Chapter Text
The boy’s name was Itoshi Rin.
Hiori had heard it a few times before on the playground. More often than not, it was because some kid had run crying to a teacher after Rin had pushed over their sandcastle in the sandbox, or interrupted their game of tag, or squashed a ladybug under his shoe. A whole lot of things, really. Whatever the problem was, if a child was crying, it was most likely ‘that weirdo’ Rin’s fault.
The constant complaints and incidents passed by Hiori without much commotion. Crying classmates weren’t his problem and the disruptions were something he shouldn’t have to care about. His parents’ words rang in his ears — “you only have to worry about football” — so whatever the rest of the kindergarten was getting up to, he could just ignore it. Rin wasn’t even in his class, being a year younger. Turning a blind eye to any potential issues wasn’t a big deal.
It was a typical, late-spring day like any other. The sun was shining. A pleasant wind was blowing. It was a perfect day for Hiori to practice his football skills during recess, no one else caring enough to bother him. Most of the other kids were playing an elaborate game of tag on the other side of the playground with the teachers watching over them. Their shouts and excitable laughs punctuated the air, accompanied by occasional birdsong from the trees and bushes lining the building’s grounds. Nearby, a flock of pigeons was idling underneath an empty jungle gym, pecking around in the dirt, minding their own business.
As usual Hiori was on his own, far away from everyone else, kicking a yellow ball back and forth along the length of the playground. The other boys in his class had offered to play with him but even though his heart had ached with the urge to say ‘yes’, he’d politely declined and walked off. None of the other kids here had a high enough level of skill to keep up with him. His parents always said to only play with the best of the best, so he didn’t play with the other kids here, instead setting up stones on the floor and kicking his ball around them as if they were cones on an astroturf, just like how his father had taught him in the park a few months ago.
It wasn’t as if he minded the solitude. It was simply the way his parents wanted him to be. Sure, there were times when he wished he could agree to play with other children, perhaps doing something not so related to football, but that would stunt his football training and he couldn’t let that slip from his routine.
As long as Mom and Dad are happy, I can be like this, he told himself.
His little legs were still too short to always link up with the ball. After landing a kick that was slightly too strong, it rolled just out of reach, coming to rest at the base of a metal climbing frame attached to the jungle gym. The mishap startled a couple of the pigeons that had begun congregating underneath the frame and they ran further into the middle of their flock.
Hiori’s face contorted into a scowl. He kept messing up like this. It wasn’t good enough. He had to gain better ball control. The disappointed frowns of his parents flashed in his mind. Run the drill again, he mentally berated himself. Dad would make me do it for ten more minutes. He ran over to pick up the ball.
Suddenly, a shadow shifted in the corner of his eye. His head shot up, eyes straining against the sun. Someone was playing on the jungle gym. They’d been so quiet that Hiori hadn’t noticed them until now.
A boy was climbing up the metal bars of the climbing frame, his hair a stark black against the clear, blue sky. He had a small owl pin on his collar — the Owl Class’s signifier, so he was in the year below. His mouth hung ever so slightly agape, strands of drool starting to dribble out, and his eyes were blown wide as he watched the flock of pigeons milling about below him. He was like a cat stalking its prey, a predator about to pounce, waiting for just the right moment to unleash the perfect amount of destruction, assuring victory. It was kinda cool…
And then, Hiori realised — that boy was Itoshi Rin, the kid who caused so much trouble for everyone else. The one who kicked over sandcastles and ran into people for no reason. The one who teachers were constantly pulling to the side to give stern talkings to. No wonder he’d ended up playing on his own. Most likely, no one else wanted to play with him anymore.
Oh well, that wasn’t Hiori’s problem. Rin seemed rather content by himself. Perhaps the two of them were just going to have to share the isolated space together—
Rin jumped.
He leapt clean off the highest bar. Time felt like it suspended itself. Hiori’s eyes widened, his ball slipping from his hands. Why? Why had Rin jumped?
