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Rantaro likes to think that he’s pretty good at noticing when other people have secrets. He’s not omniscient, or anything like that-- and of course there are exceptions to this, like Ouma, for example, who he can’t see through at all-- but for the most part, if one of his classmates is hiding something, he can kind of tell. According to Kaede, he has a naturally disarming countenance that makes people feel more comfortable with confiding in him. And like, he’s not sure about that. That sounds like giving him undue credit, frankly. But still, he’s kind of got an eye for it.
It’s probably because he hides so much, himself. Not that it’s something that he’s conscious of doing all the time, but to be as secretive as Rantaro is there’s got to be at least some degree of self-awareness. He automatically keeps things to himself, but there are other things, like physical injuries, or maybe a more shitty trip to another country, that he has to put in a more conscious effort for. And since it’s a conscious effort, he tends to notice it when other people do the same. People act a certain way when they’re trying to hide something. Especially the more argumentative types. Kaito, for example. Usually when he’s feeling upset he won’t pick as many fights with Kokichi. It’s called a tell, sort of. It varies from person to person for sure. At least Kaito knows, on some level, how to take things in moderation to avoid making himself feel worse. Doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s shit at reaching out to people, but like, it’s a start.
(Rantaro definitely isn’t one to talk in that area, though, so he’s just going to move on.)
All that being said, Rantaro is trying not to jump to conclusions this time. Usually, if he thinks that there’s a chance one of his classmates is injured, or feeling somehow under the weather, he’d confront them right away. He has to be a bit more careful in some cases, though, especially with the more flighty members of his class, because being heavy-handed can often result in escalating the situation, and that’s like, not ideal. He’s not worried about that with Shuichi. Shuichi isn’t flighty. What’s worrying him about this is that he’s not sure if he’s correct, because it doesn’t seem like anybody else has noticed.
Admittedly, it’s been a bunch of little things. The way Shuichi froze, for a brief moment, when Kaito clapped him on the back this morning as he walked into class. Whatever emotion flickered in his eyes was there so briefly Rantaro wasn’t entirely sure he saw it to begin with. Not to mention that Shuichi was late to class, which rarely happens-- usually if he’s late he’ll just end up missing the full day, which isn’t a healthy choice but it’s something that Shuichi does consistently-- and every time someone spoke to him, there was a short pause before he responded, as though he was disoriented.
It could just be, like, a lack of sleep, but Shuichi seems fully awake. His movements are slow, but it reads more to Rantaro as hesitation than real sluggishness. It’s the tentative dance of someone who’s wary of revealing that they’re in pain. If Rantaro could pinpoint the problem area, he’d be more certain, but it’s difficult to tell with the way that Shuichi’s been carrying himself. He’s a naturally quiet person, so his friends don’t appear to be all that concerned with it-- Maki might, if she was here, but she’s off on an assignment (the nature of which Rantaro has no idea) and Kokichi is perceptive enough to pick up on it too, but he and Kiibo got into a fight recently so he’s probably been preoccupied with that to the point of total unawareness of his surroundings. At least, that’s what Rantaro’s been assuming, because he slept through morning classes.
(He should check on Kokichi later, after this all blows over. Fights happen, in relationships, but they’re still rough and it’s nice to have someone to talk to.)
The thing is, Rantaro would have no problem walking up to Shuichi and asking what’s wrong, except that they’re not all that close. They’re on good terms, but like, if Rantaro was to list his top five closest friends in his class, Shuichi wouldn’t make the list-- and it’s probably the other way around, come to think of it. Not for lack of desire, at least on Rantaro’s part, because Shuichi is thoughtful and kind and he has lovely smiles and the times that they’ve spoken he’s somehow toed the line between polite and shockingly hilarious-- it’s just never been something that Rantaro’s gotten around to, because he travels so much and because Shuichi’s always surrounded by his friends.
Still, it seems… important. Especially about halfway through lunch, after watching Shuichi wince as he took his spot next to Kaito at the table. Rantaro know how it feels being in that position, swallowing back huffs of pain every time he moves and smiling when people talk to him even though everything hurts, and the tightness in his chest feels stronger than sympathy every time he catches that distant, pained look crossing Shuichi’s features. He’s more expressive than he must think that he is-- or maybe he just thinks that nobody is watching.
Rantaro’s tentative game-plan, to catch Shuichi on his way out of the dining hall, works out just fine. He finishes eating early (not that he served himself a lot to begin with, since he’s been pretty consumed with worry all morning) and is ready to make his way over by the time lunch ends. He’s at a point of friendship with both Kaede and Kaito that when he drifts over to them, they don’t raise any questions. Shuichi’s eyebrows quirk just the slightest bit when Rantaro rests a (gentle) hand on his shoulder.
