. Rin took on the world, and Ai flitted on and off his radar as it was convenient. But now with feelings laid bare, now forced to reconcile with that which he's tried to outrun for years, the painfully obvious rubs itself into his chest like sand into a wound. Third best. Not even good enough for a rebound. Not a consideration on his other friend's radars either. If he hadn't texted Rin those months ago, would he have been remembered at all?

"Too late," he quips back in a lilt, something of a stubborn joke. He's grateful that Rin is safe; he's grateful that Rin has people ready to rally around him. He's grateful Rin is determined to get his condition back on track. Grateful they can both share a stage. Grateful to trust one another even with the difficult stuff. Gratitude is surely what lines his eyes with a glassy sheen, kept at bay only out of a desire not to disturb Rin's attempt at falling asleep.

It's about forty-five minutes later that Ai himself endeavours to do the same, shutting off his desk lamp completely, collecting his phone, and crawling into his bed. He keeps his back to the apartment, hugs his gift close to his chest under the covers, and closes his eyes.