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Rin didn’t listen much in school. Be it teachers or classmates, most of what they said just flew over his head less because he couldn't understand them and more because it all held very little interest in his eyes. The other students seemed to understand this and, after a few years, his classmates were content to spare him the small talk and ask him directly if they needed something, fully knowing – at least Rin thought they did – he might ignore them. Strangely enough, he wouldn't say he had a bad relationship with anyone in his year despite all of this – nobody ever tried to bother him, and he didn't go out of his way to interact with anyone, but he participated in class activities – doing the bare minimum, of course – just fine.
He paid even less mind to the meaningless chatter that filled the classroom during breaks… Until today. If you asked him if there were any particular reason why this conversation more than any others caught his attention, Rin wouldn't be able to answer. It just did. One moment he was looking out the window, watching the older students warm up for their gym class – to be quite honest, he was only looking at the very recognizable figure of his brother stretching carefully – and the next, the words his classmates were saying had entered his ears, crashed into his brain and left such an impression that he couldn't think about anything else.
What they were saying wasn't earth-shattering, nor was it impactful in any way. If he thought about it for more than a few seconds, he'd surely be able to remember them talking about the same thing last week or last month – not that he had any idea of what they were on about even a few minutes ago so remembering what happened yesterday or before was impossible – as the topic had been going around a lot recently. It was the same discussion as always, the kind that kids who were almost teenagers but still young often had. Really, there was no particular reason why he should be interested in this… And yet. It all connected to something he had been thinking about a lot recently and perhaps that was why he listened more intently than he would have usually. With Sae not leaving his line of sight, he listened to what his classmates were talking about in great detail, with hushed laughs and fake scandalized yelps punctuating their sentences, and learned absolutely nothing that could help him, but also, somehow, a few things.
The teacher opened the door just as the conversation winded down and Rin was left with questions stewing in his head for the rest of the afternoon.
* * *
The number one query – that was to say, the one that left the deepest, most nagging impression on him, the one that had been gnawing at his brain the most these last few hours – was a very simple one. So simple that, if he had asked himself this question two weeks ago, he'd have dismissed it as stupid and geared his thoughts toward something more useful and sensible – like football. Problem was, Rin wasn't exactly the same as he was two weeks ago.
Ever since that day, his thoughts had been jumbled up and Sae, who used to detangle them to make Rin understand things better, was the problem. Well, that was half a lie. A total lie actually. Sae could never be the problem in Rin's eyes. Rather, an event that involved his brother was the problem and Sae didn't do anything wrong. Yes, that was better to think about it this way. It wasn't Sae's fault that he was confessed to just when Rin went to get him for practice after all – that was just bad timing. And, of course, Sae dismissed the girl quickly – he seemed to have experience with that kind of event – before going with Rin, but it didn't stop a seed of something – could be jealousy (it didn't feel like it) or worry (it was very different) – from germinating inside Rin's heart.
Sae was popular. That was a plain fact that nobody could argue against. Rin was even somewhat proud of it – Sae's value being recognized by everyone, even people who didn't understand a lick of football was a great thing. Despite rejecting every Valentine's gift, his shoe locker was often full of chocolates and letters when the day hit and, sometimes, students showed up on match days to cheer for him, but Sae always dismissed everyone – the only chocolates he accepted were their mother's and Rin's back when he made some in preschool, and he didn't even glance at his fans while playing – so Rin had assumed he didn't accept confessions either.
To put it mildly, it came off as a shock.
Rin was confident – maybe it was unearned though it was never challenged – that he would forever be in the top spot of Sae's list of favorite people. It was this way for Rin, with Sae trumping everyone, so why should it be different for Sae? Now though, under the very, very, very slim, teeny tiny threat that someone else could take his place, Rin was lost. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. Together with the two of them – just Sae and Rin and nobody else – they would be the best. No matter from which angle he looked at the equation, there wasn't any space for a third person. And, simply at the thought of a nebulous third entity – who probably had never touched a ball in their life – coming between them, feelings that he couldn't put a name onto started to spring inside Rin.
In any other situation, he'd have dismissed his classmates' chatter as meaningless, but it was a little too difficult to do now that their words resonated – only a bit – with him. It wasn't exactly the same – there were talks of crushes and other love stories he couldn't care less about – but there were similarities. Enough similarities that he ended up listening even less than usual in class as his now confused thoughts were all turned toward his brother and everything related to him. (Some would say that it didn't change from his normal thoughts, but on normal days, he thought about football too – alongside his brother.)
Unfortunately, Rin didn't only space out in class, but during practice too. Sae didn't say anything when it came to school – other than to tell him to keep his grades up so he wouldn't have to get extra assignments that would eat into training time – but he was intransigent during and after club hours. Rin had expected his lackluster performance of the day to put Sae in a sour mood and to train even more after practice yet, his brother went on as usual and, instead of dragging him to the local park with a ball in hand, Sae sat down on the embankment, munching on his popsicle without saying anything.