“Can I talk to you in private for a minute, Saihara?” he tries to keep his voice low, though he’s decently certain that Kaede overhears him. The look she shoots his way is mischievous and he rolls his eyes, shrugging her off.
“Ah, uhm, okay,” Shuichi nods, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. He looks over at Kaede. “Akamatsu, I’ll meet you in the classroom, so…”
Kaede beams and says, “No problem!” before grabbing Kaito’s arm and tugging him to walk faster. Kaito protests, loudly, but goes along with it-- something that he does pretty automatically, as far as Kaede is concerned. Rantaro feels a rush of appreciation towards them. He really doesn’t want to out Shuichi’s possible injury in front of a lot of people.
Gently, Rantaro places a hand on Shuichi’s lower back (which doesn’t bring on any particularly pained responses, thankfully) to guide him over to an empty place in the hall. They end up standing in (somewhat?) awkward silence for a few moments, waiting for the sounds of conversation and shuffling as people head to afternoon classes to fade away before Rantaro speaks. Shuichi seems a bit nervous, though not necessarily uncomfortable, which is good. From the look on his face, it’s possible he’s already guessed what Rantaro wants to talk to him about. Shuichi isn’t nearly confrontational enough to just get it out of the way immediately, though, so when real silence settles over the hall, Rantaro breaks it.
“You doing okay?” he asks. He’d rather cut to the chase, but it doesn’t feel tactful, with Shuichi.
It’s difficult to decipher his expression. Shuichi tilts his head to the side, as though considering the question. “Uhm, I’m fine,” he hums eventually. Rantaro fights against the wry smile that pulls at his lips upon hearing it, reminding himself that his response would probably be something similar, and waits for Shuichi to continue. “Wh-Why do you ask?”
“I noticed you wincing when you sat down earlier,” Rantaro says quietly, figuring he’d better just be direct. “And you’ve been moving carefully all day-- I was wondering if you’re doing fine, like, physically. Sorry if this is a weird question,” he adds, allowing half a smile to spread his lips, “I just wanted to check in.”
Shuichi hesitates. His grey eyes are averted, fixed on the wall opposite them. It’s easier to tell what’s running through his head now, but Rantaro doesn’t put any particular effort into it. Shuichi will probably say something that’ll serve as a good indicator in a moment. “It’s, uhm, not a big deal,” he replies after a while, and his voice is wobbly but controlled, as though he’s fighting to keep it even. “Just, ran into some trouble with a murder suspect last night-- though, I suppose he’s kind of, more than a suspect, by now,” Shuichi laughs a bit.
“Some trouble with a murder suspect?” Rantaro guesses that Shuichi is being intentionally vague about this to downplay what happened, but that’s not going to be any good if he wants to help. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” Shuichi says quickly.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Ah,” Shuichi reaches up to rub the back of his neck, closing one of his eyes. It’s not a wink; more of an expression of his stress. Rantaro feels guilty for stressing him out, but at the same time, this isn’t something that he can just brush to the side. (If he was in Shuichi’s position, he’d probably have run off and booked a flight somewhere by now-- so he can appreciate that Shuichi is, at least, stronger than he is when it comes to confrontations.) “I-It really-- isn’t a big deal, I just--”
“Have you gotten it looked at? By a doctor?” Rantaro frowns, and Shuichi’s hand drifts to the top of his hand, fingers tangling in his hair. Rantaro wonders if he’s wishing for his hat. “Saihara, I’m sorry to be so intense, it’s just that--”
“I understand,” Shuichi cuts him off in a small voice. “I didn’t want my uncle to be worried-- he didn’t want to put me on the case to begin with because he felt that the culprit was too dangerous for me to be dealing with but he’s been so overloaded recently I convinced him to let me handle it-- and it wasn’t difficult, I just had poor judgement and went to confront the suspect by myself-- I didn’t think he’d have a knife on hand, and it wasn’t even a very deep wound so I’m trying not to worry about it but--”
“You got stabbed?”
“I’m sorry,” Shuichi says immediately, instinctively, then huffs out a laugh a moment later, as though sensing that this is perhaps not a situation where he’s expected to apologise. “Don’t-- You look so worried, Amami,” and as though to punctuate the statement, Shuichi reaches up to touch Rantaro’s face with a hand, thumb brushing over the wrinkles between his brows. Rantaro tries not to sigh, lifting a hand to rest on the back of Shuichi’s.
“Your uncle is going to want to know,” he points out. Shuichi bites his lip, but nods, and then opens his mouth to speak. Loath as he is to interrupt anybody, especially Shuichi, who seems to have a difficult enough time speaking to begin with, Rantaro continues on. “Will you let me take you to the nurse? I think if it’s a stab wound you should see an actual doctor, but Tsumiki-- the third year Ultimate Nurse, she helps out in the nurse’s office during afternoon classes--” which Rantao knows from personal experience, but nevermind that, “--can probably help you sort it out. She’s good.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble for anybody,” Shuichi murmurs, and Rantaro huffs.
