Chapter Text
Isagi had first met Rin on a bench on the beach.
He was the new arrival in the town of Tengo Kamakura. He was there to start his first year at Blue Lock Uni famed for its amazing marine biology program, although that wasn't what Isagi was going there for. He had just moved his stuff into his dorm, hauling boxes up the stairs and to the fourth floor (what kind of multilevel building didn't have an elevator?). He was exhausted and honestly couldn't handle meeting new people (like his new roommate) and having to talk and be polite right then, so instead he had walked back down the several flights of stairs and down to the beach, finding the furthest bench on the street and setting himself on it, kicking off his sandals to dig his feet into the sand.
The beach air was cold; the gentle sea breeze soothed the headache behind his eyes that had formed from the stress of moving towns and having to meet new people and starting a new course, and, well...the stress of all of it had crept up on him without him even realizing. Hearing the seagulls caw and the waves splash, he let his eyes close, his shoulders drop, and his tense muscles relax.
He opened his eyes to the sound of the old wood in the bench creaking as its weight shifts when someone sits beside him. A man around his age, he was tall with a couple of piercings and dark hair. The guy turned his head, eyes dragging over Isagi judgmentally. His eyes were the color of the sea: viridian.
"What?" The guy asks after they have held eye contact for more than a couple of seconds.
Isagi shrugs, looking back at the ocean, not really bothered enough to care much. "It's just bold of you to sit beside a stranger."
The guy scoffs hotly. "It's my bench."
Isagi nods. "Right." He drags the word out before closing his eyes again, too worn out to be annoyed at a slightly rude guy he'll probably never see again.
They sit in weirdly comfortable silence, with only the distant sounds of shallow waves lapping at sand and the squawk of seagulls between them. They stay like that until the sun finally fell below the horizon and dips into the surface of the water, stars peeking out of the dark sky winking at Isagi. The other man stands up, grabbing his bag off the sand, slinging it over his shoulder, and stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets. Isagi stands as well, grabbing his shoes and walking towards the dorms. After a few minutes of walking, the guy stops.
"Stop following me." He doesn't look back at Isagi; he just stares forward; his lips pulled into a frown. Either his pretty privilege has made him rude, or he's been followed home before, which... he hopes isn't the case.
"I'm not; I live in dorms. This is just the path I take." Isagi stares up at him; he's not trying to be creepy; he's just curious.
He clicks his tongue. "Figures. Let's not see each other again."
The guy takes a left onto another road, one not lit by streetlamps, fading into the darkness, leaving Isagi to walk back to the dorms alone. "Edgy much?" He mutters under his breath.
𓇼 𓆝˚𓆟 ｡𓆞𓇼
Isagi had first met Bachira when they roomed together for their first year of college.
He had once again climbed the four flights of stairs, finding his room at the end of the hall and fumbling with his keys only to find the door was already unlocked. When he pushes the door open, he's met with a loud "HEY ROOMIE!"
Oh Lord.
He's yellow. Yellow sweatsuit, yellow half of the room, and yellow hair for goodness' sake, the guy looks like he lives and breathes the colour yellow.
"What's your name? I'm Meguru Bachira!" Bachira excitedly got off his bed from where he was standing on it, blue tacking a bee poster to the wall. He holds his hand out, waiting for Isagi to take it. Isagi winces at the strong grip, dropping Bachira's, shaking his hand to get circulation back.
"Yoichi Isagi" Isagi tries to smile but yawns instead.
"I hope we can be friends!" Bachira smiles wide, friendly and hopeful (and just a touch crazy); Isagi would probably really like him if he weren't ready for bed. "I could help you unpack if you want?" Bachira gestures toward the boxes set on the desk under the loft bed.
"Uh... yeah, thanks." Isagi waits as Bachira grabs a pair of scissors out of a pencil case on his desk, handing them to Isagi to slit the tape on the moving boxes.
After unpacking the few boxes of clothes and putting them in the chest drawers that were provided by the facility, necessities like a razor, toothbrush, and stationery. Isagi changed into his PJs, climbing into his bed, and clutching his pillow to his chest.
"Do you live in town?" Bachira chirps from where he's lying on his stomach in the bed opposite to Isagi's legs up behind him, swinging to no particular rhythm.
"No, I came from Saitama."
"Cool, I'm from Chiba; that's pretty close, huh?"
Isagi rolls over to face him. "What are you studying?"
Bachira's eyes reflect the faint light coming from the top of the curtains; in the distance Isagi can hear crickets and the faint sound of waves crashing on the beach.
"Art, I love oil painting."
Isagi yawns into the pillow he's holding. "What about it do you love?"
"The brush can't run away from me. What are you doing here?" He says it completely seriously, eyes not blinking as he looks up at the ceiling.
"I'm a psychology major."
Bachira nods. "Yeah, I can see your monster liking that."
"My...monster?" Oh, that creeped him out.
"Mhm, your monster... I think we'll get along. Night, Isagi." And with that, Bachira rolled over to face the wall.
Isagi makes a face. The fuck?
𓇼 𓆝˚𓆟 ｡𓆞𓇼
"Isagi~" Isagi wakes up to the feeling of fried hair tickling his face. Bachira is leaning over him, knees planted on either side of his waist, and face inches away from Isagi's, their noses almost brushing. "Hey, Isagi, wake up~ Let's go get breakfast together!"