Sae wasn't that good with words – even if, in Rin's extremely informed opinion, everything he'd say was law – but that was – again, in Rin's extremely informed opinion as someone who observed every little thing about his older brother – his way of asking Rin what happened today. It wasn't something he'd do for anyone – he wouldn't do it for anyone else, Rin was sure of it – as he preferred to ignore troublesome things or talk directly to people who'd cross him, but that was something he always did for Rin… Not that he had really needed this since preschool – since he joined the club.
The silence stretched on and on, unbroken aside by the cars passing by behind them. Behind the horizon, the sky was turning a gentle pinkish-orange as night was approaching. Their popsicles had long since melted off and been eaten when Rin finally felt like opening his mouth.
“Hey, nii-chan.”
“Hm?” Chewing on his losing stick, Sae turned toward him, encouraging him to continue with a slight nod.
“Do you want to buy ice cream for other people?”
“What?”
Unfortunately for the Itoshi brothers (and for everyone else though they mattered very little to the siblings), Rin was as bad with words as Sae was.
“Rin,” Sae sighed. “Start from the beginning.”
“But nii-chan–”
“I won't answer until you explain everything.”
Flinging his chewed popsicle stick into the sea, Sae leaned back onto the railing, waiting for Rin to start explaining. Now, Rin could have done anything. Get up and walk away. Get angry. Invent a story that'd seem plausible enough that Sae would be pleased (maybe). But Rin's way with words was clumsy at best, downright disastrous at worst, and, more than all of this, he couldn't lie to his brother. Not that he could come out fully clean either. He had never doubted his status as number one in his brother's heart for even a moment, but, when confronted with the idea of saying it out loud to the concerned person, he was wavering.
What if his assumptions were false? (Impossible.) What if Sae liked someone more than he liked Rin? (Impossible.) What if he noticed Rin's thoughts twisting into spirals at all hours of the day? (Imposs–)
“Ouch!”
Sudden pain pulled him out of his thoughts and Rin rubbed his forehead which was surely bright red from Sae flicking it just now – the culprit was wholly unbothered by Rin glaring at him though.
“Hurry up, I want to go home.”
“It's not interesting…”
“I’ll be the one to decide that,” Sae huffed. “If you don't talk, I'm tossing you into the ocean next.”
“You won't!”
“I will.”
“You will…?”
“I… won't. Come on, just hurry up.”
Reassured – not that he believed Sae would actually do this when he was so nice – Rin looked at his hands which were twisting the winning stick until it broke off a few seconds later. Only then did he start talking. Of course, he didn't go into the nitty-gritty details and kept it to simple facts – that he worried about Sae choosing someone else over him (and football) and that he didn't like it. The superfluous and still unknown feelings plaguing him were left unsaid, even if it led to holes in Rin’s story. If Sae thought it was strange, it didn't show on his face. Instead–
“You're stupid.”
Rin puffed his cheeks, aware that his worries weren't that important in the grand scheme of things – especially compared to how difficult their shared dream could seem – but that didn't mean Sae could dismiss it that easily… Just as he shifted away, ready to get up and go home to sulk (until Sae did something to cheer him up), his brother spoke again.
“I don't need anything other than football and you.”
“Nii-chan…”
“Happy now?”
“Yeah!” Rin nodded so frantically that his head hurt. “You won't buy ice cream for others, promise?”
“Why are you so focused on that… Whatever, sure.”
That was all the confirmation Rin needed for his body to feel lighter. As long as nobody came between his brother and him, even these feelings he still didn't understand he could forget about for a moment. The broken pieces of popsicle stick dug into his clutched palm, a reminder that this gift was a privilege for Rin and Rin alone.
“Rin, look at me.”
Now that he didn’t have a reason to brood, Rin obediently turned toward his brother, ready to listen to anything he would say. He should have known though that Sae would use actions over words to make sure his message was understood. Something soft touched Rin’s lips for a split second as Sae’s face filled his vision. The only sound that reached Rin’s ears at that moment was the muted thud of his winning stick remains hitting the concrete of the embankment. Sae pulled away before Rin could ask why he kissed him, he stroked his brother's head with his two hands, messing up his hair and blocking Rin from looking at his face.
“Nii-chan–”
Sae cut him off, getting up without so much as a second look at Rin, his face turned toward the road. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!”
It was less a quiet way back home than a sprint – Sae running home the way he’d always do when racing against Rin (it was cheating because he started running before his brother) and Rin running after Sae, hoping to catch him this time. When they reached home, all sticky with sweat and breathing too hard, their mother didn't question anything – she had stopped doing that a long time ago with them – and they didn’t tell her anything. Nor did they talk much afterward about what just happened or anything, yet Rin felt like all his queries were answered.
Even if he couldn’t put a name on everything he felt, for now, it was enough. As long as it was just the two of them, it would always be enough… (But maybe he wouldn’t mind talking a little more about the kiss later.)