Work Text:
Saturday, 3/25/20XX, Protein Lovers Gym, Evening …
“C’mon…I-I got this…god…dammit…!”
Ryuji felt like his brain was going to leak out his ears, his teeth capable of turning diamonds to powder from how hard he was clenching them. He didn’t even want to know what ghoulish expression his face was stuck in– if there had been anybody else in the gym, he imagined he would be getting sniggered at while he struggled mightily with the earth shattering thirteen kilogram weight on the leg extension machine. Even the sweat pooling up in his shock of blond hair seemed to have second thoughts about their journey downward, lest they add more weight to the already strained teen.
What had started off as a simple test of strength for his leg had morphed into quite the odyssey. Ryuji had committed to his plan to transfer schools in order to place himself closer to a rehab facility; his mom had picked out a place and they had already mostly packed up. Within the week he would hopefully start at his new school with a fresh start. But with the drive to return to athletics had been the nagging need to see how big a challenge he was facing in getting back into track.
It was bad.
His friends never asked, thankfully, but he still had the occasional heart-pounding nightmare about the violence inflicted onto him by Kamoshida. It had been so fast: he’d made a crack about Ryuji’s parents, and that had been enough to cause the boy to lunge at Kamoshida in a blind rage. The initial catharsis of landing even a glancing blow to that infuriating dimpled chin was soon overridden by desperation as the bigger man quickly locked him in a headlock of sorts. In the second that Ryuji grabbed at his bushy mane to break the hold, Kamoshida struck, stomping down as hard as he could on Ryuji’s femur. The pressure forced his leg to buckle, and the extreme weight on his thigh made it bend in a way it was never supposed to. He would remember the snap of the bone breaking through the frenzied shouting of the track team for the rest of his life, as well as the sneer on Kamoshida’s face as he stood triumphant and proud of what he had done.
Doctors said he was lucky: a clean break, would heal in hopefully seven months with surgery. That all happened quick too; he went from being picked up by emergency responders to being prepped for surgery at the hospital, his mother sitting stone-faced in a chair across from his bed. A few hours later, and the deed was done: a titanium rod and a few screws now helped keep the bone together. It wasn’t cheap, and Ryuji’s mom didn’t exactly have a lot of money to throw around to begin with. Of course she made it work, but physical therapy afterwards was tough, considering he’d need to take a train to and from a therapy center on his own while his mom was working, and they were stretched pretty thin from the surgery. He listened to the doctor’s advice on what he could do from home instead, and although it was extremely painful at first, he was off crutches in a couple of months and walking, doing his everyday routine with adjustments.
Although it was kind of cool to him that he had something metal in him that was sturdier than bone, almost like some sort of manga hero, the reality was it ached something fierce. Not just his knee and thigh, but his hip, too; he felt like an old man the way he’d wince and clutch at it after he spent too much time bending over or sitting. He had to learn all new ways to sit down that didn’t aggravate him, and stairs became a massive pain in the ass. Even after a year he wasn’t quite sure he was back to 100%. Running in short bursts was okay, but any longer and that ache would come back really strong and infect his mind. How he managed to run up a whole boat in Shido’s palace without falling was nothing short of a miracle, but he always thought he had more guts than brains anyhow.
Keeping the severity of it from his friends was key – he figured he was already a social burden and he wanted to avoid being a physical one too. Lingering moments of rest and stretching in safe rooms helped, but inevitably he ended up sucking back a lot of pain through gritted teeth. Unsurprisingly, Ren, the team leader and his best pal, figured it out one day, cornering him to inquire if he was truly holding up okay. Ryuji laughed it off with the bluster of Skull, although he was both deeply touched that Ren cared about him like that and embarrassed that it was getting so obvious. That conversation had been a pivotal moment in getting him in the mindset of fixing himself and getting back to track, where he belonged.
Provided, of course, he could lift the weight.
