rabbithatch | calmer weather | kengo utahoshi and ryusei sakuta

calmer weather | kengo utahoshi and ryusei sakuta

For now, it seemed the worst of the storm had passed. Weeks had gone by since Gentarou's death and subsequent revival. Ryusei had betrayed the KRC and also been seemingly forgiven by all of them. Everything seemed fairly normal, aside from the dark cloud on the horizon that the club opted to ignore at times. While things were calm and happy now, the war was still ongoing. Horoscopes were still appearing and attacks were still happening. It would only get worse. In time, it would be too much to ignore.

This was part of the reason Kengo had ducked out of class an hour earlier to go to the infirmary. There were no longer the days of leaving class to go to the Rabbit Hatch and work on Switches in solitude. No more Switches needed to be made and Kengo had spent far too much time going over the older ones again and again until he was forced to stop. Repetition did nothing good for anyone when things were already at their best. This, today, was an honest health issue. While he knew it wasn't the quietest location in the school, it was a better alternative to finding a place on the floor in the Rabbit Hatch and having to deal with everyone when they showed up.

Kengo's case was on the floor next to his bed, his cell phone out of his pocket and on the table top, just in case anyone decided to call him using it. His jacket was off and draped over the side of the bed, his tie loosened just enough to not bother him while he slept.

Unfortunately, even with medicine the nurse had given him, the pain in his head wouldn't completely subside.

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"But—"

I'll be fine, Kengo had said. And for now, that did seem to be true. It was true all the other times that this happened.... Tentatively, Ryusei started to let go, but realized that maybe Kengo couldn't stand yet, and tightened his grip on Kengo's shoulders again. "A-are you sure you don't need...?"

It was the bed that had done it, Ryusei thought in a flash. Someone resting in an infirmary bed, collapsing. Would he have reacted like this if he and Kengo had been standing anywhere else? How embarrassing. Embarrassing, but.... "You have to tell me if you need anything," he said, more calmly, through an exhale. "And... and please be careful."

When Ryusei's grip tightened, there was the faintest hint of a smile on Kengo's face. Embarrassment was something he was feeling as well, over this entire thing. The expression was reminiscent of one he'd had during their time alone in the Hatch a few weeks before. But that personality was drastically different from the way Kengo had been acting since. Ryusei's reveal had essentially made him a completely different person and Kengo had treated him as such. It was almost as if the whole time before the event that changed everything had never happened -- except for the reaction Kengo was having now.

The smile was gone just as quickly as it had come, at least for now. It was nothing more than a slip.

There was a heavy silence while Kengo thought of what to say. At any other point, he would have spoken without thinking, but Ryusei's panic made him pause. He wanted to be careful. Seeing Ryusei like that had caused a horrible, uncomfortable mess of feelings.

"I know you're not used to seeing me like this. Everyone tries to help, but nothing ever works. Medicine, rest... I've spent a long time trying to figure out how to make it better. I can't. All I can do is try to avoid it happening in the first place and wait until it passes. ... sometimes, I don't even have to do anything." He lowered his gaze again, focusing on the collar of Ryusei's uniform instead. "That's why I don't want you to worry so much about something you can't help."

"I-I see." Could Ryusei let go now? He wasn't sure, but Kengo was still holding on, so Ryusei didn't want to repeat the situation from a second ago, when Kengo had clutched him tighter. Standing here was starting to become uncomfortable. It would be different if his arm were slung over or under Kengo's shoulders, but this.... Ryusei could feel Kengo breathing.

"Can you stand now?" Lie back down on the bed, he would add, but Kengo hadn't seemed to want to.

This... this whole thing, the apparent concern for Ryusei's frame of mind, calling Ryusei by name several times now by Ryusei's count.... Ryusei wanted to leave. Get his bearings. Calm his heart rate.

There. That was one of the feelings Kengo hated the most -- when he allowed himself to be vulnerable. Every time it would slip and the realization would sink in, Kengo quickly moved to cover it up and pretend it had never happened in the first place. So instead of allowing it to continue once he noticed Ryusei's reaction, Kengo made a point of thinking how to best avoid the situation.

"For now..." Putting a bit more pressure on Ryusei's shoulder to balance himself, Kengo pushed his body back to sit on the bed again. For a few seconds, Kengo kept his hands on the same spots on Ryusei's body, grasping the fabric with his fingers. Let go. ... right. He had to let go if he was going to lay back down and try to get better somehow, but... he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Kengo repeated the phrase to himself again, a bit stronger, forcing himself to release his hold and bring his hands back. The fabric was wrinkled from how tightly he'd been holding it.

