#unwritten

Even though you’re a sunny girl — sometimes even too much, with that smile that can melt even the coldest hearts — you’ve always had your down moments.

Aaah... moments?

Who are we kidding — the truth is, your life has always been a mess.

You learned early how to live with yourself. To fill the emptiness with passions, friends, anything that could distract you. You numbed yourself. All it took was five minutes alone for your mind to start running, spinning. And spinning. And spinning. Even when everything seemed fine, even when you were happy — or at least, thought you were — you always found a way to hurt yourself. Silently, without letting anyone see. Overthinking? You didn’t even know what that really meant. Maybe you were just too used to bad thoughts to live without them.

And yet, even the longest night eventually gives in to dawn.

You weren’t alone.

Not always, at least.

Not as long as Ryota was around.

You and Ryota have known each other for years — so many that you’ve lost count. He had just moved from Okinawa to Kanagawa, and you met him at the usual basketball court, the one you used to go to with Mitsui, who’d been in elementary school with your brother. You still remember the first time you saw him: a white t-shirt drenched in sweat, that focused gaze, the ball bouncing rhythmically against the asphalt. He radiated anger.

At first, Ryota didn’t want to deal with anyone. He was closed off, wary, with that look of someone who’s always had to fend for himself — like a coyote.

And you, with that disarming curiosity of yours, just couldn’t keep still or quiet.

You had to find out more.

And so, even though you were a shy kid, you found the courage to approach him. It was that rainy afternoon that changed everything: he refused to stop practicing, furious at the world, and you — stubborn, hard-headed — decided to wait for him until he was done. You stayed there, under the rain, until he agreed to let you walk him home. He didn’t say a word, but something in him melted. From that day on, he began to open up to you. Slowly, like someone afraid of getting hurt again.

But from that day on, he never left your side.

He followed you everywhere: to the court, to the konbini, to school, even to comic conventions where he’d pretend to be bored but was secretly having the time of his life watching you get excited. He joined the basketball club because of you, and from that moment, he never left you alone. If you were there, he was there. Your presence reassured him. It reminded him he didn’t always have to survive on his own.

But no matter what, Ryota was still Ryota — and trouble was always right around the corner. Like the time he tried his first — and probably last — cigarette, or when he quit basketball because he’d lost his motivation, or when he got into a fight with Mitsui. And then, the motorcycle accident. That day, you really thought you’d lose him. But you didn’t. Not as long as you were there to help him back up, to remind him he still had a road ahead.

Without even realizing it, you grew up together.

You’ve just recently graduated high school, saying goodbye forever to Shohoku and all the good memories it gave you. Takenori was so proud to know that the basketball club led by Ryota had won the Nationals: the new captain had kept his promise to the old one. And that really comforted him, because if there was anyone in the world devoted enough to basketball to risk his life on the court, it was Ryota.

Or well, maybe Takenori used to be, but that’s another story.

There was something about him that kind of scared you: he was always calm. Even when he had to lead a whole team full of difficult people, Ryota would do anything to keep them fired up. And you know why. Even though his biggest goal was to defeat the unbeatable Sannoh and fulfill his brother Sota’s dream, Ryota never gave up. After that victory, he just kept on playing.

You admired him. Always from the stands, always next to Haruko, your voice hoarse from shouting his name. You’d come up with any excuse to be there: skipping classes, risking bad grades — but it didn’t matter. You had to be there. You had to show him that you were there, by his side, like always.

Your friendship... was never easy to define. You’re not siblings. You’re not just friends. You’re something deeper, a bond no one dares to mess with. Most of your friends tease you two, calling you “lovebirds” and whatnot. Ryota doesn’t seem to mind, and he always takes the chance to tease you back. You, on the other hand, get a little embarrassed. But deep down, being associated with him that way doesn't sound too bad — and you know it.

After all, Ryota’s the boy of your life.

────୨ৎ────

Today hasn’t been a good day. Actually, it’s been one of those days that stick to you — heavy and slimy — even after a shower. You’ve been trying to feel something — anything — by going out with different guys, convincing yourself that a glance, a touch, a body close to yours might light something up inside you again. But it always ends the same way: the silence after dinner, the darkness of your room, and you crying into your pillow like an idiot.

“I can’t,” you tell yourself. “I just can’t fall in love.”

When you finally get home, you don’t even go into the living room. You take off your shoes, drop your bag in the hallway, and without turning on the lights, you walk through the garden toward the shed.