"BACHIRA! Personal space!" Isagi yelps, scrambling back on the bed before his head hits the headboard. "Ah, ow."
Bachira giggles, backing up onto his haunches so he wasn't suffocating Isagi. "Oops, well, you're awake now. Let's go out!"
Isagi groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Fine. At least let me have a shower first."
The sun shines brightly into the small dormitory as Bachira (rudely) pulls open the curtains covering the room in golden yellow light. He opens the window to let fresh air in, the sound of bird song and waves splashing filtering through the early morning air.
Isagi gathers clean clothes from the drawers before getting a bath towel and body wash, bundling them into his arms, opening the door, and unlocking his phone to check the school map for where the communal showers were.
Bachira follows behind him carrying similar equipment, although his are in his abnormally large pants pockets. "Showers are this way."
Bachira nudges Isagi down one of the halls with his hip since his hands were busy. Isagi turns too sharply, stumbling over his feet and crashing into a man, stuff flying.
The guy's scowling face is angry for seemingly no reason; maybe he's just like that. "You looking for trouble?"
"I'm so, so sorry." He looks up at him; he's tall, with long lashes, but only this time he's sporting a black eye.
"Oh, it's you." The guy looks down at him, recognition briefly lighting up his eyes, and Isagi thinks maybe he'll be nicer. But that's quickly crushed.
"Hi, rude bench guy," Isagi smiles, trying to be more friendly now that he is rested and in a better mood.
The guy sneers, stepping around him. "Tepid." Then quieter but still just as abrasive, “Hey, Bachira."
"Bitch," Isagi grumbles as Bachira bends down to help pick up his stuff and him.
"That's Rin. I draw with him sometimes. I think he's in a bad mood." Bachira smiles fondly
"You think?" Isagi rolls his eyes, watching Rin walk away.
"It's probably the black eye; those give wicked migraines."
"Wonder who picked a fight with him."
Bachira helps Isagi up after they get all his stuff back and more securely in his arms. "Noooo idea, anyway—about that breakfast date!" Bachira walks briskly through the hall, almost skipping, and pulling along a slightly stumbling Isagi after him.
"Yeah, I could do with breakfast. Where were you thinking?"
"There's this place in town; apparently it's popular, a little French cafe." Bachira chatters happily.
After they showered, Isagi was feeling better; his mood had picked up, he was now clean, more awake, and had largely forgotten the mildly embarrassing moment in the hallway; he was also starving.
Bachira grabbed his arm as soon as Isagi had pulled his pants on. "Come on, come on!"
"Wait, let me get my shirt on!" Isagi playfully shoves him away, managing to get his top over his head when Bachira starts nagging again.
"I'm hungry, dude." Bachira rocks back and forth on his heels, grinning.
They dumped their stuff on their beds to deal with later. Something about Bachira had made him feel rowdy, but he wasn't hating it. They both ran across town as Bachira led them into several dead ends or almost threw them into the sea. When they finally got there, the doorbell rang as Bachira pushed it open, dragging Isagi inside.
"Ooh, I want a crowsant."
"You mean a croissant?"
"Yeah, one of those bread thingies." Bachira points to the chalkboard menu above the counter.
"Bachira, they're all bread things; this is a French-style cafe."
"Yeah, I'll probably get the same with sandwich filling," Isagi muses, pointing alongside Bachira.
"I want double chocolate." Bachiras licks his lips, his stomach growling loudly. Bachira giggles. "Just wait; monster, food won't be long."
"First thing in the morning??"
Isagi went up getting into line to order for them while Bachira went to find them a window seat (requested by Isagi since window seats are superior).
Out of the corner of his eye as he waited for their food, he saw Bachira dump his bag onto the booth table and then walking back over to him before pivoting on his heel and walking right up to the man directly in front of Isagi.
"Whoa, dude, did you fight someone?"
Bachira exclaimed to the man, who had wild blond hair with pink tips that were gelled to stand up, bold eyeliner, and a tan. He looked...incredibly intense... The number of bruises up and down his arms and the graze across his jaw didn't help Isagi's assumptions. Bachira had his head cocked curiously, Isagi felt something weird, fearful? Well the guy could punch Bachira but he doubted it, annoyance maybe? At Bachira’s boldness no that wasn’t the issue either. Jealousy; that made sense, at least it did to Isagi; he didn't want to lose his first friend in this place.
"Oh yeah, I totally beat this guy, but he had it coming don' worry." He gloats smugly to a wide-eyed Bachira. "I'm sure! He shouldn't have messed with you."
"Order for Shidou!" One of the underpaid, tired-looking teenage staff (with black hair that colors his eyes) calls, slamming a sloshing drink on the counter.
Shidou grabs his drink (which is bright pink and no doubt has way too much sugar and he probably only bought it because it was pink), fist-bumping Bachira on the way out. "See ya, Bee-boy!"
"You make friends easily, huh?" Isagi knew Bachira would probably be the social type, but he hadn't expected him to walk up to randoms, especially not randoms who looked so, Isagi struggles to find a nice word for people who looked like they'd beat you up for breathing wrong, and were possibly a little…psycho.
"I'm just as surprised as you, but don't worry, I won't abandon you, Isagi." Bachira laughs, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of red, he turns quickly, snatching his croissant and biting into it before the attendant had even put their food on the counter. "Oh, and I'll pay you back at home," he said with his mouth full. "Promise!"