Chapter Text
Ryou-san, let's break up.
They were simple words, four simple words, one of which was the name of someone he trusts with his entire life— it's literally all Kuramochi has to say.
"...Ryou-san..." he starts again, for the fifth time, or is it the sixth, Kuramochi's lost count by now but okay, so far so good... just that, too bad, the rest of it never comes easy.
Ryousuke hums in response, as he has for seven times (he's been keeping count because something in the back of his mind was gnawing at him to), and as he always has, idly skimming fingers along a book spine.
"...Listen, Ryou-san..."
Ryousuke hums again, eyes languidly looking through the title, reassures the other, "I'm listening, Youichi—"
"Ryou-san, let's break up."
...Ryousuke knew something was off with Kuramochi.
It's Thursday lunch period when Kuramochi's class prior is English and Ryousuke's after is self-study, and so their trips to the library coincidentally overlap. They never made it an official thing to be meeting here on the dot but end up doing it every Thursday lunch period anyway, because Kuramochi always needs help finding a book Rei-chan assigned, and Ryousuke is always finding volume after volume of books to enjoy in his sort of own time. After that's resolved they would always sit together at the table nearest the entrance and exit of the resource center, so they could spend up to the very last minute of break in each other's quiet company.
Right now they're not at their usual table. They're at the English references section, among shelves that stretched across the farthest end of the library, in an area dim due to an unmaintained light bulb no one bothers with since English is, after all, everyone's least favorite subject— secluded, relatively intimate, and Ryousuke would have accused Kuramochi of taking him here for 'illicit activity' like he usually does for the incorrigible sake of baiting, had he not started to notice, by the lack of the no-longer-surprised, ever-cheerful greeting when he entered and found Kuramochi waiting here, that there was something hanging heavy and discomfiting in the atmosphere.
Ryousuke had initially made nothing of it, taking to business as usual as he ran knowing fingers along the bookcase opposite the one Kuramochi was leaning on, but the way Kuramochi's voice shook wasn't easy to ignore.
"Ryou-san... hya— ha— How could you do something so underhanded?" he had gaped weakly, when Ryousuke pulled the next installment of the series he's been reading from where he hid it in the obsolete middle of the shelf behind some thick books; Ryousuke could tell it was some last-ditch attempt at being casual.
So he only shrugged, answering, more dutifully than anything, "Haruichi was going to try to beat me to it again. I just wanted to see how he'd react."
But Haruichi wasn't here today.
The younger Kominato's schedule lined up with theirs too and lately he's been hanging around at Ryousuke and Kuramochi's table much to them not minding in the least. With Ryousuke retired for good from the baseball club there was hardly any time to spend with him and so his, well, biggest fans apparently, and best friends, truly were happy to bask in his semi-rare presence, Haruichi more especially, but Haruichi wasn't here today.
While by the nervous quiver to Kuramochi's voice Ryousuke had already concluded that he'd kept him here for a serious, private conversation, as he had the habit to sometimes (always afraid of ever catching the librarian's attention if he ever raised his voice, always wary of if anyone was within earshot and could catch him saying things meant for Ryou-san and Ryou-san alone), Ryousuke could swear that these words came out of nowhere.
"You want to break up?" Ryousuke repeats coolly, to Kuramochi to simply confirm, then to himself because a part of him is insisting that he must, must, must have heard wrong.
It's the part of Ryousuke he's always tried to tuck away, the... romantic part— (? this is a slight stretch—) the part of him that excused why his heartbeat picked up on his way to this place every time, the part that leads Ryousuke's mind astray to one of his most unforgettable memories from earlier this year (when Kuramochi brought him to this same secluded, intimate area and confessed, when they first kissed)—
Ryousuke tenses, keeping that side of him at bay.
He greatly preferred the comfortable jog trot he fell into with Kuramochi after they started dating over the awkwardness, he hated awkwardness— Kuramochi's spontaneous nature had this relationship smooth-sailing; it's been so easy because neither of them has ever had to actually give it thought— they just fit.
When Kuramochi had confessed he was a flustered, over-thinking mess, tripping on 'Ryou-san's and 'We've been through a lot together's and 'Will you take me?'s, and darling as Kuramochi was with the flush of coyness on his face Ryousuke has never felt so exposed, when every word falling from Kuramochi's lips was taking his defenses down with it, when he realized he'd felt the same— All Ryousuke could do was nod, 'All right,' grab Kuramochi's tie and pull him in to shut his stammers up once and for all. Even when he managed to act collected, kiss the other slow and sweet and even sensual, operating on faux-confidence because that's just the way he is, his heart felt like it could burst and Ryousuke has never felt so exposed in his entire life. He then found comfort in the hands that slid to his hips and lingered as if they belonged there, in the lips that relaxed against his own and kissed back with hardly any hesitation anymore, in the arms that wrapped around him later, in the daze they quietly stood in seconds and minutes that felt like hours later. And in the voice that confessed two, three more times. Because just like that they were together, just like that it was simpler, just knowing what they were from that point on.