It’s obvious, isn’t it? his thoughts realised. It’s the birds.
It was instantaneous. A moment of confusion melting into sudden understanding in the blink of an eye. Hiori’s mouth flew open to shout but no sound came out. He didn’t mean it to be a shout of fear. Not worry, either.
No. The words he wanted to say were rather, ‘Too soon—‘
THUD!
The ball bounced onto the floor in tandem with Rin smacking face-first into the ground. The birds took off in a flurry of feathers. Every last one flew away. The predator had not caught its prey this time. Instead, Rin was now lying sprawled out on his front, caked in dirt and breathing stifled, likely winded. After a few seconds he lifted his head to gaze up at the pigeons making their escape. His mouth was still hanging open like a dog’s in the summer sun.
Hiori’s feet moved on their own.
-—-
Rin’s fingers curled around the first metal bar of the climbing frame. Every time his small hands tightened around the next piece of cold steel, something primal flickered inside him, urging him to pull himself up a little higher. When he reached the very top, he caught a glimpse of a flock of pigeons right below him pecking about in the dirt.
I want one, he thought. If I jump now, I can catch one. Even if it hurts.
The impulse grasped him tight, constricting him. He wanted to do it, to feel that destruction in the pursuit of his goal. People called him weird for being like this but if anything they were the weird ones for not being willing to let themselves die for what they wanted. Too many people were like Evolmen, that flashy tokusatsu hero from TV. Other kids wanted to follow after Evolmen’s warm, hopeful attitude, helping each other, staying in their familiar bubbles. They weren’t like the monstrous kaijus who fought tooth and nail until the bitter end, breaking and breaking until they died in glorious chaos.
Rin wasn’t like Evolmen. Rin was like a kaiju. Even if he got hurt, the pursuit of his desire was worth the destruction.
Now! his thoughts screamed.
He pushed off the frame. He jumped. Thin air enveloped him. It was as if he were flying… and then gravity kicked in to drag him down.
THUD!
A smack of pain shot through his entire body as he collided with the dusty ground. A sickly, iron-like taste filled his mouth, pain scorching his tongue as his front teeth bit down on it. His chest ached, winded. With blurry vision, he peered up in a slight daze to see all the pigeons flying away. He hadn’t caught a single one. The only destruction he’d created had been to himself. It was fine, he supposed, but not what he'd wanted…
“Hey!”
The voice was shudder-inducing, so out of nowhere. Rin whipped his head around, his vision still settling.
Am I gonna get scolded again?
He’d misbehaved by jumping like that and had already been told off multiple times before for this sort of thing. The pain lingering in his core as he lay there and the way his arms and legs ached was something he could take. Scathing words of disappointment on the other hand were different. Scary—
But there was no teacher coming. In fact, no one was telling him off or calling him weird at all. Instead, his blurry gaze finally settled, landing on a boy running over to him from the edge of the jungle gym. He had a head of cyan hair neatly cropped into a bowl cut, with only a single strand left to hang somewhat longer.
I wanna tug on it, Rin thought.
The hair was only the first thing about this other boy that caught his attention though. Rather quickly he noticed the boy’s eyes. They were staring at him, wide and glossy, as the boy scurried over from a quiet corner of the playground, a yellow ball rolling to a standstill behind him, forgotten. Something about those eyes of his were so emotive against the rest of his rather neutral face, betraying a worry that most would find hard to notice. In a strange but comforting way, his gaze was a lot like an owl’s.
Owls… Rin’s nerves relaxed at the thought of his favourite animal. Still, he swallowed a shaky breath.
The taste of iron flared in his mouth again. He stuck out his tongue and winced as a sting of pain crawled across it.
The boy came to a stop next to where Rin was still lying sprawled out in the dirt. “Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was soft, nothing like the mocking confusion of the other children, the stern reprimands from teachers, or the disappointed mutterings of Rin’s parents. No, this voice was kind. Inviting.
Safe.
Rin wasn’t going to get into trouble if he spoke to this boy. Somehow, he knew that.