The shed. Your place. Your place — his and yours.

It’s small, a bit messy, but it’s the one place you feel safe. Inside, there’s everything: old deflated basketballs, vinyl crates, comic books, torn posters of matches, and a framed photo of you and Ryota. You hung it up years ago. His towel is still tossed over a chair, forgotten who knows when, and that chipped mug he used for iced tea in the summer.

Everything in there speaks of you two.

As soon as you walk in, the smell of wood wraps around you. It’s familiar, warm, calming. You sit on the old couch by the window — the one you’ve slept on so many times when you couldn’t stay in the house — and let the world fade into silence. Outside, the wind barely stirs the leaves. Inside, there’s only you.

And yet, in that solitude, you don't feel completely alone.

Because every corner of that shed is a memory of him.

That’s where you saw him laugh for the first time, when he was teaching you to dribble and you kept tripping. That’s where you spent entire nights talking about dreams, fears, and the future, while the neon light flickered and the mosquitoes drove you mad. That’s where he hugged you — that night when you were falling apart — without saying a word. Just his arms and his calm breathing.

And now you’re here again. With the same lump in your throat, the same urge to run away and stay at the same time.

You grab your phone. You stare at it for a while, without unlocking it. Then you do, almost automatically. You scroll through your contacts, but you already know where you’ll end up.

- hey ryo

- yo

u good?

- lol no

not even close

- again huh

need me already?

- don’t be an idiot

can u come over?

- getting dressed rn

thank anna

shes covering for me

pissed mom off too many times this week

You turn off your phone and wait for him there, like a little kid craving attention. That’s what you become when Ryota’s around: every gesture from him feels like a caress, and he always knows exactly what you need. Every single time. You often wonder why he wastes so much of his time on a wanderer like you. But in the end, it’s always been part of what you have — that mutual rescue, when both of you just want to disappear from the world.

A few minutes later, the door opens. Ryota steps in quietly, trying not to make any noise so the neighbors don’t complain. He’s wearing loose sweatpants and a black hoodie, his usual backward cap, and he’s carrying his old school backpack — the one he now uses whenever he comes here, to the shed.

“Knock knock...” his voice fills the silence almost instantly. He closes the door behind him, turns around, and spots you curled up on the couch. He raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“Rough one, huh?” He walks up to you, sits down on the couch with his legs spread and one arm wrapping around your shoulders naturally, pulling you against his chest. “Shoot,” he whispers, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

You smile instantly — this is the comfort you needed. Every time you two drift apart, you forget it. And then he comes back, persistent, to remind you again and again. You snuggle closer, accepting his invitation, and in a faint voice you whisper, turning serious again. “Remember that guy I told you about?”

He looks at you and nods. “Hm, that nerd who wouldn’t stop staring at you? I was there —“

You cut him off. “Let me finish, idiot. So, yeah, we saw each other today. He took me out to dinner and, swear to God, he was so sweet. He even insisted on paying — ugh, I’m not used to that...”

Ryota chuckles. “I pay for your food.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you do, sometimes, but I’m not talking about you. Anyway, after dinner we went back to his place. One thing led to another and we ended up having sex, but I...” you stop. You stare into nothing, your voice dropping with every word. Then his hand moves your hair aside, gently encouraging you to go on. And you do. “I... didn’t feel anything. Absolute nothingness, you know? So he noticed, started spiraling like ‘don't you like me?’, but how do I tell him that I just can’t fall in love? God, I hate myself.”

You both stay quiet for a while. Even though Ryota’s completely different from you, he’s never really fallen in love either. But for him, it’s a choice, for you, it’s not — and he knows that. So he never compares your situations. Instead, he strokes your cheek and sighs softly. “Aaah... maybe you should just stop looking for the love of your life. Why are you so obsessed with it?”

Even if his words sting a little, he’s right — and you know it. You look at him with your tired eyes. “I don’t know... I just want to feel what everyone else feels.”

Ryota smiles softly. “Everyone except you and me.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re a fucking idiot who doesn’t want to. I just can’t. It’s different,” you snap, looking away, slightly annoyed. He takes the chance and leans in closer. The closeness doesn’t bother you — actually, it warms you. After all, you’re used to it.

“Don’t know which one of us is worse,” he murmurs. Then he presses his forehead against your temple and keeps going, “but either way, we’re both idiots.”