All he had to do was straighten his leg out. Surely all the sprinting and fighting he did as a Phantom Thief had to have been more strenuous! Again and again he watched the foam-padded bar he was tasked with lifting reach about the midway point and sink down, a large –tink- from the preset weights clanging in his ears. He muttered a few curses, looking around to see if anyone was watching; at that time of day it was usually just a few stragglers and the deadbeat owner, who pretty much snoozed on the counter most of the day. Ryuji was amazed nothing got stolen – what kind of lazy ass would trust people in a gym in Shibuya to not steal shit, he thought. Still, he was somewhat glad that the place was pretty much empty, although he could see the walled off room on the far side was being used by someone. The window to the room was on the opposite side, so he was in the clear there as well. One more try.
His lungs and chest expanded greatly as they absorbed gusts of wind so great he was sure he’d be spitting them out like Morgana’s Persona at the end. Holding it in for just a second, Ryuji released and pushed with every ounce of strength he had, feeling every bit of the strain as the bar went up, up, up…peak! He did it! He would have started crying if tears hadn’t already surged to his eyes from the effort of lifting the small amount of weights. His laugh of triumph was decapitated by a hiss of pain as his leg immediately started to cramp up. “Shiiiittt shitshitshit…”
The stack of weights came crashing down again as he quickly hopped to his feet and grabbed the side of the machine for support, groaning as the pain came in waves. Screams of anguish were starting to swell too, but a quick insert of his fist into his mouth did an okay job muffling those. It had occurred to him how silly this was to do without someone else, especially since he could really hurt himself, but Ryuji had his rotten, stubborn pride. He couldn’t imagine going to, say, Yusuke and asking the tall goof to stand there while he tried to lift baby weights up. The day Yusuke saw the inside of a gym was the day Morgana got to be with Ann: it wasn’t happening.
After a few minutes the pain started to subside, at least enough to let go of the machine and shift his weight over to his left leg as the air conditioner showered his body with cold blasts. Any lingering sweat on his face was taken care of with a few quick wipes from his teal sleeveless shirt, as well as the tears. He was feeling a bit lightheaded, which was common whenever he strained himself this much. The beige walls of the gym stared back at him silently, as if they had absorbed years of agony that blighted out any color. If the guy drooling into his magazine was who decorated the place, he had real shit taste, in Ryuji’s opinion; the checkered red carpet compared to the brown paneling and grey title was so garish it could be Yusuke’s next masterpiece. It may have been a little crappy, but it was on the same line as Shujin and didn’t require a membership. If he was going to pass out and die anywhere, this probably wasn’t the worst place.
Luckily, the gym wasn’t fated to be his tomb. After a couple minutes of gently stretching out his leg and taking a lot of deep breaths, the worst of the pain subsided. He could handle the dull ache that replaced it so long as he was careful and payed attention to where he was walking. Embarrassing as it was, uneven sidewalk or even a slight misstep on a curb could set off a comedy of errors in the fragile bone. He wiped down the machine with his towel and quietly set out towards the door, partially blinded by the glowing orange wink of the sun as it took its victory lap. He took in a breath of fresh air and was about to exit the alley outside the gym entrance when a voice called out.
“Sakamaoto-senpai?”
Sugary sweet voice, dignified cadence, and calling him “senpai?” Could only be…
“U-uh…Sumire?”
Sure enough, he carefully shuffled around to see Sumire Yoshizawa standing near the door, hand still on the inside rail. She was wearing a black and yellow-striped athletic jacket over a basic black turtleneck and leggings, her hair chocolate red and pristinely bouncy, with little curls in a familiar ponytail, now pulled back with a simple blue hair tie instead of a cute red ribbon. Seeing as she was walking out of the gym, he wondered if she had been the one in the private room. If that was the case he now felt like a slob – here he was, death warmed over, while she looked she was about to go out for the first time that day. He quickly wiped his face free of any excess sweat and jutted his hands into the pockets of his blue rolled up sweatpants, not wanting to meet her ruby-colored eyes.