“You’re not causing trouble by seeking medical attention,” he replies, a bit more sternly than he means to, and when he sees Shuichi’s abashed, unconvinced expression, he softens and adds, “You’re not causing trouble by asking for what you need. I think there are plenty of people who would be happy to take care of you, Saihara.”
“Do you think that of yourself?” Shuichi asks, tilting his head to the side. “You usually tough out your own injuries, right?”
“I--” Rantaro swallows; he hadn’t realised Shuichi was aware of any of that stuff. “My bad habits shouldn’t set an example for yours.”
“Mm,” Shuichi smiles slightly, and leans forward, resting his forehead against Rantaro’s shoulder. The close proximity takes Rantaro off guard, although in retrospect Shuichi is probably only acting this way because of the pain. Who knows what kind of shabby bandaging situation he has going on underneath his uniform. “It’s kind of a double standard, isn’t it? Maybe you should take your own advice,” and more quietly, he adds, “You smell really nice.”
“Oookay, time for the infirmary,” Rantaro decides, chuckling, but as he slips an arm underneath Shuichi’s legs to pick him up, he finds that he can’t really deny the truth in Shuichi’s words. “How much blood have you lost?”
“I mean, I haven’t been counting pints,” Shuichi mumbles, tucking his arms around Rantaro’s neck. “Ah-- that really hurt,” he hisses, bending his legs as though to curl into fetal position.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rantaro adjusts his hold on Shuichi in an attempt to stop him from being jostled so roughly.
“It wasn’t you, it’s okay,” Shuichi shakes his head, eyelashes fluttering. Now that he’s not supporting his own weight, it seems as though Shuichi is drifting off a bit. “It was really scary-- yesterday, I mean, he was a lot bigger than me and I’ve never had to deal with that before,” his voice shakes a little. “I guess that’s just what being a detective entails but I don’t know if I’ve ever been so afraid.”
The confession feels somewhat out of the blue, but Rantaro imagines that since Shuichi hasn’t told anyone about the event in question, he’s likely been holding all of these sentiments inside, so as he makes his way towards the infirmary, he remains silent and lets Shuichi talk.
“I thought I was going to die for a moment, but he was being really sloppy and I had a first aid kit on hand-- Kirigiri told me I should always carry one around, I guess she sort of saved my life. I think I did a really bad job bandaging, though, my sheets were covered in blood when I woke up this morning-- not that I slept very much-- and it still really really hurts-- I was trying not to say anything but Kaito hugs me a lot from the side and he’s always so-- ah, I wouldn’t know how to put it, aggressive? It doesn’t bother me usually but--”
Shuichi talks a lot when he’s delirious, huh? Rantaro finds himself tilting his face forward to press a kiss to the top of Shuichi’s head. They’re not all that close but for some reason he feels inclined to do it. It wasn’t his intention, but as Rantaro pulls his lips away, Shuichi falls silent, his breaths a rattling wheeze.
“A-Ah,” his face goes red. “Am I talking too much? I’m sorry, I’m not thinking very clearly right now, I--”
“You’re fine,” Rantaro replies, unable to stop himself from smiling just the slightest bit. (Shuichi is, in the worst of times, extremely cute.) “I don’t mind listening to you talk.”
“Hmm,” Shuichi lays his head back down on Rantaro’s shoulder. “You say those things so casually, it’s embarrassing,” he mutters, closing his eyes. Rantaro raises his eyebrows, but obviously, Shuichi doesn’t see it. “I wish I could be a bit more like you and stop overanalysing everything I hear. Akamatsu says it’s a detective thing but I’m really not sure.”
“I think it’s endearing,” Rantaro offers.
“You would,” Shuichi grumbles with a huff. The indignance slips off his expression, but he doesn’t say anything, and for a moment there’s silence as Rantaro walks the rest of the way to the infirmary. It’s only when they’re standing outside the door, Rantaro contemplating how he’s going to open it, that Shuichi murmurs, “I’d really like to be closer friends with you, Amami. You always seem so closed off but I really… want to know you.”
He’s never had someone say it out loud before. Rantaro looks down at Shuichi, holding his breath, but Shuichi’s eyes are still closed. His breathing is so even, he might as well be unconscious. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispers, more for himself than for Shuichi, and as he opens the infirmary door with his elbow and his shoulder, he doesn’t miss the smile that appears on Shuichi’s face, nor the faint, thank you for doing this, that makes its way out of his mouth.