You feel his warm breath tickling your ear, his hand stroking your body from shoulder to waist, his eyes locked on you.

And no matter how much you lie to yourself, your body can’t help but react.

You’ve always thought Ryota was handsome. And you’ve even told him, a few times. But friends do that, right? And yet, what you feel when he’s this close to you, or when he’s holding you on top of him on his bed, or when he hugs you after a game, still sweaty... no one else has ever made you feel that. That mix of butterflies and heat.

“It’s normal,” you tell yourself. You’ve always felt that ache in your stomach. Since the first time you saw him.

And since right now all you want is to be with him, without thinking about anything else, you push those thoughts away. Like you always do.

But you won’t be able to ignore them forever.

You keep your gaze down and press closer to him, your hand caressing his arm from under the blanket. “Two idiots, huh? Maybe.” You let out a bitter little laugh.

That’s when Ryota pulls back slightly, frowning.

“Hey,” he takes your chin in his hand, just tight enough to make you lift your eyes to meet his, “are we gonna wake the hell up or what? You didn’t fall in love after sleeping with a guy you’ve known for, what, two weeks? Big fucking deal. At least was he any good?”

He can’t help but smirk, and you follow, laughing under your breath. You nod. “Yeah, I guess. But I’ve had better.”

At that point Ryota bursts out laughing, shaking his head and burying his face between your neck and shoulder. “Shit, then you really struck out, huh...”

Then he pulls back. “Come on, champ. I brought Kingdom Hearts. Wanna play?”

You watch him get up from the couch — the emptiness you feel when he’s not next to you almost scares you. “Nah, I’d rather watch. I know you’re dying to play it anyway.”

Ryota chuckles, bending over to dig through his backpack. “Fuck it. Sometimes I forget how well you know me.”

────୨ৎ────

Watching him play while you’re curled up against him, blanket pulled up to your chin, gives you a sense of peace that’s impossible to describe, impossible to recreate. More often than not, your gaze drifts toward him: the dim light of the old TV glows faintly across his profile, his brows drawn together in focus, eyes darting quickly — just like his fingers gripping the joystick. You can even hear his breathing. He’s so handsome, you catch yourself thinking, and immediately curse under your breath. As if it were the first time, anyway.

“Ahh, fuck! I almost had it! Did you see that?” His frustrated voice snaps you out of your forbidden thoughts, dragging you back to reality. You blink a few times.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, what a pain.”

You definitely didn’t see a thing. How can he expect you to focus on his gameplay when he’s this close?

────୨ৎ────

The TV’s been off for a while now. You’re both curled up on the couch again, only this time you’ve stretched out. Your head rests on his chest, just below his, and you can clearly hear the steady beat of his heart. His arm idly brushes against yours, and suddenly, he lets out a small snort. He grabs his phone. “It’s late. I should head out soon.”

You groan softly, shaking your head against him. “Mmh, I don’t want you to go...” you whisper, cheeks faintly flushed, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Ryota can’t help but smile too, his fingers tightening slightly around your arm. “Clingy, huh? God, it’s been a while since you acted like this.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but decide to tease him back instead. “Come on, you like being like this with me.”

He chuckles, clearly amused by your boldness — but not surprised. He knows you can keep up with him. “Smart mouth. Yeah, you’re right,” he stretches, resting his chin on the top of your head, a lazy grin spreading across his face, “especially after a shitty day like today.”

You frown slightly, tilting your head just enough to catch his expression. “Hm? What happened?”

Ryota glances down at you, your faces now dangerously close. His tone softens a little. “Nothing special. Just my mom getting pissed ‘cause I still haven’t picked a college.”

You let out a small laugh — you know how strict his mother can be. But you get it; you’re in the same boat. So, to lighten the mood, you poke at him. “Yeah, I get it. You’re too busy thinking about basketball or hanging out with random girls.”

The smile returns to his face, his eyes never leaving yours. Then he shakes his head. “Nah, I haven’t done that in a while.”

For some reason, that catches you off guard. Then you arch a brow, skeptical.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess I just don’t feel like it.”

“You? Miyagi Ryota? Impossible.”

“Maybe someone’s been keeping me too busy.”

Your breath hitches. Then you shoot back,

“Maybe you’re not obliged to hang around that someone.”

He smirks.

“How could I not? It’s what I want.”