What could he say? There had to be some way to make things less uncomfortable, but nothing came to mind. Instead, Kengo settled for moving himself back on the bed, putting his back against the pillows again and reaching for his water. He never once attempted to make eye contact with Ryusei.

Now that the crisis was seemingly over, Ryusei found himself clasping his hands and looking at the floor. Why had that become so uncomfortable? It almost never was when Gentarou was involved, but Gentarou also didn't try to hang onto Ryusei. Push at a little, maybe, when Ryusei helped him stand. But never clutch at Ryusei even when he was attempting to lie down. For a moment, Ryusei had been almost afraid that Kengo wouldn't let go.

"I-I'll take care of Fire Switch," he said with the ingratiating smile he almost never used now. He almost never used it now because he didn't spend much time with people who weren't Club members. The smile slipped a little, then turned into a wince. What was he doing?

"I'll let you know if I'm unsure about anything," he said, more naturally, raising his head. "Promise."

Ryusei's momentary regression to his past self didn't go unnoticed, but Kengo saw no reason to comment on it. He took a long sip of his water, then another one, almost as though he was trying to distract himself with anything but talking. Once he put the lid back on and set it aside, Kengo took the chance to pick the Fire Switch up from the table. As he had before, his touch was much lighter when handling it.

It would have been better for him to go, he was sure, but he did still trust Ryusei. That didn't stop the thoughts from bothering him about how he wasn't living up to his responsibilities and that he was asking the other for too much. One of the insecurities Kengo had told the other about during their last time together had been that -- though Kengo hoped Ryusei would have forgotten all of that by now. Kengo certainly tried to push it out of his memory. After all... nothing from that time applied to now. It wasn't the same person, or the same actions, or the same feelings. There were a few shadows that slipped through, but...

Kengo held the Switch out to Ryusei with both hands. "Call me if you need anything." He almost added that he would be to the Hatch as soon as he could, but Kengo wasn't sure if he would be good for anything for the rest of the day at this rate.

Ryusei hesitated a moment overlong as he stared at the Switch. To take it, he'd have to touch Kengo's hands, and in any other situation it wouldn't have warranted any awkwardness or any kind of feelings at all, but Ryusei was nervous for a reason he couldn't quite place. No, he knew why, but why now, at this moment, was the real question. Helping someone back to bed when they were ill didn't mean anything.

He was being silly. Taking a breath he hoped was suitably surreptitious, he casually reached for the Switch, forcing his face not to change as their hands touched.

"I'll keep you updated, if you're worried," he said, inclining his head toward the Kaban once he'd stuffed the Switch and his hands in his pockets. Or he could call Kengo, with his phone, but that wasn't free. Technically, Kengo's time wasn't free, either, and in the event that Ryusei did make a serious error, he had no doubt that Kengo would jump out of bed and possibly yell a lot while stalking angrily to Rabbit Hatch. Maybe Ryusei should get Gentarou in here to placate Kengo. Not that Ryusei intended on making a serious error, but he'd already erred once when he'd failed to get a nurse or someone to come in here.

Kengo had said that there had been nothing anyone could do. Ryusei looked down to hide his frustrated sigh. "I'll get you some more water," he added when he looked up again. "Would that help?"

Kengo hadn't been so lucky about keeping a straight face. There was a slight flinch that crossed his face when Ryusei touched him again, the same internal voice that had spoken earlier scolded him for his thoughts of grabbing at the other. As soon as Ryusei took the Switch, Kengo dropped his hand back to his lap. Distracting himself with the sheets on the bed seemed like the next best thing to do, especially if he was going to attempt to sleep, so Kengo busied himself with tugging at them while he spoke.

Was he worried? Of course he was worried. "You don't need to update me unless there's something you need, but I don't want you to be afraid to ask. I'll stay here for awhile." While Kengo knew more details about what he was going to be doing, he felt it was best not to say for fear of looking too weak. He was careful with moving the sheets, wondering if the slightest movement would cause him to have another pain. It seemed better now, but sometimes he couldn't predict them at all.

Kengo perked his head back up at the offer, thinking it over for a moment. Refusing any sort of help was usually his style, but... Ryusei was genuinely worried, even if it was because of some sort of projection from lingering issues in his past. "It might help..." He was contradicting what he'd said earlier, but if it would help Ryusei to feel as though he was making some sort of difference, then...

Ryusei remained there a moment without speaking. It wasn't like he hadn't been very careful not to reveal anything on his face, but Kengo's flinch had bothered him, a little. Must be the lingering discomfort from being so close earlier. Yes, that was it.