“W-what’re ya –“
“Did you just –“
Both stopped short to wait for the other to finish. Ryuji was hoping his face was red from exertion. “G-go ‘head, you were sayin’?”
“Oh! My apologies. I was asking if you just got done using the gym as well?”
Welp, that settled it. “Y-yeah, yep, I did…Uh, were you practicin’ gymnastics in there?”
He looked over to see her shake her head, ponytail dancing in the spring evening. “Not quite. That was earlier today…I actually came here to do some boxercising.”
Ryuji squinted in confusion. “Boxer…Huh? W-wuzzat?”
“You’ve never heard of it?” Sumire asked, taking a few steps closer to him. “It’s kind of like aerobics, but with a focus on boxing. You should try it! It’ll wear you out, but you’ll get better balance and good cardio exercise.”
Great, so she did two full workouts in a day. He wasn’t sure he could feel more inferior. “For real? Wow, th-that’s, uh…A-ain’t you tired?”
“Oh, I know,” she rolled her eyes playfully, eyebrows disappearing underneath her bangs, “My coach tells me I should take it easy on myself, as well. But being in the gym, training, exercising, it’s all a great stress relief to me!” Oh yeah, no big deal, Ryuji thought, just an omega athlete. It wasn’t a competition, but that sure didn’t help his mood.
“…For you, too?”
“Hmm? Uh, w-what was that?” He snapped out of his mind to see Sumire had gotten even closer, a question in her eyes.
“I was asking if you got stress relief from exercise, too. Ren-senpai told me that you’re an athlete!”
Ren. Freakin’ Ren. Sumire was a new-ish addition to their friend circle, really only involving herself after she intervened in the Phantom Thieves infiltration of Sae Niijima’s palace back in November. She was an extremely nice person and he liked her and had fought side-by-side with her in the Metaverse, but Ryuji didn’t really know her too well outside of what Ren had told him. The two seemed to have known each other going back to when Ren first arrived in Tokyo, and until a chance meetup in Hawaii he never introduced her to everyone else. Much like the rest of the Phantom Thieves, Sumire had her own share of troubles, but she always did her best to stay optimistic and happy. These were admirable traits when he wasn’t in pain and aching to get home and suffer in private.
Still, he was happy that Ren would gas him up to her, as presently annoying as it was. “Pfft, I’unno, I ain’t on your level ‘r nothin’,” he played it cool, not really wanting to draw attention to it, “But I did used to do sports clubs. Now I just try to keep in shape ‘n stuff…” His voice slowed to a mumble as he tried to work out another excuse. “Y-y’know, ‘cuz of bein’ a Phantom Thief ‘n all…” He felt a heavy sigh drudge up from deep within. With Ren gone and the Metaverse disappeared forever, there was no more Phantom Thieves. It wasn’t even a good excuse, but now it held even less water. Still, Sumire’s smile remained.
“Now that I remember, you did always have lots of energy, even after all that running around we did. You must have great stamina! I’d say…Soccer?”
This game of twenty questions was only going to get worse the longer he stayed. “S-somethin’ like that. Look, it was cool chattin’ and all, but, uh…I gotta, y’know, gotta get goin’. Don’t wanna miss last train.” Last train was two hours away, but he figured it might communicate urgency, even if it was only to get out of the awkward situation.
Sumire readjusted the Shujin duffle bag hanging from her shoulder, her face brightening up again. He knew she was capable of being sad, but she had a hell of a sunny disposition. “Oh, right! I need to do the same, or else my Dad will worry. Would you mind if we walked together?”
Dammit. “Uh, well, I-I think we take different lines, so-uhhhh-ooo maybe I should get a move o-on…” As he was talking a lightning strike convulsed up his knee and into his hip. He clenched his teeth into a tight smile when his voice wavered and subtly elevated his right leg, relieving himself a bit.