Though when these thoughts are interrupted, Kuramochi's voice doesn't bring Ryousuke any relief, only reminds him too much of how disarmed he'd been as if it were the only thing he felt— With Kuramochi like this, having panicked in silence as if he'd break if he does as little as think about touching Ryousuke, there's no promise to bring any comfort either; as it so happened that he started to depend on Kuramochi, when Kuramochi doesn't know what the hell he's doing neither does Ryousuke.
"...Ryou-san, I— I just— Ryou-san..."
Ryousuke takes a deep breath, for both of them, places the book back in its rightful slot. Fortunately, he's a better actor now, or so he supposes, and is able to hide the unease Kuramochi's started to stir up in him with minimal effort, able to remain as nonchalant as possible for the time-being.
Kuramochi gulps, as if such a thing could fill the overbearing silence, as if that would keep him from choking on his words but it burns, the back of his throat is burning and now his eyes are stinging. He shuts them, holding his... resolve, making haste of making sense and verb of things he's rehearsed in his head late weeknights upon late weeknights. "I... I like... you, Ryou-san, I like you of course— no, god, I'm... I'm in love with you..."
And the stutter is so familiar; Ryousuke is sure that under different circumstances, he would laugh, because this really did sound far too much like that confession from long ago. But truth be told, back then was completely unlike today's circumstances— back then even when Kuramochi was a bundle of nerves on the edge of snapping he didn't sound as if he were on the verge of breaking down.
"...Ryou-san... Ryou-san, please believe me," Kuramochi is croaking, blinking the startings of tears away, from where he's standing now unable to tell if Ryousuke's any close to a response because he's still stoically fiddling with other books and is he really listening? "...I really do love you..."
Something compels Ryousuke to turn around and face Kuramochi at that, again that part of him he wished to lock away behind walls of his special brand of harshness, the part of him that's always managed to let those walls down for Kuramochi and take him over anyway at the worst possible times, the part of him that's so much in love with being in love with Kuramochi, and the part of him that compels him to say it— "And I love you too, Youichi, so why?"
Before Ryousuke realizes what he's just said— or how godforsaken-desperate it sounded, how huge a rift that single chink in his self-possession could turn into— the words have already taken effect, caused the look on Kuramochi's face to morph from anxiety to absolute incredulity, caused him to mumble "Ryou-san... Ryou-san, that's... the first time you've ever..."
"I know," Ryousuke mutters, looking away, "I know." And he loathes himself for it.
He's too guarded for these things. Even with Kuramochi, and it's so unfair now, it's so goddamn unfair to realize now—
He'd really gone and let himself fall for the freshman who took his high school life by storm, a cackling hurricane he could calm down with a chop of his hand or a slash of a sharp tongue, encouragements clouded as half-meant commands of "Can you show me what you're worth? I'm falling asleep here."
And Kuramochi had really gone and done it, he had shown Ryousuke what he was worth, and as if that weren't enough gave all of him he could. Kuramochi went and caught up with Ryousuke fast as lightning, whipping from first base to second then to third before finally striking home, scoring with Ryousuke, winning his godforsaken heart for fuck's sake, taking him away like the wind.
Ryousuke was aware it was only a matter of time. The other part of him tells him now he should have seen this coming, as he did with the confession.
This other part of him was rational, see, saw clearly the way Kuramochi looked at him with admiring and loving eyes along with the little smiles to himself thereafter, physically felt Kuramochi draw closer and closer until he found him under his skin digging up his hidden capacity for affection. This part of him knew this was a bad idea from the start, questioned why on Earth he would commit when he was graduating in a year and a breakup when the time came was inevitable, then answered with that he was just humoring Kuramochi. This is the part of him that didn't want to be in love, didn't ever let him say it, cursed him with the mindset that the only reason he'd accepted his confession was because otherwise wouldn't be good for their teamwork and their team— or something, but that sounds nothing like rational now, sounds everything like utter bullshit.
It was this Ryousuke believed: love is always, always so irrational.
That for Haruichi made him stalk off to fight fights with kids bigger than him because they made his little brother cry, and that for baseball made him leave home to a whole other prefecture to prove he wouldn't lose just because he's smaller.
And most importantly for the moment, that for Kuramochi stripped him bare and cut him open and was now begging him to do something about Kuramochi wanting to break up, because in spite of ever trying to remain impersonal he's become, ironically, wholly partial to his relationship with Kuramochi.
Ryousuke sneers at himself, he hasn't learned, has he? Has to live with the consequences of every decision he's ever made for himself and for love: blood and bruises, years of brutal training... and then right here, right now, this.
