* DARK / SUN.

“would it be weird to say that your smile’s the first thing to come to mind?” 

   ... okay, that’s probably really weird. you find your cheeks going a little pink, and you press on before he can read too much into it. “i-- i mean, it just-- you’re always so fired up and full of energy, and when you’re in a good mood... it puts me in a good mood, too. it makes me feel like i can do anything.”

   shit, that’s still definitely weird. “i’m sure it’s the same for hitomin and the others, too. but-- there’s way more to like about you than just your smile. you set your mind to things and see them through, no matter what. you can be brash and kinda... sometimes... leap before you look, but you’re also so, so, so kind and i don’t think i’ve ever seen you turn your back on someone in need-- even when they’ve been total jackasses to you. it’s... it’s really cool. you’re loyal and brave and... i... i feel like i could tell you absolutely anything and you’d never, ever judge me for any of it.”

“you’re my best friend, and if it weren’t for you i don’t know where i’d be right now. so... thank you for everything, ryuji.”

“what isn’t there to like about you? you’re classy, stylish, your flair for the dramatic is amazing... and your advice and guidance is always really, really helpful. an... an inspiration, really. i just... hope i can make you proud in turn. you trusted me with your power, so...”

“… ah, shit.”

he’s always wearing his heart on his sleeve. how could he not? he and hibiki have become so close. the twins have become so important to him. they understand him. tolerate him. they accept him. even with all of his baggage and bullshit he brings to the table, they still see the good in him.

… makes him think maybe he can eventually see some, too.

“… man, almost every day, i felt like givin’ up.” he stares into his bowl with an empty smile. there was sadness behind his eyes, but sincerity in his voice. “… i was just tired of lettin’ everyone walk all over me. lettin’ people walk all over others. that bastard kamoshida. i…”

his fists clench, chopsticks threatening to snap in his hand. but when hibiki leaves himself out of the equation, his hand relaxes, and he points his eyes towards his companion.

“… yeah, she is, but. so are you, y’know? hitomi’s great… she’s been there, but… so have you, dude. i mean, hell, she’s one of my best friends but there’s some things i can’t tell her, y’know? and that’s what i got you for. wait - no, no, that… i don’t think that came out right.”

laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. “… what i’m sayin’, dude,” hand then moves, resting on hibiki’s shoulder. “… is that i’m just really glad you guys came around, when ya did. things were kinda hopeless, but… you changed that.”

   you watch ryuji carefully while he talks. the way he stares into his own bowl forlornly, the way his fingers tense around the chopsticks in his half so tightly they just might snap... and you swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to pull your best friend into a tight hug and never let go. ... the only reason you don’t is that you’re in public, and suddenly hugging the guy in public out of nowhere like that would be... attention grabbing. you don’t want to cause trouble for ryuji, not while he’s so... so... sincere and vulnerable.

   you can relate to how he felt before you and hitomi moved out to tokyo, too. you’d protested, over and over again, that knocking that man over was an accident; all the two of you had wanted to do was separate him from the lady... that she called for help when she saw you. if nothing else, at least you’d hoped they’d believe your sister had nothing to do with it... your pleas had gone unheard. your school’s faculty expelled you both. mom and dad were shamed and called bad parents by anyone who didn’t know them personally-- hell, even some of their coworkers had hopped on the bandwagon. 

   and to top it all off? the state provided attorney... he didn’t care at all, either. he spent that entire trial trying to convince the judge you were just idiot kids who meant well but misinterpreted the situation and didn’t know how to stay out of other people’s business. the judge had agreed, lessening your sentence in turn. a trip to juvie became a year of probation.

   ( you remember your mom’s face after coming home from the clinic the night after the trial as clear as day; how utterly worn out and heartbroken she’d looked... and then later seeing on tv that the news had actually chased her down and forced her to publicly apologize for her delinquent children. )

   but this isn’t about you. you’re about to respond and tell ryuji that he did his best and you were proud of him for hanging in there for as long as he did, but...

   oh.

   apparently it is, at least partially, about you.

   cheeks flush slightly -- and when his hand rests on your shoulder, that pale pink tinting your cheeks blooms into a fierce crimson. you’re not sure how to respond for a moment, heart hammering against your chest so hard you’re not entirely sure you can contain it anymore. a gentle warmth flows through you at the contact, and you actually have to find your words all over again; your brain practically short-circuited at ryuji’s touch. in a good way. you think.

   a hand comes to fiddle with your bangs awkwardly, and you manage a sheepish laugh. 

“i-- uh... t-thank you. that means a lot to me. i didn’t think...” that your presence was valued so much. not when you’ve always been in radiant, confident, shining hitomi’s shadow. but then... you’ve been changing, lately. and... ryuji’s to thank for that, isn’t he? “i’m really glad we moved out here, too. we were... we were actually supposed to move to our grandparents’ for the year. did i ever tell you that? stuff came up, so ma-- my mom’s friend got into contact with sakura-san and worked something out.”

‘it’s so weird. it’s like looking in a mirror, only... we’re pretty different, now that i think of it. maybe one of those carnival mirrors?’

‘that’s the plan.’ 

   you strum the ukelele gently, watching hitomi, ryuji and ann have a splash war from your place under a palm tree. not far from there, yusuke is framing his latest source of inspiration with his fingers; no doubt trying to find the most interesting composition for a sketch or painting... mishima’s resting on a bench with a drink near makoto, kawakami-sensei, and that senpai with the floppy hat, no-doubt worn out from the day spent in the hawaiian sun... 

   the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore, the gentle breeze, and waft of salt in the air causes your eyes to drift shut, a smile quirking your lips upwards. you wonder if you could play k.k. bossa from memory; it’s... a lame thought to have crossed your mind, especially while arsene’s decided to keep you company, but you decide you want to try. 

‘not just for myself, though. everyone deserves the chance to know this kind of peace... we’ll have a lot of work cut out for us when we go back to japan, y’know. we should enjoy this break while we can.’

    you settle into comfortable silence, attention entirely having shifted to working out that elusive melody. this... this place truly is paradise...

‘will kawakami-sensei really be alright carrying on like this? i’m... really worried. i’ll ask hitomin if we can call her over tonight. she deserves a nap...’

writing hibiki genuinely angry is fun because he’s... just not... an angry person?

well i mean, yes, he is, he has a lot of reason to be angry about things, but-- a lot of that anger is channeled into something productive. his music, stealing hearts... something. he tries very hard not to let himself wallow or get swept away by anger? it clouds your judgment and makes you irrational. as a leader ( or the leader’s brother and second in command ), he can’t afford being irrational.