“Hmm?” Sumire’s smile shrunk into a pink dot on her face. Did he upset her? “Senpai…Is something wrong with your leg?” Her eyes drifted toward his right leg, the toe of his sneaker barely scraping the ground. Crap; she was sharp.
“It ain’t a b-big deal or nothin’, don’t worry about it. Jus’ got a cramp.” His denial didn’t seem to faze the younger girl.
“Are you sure? It doesn’t look like you’re putting much weight on it…”
It would be rude to ask her to stop caring, but he was starting to get a little frustrated. Couldn’t she just leave it be? “Of course I’m sure. Just gotta walk it off…”
He tried to take a few steps away from her to make his point when his knee stiffened up, causing him to lose his balance. He felt his body jerking forward, but grabbing a conveniently placed garbage bin saved him from going ass over tea kettle. The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the shame burning his ears as he heard Kasumi frantically run up.
“Sakamoto-senpai, here!” Within a second she was already attempting to lug his arm over her shoulder, presumably to help carry him. His bad mood had graduated to full-fledged anger as he aggressively pushed her arms away.
“Back off!” Sumire’s already big eyes turned UFO size, her hands up in a show of compliance. Already he felt awful, as if he’d swatted at an innocent, non-Morgana kitten.
“I-I’m so sorry!” she gushed, ever so polite despite her clear fear, “I was only trying to help –“
“I don’t need yer frickin’ help!” He seethed, trying to speak past his teeth. He tried to take it easy and understand she had the best intentions, but it was hurting so bad and she wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Why don’tcha find an old lady you can help across the street ‘r somethin’ ‘n leave me alone!?”
They were sandwiched between the heavy Shibuya traffic and the bustling marketplace, so the familiar buzz of the city helped fill drown out the awkward silence his and his own self-loathing. He knew if he looked back at Sumire, with her little doe-eyed face, he might start blubbering, so he did his best to soldier on and get back up to a standing position. There was always time for an apology later.
No sooner did he get up to his feet than a pair of fierce red eyes suddenly invaded his field of vision. “O-oh no you don’t! You won’t get rid of me that easily!” The squeak in Sumire’s voice gave away her consternation, a kid trying to be an adult.
What was she trying to pull? And where did this attitude come from? “Listen Sumire, this is the last time I’m gonna tell you, just leave it –“
“I can’t!” She interrupted louder than he expected, “Ren-senpai…H-he told me…To look out for you all whenever I could, so I…” Her tough face faded, eyes welling up as she dredged up some clearly painful memory. It was very in-character for Ren to inspire the people around him to act more like him. Ryuji wouldn’t have even hurt his self in the first place if he wasn’t encouraged by his friendship with Ren to try and get back into track. As frustrated and upset as he was, how could he blame Sumire for trying to be a good friend, to someone who she didn’t even know that well?
Soon he felt his own eyes watering, wondering if this was how he would have acted if it was Ren offering his help instead. “S-Sumire I…C-can we just get outta here?”
She only answered with a stern nod. Ryuji began limping along as best he could into the crowded Shibuya street, Sumire right next to him, offering polite nods and apologies as she helped clear a path through the stream of people.
“I…I see…”
“-Hrrkk- Yeah.”
“I can’t believe the school let him get away with that…”
“…”
The station square was as full as ever as Ryuji stood with Sumire and spilled his guts about everything. Track, Kamoshida, the surgery, and now his upcoming move. His leg wasn’t hurting quite as much, but he still leaned against the wall behind him to help take some weight off. They were near the train station entrance at the Station Square, the masses walking to and fro past them, uninterested or too busy playing with their phone to notice the two of them having their conversation. For her part, Sumire listened, only interjecting with apologies and gasps. He was just happy he didn’t start crying or something; it was bad enough that they were in public, but he also had no intention of losing it in front of Sumire. She didn't need another reason to think he was a weirdo.