The boy crouched down and placed a soothing hand on Rin’s back, stroking up and down. “Did you break your face?” he asked with a strange accent, reaching out his other hand to swipe across the edges of Rin’s mouth, cleaning away strands of drool Rin hadn’t even noticed were there. He then moved up to Rin’s nose. The fingers came away bloody. “Aah, you did.”
“I’m okay,” Rin mumbled but even as he said it, his tongue hurt.
“I’ll go get a teacher.”
“No!” Rin stammered, grasping for the boy’s sleeve. “I’m really okay.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“I don’t mind.”
For a second, a worry sparked that the boy might run off anyway and return with a scowling teacher, but instead of that, he just helped Rin to his feet, even going so far to brush down Rin’s dirty front. He was very tentative with every movement. In a way, he behaved sort of like how Sae did, always careful and gentle. It was nice.
“You were too fast,” he then said as he dusted some dirt off Rin’s sleeve.
“Too fast?”
“You didn’t wait long enough.”
Rin tilted his head.
“The birds,” the boy clarified. “If you wanted to land on them, you needed to wait longer.”
Oh. Rin had thought he’d timed it perfectly. From an outside perspective, perhaps it was easier to figure out that his predictions had been off? He’d remember that for next time.
“What’s your name?” he asked when the boy had finished cleaning him up.
“Hiori Yō,” the boy stood back awkwardly. “But umm, please call me Hiori. I’m from Sheep Class.”
“Hiori…” the name felt so formal. None of the other kids here went by their last names.
“You’re Itoshi Rin from Owl Class, right?” Hiori continued.
“Uhh, yeah.”
Hiori then smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, just a slight quirk of his lips, but it was enough of a tell that he didn’t find this situation strange or annoying. He gave Rin another once-over and his eyes never stopped looking exactly like an owl’s. Funnily enough, the rest of his demeanour was rather sheep-like — fidgeting fingers, reserved, now keeping a respectful distance. He was polite and quiet, too, at least he didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds.
But then, his eyes widened again. It was very nice when they did that, even though he looked worried. He really was like an owl. “Rin, your nose,” he fretted. “You really are hurt.”
“I’m okay.” Even while saying that though, something warm trickled down Rin’s cupid’s bow onto his upper lip. Once again, the taste of iron lapped into his mouth.
“You’re not okay,” Hiori suddenly reached out and grabbed Rin by the hand. “We need a teacher.”
No!
That couldn’t happen. They’d get yelled at, or at least told off. Rin knew he’d misbehaved. That didn’t stop the fear from rising in his gut. “Don’t wanna go,” he dug his feet into the ground.
Hiori stumbled. “Why not?”
“Because the teacher will be angry. Because I was bad.”
That was what people thought of Rin, after all. He was a bad child who didn’t understand anything, who had weird thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have and he made everyone else have a worse time because of it. His classmates’ confused mutterings did reach him from time to time, not to mention all the adults in his life seemed to regurgitate the same lectures about his behaviour every other day. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop being the way he was. He was just like this.
Apart from Sae, the world thought he was weird. He was bad. And they didn’t like it.
“You aren’t bad, Rin.”
Rin froze.
Hiori was still holding his hand. “You just got hurt,” his words were softer than before, soothing. Everything about him was gentle. “I wanna help you, so let’s go find a teacher together.”
And with that, he started to guide Rin across the playground, walking slowly, not pulling him along too much. It was a comforting presence, twinged with a strange hint of urgency. But it was alright. For some reason, Rin knew that. Hiori’s hand interlocking with his own blossomed with a security unlike anything he’d felt around anyone who wasn’t Sae. Only Sae had ever been like this with him before. Only Sae said he wasn’t bad or weird.
Is Hiori like Sae?
But no one was like Sae. No one could be, because Sae was the most amazing person in the whole world! No, Hiori was just being Hiori, nothing more. And yet, he was still doing all of this...
Why?