Maybe it was a good thing that Kengo had decided that updates were unnecessary. Ryusei couldn't imagine how bad it would get if the two of them had to be in one another's presence for the next long while. Or not. They would just be on each other's screens. It'd be like talking to Burgermeal. But the issue was moot.

He turned to the door. "I'll be right back, then."

It wasn't like anything had changed, Ryusei thought as he came back. This... kind of thing, with the proximity and the touching, had happened before, and nothing had changed. Distracted as he approached Kengo once more, Ryusei noticed too late that Horuwankov was in his path, and in the attempt to avoid stepping on the Foodroid, overbalanced and fell onto the bed.

Kengo wasn't sure what to do with himself while Ryusei was gone. As soon as the other was out of sight, he picked at the sheets of the bed and stared down at them. If he at least tried to rest, then maybe things would be better later. Maybe he could work on his homework. Though with Kengo being one of the top students of the school, and all of his work with the KRC, Kengo was regularly at least one week ahead on all of his subjects. It was just like his work with the Switches -- he could almost be too efficient at everything he did.

Distracting himself with homework didn't seem like a bad idea, if he couldn't fall asleep. He already had his books from his morning classes with him.

As soon as he heard Ryusei coming back into the room, Kengo lifted his head and turned to face him, immediately going wide-eyed as the other crashed into the bed. Close... This was really too close... Kengo let out a breath, shaking with the same nervousness he'd shown when Ryusei had leaned over his shoulder a few weeks before in the Hatch.

Putting his hands down, Kengo grasped Ryusei's shoulders, gently nudging him up. "... are you all right?" It almost felt as though his hands were shaking, but he couldn't be sure.

"It's nothing," Ryusei said, getting to his feet. "Are you...?"

Ryusei had been sure he hadn't landed on Kengo's body, but maybe someone suddenly falling, causing a shift in the elevation of the bed wasn't conducive to the dizziness, or whatever it was. Not to speak of the normal shock someone got when someone started falling, as Ryusei well knew.

"H-here..." He held out the water bottle—anticlimactically, he thought, after his fall, but it couldn't be helped. Horuwankov was circling his feet, he thought it sounded apologetic, so Ryusei picked it up and put it on the bed by Kengo.

"I'm fine..." The response had come before Kengo thought about it, but there really was nothing wrong. He'd only been caught off guard by the other's sudden fall and a bit concerned. Mostly, he was still thinking about how close their proximity had been. Just as every time they were close to each other, Kengo found it difficult to let the other go, despite how quickly he had stood back up.

With Kengo's back against the pillows and Ryusei at the edge of the bed, his hands slipped from the other boy's shoulders. Just before he'd lost contact completely, Kengo had given one light tug as if to pull Ryusei back down to him -- something barely noticeable -- before dropping his hands back to his lap. Even if it was something he instinctively wanted to do, what else could he do about it? Kengo knew that every time they ended up too close to each other, Ryusei would walk away from him. There really was no point in making him more uncomfortable.

Kengo took the bottle from Ryusei's hands, giving a slight bow of his head. When he looked away again, he kept the bottle in his lap, turning it over. There had to be something he could say...

It wasn't like he was hyperaware of touch—or even Kengo's touch—or anything. But if he asked Kengo about that light pressure on his shoulder just a second ago, the answer would probably be What do you mean? and Ryusei would have revealed that he had read more into a simple touch than was warranted. It wasn't, after all, unreasonable to have a firm grip on someone while helping them up.

So why was Kengo fiddling with the bottle like that? Had Ryusei gotten the wrong brand? No, it was the same as the one earlier. And that was silly; if Kengo had wanted something other than water, he would have said so. Probably.

"Kengo...." He plucked the hovering Nuggeropa from the air and put it on Horuwanknov's head to hide how fidgety he was. The question he wanted to ask was only going to make it worse between them, he knew, but it was the lesser evil. He worded it carefully, so as not to seem presumptive. "What... did you call me, before?"

To be honest, the question about the touch might have ended up with a more honest response. At least with that, Kengo knew why he was doing it and had been actively thinking about his reasoning for it. When the question came, Kengo picked at the bottle's wrapper with his nail and kept his attention focused on the sheets in front of him. ... what had he called him? Didn't he always refer to Sakuta by his last name?

Though... As Kengo thought about it, he couldn't distinctly remember when the name had slipped, but he could remember the feeling of saying it. It was different than the other times he'd addressed Ryusei and he hadn't given it much thought while it was happening. It had simply felt like the right thing to do, he supposed. ... but Ryusei was questioning him about it. It didn't seem as though he was angry, but Kengo didn't know what to think. Why was he even asking? ... was he supposed to explain himself?