Sumire stared at the ground for a while before looking back toward him, grasping her forearm. “If you do the physical therapy, you’ll be able to run again someday, right?”
Good question. He didn’t see the point in hiding how he felt. “I-I know it’s possible, especially since the reviews I saw on this place talked about how good their trainers are, but some days can’t help but think I’ll be stuck with this bum leg forever. Like I gotta fight my own body all the time.” An overreaction, maybe, but he couldn’t help it. In some ways, he thought not being able to participate in track, something he had spent so much time on and had a passion for, meant Kamoshida still had one on him. That bastard was probably going to be locked up for a long time, and the Phantom Thieves had made sure he’d be plagued with the guilt until he was six feet under, but it still didn’t seem like they were square yet. As long as he couldn’t do what Kamoshida took from him, Kamoshida was winning.
“I…” Sumire sighed, standing up tall and turning to face Ryuji. “It’s not exactly the same, but when I was - When I thought was Kasumi, it got in the way of my ability, too. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I trained, my body just couldn’t do what my brain knew I was capable of. Everyone noticed, but there was no way they could have known what the problem was. I felt like I lost a part of me, that I was never going to be what I once was. The school even threatened to take away my honor status. It made me so depressed sometimes…” Her face turned red, as if she had said too much. Even if it was a little too much information, it made him feel better that at least someone could kind of get it. “Whu-what I mean is, erm, when I couldn’t perform to my athletic standards, it ate away at me a lot. Were I to lose my scholarship, what good was I? If it wasn’t for Ren-senpai, I might’ve…”
The way her voice cracked tugged at Ryuji’s heart. This was the first he’d heard about the effect that Maruki’s power had on her, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have been resigned to that fate too had Ren not snapped him out of it. They were all going their separate ways, and he had made peace with that, but he recognized Sumire’s pain. Especially the part about not feeling like she was any good if she couldn’t compete in sports.
He wasn’t totally comfortable that he wouldn’t screw it up, but he figured he should say something nice. “He’s a hell of a friend, huh? You guys seemed really close. Ain’t the same without him around…”
As he put his hands in his pockets and shifted his position a bit, he heard a small sob. Indeed, Sumire was now hurriedly brushing back tears, which stormed her face in spite of her best efforts. “It really isn’t...” she managed to mumble, clearly trying not to lose it completely. Ryuji jolted up from his position, feeling the urge to do something but not knowing what.
“W-woah, h-hey jus’…Relax, okay!? E-everythin’s okay, you don’t gotta…!”
He looked around and noticed that small spot behind the newspaper vendor was empty and away from everyone else, so he urged Sumire to follow him as he limped over to it. She did so quickly, her chest stuttering as she did her best to bite her lip and rub her nose with her sleeve. He really wished Ann was there; she was way better suited to helping someone out if they were crying. Or, better yet, Makoto. He tried his best to shush her and get her to relax until she finally spoke again through tattered breaths.
“I-I’m suh-sorry, senpai, I…Juh-just miss him so much…I want us to be tuh-together…” Shit, you’re getting to me now, Ryuji thought. He was still a little tender from when she first offered to help and could feel himself getting caught up again, but he sucked it up, knowing he had to be the tough one this time.
“’Ey, listen,” he pleaded in a soft voice, “I-it ain’t like he’s gone forever, ya know? We’re all thinkin’ about meetin’ up during summer break! A-and you can still call ‘im and video chat with ‘im and stuff!” It all sounded good to him, but he could tell right away that what he said wasn’t cutting it.
“I-I know, buh-but…” She sniffled a lot, not willing to look him in the eye as she fought to contain any sobs. Clearly there was something else going on…maybe even a little bit deeper than friendship? She did say she wanted them to be “together;” he took that as meaning the whole group but it could have just meant Ren, too. Ryuji didn’t want to touch that with a 9 meter pole. What could he say? The poor girl seemed inconsolable.