They approached one of the teachers idling next to the sandbox. “Miss!” Hiori called out, “Rin fell over and got hurt!”
Almost immediately, the nerves reignited. They only grew worse as the teacher hurried over, her face not showing any clear signs of anger but her lips pressed in a tight line revealed enough. It was going to be exactly the same as every other time something like this had happened, wasn’t it?
“Oh dear,” the teacher said, kneeling down and placing her hands on both boys’ shoulders. “We need to go see the nurse about this.” Her eyes glossed over Rin, disappointment pooling in her gaze like it had done several times before. Her focus shifted rather quickly to Hiori though. “Thank you, Yō. Rin will come with me now, so you can go back to playing.”
Rin’s heart thudded against his ribs. Don’t leave me—
As soon as the suggestion of parting ways entered the air, Hiori’s grip on Rin’s hand tightened, squeezing it. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I wanna stay.”
The teacher’s eyes narrowed for a second. “You really don’t have to. Go and play with the others.”
“Don’t wanna.”
At first it looked as though he might be told to leave again with a harsher insistence. By some miracle though, the teacher instead just let out a deep sigh and nodded her head. “Alright. Let’s look after Rin here together.” Her words were strained but at least she was letting Hiori come too.
Their hands remained interlocked all the way to the nurse’s office. In fact, they only let go of each other when the nurse said they had to. Even so, there mere existence of Hiori in the same room was enough for Rin while he had his nose cleaned up and his skin checked for injuries. There was no guilt lingering this time when he had bandaids applied to fresh grazes, or when he had a stern talking to about being more careful. There was someone here who didn’t think less of him for it. Someone who maybe, just maybe, understood him, even just a little bit.
Of course, the nurse praised Hiori for being such a good upperclassman, going so far as to call him ‘responsible Hiori-senpai’ and everything. Hiori was polite about it, thanking her with a neutral expression and downcast eyes, and he shuffled closer to Rin the first chance he got.
By the time they were able to leave the nurse’s office, recess was ending and everyone was going back to their respective classrooms for the afternoon. And so, the teacher ushered the two boys back through the kindergarten’s corridors, stopping first at Hiori’s classroom — a wide, spacious area with a large paper cutout of a sheep in the window that looked out to the corridor and cloakroom.
When they first arrived, Hiori turned to her. “Thank you for letting me stay with Rin.”
She smiled down at the two of them. “You were very good, Yō. I’m sure Rin is grateful for it too. What do we say to Yō now, Rin?”
“Uhh…” Rin looked down. He never really understood these sorts of unclear questions.
After a couple of moments of awkward silence, the teacher huffed. “We say ‘thank you, Yō’, don’t we?”
“Oh…” if she’d wanted him to say that so badly, she could have just said it herself. “Umm, thank you, Hiori.”
The teacher then hummed. “Rin, you call Yō ‘Hiori’?”
“He asked me to,” Rin replied quickly.
“I see. Well then, Yō,” she turned, “do you want me to call you ‘Hiori’ too?”
Hiori shook his head. “Mom and Dad say I should only tell the other kids to call me that. You can still call me Yō because you’re my teacher.”
“Oh?” her voice faltered a bit. “I… I see. Well then, uh, Yō, that’s very mature of you. We’ll see you tomorrow at recess.”
“See you tomorrow,” Hiori replied, finally letting go of Rin’s hand again. “Bye-bye, Rin.”
“Bye-bye,” Rin mumbled.
He didn’t want to leave Hiori’s side. It was strange. Sure, Hiori reminded him of owls and had been responsible enough to help him after he’d fallen over, but there was something deeper running underneath the superficial ease he seemed to bring. Admittedly, ever since the start of the year, Rin had been alone. Sae had grown too old for kindergarten and had started at the local elementary school, so instead of hanging out in his brother’s shadow, Rin had been left with no one else. The other kids found him weird and besides, it was much easier to occupy his time on his own. But that isolation had been festering for months.
