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The Itoshi family’s house was quiet, tucked away from the noise of the city. It wasn’t grand or overly decorated, but it had a certain elegance, with its clean lines and muted tones.
The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a TV illuminating the space. The faint sound of rain tapping against the windows added to the stillness, as if the world outside didn’t matter.
Rin sat on the floor in front of the couch, a controller in his hands and his back against the soft cushions. His green eyes were fixed on the screen, his movements precise and deliberate as he maneuvered through the game. The only sound was the occasional click of buttons and the muffled hum of the game’s background music.
Hiori leaned against the armrest of the couch, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. The steam rose lazily, curling around his face as he watched Rin. He hadn’t planned on staying this long when Rin had invited him over if "invited" was even the right word for Rin’s abrupt
“Come with me after practice.” But something about the quiet, about the way Rin didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, made it hard for Hiori to leave.
“You’re staring,” Rin said suddenly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Hiori blinked, startled. “Sorry,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just… you look different when you’re like this.”
Rin’s fingers paused on the controller for a split second before he resumed playing. “Like what?” he asked, his voice even.
“Relaxed,” Hiori said, echoing the thought that had been swirling in his mind. “You’re always so tense on the field, like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders. But here, you look…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Free.”
Rin didn’t respond immediately, his focus seemingly on the game. But Hiori noticed the faint shift in his expression, the way his sharp features softened just slightly.
“And you?” Rin asked after a moment, his tone quieter now. “Why are you always so quiet? Like you’re trying to disappear.”
Hiori’s grip on the coffee cup tightened slightly, his gaze dropping to the swirling liquid inside.
“Maybe I’m just used to it,” he said softly. “It’s easier that way. When no one expects anything from you, no one’s disappointed when you fail.”
Rin’s jaw tightened, and he set the controller down on the floor. The game music continued to hum in the background, but neither of them seemed to notice. Rin turned to face Hiori fully, his green eyes sharp and piercing.
“That’s stupid,” Rin said bluntly.
Hiori blinked, startled by the sudden intensity in Rin’s voice. “What—”
“You’re better than that,” Rin interrupted, his voice steady but low, like he was sharing a secret. “Stop letting other people decide who you are.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain outside grew heavier, the sound of it filling the room. Hiori looked up, meeting Rin’s gaze. There was something raw there, something unguarded that took his breath away.
“Maybe you should take your own advice,” Hiori said quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips despite the tightness in his chest.
Rin stared at him for a moment before his lips twitched, almost like he was about to smile but stopped himself. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against Hiori’s wrist before settling there. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Hiori’s heart skip a beat.
“You’re annoying,” Rin said, his voice softer now, his hand lingering.
“And yet, you’re still here,” Hiori murmured, the warmth in his tone matching the warmth spreading through his chest.
“ Yeah, I love being here, with you ”
Hiori’s heart was beating faster now, but not out of nervousness—more from the weight of the unspoken things hanging between them.
Rin’s hand was still resting against his wrist, a delicate connection that felt like it carried more meaning than anything they had said out loud. Hiori’s breath caught when Rin’s fingers slowly traced the back of his hand, almost imperceptible, like a soft question.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The space between them seemed to stretch out, thick with tension—but not the kind that made Hiori uncomfortable. It wasn’t like the heat of competition, the rush of an intense match, or the weight of unspoken rivalry. This was something different.
Rin wasn’t speaking, but Hiori could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way it lingered on him like he was trying to read him, trying to understand him in a way that no one had.
The quiet in the room was no longer just silence, it was full of the things they didn’t need to say. Hiori was starting to understand that with Rin, he didn’t need words to communicate. Their connection was something more visceral, more instinctual.
Hiori lifted his gaze slowly, meeting Rin’s eyes. For a long beat, neither of them spoke. But in that moment, Hiori felt like he had known Rin his whole life, felt like every quiet touch, every glance, had been building up to this one instance. And somehow, without a single word exchanged, they understood each other completely.
Rin’s fingers slid from Hiori’s wrist to his hand, the touch gentle but firm, a silent request that felt like an invitation. Hiori didn’t hesitate. He turned his hand in Rin’s, their fingers intertwining easily. The softness of their touch contrasted with the electric current that seemed to pulse between them.
Hiori’s breath faltered, his pulse thudding in his ears. Rin was close closer than they had been before. The space between them felt both impossibly small and impossibly large at the same time, as if it could collapse in on itself at any moment. And then, without another thought, Rin leaned forward, his lips brushing lightly against Hiori’s forehead.
The softness of the kiss sent a warmth flooding through Hiori, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt at peace. Not the peace of silence, but the peace of being seen, of being understood.
The kiss lingered there, soft, sweet, like it didn’t need to be anything more. Rin pulled back slowly, just enough to look Hiori in the eyes, his green eyes softer now, almost searching. Hiori could see the uncertainty there, the vulnerability Rin rarely showed anyone. And yet, there was also a strength, a quiet, unspoken promise.
And then, Hiori did something he hadn’t planned on doing. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed Rin.
It wasn’t a rush. There was no frantic desperation, no need to prove anything. It was gentle, like the quiet they shared, a kiss that felt like an extension of everything they hadn’t said.
Hiori’s hand moved from Rin’s wrist to his cheek, his fingers trembling slightly as he cupped Rin’s face.
Rin responded with a softness that surprised Hiori. His hand found its way to the back of Hiori’s neck, pulling him closer, but not with urgency just a quiet, steady pull that deepened their kiss.
They didn’t need to speak. They didn’t need to explain what this was. Every movement, every kiss, every shared breath told them everything they needed to know.
Rin’s lips were warm, soft, and Hiori felt something inside him settle, a tension he hadn’t known he was carrying slowly unwinding.
When they finally pulled apart, the world outside the room seemed to fade away. There was only the two of them—their breaths mingling, their hands still entwined. The quiet between them felt full now, full of everything that had been said and everything that had been left unsaid.
Hiori rested his forehead against Rin’s, his thumb lightly brushing across Rin’s hand. They didn’t need to speak to understand.
“My heart is going to explode…” Hiori started, his voice soft, a little unsteady. He wasn’t sure how to put into words what he was feeling.
“Mine too,” Rin whispered, his voice low and rough, but there was something in it that made Hiori’s heart skip. “But for the first time, it doesn't bother me”
The soft warmth of each other’s presence, and the quiet connection that was growing stronger with every passing moment.
It was them. Hiori and Rin