“Uh…” He shut his eyes for a second, imagining (ironically) what Ren would do in this kind of situation. Between his leg and the tension he felt to help Sumire, he found it hard to concentrate. Maybe she just needed to talk to someone who’d listen. Ren was great at that! Ryuji might not have been the best person for it, and there was no way he coup whip out the sagely advice Ren had a habit of dispersing, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. If there was one thing he learned from Doc, letting all that build up meant you were doomed to not take action. And Sumire had done him a solid; he already felt a little better about his situation after talking with her. It was possible he could do the same for her.
“Y-y’know, Sumire, if, erm, if you got some shit goin’ on that you need to talk about…I’ll hear ya out. What’s up?”
Her eyes, big like a cow, looked into his, sheepishly. “I…I d-don’t want to burden you, Sakamoto-senpai…Especially when yuh-you’re already in pain and you’ve got your move to think about…” She was going to be considerate and nice even at her own expense. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he was talking to…
Ryuji smiled devilishly, feeling his lizard brain finally cooked up something sharp for once. “Y’know, you remind me of ‘ol Renren sometimes!”
That got her attention, if only for confusion more than anything. “R-Renren…?”
“Yeah!” He smiled wider and folded his hands behind his head, leaning into the vendor stand. “That guy is totally selfless, he’d do anything for ya so long as ya asked nicely! Like you!”
“M-me!?”
“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you coulda just walked away when I yelled at ya at the gym. But you kept persistin, and persistin’, not takin’ no for an answer. I was hella impressed when you got all up in my face like that, too! That wasn’t Sumire talkin’, that was the man, that was Joker!” Her face was red and a little puffy from crying, but he could tell he had her blushing. Time for the home run. “I-I know it really sucks that he ain’t here anymore, and I know textin’ can only go so far, but…I-it’s good to know that at least one of us is learnin’ from his lead. That’s what he asked ya to do, right? That means he trusted you, more than all the rest of us. He musta seen somethin’ real special in you!”
Sumire appeared to chew on that last bit, closing her eyes and putting a hand to her heart. When she opened them again, there wasn’t exactly a spark, but the sadness seemed pushed to the edges. A courteous smile eclipsed her frown. “S-Samakoto-senpai…Th-thank you. That really means a lot…”
He found himself grinning back, turning a little red himself. It felt kind of nice to truly be a good senpai for once, but it made him feel weird and old getting called that so much. “Aw, c’mon, we ain’t even gonna be goin’ to the same school anymore! No need for all that ‘senpai’ stuff.”
To his delight, that got her to actually chuckle a little. “I’m s-sorry, I know I don’t need be so formal with you all. I’ll do my best in the future!”
A comfortable silence sprung up. Ryuji breathed easy, happy that he at least got her to stop crying. And to think Ann said he was insensitive and Morgana called him a monkey! What did a cat know about having manners, anyways?
“So, erm…I take it you’re going to be finding a new gym, now that you’ll be moving?” Sumire asked bashfully. It was an interesting thought; the PT center was probably going to be his main source of exercise, but not needing a membership was pretty swell. Plus, while his new apartment was in Nishi-Nippori, in Arakawa, he was still only about a half hour away from Shibuya. Nishi-Nippori was a bit old-fashioned, and he wasn’t sure if they were going to have the same kind of gym there.
“Welll, now that ya mention it…I don’t see why I couldn’t keep comin’ to this one. Least until I figure out the commute and decide if I wanna keep doin’ it, heheh!”
Sumire seemed to take that news well. “Really? That’s great! The reason I asked is because, if you don’t mind, I’d like to invite you to one of my boxercising classes.”
Ryuji immediately balked. “Woah, woah, slow down! You said it’s aerobics, right? Isn’t that stuff kinda like…fer girls? N-no offense!” He recoiled in preparation of a stinging remark, but instead heard another pleasant laugh.