"It slipped... I guess." Kengo didn't sound very sure of himself, still unable to look up at the other. Was he supposed to apologize? He didn't know if that would make a difference. He couldn't even say the other's name, now that he was thinking about it. The idea of repeating it felt too ... personal.

That was an odd slip to make, considering Ryusei called Kengo by name now, himself. Not close enough for that, then?

... Understandable. Kengo hadn't changed his form of address toward anyone, and the only reason Ryusei had was because his prior personality, the one he used to show the Club, had largely been an affectation. Why should Kengo change the way he called people?

That was the question, though; why then, had Kengo called Ryusei by name? Right upon waking, no less. "Kengo, what do you think I'm talking about?"

To Ryusei, it was obvious, but it might not have been, if Ryusei had been too vague. Kengo's answer had made sense (to an... extent), but Ryusei didn't want any misunderstandings. And if there was a misunderstanding? Uncomfortably, Ryusei shrugged off the thought. He'd get to that when—if—he got to it.

"Addressing you so casually. Isn't that what you're talking about?" Again, Kengo couldn't recall the exact moments he'd said it, but he was sure this was what Ryusei was talking about. It made him even more uncomfortable that he was being called out on it -- that Ryusei had noticed him being so vulnerable in those moments. It was his own fault for not being more careful.

Kengo couldn't help but squirm a bit, shifting uncomfortably and bringing his legs up to fold them closer to his body. He was still picking at the label on his bottle, his head turned away enough that he was now focusing on the floor instead. Just from his behavior, it was clear how awkward the topic was for him to talk about.

So he'd been correct, then, in surmising that Kengo didn't want to be that close.

Only in dreams, huh? Ryusei didn't let the bitter smile show on his face as he turned to go. "I should get to work."

He'd gone a mere few steps before he stopped. Something hadn't felt right. If it was just a simple matter of pushing Ryusei away, then why had Kengo looked so uncomfortable? He must not have wanted Ryusei to know, Ryusei reasoned. But— But why then, had he been calling Ryusei by name in the first place...?

He turned. "You can call me that if you want," he said carefully.

"Sakuta..." Was starting out like that really the best way to go? It felt so informal with the way Ryusei kept addressing him and especially since the conversation right now was geared towards Kengo calling him anything but that. Biting at his lip, Kengo continued to stare down at the floor. There really was no point in avoiding it anymore, was there? Maybe...

"Ryusei..." He tried again. The name still felt strange in his mouth. What was the real reason that he avoided it so much? Keeping distance between them, maybe, but Kengo knew how much he cared about the other even if he didn't want to admit it to anyone, including himself. He'd never stopped to think about why it bothered him. Maybe it was just because it was so unfamiliar.

There had to be more he could say. Something... Kengo struggled to think of words he could speak that would make the situation better, but something like that had never been a strong point for him.

"Don't leave, yet..." At the very least, Kengo could stall him for another minute, right?

Kengo was prioritizing Ryusei over Switch repair? There had to be a reason Kengo wanted Ryusei to stay. Something to tell him, instructions about how to adjust the Switch, maybe. Maybe he wanted another drink and felt awkward about sending Ryusei out again for it.

Probably not. But Kengo had said his name, without attaching any conditions or caveats to it. But on the other hand, there were many and myriad reasons someone would ask someone to stay. When there was work to be done that both of them took seriously. When one of them was being slightly, in the other's estimation, cagey about looking at him. For some reason.

"Is there something you need?" He stepped back to the bedside. There was no Horuwankov on the floor to trip him this time, but he put his arms on the bed and leaned into Kengo's space anyway. Way too close, he thought, even as he was doing it, but before he could change his mind, he moved his arms to hold Kengo's shoulders, and seated himself on the bed when his weight shifted awkwardly from the movement.

Kengo had opened his mouth to respond again, but Ryusei's sudden close proximity seemed to stop his thought process completely. He merely stared at the other, finally looking at him again. Kengo shut his mouth again, pressing his lips together as his eyes searched Ryusei's face for any sign of exactly what the other was up to without having to directly ask him. His eyes widened a bit as Ryusei leaned in, Kengo's hands going up to grasp Ryusei's wrists without thinking about it. Though Kengo was moving as though to pull him in, he'd pressed his back more against the wall, squirming a bit again. It really seemed as though he couldn't keep his attention off of Ryusei now.

There had to be some sort of response he could give. Something -- but nothing came to mind. There was nothing on his mind at this point, except for making sure that he continued to hold Ryusei where he was while he struggled to think of something.