Then all of a sudden, here Hiori had come rushing over to him, being so gentle and careful, just like Sae. He wasn’t Sae. No one else could come close to being like Sae. But Hiori was kind. Even just their brief interaction today had proven that much. Hiori was kind, calm and more than anything, safe.
Maybe he is a bit like Sae… there wasn’t much point in avoiding the comparison at this point, even if both were still different in many ways.
As Rin headed back to Owl Class, he glanced back over his shoulder. Hiori was still watching him, lingering in the doorway of the Sheep Class’ classroom. After a few seconds though, something seemed to catch his attention from further inside and he looked away, wandering in to join his classmates.
He’d been so nice despite being a stranger.
I wanna see him again.
-—-
“My big brother plays football, you know?”
The voice was unexpected. Hiori looked up from where he was placing his stones down on the ground as usual, his yellow ball under his arm.
A little way off, Rin was shuffling from foot to foot, hands behind his back. The bandaids from the day before still riddled his arms and legs and his expression was rather neutral, not nearly as concentrated as it had been when he’d tried jumping on the pigeons.
Hiori stood up. “That’s cool,” he replied. “Lots of people play it.”
“Yeah, but my big brother is special,” Rin insisted. A slight glimmer appeared in his eyes. “He plays for Shonen Bellware.”
Shonen Bellware?
Now that was interesting. That was the name of the professional club Hiori was meant to get into once he entered first grade. His parents had tried to get him in already, since he was supposedly good enough, but the club had refused because they’d deemed him too young despite his impressive skills. The hard cutoff was first grade, much to the annoyance of his mother and father. Still, he was training himself every day for the club’s entrance assessment.
Mom and Dad want that.
He trotted over to Rin. “Your big brother must be very talented.”
“Yeah. He just started playing there. He’s amazing.”
“My Mom and Dad want me to go there too. When I get in, I’ll see your big brother. We can play together.”
It was something his parents had gone on about constantly over the past couple of months. Apparently, getting into the club would open doors to professionally organised training programs, a push forwards in the football world at a young age, and proper matches with actual teams from all around the country. Every day he was reminded of how important the assessment was. He couldn’t disappoint his parents. He needed to get in.
It was why he occupied his time practising alone so much. Every day at recess, he set up his stones and dribbled. He sometimes kicked the ball between two of the stones too, pretending it was a penalty shootout and his crude setup was a goal net. He didn't always manage to score but his parents always told him he was going to be the best, so he kept doing the various drills they’d shown him when they'd trained with him at the local park.
Today though, as he placed the ball down to start a set his father had taught him, Rin’s loitering presence remained off to the side.
“Why do you play by yourself?” Rin asked. “My brother always plays with other people.”
“Because no one else here is as good as me. I can’t train properly with them.”
“So you’re like the biggest bestest one here?”
“I guess so.”
Rin made an intrigued noise. “My brother is still better.”
“Well he’s older than me. He has more experience.”
Rin hummed. “I wanna see you play with my brother.”
“Next year, you will."
He then started to dribble. It was still a bit tricky keeping control of the ball but he found it easier by the day. He started slow, guiding the ball around the stones in a zig-zag pattern, and once he’d found his flow he began to speed up. The entire time, Rin watched from the sidelines, crouching down to poke a line of ants with a twig he’d found on the ground.
-—-
The same thing happened the next day. At the start of recess, while the other kids formed into groups and played together, Hiori kicked his ball around on his own and Rin was always nearby. The day after that, the same thing happened again. And then it happened again, and again, and again. After a while, it became second nature to wait for the Owl Class to come out to play before starting to set up the stones. Neither one of them spoke much. The simple act of being in a shared presence was enough. This was their ‘normal’. If that made them weird, then so be it.
It wasn’t as if they never spoke to each other. From time to time, conversation did spring up in brief bursts. Hiori found out that Rin’s older brother was called Sae, that the two of them lived near the pier by the beach, and that Rin really liked ice cream. In turn, Hiori told Rin about how his family had moved from Kyoto to Kamakura about a year before. That was how he found out he apparently spoke with an accent. His parents called it Kansai-ben when he asked them about it. They spoke it too.
