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Iori makes his way to his personally sealed off classroom where he finds Riku there already. She's sat cross legged on the floor and deeply focused on training with her barriers. Honestly, seeing her put in all this time, effort, and dedication into it makes him feel. . . exhausted already and he’s not even the one training, he’s glad those days are over for himself. An even more honest truth, is that aside from the exhaustion, there’s this coil of warmth he feels at the sight of her too, perhaps because her presence is so bright. He thinks it for the best he ignores that part though.
He looks at her silky dark hair with an orange undercut and notices what seemed different about it. The small piece of plastic suddenly has weight in his white pants pocket, and he thinks now is as good of a time as any. He strolls over to where she’s sat on the ground, and knocks his shoe into her knee to grab her attention, because it was easier than actually calling out to her to get her attention.
“OW!” Iori yelps, when Riku strikes his shin with her fist. “What was that for Aibestu?!”
Riku looks at him like he’s being ridiculous. “You kicked me!”
“Yeah, but not that hard,” he tells hers, his shin still throbbing in pain. “And it was more of a nudge anyways,” he mutters under his breath. Riku sighs before standing up and dusting herself off.
“Did you want something?” she asks.
“Well now I’m not so sure I want to give it to you,” he complains with a head tilt. Riku’s eyes light up and she claps her hands together.
“You brought me something?” she asks, and Iori tries his best to ignore her infectious excitement.
“If you want to call it that,” he says with a shrug. He then pulls out what he brought for her from his pocket, and presents it with an open hand.
“My hair clip,” she says in surprise. “I thought I lost it,” she softly mutters. He noticed it on the ground after their last encounter with a phantom. He thinks that it must have fallen off after one of its attacks.
Her hand goes out to reach it, but Iori just couldn’t resist the temptation to move his hand away right as she was about to grab it. Her face morphs into the angry pout which Iori finds quite amusing and. . . something else that he promised himself he tries to not think about. She goes in to try to grab it again but he moves his hand back so it’s behind him.
“Iori,” she says as laughter leaks through her voice. A subtle smile has reached his face, one that he was completely unaware of.
The sound of her laughter only inspires him to tease her further. This time using the height advantage and raising his hand above his head.
“Come on.”
She swipes at it as Iori does his best to keep it out of her reach. When she goes to get it again, she manages to get a strong grasp on his wrist and in Iori's attempt to pull it back, the back of his legs end up colliding into a desk. The sudden stop sends the front of her body to collide against his and their sudden closeness brings everything to a stop.
Her laughter dies down as they look at one another. Seeing her face so close to his brings up all those feelings he’s tried to ignore. His stomach flutters and despite all the life and death situations they get themselves into on a regular basis, when he’s around her like this, he finally feels like the normal boy he always wanted to be. He looks into her eyes and his heart races. Right now they're not a Shaman and a Beckoning Hand, he’s just a guy who’s feeling nervous around a girl he’s come to care very much about.
She feels so soft and warm against him, he wants nothing more to lean into it, and before he knows he’s doing just that. Every nerve end in his body feels buzzed with electricity and it’s all because of her. She closes her eyes and he can feel her soft breath hit his lips when Fuuko pops into his mind, and suddenly he can’t do this anymore. Doesn’t deserve to, for as long as Senjudoji exists in the world. In a world where he could lose Riku too.
He turns his head away and brings his raised arm down.
“Here you go,” he tells her, his throat feeling tight. He opens his hand and offers up her hair clip once again.
“Oh,” she says, her voice sounding distant. She then takes a step back, giving him space. There’s a pang in his chest seeing her look so dejected. “Thanks,” she tells him as she pushes her hair behind her ear. She takes her hair clip and holds onto it instead of putting it back on right away. “Took you long enough,” she says in an awkward attempt to play off what just happened.
“Well,” he says as he rubs his hand over where her touch still burns on his skin. “You’re stronger than you look,” he tells her.
That does make her smile a little bit and he doesn’t think that fixed everything, but still being able to make her do that does bring him a small amount of ease.
Iori is enjoying his time at home, because for once he’s not burdened with a mission he has to do or trying to connect with Ongyoki. He can finally just relax and try to forget what happened earlier that day. It was all going great, he was laid out on the couch with melon bread in his hand, when a dark and ominous presence suddenly made itself known. He’s familiar with it enough to know it’s not a phantom, none of them are that strong.
