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Kikuchihara was surprised.
At first he didn't get why Kazama had put so much faith in that boy. Weak, low trion levels and sustaining a highly flawed mentality, that would surely lead him to death sooner rather than later.
He, just as his captain, wasn't one to mince his words. So he didn't.
However rather than grumbling or making excuses, the youngest agreed.
“That match only ended in a draw because Kazama-senpai wanted it to.”
Mikumo, just as any outsider viewer, was aware of this undeniable fact, but it didn't make it any less infuriating. Anyone with eyes, or really, any common sense at all, was aware that he, Mikumo Osamu, was no match for one of the top ranked attackers of Border, you needn't be no genius to know this fact.
Yet Kikuchihara expected some bruised ego, a reaction, anything that could lead him closer to understanding that enigma.
It took weeks for it to finally settle on him.
It was much simpler than the answer he intended to get. Mikumo had a way of doing this, have you running in circles, tripping over yourself until you finally glimpse that the final answer, the final challenge he proposed, was much more straightforward than one would have ever imagined.
Just as his plans, simple, straightforward, cutthroat. He didn't try to complicate things, he just made sure to put all of the best things he had to work.
And it still left a lasting impression nonetheless.
Meek? Perhaps, but not one to run and hide. Weak, flawed and human. And despite all that, he remained solid as a wall.
Shake and crumble all it want, yet he never fell. He never let himself do it.
He couldn't do it.
Not with the expectations and goals he had. There was no room for mistake, no room for self pity and no room to feel shaken.
Simple as it was, it didn't leave Kikuchihara any less intrigued. If anything, it made things worse. And when he got to himself, there he was.
An awkward reassuring word, a piece of advice, a random message, a longing gaze. A step cloeer than he intended to get.
Osamu was like an anchor. One that let Kikuchihara stay afloat and swaying, as if time itself was meaningless. It wasn't bound by mere optimism, but tireless, all consuming calculations, a realistic, yet hopeful gaze forward. An opportunity.
It was no surprise when he learned that even his pulse was steady. Just like his presence.
A chuckle and the verdant irises where boring down on him, in brief questioning. Shirou pondered for a moment, before finally letting go of the hold, “you sound surprisingly nice.” Not surprising, at all, but what would be of him if there wasn't any bite to his words?
Yet his kouhai didn't seem to mind, if the amusement swirling in his eyes were anything to go by.
“I'm glad that you like it.” Was all he needed to mouth, before Shirou curled right back into the embrace.
Steady.
Yeah, he could work with that.
Osamu Mikumo is steady.