He speaks up after a while, regaining placidity in his countenance because one of them's gotta keep his head, despite how hard he has to force himself to form words at all, "Would you be so kind as to have the decency to tell me why, at least?"
But more than the usual placid, it was icy, so cold, Ryousuke's tone sent a discomforting chill up Kuramochi's spine and pushes the plea out of him, "Ryou-san, please don't talk to me like that—"
"Tell me what the problem is." Steady. Ryousuke is proud of himself for that his voice isn't betraying his disorientation, but that's about all he can be proud of himself for. For that he's rushing the confrontation, imagining how difficult this must be for Kuramochi to begin with, handling this thus far with so much poise when Kuramochi adores his grace, for making this harder than it has to be, he's guilty. But he has to beat the urge to run away from this by rationalizing it if he can't manage anything else.
"Ryou-san..." Kuramochi trails off, he's at a loss. He understands that anything he says from here on out will do the situation no better, will probably only make it worse. But he's wholeheartedly vowed honesty to Ryousuke, which is what's brought this on in the first place, and he thought he's thought this through.
His resolve is crumbling along with the rest of him. He feels like crying, he's already crying, and he doesn't care how much a pathetic idiot he must look right now even when the panic and anxiety have caught up with him. Because he's vowed both his best and worst to Ryousuke, his everything, he's vowed devotion to him, too.
...And loyalty. Out of love there's so much Kuramochi has given and is willing to give to Ryousuke, but loyalty, this one thing called 'loyalty' he suddenly couldn't trust himself to have.
That's what this is in its entirety.
Kuramochi has no idea how Ryousuke does it but he's not short of conviction when he comes up and out with it:"It's Haruichi, isn't it?"
Kuramochi's mind blanked out the second the words rolled off the tip of Ryousuke's tongue, borderline amazed, but now it's switching to hyper-drive trying to process when Ryousuke continues,
"Is that why he isn't here today? There's no reason he wouldn't come, unless you specifically asked him not to because you needed to talk to me. Am I right?"
"Ryou-san, no—" and Kuramochi stumbles, "I mean— yes," he did tell Haruichi not to come.
True enough, there is hardly anything that could keep Haruichi from Ryousuke now that they've rediscovered things other than baseball to bond over, the sentiments stronger than ever now that this is mere downtime before Ryousuke goes off to find something newer and bigger and better to share with Haruichi. They might never lose the occassional, almost obligatory, always ambiguous 'Catch me if you can,' and that was fine.
That was one of Kuramochi's favorite things about Ryousuke (though there are many): how he has his own special way of teaching Haruichi how to make his own decisions, and if those decisions involved him still as well as Haruichi's looking up to him, Ryousuke takes it, puts the stars in his brother's eyes and the elation on his lips, builds him to be aspiring and determined and resolute with what he chose for himself with challenges he has no doubt he'll overcome with that amazing stubbornness of his.
Ryousuke is a great big brother, Haruichi a great kid brother, and Kuramochi deemed himself lucky he gets to be there when Ryousuke pokes harmless fun at Haruichi and Haruichi blushes when he gets needlessly worked up then he has to intervene somehow so Ryousuke cuts it out and so Haruichi is reassured, he's lucky he gets to watch them laugh with each other, because then he'd think to himself that they are both so, so beautiful.
Because then Kuramochi'd realize he loves them both.
He's not sure when he started to think about Haruichi like this; he's always been pretty cute on top of being so earnest in everything he does, that in itself was so admirable. But more than that Kuramochi's heart was swelling at the sight and sound and thought of him before he knew it, and he knew exactly what this feeling was, because Ryousuke made him feel this way and more.
It's not that he was feeling any less for Ryousuke, nor that he was feeling any more for Haruichi. Neither happened for him, he never did compare them when it came to this. What it was is that he was feeling for someone else when he's committed himself to Ryousuke.
Though there was so much more to it, Kuramochi knows at the least of the least that the least he could do was this, fight to find it in himself, the belated courage to admit it: "Yes... I... It's Haruichi, I— I... Fuck, Ryou-san, I... love Haruichi."
"...Oh?" So he went ahead and spilled; Ryousuke could give him credit for it, for not lying his way out of this even if coherence was failing him, because that he's in love with his boyfriend's brother couldn't be an easy thing to concede no matter how anyone cut it.
Ryousuke can't even say that hearing it now doesn't confirm that which he's started to surmise when Haruichi first came around, he means— Kuramochi had zero reservations expressing how wonderful and precious Haruichi's become to him, he's been nothing but obvious, and moreover Ryousuke can't say he doesn't understand either.