That’s too much. You might know how to keep up with him, but when he whispers things like that just a breath away, your face heats up instantly. You lower your head, hiding it against him as a triumphant grin curls on his lips. He’s won — and to celebrate, he takes it a step further, lifting your chin with two fingers until you’re forced to look at him. Your lips are once again inches apart.

He’s so good at playing with me, you think, because every time he acts like this, your heart bursts into flames. After all this time, Ryota knows exactly what drives you crazy.

But you know what he likes, too.

You pout, though you don’t break eye contact. Something in his gaze shifts. Then your voice comes out, a whisper. “You’re mean... always cornering me like this...”

That cocky, confident smirk on his face falters for a second, replaced by something nervous. He quickly recovers, raising a brow but keeping close. “Cornering you, huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

His calm tone slices through the silence. You smile, barely holding yourself together. Your breaths are already mingling, your eyes locked like they’ve forgotten how to look anywhere else. “Wouldn’t you like to know...” you whisper again, knowing that your fake innocence drives him insane.

You notice his gaze flicker between your lips and your eyes a few times, and that’s all it takes for your resolve to crack. Your cheeks have been pink for a while now, but your eyes widen just a little — and he notices. A smirk tugs at his mouth. “You don’t know how to play. Not with me, anyway,” he murmurs.

And then, he leans in.

When he does, your little fortress of confidence collapses. His head tilts slightly, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing. The hand holding your face now moves, his thumb tracing your jaw with a touch so gentle it steals the breath from your lungs. For all his confidence, Ryota always touches you like you’re made of glass — as if he’s afraid he might break you.

His eyes lock with yours. You can’t look away — you’re frozen, utterly captivated by him. He’s never gone this far before. And deep down, you know you can’t resist him.

When your gaze drops to his lips, a soft laugh escapes him, bursting the silent bubble of tension between you.

“I’m just messing with you, dummy. You almost fell for it this time, huh?”

He pulls away, and your eyes widen instantly. Oh. Right. He was just teasing. Of course he was. So why is your heart racing so fast? Why does it hurt a little? Why does it feel like you were hoping for something else?

Before you can say anything, Ryota stands up, leaving behind a void you can feel. “It’s late. I’m heading home. See you in a few days.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You can’t even string together a coherent thought — he’s scrambled your brain completely. When your eyes meet, you force a small smile, pretending nothing happened. You nod quickly, muttering something like, “Okay, see you,” on autopilot.

You watch in silence as he waves. “Sleep well,” he murmurs, giving you a warm smile before closing the door behind him.

The moment you’re alone, you collapse back onto the couch cushions, face burning, heart racing like you’ve just finished a marathon. Your mind still hasn’t fully processed what just happened, but your body reacts anyway — and God, it leaves you so confused, so small compared to him and the quiet confidence he carries in himself.

“He really just left me like that... after that?”

────୨ৎ────

The next day, you try your best to ignore the fact that you barely slept last night because you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like some kind of curse, Ryota haunted your mind for hours — over and over again, replaying what you said to each other, how you touched, how close your faces got until it drove you completely insane.

I shouldn’t feel like this, you keep telling yourself, trying to convince your own brain that whatever this is, it’s not real. But you can’t help it — he’s the only one who knows how to play you like a damn puppet. And the worst part? You don’t even mind.

You’ve been pushing that thought away for ages, pretending you’ll deal with it tomorrow. And in the meantime, you’ve just been enjoying this perfect friendship — heart flutters and all. Except, those flutters have always left you confused. And the way he acted yesterday? It messed you up so bad you’re not even sure who you are right now.

“What the hell am I supposed to do? I never even told him how I feel...” you mumble under your breath, curled up in bed. The cool May breeze drifts through the open window, brushing your skin and making you shiver. You sigh, dragging yourself up to close it, but as you pull the curtains shut, you hear your phone buzz on the mattress behind you.

Your eyes widen. Your heart skips a beat. You grab your phone — one message. Then two. Then three.

Of course. It’s him.

- check what i sent u

shits hilarious

also why u ghostin me since this morning

A fourth one pops up.

- yooo bitchhh

Great, you think. Why does facing your best friend suddenly feel so terrifying? The way he’s pretending nothing happened annoys you more than it should. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He always does.

Another ping. A fifth message.

- usually when u act like this u mad at me or sum?

That one gets you. Your fingers move before your brain can stop them.

- no im not mad

just

what the hell was that thing yesterday?

- what thing?

“Oh, now he’s playing dumb,” you mutter.