“Of course not! It’s seriously great. It’s interval based, so you’re always moving at different intensity levels. There’s a lot of footwork, but it’s not as stressful as running, and it’ll do wonders for your agility. You’ll see!” She was really going for the hard sell. Ryuji didn’t know why, but he felt his stomach kind of turn in a good way listening to her get psyched up about training and working out. It reminded him of being on the track team – hanging out with people that shared your passion and wanted to push you to be better.
“Hmm? Are you okay? Is it your leg?”
Her questions brought him back to reality, where he realized he was staring right at her. Yikes! What was going on? Blood pumped into his cheeks as he tried to find an out. “U-uh, buh, s-sure! Sure, I’ll do it…Sometime, somewhere, I dunno! Need to see what the physical therapy is gonna be like, and whatnot…” Could he have been a more nervous wreck?
“Oh, of course! Please, it’s no rush, consider it an open invitation. I’d also really like it if we could…Talk, like you mentioned. O-only if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble for you, of course!” Now she was sounding nervous. Still, a promise was a promise.
“No, yeah, that’s cool, that’s cool. Jus’, uh, text me or somethin’.”
“Great! That makes me so - !”
Before she could finish, a playful ringtone sprung from her bag. She offered an apologetic smile and pulled out her phone, eyes widening at whomever was calling. “H-hello, dad? Ye-yes, I’m fine! I’m sorry, I-I ran into a friend on the way and lost track of time. I’ll be on the next – Are you sure? Yes, dad. Thank you. I’ll see you soon, bye.”
Ryuji got the gist of it. “Dad worried ‘bout ya?”
“Yes,” she sighed, rolling her eyes playfully again, “He’s very protective, like I said, but I don’t mind. Um, if you want, I could probably convince him to give you a lift, as well. Just so it’ll be easier on your leg. You don’t live too far from here, right?” Man, she really was sweet. Still, his foolish pride once again convinced him that he would be taking advantage of her kindness to do that.
“Thanks, but nah, I got this. Walkin’, restin’, chattin’ with you, ‘s helped a lot. I’ll be fine gettin’ home.” He saw her ready to insist that he reconsider, but thought better of it. She was a quick learner, too.
“If you’re sure,” she replied, sounding a little disappointed. Clearly she was worried.
While he didn’t really need all the fretting, Ryuji knew the nice thing to do was to calm her down.“-Hrrk- I’ll text ya once I get back to my station, ‘lright? Deal?”
She beamed and nodded back, her ponytail bouncing along with her. For some reason, that made his chest tighten up a bit. He figured it was best to get out of there before it got weirder.
“Okay, I’m headin’ out. Seeya later!” He shuffled as quickly as he could past her, but before he could make it out of the shadow of the vendor stand he heard her again.
“Sakamoto-kun!”
He sighed again but as soon as he turned around, she was right in his personal space. Before he took another breath she pushed her duffle bag back so she could free up both arms, reached around his body and held onto him gently, carefully, likely not wanting to put pressure on his leg. It wasn’t a tight hug - only a few pats on the back - nor did it last very long, but Ryuji remained stiff throughout, as if he was stricken with rigor mortis. What. The. Shit.
She was fire hydrant red, as if her bangs had leaked their color into her cheeks when she stepped back. “Th-thank you. For everything. G-goodbye!” Rushing through her customary bow, she hurriedly jogged off to find the main street and wait for her dad.
As she disappeared into the throngs of people, Ryuji could only stare blankly at the space off into the distance, not quite believing what had happened. He took a few steps forward, as if he was going to go after her or something, before his leg, which he’d forgotten about, reminded him that it was time to go home. Looking around, he hadn’t realized that the sun had completely gone down and the sparky neon of Shibuya had punched in for the night. He scratched his head and started making his way into the station, uncertain if his sleep that night was going to be preoccupied with a stiff hip or Sumire.
Probably both.