Haruichi has always been incredible; Ryousuke would never have guessed that he'd follow him as far as into Kuramochi's heart but when he realized it he didn't mind. Didn't think ill of either of them, wasn't bothered by the development between them, because they mattered to him, and to each other, too much for him to even want to nip their connection in the bud.
What bothers him now, and most, is that while he hasn't ever let it cross his mind that the premise was askew, Kuramochi chose this as his first course of action. That the first thing he's thought to do was just end it instead of talk it out. And what for? What by?
Ryousuke wouldn't know. Or would he? Perhaps. It's likely. This entire situation has turned so irrational.
"...Ryou-san..."
Hence, for all of Kuramochi's irrationality, Ryousuke irrationally thinks he has to match it. "Are you going to confess to him?" It's an unfair thing to ask, completely uncalled for but he doesn't let Kuramochi get a word in. "Then go out with him, right?" He doesn't believe half the things he's saying but he can't stop. Next to love there is only one thing more irrational, and it's hurt. There's no going back once veered in its direction by the one person who had enough of him to break him and Ryousuke spits out, out of line, "Then break up with him when you retire and graduate? Hurt him like I hurt you."
Kuramochi's stunned in silence, blinking, but Ryousuke's not done, oh he's not done. He'll make this as painful as he can to exhaust that in him because he hates it, and what's worst about it is that Kuramochi supposes he deserves this, he's the scum of the earth, takes it with a single shred of dignity and multiple sheds of tears when Ryousuke pushes it,
"That sounds like a whole lot of fun for you. Do you get off on knowing at the end of it all that you'll have broken both our hearts? It has to be that, right?"
Kuramochi is in disbelief, that Ryousuke would imply something so twisted. While teasing has always been a part of their exchange this was too low a blow, even for Ryousuke, especially for Ryousuke, and Kuramochi's temper threatens to want to hit back but he can't. Not when he heard the crack in Ryousuke's voice.
By now any facade Ryouske was trying to put up is ruined, and he's tried so hard— but he still wills himself not to give into the pricking sensation in the corner of his eyes and the depths of his chest— no one will ever see Kominato Ryousuke cry.
Kuramochi can tell though, can see how Ryousuke is still averting his eyes and biting his lip, and no matter how prepared Kuramochi was, or thought he was, for how much this will hurt him, nothing could have ever prepared him to endure how much this will hurt for Ryousuke. And he can't stand the guilt of reducing Ryousuke to this— So he falls forward, closing the distance between them, fingers reaching out to hold Ryousuke's cheek.
Ryousuke's heart stops at the feeling. Kuramochi's hand is rough and hard from calluses but so soft and gentle and raw every time he touches him, and the sentiment forms around a sense of finality making Ryousuke lean into the touch, lips pressing against the warmth of Kuramochi's palm.
When Ryousuke looks up into Kuramochi's eyes and sees vulnerability reflected back at him he snaps to realization, realization that he's let his guard too far down now and he's had enough— too much— enough— too much.
Ryousuke reaches up at Kuramochi's wrist, clutching with shivering fingers, holding on for a fraction of a second before pulling away with effort, chuckling to stop the tears, simpering to patch up what's left of his composure. "I assume you're aware you're going to have to give me time to process this."
Ryousuke's voice has really frozen over at this point but that doesn't stop Kuramochi from responding, nodding, resigned, forcing himself to accept that Ryousuke doesn't even want to look at him—
"Goodbye, Kuramochi—"
And then Kuramochi can't, fuck he can't, "Wait, Ryou-san—!"
And it's Kuramochi's fingers now that catch on Ryousuke's wrist when he turns to finally leave. Ryousuke keeps a hold of himself, lowering his voice for effect; his heart is going a mile a minute again and he can't stay, he can't stay like this, not right now. "Don't act so familiarly with me. That's Kominato-senpai to you."
Whether he wanted to ask if it were because he asked to break up or if he was just really cruel enough to hold even that against him Kuramochi blurts out something he doesn't want or have to say: "You're not even on the team anymore!"
"Mm." Ryousuke didn't need to be reminded. "Kominato-san it is then."
Kuramochi's systems shut down, and when Ryousuke shakes him off he doesn't even look back, only warns: "If you have any respect left for me at all, then heed this: I forbid you to breathe a word about this to my little brother."
Kuramochi couldn't say anything back. Ryousuke had the last say in everything, every time, and this time wasn't going to be different.
He stood where he started, watching Ryousuke's back through the blur of tears and the haze of his mess of emotions.
He didn't know what he was expecting would happen. He hadn't thought that far into it. But he did know that he'd really gone and fucked everything up.
If the library staff saw Ryousuke wiping tears on the sleeve of his uniform cardigan on his way out, they pretended not to notice.
And if anyone noticed Kuramochi shaking as he buried his face in his arms, pretended to sleep in his desk after he dragged himself back from the library empty-handed, they didn't say anything about it.