His parents also came up a few times. His father was a national silver medalist in judo and his mother was a national silver medalist in high-jump. Rin seemed to find them cool — at one point, he even asked if Hiori’s father could kill bad guys like what happened in the ‘Evolmen’ TV show but Hiori didn’t understand the reference. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV at home apart from football matches.
They stayed like this for several weeks, existing in the same space, occasionally having short conversations. Spring turned to summer. Cicadas came out to fill the air with chirping. And still, Hiori trained. Rin hovered about. Just like always.
-—-
“Hey,” Rin said one day. “Can you play with me?”
Hiori frowned. “I’m already playing.” He brought his ball to a stop under his foot.
“You always play football on your own. Can we play together today?” Rin sounded shy when he spoke, fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt.
It was a troubling suggestion. On the one hand, the disappointed faces of Hiori’s parents flashed in his mind. They wanted him to keep practising even while he was at kindergarten, even if he was tired and even if he felt unwell. He’d been able to keep up with that until now. Stopping for the sake of playing meaningless games would only stunt his growth in football.
But there was nevertheless something flickering inside him, the same feeling he got when he had to reject the other kids’ offers to play with him as part of a team. It was nice having Rin around, even if all he did was hang out on the sidelines. But what if he was getting bored of doing nothing but watching? What if he wanted to go away now because there was nothing for him to do by staying at Hiori’s side? Because Hiori wasn’t interesting enough…
Don’t go…
“What do you wanna play, then?” he asked, wandering over, leaving his ball to roll away.
Rin thought about it for a second. “Evolmen.”
“I already told you, I don't know that show.”
“You don’t have to know it,” Rin shook his head, “just pretend you’re Evolmen. I wanna be the kaiju.”
“What does that mean?”
Rin didn’t answer. He lifted his hands up, flexing his fingers like claws and bearing his teeth like fangs. His stance lowered, crouching as if ready to pounce. And then, a shout more guttural than anything he’d ever sounded like before expelled from his lips.
“Die!”
He charged forwards, arms outstretched.
“Wha—“ Hiori dodged out of the way right before Rin could crash into him, sending Rin rushing off behind him. “Hold on!” he stammered, surprised. “What do I do?”
Again, no direct reply came. Rin stumbled in the dirt, then swivelled around and ran back at his target. And again, Hiori had to side-step out of the way. Every time Rin tried to come at him, he had to think on his feet, manoeuvring his body to avoid a collision. Was this the whole point of the game? Avoid the enemy until he got caught? In that case, he could do that.
At first, it was tricky. His legs and torso weren’t working together and when his upper half twisted one way, his lower half wanted to go another. As the minutes ticked on though and he avoided more and more attempts to catch him, he slowly but surely started getting the hang of it. The confused muddle his limbs had started out as smoothed out to understand each other. Control seeped into every corner of him, making him aware of movements he hadn’t realised were possible.
On top of becoming more aware of himself, he was also very quickly becoming more aware of Rin. The angles Rin chose to attack from. The speed of his movements. The lengths of the breaks between each attack. Being able to somewhat predict all of this and outsmart it was not only becoming easier, but also fun. An unrestrained laugh erupted from Hiori, revitalised every time Rin tried and failed to grab at him with those claw-like fingers.
“Too slow!” he grinned, dodging out of the way once again. “Try harder!”
Rin let out a growling sound, truly in character for a kaiju. “I’ll kill you!”
“No you won’t!”
Those words had probably not been the smartest, in hindsight. For some reason, as soon as Hiori had said them, Rin’s movements changed. They became even more aggressive than before. More destructive. It was as if every muscle in his body was zoning in on a desire to take his enemy down, unwavering. He was faster. Harsher.
More exciting.
A hand reached out. It seized Hiori’s arm before he could move it in time, fingernails digging into the skin. The next thing Hiori knew, Rin grabbed him and practically jumped onto his chest. The two of them toppled to the ground.