"I don't know..." It was the only response Kengo could come up with, hoping it would be enough to keep Ryusei there.

Ryusei didn't know either. He didn't know if Kengo's grip was there to shove Ryusei away if he got any closer. But Kengo wasn't shoving.

Ryusei had leaned in almost close enough for their foreheads to touch before the panic overwhelmed him. The thoughts he'd been trying to shove away took over; Kengo was sitting in a bed in the infirmary, after nearly collapsing earlier; Kengo had nearly collapsed earlier; Ryusei was sitting on a bed in the infirmary, leaning closer to someone whose cause of illness was unknown; Ryusei was going to do something he'd regret for a long, long time if Kengo really had been trying to stop him; Ryusei was going to do something he'd regret. His vision was starting to shatter. His breathing suddenly became short, quick, choking.

He turned away, yanking his hands back.

Kengo had tightened his hold on Ryusei's wrists, digging his fingers into the other's skin as he'd expected for the space to close between them. While part of him knew exactly what the other was attempting to do, the weight of the situation hadn't quite sunk in with him yet. All Kengo could think about was how intent he was on the other going through with it--

But Ryusei had stopped. Not only had Ryusei stopped, but he'd pulled away, clearly panicked, his wrists pulled from Kengo's hold. Immediately, Kengo had reached out after him, wrapping his fingers around one of Ryusei's wrists again. There was only one thought going through his head -- the worry that Ryusei would get up and leave again, just as he always did. Nothing would ever change. Things would always remain as uncomfortable as they always were.

While Kengo knew he should have been thinking about the long term consequences, the tight, nervous feeling in his chest had him thinking only about how worried he was for Ryusei. Twisting his arm a bit to pull Ryusei back in against him, Kengo tilted his head to the side and leaned up to close the space between them. If he would regret anything later, or cause any sort of damage... he would deal with it then.

His other arm reflexively came up to grab Kengo's arm. Instead of pushing Kengo away, after a moment, his fingers curled tightly until he wasn't holding anything more than Kengo's shirt, just a fist with fabric in the way. All the tension focused into his hands; his jaw relaxed despite himself even though he knew he shouldn't; he should pull away immediately and explain himself—

He couldn't move, because Kengo was holding him, and because it wasn't just Ryusei who needed to explain.

But because they were still on an infirmary bed and because he was sure Kengo didn't want to feel what a non-rebreather mask felt like, Ryusei turned his head to the side, leaning back so he wouldn't hit his head or hit Kengo's head. He forced himself to take several deep breaths before he could speak. "I-I'm sorry."

Kengo had settled for grabbing at Ryusei's other arm while he kissed him, though it certainly wasn't as strong as the touch he'd used to initially pull him in. It was only enough to keep one more connection point going between them. The kiss itself was as clumsy as Kengo would have expected, considering his complete and utter lack of experience in anything even remotely resembling their current situation. Despite that, it also felt as nice as he had hoped -- though he wasn't sure if that was just because he was relieved to have it out of the way.

When Ryusei pulled back, Kengo easily let him, knowing the other was probably still suffering from some residual panic. However, Kengo was intent on not letting go of him. If they'd gotten this far, there wasn't much that could be done about ignoring it, so Kengo kept his hands on Ryusei's arms. He looked up at the other boy again, though Kengo couldn't help but occasionally glance away from the embarrassed feeling that was now sinking in. His face was flushed red, his lips pursed together almost as though he was resisting the urge to pout.

"Don't apologize... I was the one who did it." Kengo was surprised he had managed to say even that many words, with as much as he felt his body was shaking.

If they'd been anyplace else— If they hadn't been in the infirmary, maybe this would have worked, Ryusei thought blurrily, staring at the some point on the edge of the bed as he forced his breathing back to normal. Eventually, the static disappeared from his vision, and Ryusei was able to look up, and stare.

Kengo hadn't let go. Ryusei released his grip on Kengo's shirt, carefully tucking his arm by his side so as not to accidentally graze Kengo's body anywhere.

That's right, Kengo was the one who did it. Ryusei couldn't help but feel, though, that he'd started it, and he was the one who hadn't been able to go through with it. If they'd been anyplace else....

Force the panic down. Focus— Focus on Kengo's face. Ryusei moved the arm that Kengo held, put it on the wall by Kengo's waist. He leaned in again, clutching the bedcovers, and perhaps it was because he was guarding against it this time that Ryusei was able to keep the panic to a low simmer and his lips could make it all the way to Kengo.

calmer weather | kengo utahoshi and ryusei sakuta

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