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“I think it’s admirable,” Shoko says, tilting her head to the side, a Marlboro red sitting between pretty pink lips. Suguru gets the hint and the lighter flicks to life. He can’t help but stare as Shoko inhales deeply, gaze unwittingly caressing the outline of rising slender shoulders.
Wordlessly, Shoko plucks the cigarette from between her lips and waves it in front of him.
Suguru reaches for it. Watches as the smoke wafts from the embers, an ephemeral quilt that caresses their exchange. He tries not to think about her dainty hands as they graze his. How they’re calloused from when she’d yet to master her RCT; steady and certain from the hours spent saving their injured colleagues.
Damn it. He’s thinking about it.
With a resigned sigh, Suguru takes a deep drag before placing it upon the delicate webbing between her index and middle finger.
“The ability to persevere despite the sheer pain that it cases,” Crimson embers drift toward the ground as Shoko gesticulates emphatically, “y’know, to help those that are in need—”
She’s doing it again. Giving him the Eyes. It’s as if nothing else around her — but him — exists. Combined with the faint smile on her lips, Suguru wants to pull the cigarette away and claim them with his own.
"—to me, that is someone whom I consider the strongest.”
His heart stops.
He needs to say something. Anything. If the silence goes on too long, Suguru fears that the moment may dissipate like the smoke that twists around them.
“Damn,” Suguru clears his throat. Swallows twice to rid himself of the slight rasp as he speaks. “Way to pat yourself on the back,” he finishes lamely.
“I’m talking about you, you idiot,” Shoko teases, nudging his shoulder with her own. Their thighs are touching. Had they been before?
Suguru isn’t sure how much time passes with them sitting together. And when did she rest her head on his shoulder? Has she always smelled this lovely? He’s afraid to move, afraid to shatter the magic in the air, afraid to even breathe in the floral notes lying under the tobacco that tickles his nose, chestnut strands that caress his neck. It’s a comfortable silence - everything is comfortable with her - but there’s lightning in his veins zipping through his blood.
“Suguru…?” Doe-like eyes gaze up at him in question, startled by the way that he jerks away from her. His heart clenches at the slight hurt upon her countenance. No, he thinks. That won’t do.
Palm raising to cheek, he strokes his thumb against her soft, supple skin. And if it weren’t for the pounding beat of his heart in his ears, Suguru would have not just seen but heard a faint gasp from between those pretty lips.
“Shoko, I–” Suguru freezes.
Of course. Of course it had to be this moment that someone had to come by. Suguru chuckles faintly as a familiar, dense energy reaches their little picnic table. Satoru. That dumbass had to have seen them before either Suguru or Shoko noticed someone was coming. Though unwillingly, the two of them part as Suguru drops his hand from her cheek. Still, he refuses to stop touching her, needs to touch her; slides it where their thighs were touching and interlocks his fingers with hers.
Oblivious as always, that was their Satoru—though something else seemed a little off. His best friend might be an idiot, but even he wasn’t that devoid of social tact.
When he finally approaches, “You guys look like shit,” Satoru drawls. His pace slows, but never fully stops.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Nice jacket, by the way,” Shoko interjects, voice soft yet amused. “Always gotta make a statement, huh?” She smiles faintly, chin jerking toward their friend. Suguru almost chokes when Satoru looks down, mildly amused by how quickly Satoru began to resemble a ripe tomato. There’s a button that’s been obviously skipped; the tag of his shirt juts proudly from his collarbone.
“Whatever,” Satoru mumbles, quickening his pace toward the dormitory behind them.
“What’s the rush?” Shoko calls after him, a teasing lilt in her voice.
“None ya!”
Chuckling, Suguru nudges her with his elbow, their interlocked hands lifting slightly at the action.
“Wonder what that’s all about,” Suguru comments idly, not knowing what else to say. The moment seemed to have ended. But as Shoko’s grasp tightens around his, Suguru can’t help but think that this could only be the start of something fragile and new.
“Think our boy’s finally growing up,” Shoko rests her head back onto his shoulder, a content sigh escaping from her lips. She lifts her un-tethered hand in greeting, carelessly waving at an equally disheveled senpai approaching from the distance.
“S-shoko! Suguru! I’m just here to get my charger from that idiot,” their senpai averts her gaze, slowing her gait but never stopping. Suguru rolls his eyes.
“Tell Satoru I said hi!” Shoko teases, lifting her head from his shoulder yet again. Yet again, the moment is broken, Suguru laments.
But as Shoko lifts her head to peek at him from beneath thick lashes, Suguru knows that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.