“If you’re here to scold me, keep it to yourself,” Iori tells Yayoi, knowing full well his sister has something to say on the matter. Deeply wishing she wouldn’t eavesdrop so much.
“So you’re aware you deserved to be scolded, you brat,” Yayoi tells him as she sits cross legged in her regal looking cushioned chair.
Iori who rather not talk about this, especially with her, takes another bite out of his melon bread.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” she asks, twirling her long hair between her fingers. Iori turns his head to look at her with an exasperated look.
“I figured you’d just read my mind,” he tells her. Like always, he thinks.
“ I thought you didn’t like when I did that ,” she says, having a lilting tune to her voice. He groans when moves to sit up properly on the couch.
“Maybe after Senjudoji is gone, we could. . .” he says with a blush that reaches his cheeks, the thought of a future with them together takes hold in his mind.
“Bad things happen to normal people too, don’t you know?” she reminds him. "And even when your normal, she's always going to attract Phantoms."
“I know that,” he says as he runs his hands over his face. “I know.”
“So instead of worrying about what could happen, you should focus on what you have and can do right now,” she tells him with her chin resting on her hand. “At least that’s what I think.”
He takes what she says seriously and ponders it inside his head. She usually does have a way of being annoyingly right.
“And if you hurt Riku, I'll punish you myself,” she adds with a sinister smile and Iori can tell she’s being entirely serious.
“Hey I’m the one who’s your younger brother, shouldn’t you have my best interest in mind,” he complains.
“I like her more than you,” she says with a shrug, making her hair fall over her shoulder. Iori opens his mouth, ready to protest against what she’s saying. “And I am looking out for you. Aren’t I?” she adds and that manages to shut him up before he can even begin. He rolls his eyes and looks away, because he is her bratty little brother, isn’t he?
“Hey—” he says, getting ready to thank her for the talk when he notices that she’s already gone. Predictable, he thinks with a nostalgic smile on his face.
The next day has Iori as per usual back inside his sealed off classroom and this time around he’s managed to get in there first. He leans against a desk and thinks about how he wants to plan out what he wants to say. As if summoning her by thinking of her, Riku walks in through the door. Her orange hair pin set right back in place on the left side of her hair.
She walks over to where he is and she leans on the desk in the next aisle, so now they’re standing face to face.
“Iori,””Aibetsu,” Riku and Iori say at the same time.
“You go first,” Iori says, noting things have already gone off plan, but that’s to be expected.
“About yesterday,” she starts as she grips the edge of the desk between her hands. “We’ve been through a lot together and um, you know, I’m not very good at lying, So. . .” she starts as she clasps her hands together. “I figured, let me just spit it out. I care a lot about you and I think you know that,” she tells him, her face full of sincerity. “I hope you know that,” she adds.
Iori swallows as he takes in her words. The weight of them makes his chest feel full.
“I wasn’t going to say anything because we’re friends and I know how Komachi feels about you, but I like you Iori,” she confesses, her face now painted red. “A—and you don’t have to like me back or anything, I'll try my best to move one and not let it effect anything, I just wanted you to know.”
“Aibetsu,” he says, because other than that he’s pretty much speechless.
“B—but that’s enough about me. What was it that you wanted to tell me?” she asks, her eyes shiny after such a confession.
Riku’s changed his plans today and she’s changed so many of his plans before, and he’s grateful to her for that. At first it was Yayoi who forced him into protecting her as a beckoning hand, but he hasn’t been forced to do that for quite a while now, and she’s saved him too, in more ways than one.
He supposes he should answer her question, but he’s afraid what he has to say in response can’t live up to the bar she raised. So feeling more than a little motivated, he chooses to act instead. Where unlike the last time where he turned away, this time he leans and kisses her the way he’s secretly wanted to for who knows how long.
Riku lets out a small squeak in surprise before he feels her relax against him. Her hand lands gently on his chest and he wonders if she could feel how fast his heart is beating. When he pulls back, he’s graced with the view of her smiling at him, and it’s one of the most lovely sights he’s seen.
“I see,” she says as they gaze upon each other, the giddy and light feeling being mutual between them.
“Yeah,” Iori says as he leans in again, only to be interrupted by the vibrating phone in his pocket.
“I think you should answer that,” she tells him, both already knowing who it is that’s calling.
“She’ll call me back,” he replies, making her chuckle.