Hiori’s back hit the dirt. He winced. For several seconds he just lay there, staring up at the sky, breathing heavily. He hadn’t even realised how out of breath he was. His lungs burned and his limbs ached.
But other than that, he was fine. The pain of falling over was already long gone.
“Are you alright?” he asked, trying his best to sit up. It was hard to do that with Rin’s entire body weight on top of him though.
For a moment Rin didn’t move, weighing him down, hands still gripping Hiori’s arms with iron-like strength. But then, something changed. It was as if a switch had suddenly flicked off. Rin’s hold loosened. He scrambled backwards.
At last, Hiori could sit up properly, crossing his legs and rubbing his arms, where red marks were beginning to show. Hopefully they wouldn’t leave anything permanent. That really would be bad. They didn’t look like they would though and were already fading.
Rin was crouching next to him, staring at him with an expression that was hard to read. His mouth was open but when their eyes locked he clamped it shut, strands of saliva caking his chin. He looked a mess.
Hiori chuckled, pointing at him. “You dribble a lot.”
Rin’s face reddened. He looked down. “Sorry.” He wiped his mouth on the backs of his hands.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“Did I hurt you?”
What?” Hiori asked.
“You fell over when I won,” Rin’s fingers played with each other. “Did I hurt you?” He paused. “It happens a lot when I play with other people.”
Another stifled laugh left Hiori’s mouth. “No,” he patted Rin’s head. “I’m not hurt. That was really fun.”
He meant it casually, just a small gesture to show his appreciation for the excitement, but the glimmer that suddenly sparkled in Rin’s eyes was sign enough that the words meant much more than a mere ‘thank you’. It was as if a spark had ignited, fending off any lingering shyness or nerves. In fact, it almost looked like Rin was smiling.
“You think it’s fun?” he mumbled.
“Very. Let’s play again.”
It wasn’t a lie. For some reason running around, dodging oncoming attacks, and learning the ways the body could twist and bend was incredibly entertaining. It helped that Rin was so into his role as the kaiju, never holding back, always giving his all. It was so much better than what Hiori had been forced to put up with on the occasions when he’d played football with other kids. Those kids would always hesitate and fumble around. They weren’t concentrating enough. They didn’t care if they won or lost. But Rin was different. Instead of treating his idea like a dumb game, it was as if it had suddenly become a matter of life and death, one where he hadn’t minded if he'd died as long as he'd accomplished his goal of dragging Hiori down. Whenever he got that beast-like look in his eyes and his mouth started to drool, things were about to get intense.
Hiori loved it. You really are cool, Rin. He helped the two of them stand.
This time, Rin had more life in his movements than before. He stepped back a bit. “From now on, to start the game,” he said, “you have to say Evolmen’s line.”
“What’s that?” Maybe Hiori should try to watch an episode of this TV show? All the other kids did, after all. He’d ask his parents about it if he ever found himself really wanting to.
“Evolmen goes like this,” Rin then struck a pose, stretching one arm out in front of him with splayed fingers while his other hand grasped under his elbow for support. “Life. Is. Beauti-ho!” he shouted in a rather monotone voice.
A chuckle stifled itself in Hiori’s throat. He bit his lip to repress a snort. That had to be one of the silliest things he’d ever heard. No wonder Rin didn’t want to play Evolmen. The kaiju sounded way better.
Nevertheless, if he wanted to experience Rin’s destructive aggression again, he’d have to say it. He tried his best to imitate the pose, though he didn’t put too much effort in. “Life is, uh, beauti-ho?”
That seemed to be good enough, because once again Rin started charging straight at him. And once again, Hiori found himself actually able to smile and laugh while trying to get out of the way. Their little game kept up for the rest of recess, the two of them chasing each other and getting lost in their own little world.
Because nothing else mattered in that moment. Their game, their connection, overtook everything. The other kids didn’t matter. Football didn’t matter. All that mattered was each other, running around, opponents and friends at the same time.