- are u tryna piss me off?

come on

u were this close

- and u didnt seem to mind

did u??

Your pulse spikes. But you can’t stop typing.

- you re wrong

you confuse me ryota

He takes a second to reply. You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose — to torture you — or if he’s actually thinking about it.

- now im confusing u huh?

we ve been like this for

idk

forever

we re friends

As much as you hate to admit it, Ryota is right. But not completely. That’s enough to give you the courage to fire back.

- do friends act like that??

- tf did u just wake up or smth lol

we ve always been kinda weird

u never complained

neither did i

i like how we are

You lock your phone and hold your breath. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like your chest might actually explode. That image of him — so close — keeps flashing in your head, and your stomach twists into that painfully familiar warmth. You grab your phone again, exhaling shakily.

- dont you feel anything?

like... when you get that close or whatever

You panic and lock your phone again — but the reply comes almost instantly.

- wait so you do??

ayyy someone s catchin feelings

:))

“God, he’s so annoying,” you groan, flopping back onto your pillow, face on fire, lips in a pout. You don’t even know what to say. You’re too flustered to do anything.

And of course, Ryota knows that. Which is why he keeps going.

- anyway yeah

obviously

what about u

You blink, staring at the screen. Wait — what? Did Ryota just admit he feels something? Like, the same thing you’ve felt since the day you met him?

Now you need to know.

- idk how to describe it

its... weird??

but u make me feel warm

- lol

when were u gonna tell me that?

- no when were YOU gonna tell me

you act like its no big deal

- cause its not

but hey im human too

sooo maybe next time we just try it

Time stops.

Your heart is racing, your pulse wild, and even though he didn’t spell it out — you already know. Still, you play dumb. Because you can’t believe it.

- try what?

- kissing

And there it is.

You freeze. Your cheeks burn, your body feels hot, and your heart’s pounding so fast it hurts. After years of friendship, he just says something like that — like it’s nothing.

- u r not normal

what the fuck is wrong with you

- cmon why not

its just a test

- are you serious??

dont even joke about that

- bet ur all red right now

lol fine i ll stop

cant have u fainting on me

You can’t even bring yourself to reply.

This conversation doesn’t feel real — and yet there it is, glowing white on your phone screen. You lock it and toss it across the bed, as if putting distance between you and that device could somehow help you figure out what the hell is going on. You pull the covers up until only your eyes are visible — wide open, unblinking. Meanwhile, your heart won’t slow down, hammering hard against your ribs, and the anxiety bubbling in your chest feels nothing like the usual swarm of butterflies.

Ryota said “kissing”.

Why did he say that? Why would he bring up something like that? And most of all, where was he even trying to go with it? Does he actually want to kiss me? you think — and immediately shake your head, pushing the thought away because it’s ridiculous. He’s obviously messing with you. That’s just... you two. That’s what you do. So why does it feel different this time? Why does it feel real?

He’s never talked that openly about kissing you — never crossed that line in words. Sure, he’s teased you before, pushed your buttons until you wanted to scream, but right after, he’d always find a way to make it up to you. Because yeah, Ryota loves to mess with you — but even more than that, he loves taking care of you.

It almost feels like it isn’t Ryota. Or maybe it’s just a side of him you’ve never seen before.

And it’s throwing you off — badly. You can’t tell if he’s just trying to mess around... or if he actually meant it. If he really wants to kiss you.

And if he does... would you let him?

You don’t even know the answer to that yourself.

As exciting as the thought might be, fear and common sense hit harder. He’s your best friend. Always has been. You care about him more than you’ve ever cared about anyone else. You’ve shared everything together: your firsts, your screw-ups, your teenage chaos, school drama, family messes, breakdowns, wins, losses — all of it. So much that if you tried to write it all down, you’d still be scribbling by the time you hit retirement.

You know he cares about you too. You’re his everything — the person who’s always there, the one he runs to when things fall apart, the one he trusts with every piece of himself.

No matter how many times you fight, you always end up in each other’s arms again, too stubborn to properly apologize, because you don’t need to. You just... get it. You love each other. For real. You’re practically made for each other — a perfectly tangled, platonic love that people envy. Almost sibling-like... or maybe even more precious than that.

There’s not a single day you don’t think of each other. Not a single moment when you actually want to be apart. You’re each other’s light, each other’s constant. You need him as much as he needs you — and that’s just how it’s always been.

So would you really risk all of that...

for one stupid kiss?