MUSE / Ryuji Sakamoto - Tumblr Posts

@buddymuses // for Yui!

the city thrummed with a heightened life.

a living, concrete thing, of pavement and movement and a kind of energy that Ryuji knows, deep down, that he must've embodied somewhere along growing up and into it. he knows it in the way his footfalls almost align with something in the solid ground, or maybe that's just a byproduct of living here the way he has, or the way that the floor of Palaces always feel warped — unreal in a way he can't describe, and often tries not to — so the ground he grew up walking became something 'other', tied into the something living that Palaces were.

he still knew the city better, a roadmap in his mind to every vein in the block & how he might've been chased down half of them, even if he didn't know most of the people that gave it that second heartbeat inside. maybe that's part of it, when finding a back exit from the school, easy to slip off when everyone knew not to bother with boys like him, that he'd stumble into — almost knock over — a kid he didn't recognize, half hidden in the space behind the school.

“Hey-! what the hell's your deal—?!” is the initial response that leaves him, mouth always faster than his mind, but the scene hits him second — the girl no older than 11 at best, 9 at worst, a stressed thing in the shadow of the building as if it was intentioned, a mother holding a panicked child under the crook of its arm in the high daylight of noon, neglectful in the preventing of the fear but oh so willing to shelter in the overwhelming of it

it'd take Ryuji time to realize that, in part, that might've been true. his good intentions genuine on the face of the cool metal fencing. you can see him backpedal on expression alone, how obvious he was, how blatant.

he felt, suddenly, like quite the jerk ; or maybe just the fool. maybe that's just what he got for being so fast on the draw.

“I mean—” mind scrambling for something, tone less harsh than before when the initial was one prepared for someone different, someone worse. maybe she got lost? she doesn't look like she's from around here, not adorned in the uniform he's so accustomed to, and in turn accustomed to breaking: why else—? “uh, sorry, didn't mean to snap, you.. alright?”

he was never really good at knowing just what to say. where was Ren when you really needed him…?

don't look at him like that he's just a little guy would you judge a little guy on his birthday ( it is not his birthday )

" O-oh- No, man! I know when my birthday is I don't━ I'm good━━ " ( quickly googling 'help i tricked my friend into thinking i'm ill what do i do' )

don't look at him like that he's just a little guy would you judge a little guy on his birthday ( it is not his birthday )

" I'm not frantic! I'm chill as a c━ " Ryuji finds himself reeling back from the hand without thinking as he talks before hearing the request, blinking for a moment in response, then a ( somewhat reluctant ) defeat at the convincing notion that it'd soothe Yusuke to find that contact, just incase.

" If you gotta " he meets Yusuke's hand midway, almost on his tip-toes to reach a little easier ( jeez, who let him be so tall? )

" . . . and, yet, you appear to be a tad frantic. " He reaches a palm forward, with the intent to set it against Ryuji's forehead. " May I ? Just to confirm to put my mind at ease. "

@tenebriism // ryuji & yusuke!

Maybe he was right. ━ Right. in the way there was no maybe about it. He knew better. Ryuji wasn't stupid like that. He knew where his limits laid, claws in the sand, unregretful of their own existence like he at times wished they would be, and thus was on their behalf. He knew what was not enough and what was too much, pushing became shoving became something else ( something he doesn't like to talk about. Something that keeps finding him. )

but Ryuji's always been stubborn ━ it's just that this time, maybe it wasn't just being stubborn ( that something else conjuring a byproduct; hands heavy enough to be cruel, only to himself. only to himself. )

Claws in the sand, wishing he was more than he was, pushing then shoving then falling; being caught. being told something he knew, but wouldn't listen to. Slowing down.

Slowing down. Slow down.

Ryuji takes the time as Yusuke talks to catch his breath, chest heaving with a greater weight than it should, two times his size. convulses in relapsing effort to get enough air to the rest of him ( almost lightheaded ). a body rebelling against itself when pushed too far; one leg shaking that ripples throughout him as if a reminder of the consequence, a scar like a lightening strike across his knee back and along to his calf ━ visible at the hem of gym shorts as if reaching up to meet the fabric in familiarity of a time where it was born, and then revoked from.

” No, Yusuke, I just━ I needed━ “ the sentence dies, half focused on in its utterance in the first place, the attention cut then tapered. he finds himself white knuckling a support as his breathing begins to even out.

his entire body quakes with the intensity of that consequence, a vital support refusing the pushing to be pushed too far, refusing the criteria of its creation to be met twice. the scar; an ugly reminder. he finds himself staring at it as Yusuke speaks, hunched, kneecap shuddering as if given its own mind and the tendons down his calf like guitar strings in conviction of the same cause, before his attention gathers itself back to Yusuke when he begins to pull something from his bag ( confusion, then surprise. how often he forgets, how people love him. how they remember. )

his expression is not one of instant gratitude, or even of anger that spills from his shoulders into his collarbone and floods him, its indescribable, almost unnatural on his features ; Ryuji, always feeling in extremes, unable to solidify what he was feeling in the first place. ( This, too, was an extreme. you just didn't know the name of it. )

… the expression caves in on itself — 'softens', too romantic of a word — after a long moment to dissolve resolution and Ryuji limps, pain jolting up the back of his leg into the pelvis then echoing up his spine of which he understood better than anyone ever could, and he allows himself to — lacking grace — haphazardly drop into the spot assigned to him by Yusuke. His leg refuses to stop shaking despite the lack of pressure ( the pressure both was and was not the problem; always the strain. always the strain ; until it becomes too much. )

he feels pathetic like this, acid through steel, rust still creeping and eating at him. he tries to shake it off.

” Yeah. Thanks, Yusuke, I just… “ he trails off, and an unwillingness to admit what had driven him to extremes clumps in his throat like congealed blood from an old wound that wont close.

” I really want to be strong for the team. Guess I kinda got too in my head. I didn't mean to worry you or nothin'... Sorry... “

Ryuji's heart thundered in his ears.

As if a hundred careless nights of thunder that scarcely spooked him roiled in his blood instead, a retribution that choked his veins, momentum of adrenaline leaving him suddenly feeling too big for his body.

the glass from the street-light's shattered bulb spilled out when it crashed, all worn and bent metal of its holder that gleamed in the afternoon light, decorating the pavement with a glitter that would've been beautiful if not for the danger it posed; small shards angled towards Ryuji's shoes, as if the only thing between it and Naomi was him, and him alone. Perhaps not entirely true, but he finds himself kicking it away with a scraping sweep of his sole against the ground once or twice regardless, repelling it back & away to whence it came.

Ryuji brushes the small glass shards — almost dust-like — off of their uniform jacket, one he finds himself recognizing, but their ( understandable ) fear & shock is what brings his attention back, as if suddenly remembering the human language in a moment of all movement & adrenaline.

He doesn't even realize she's holding his hand until he finds himself aware of how it's climped awkwardly in position by theirs when he attempts to move it. He stiffens slightly, unexpecting it, but certainly not unwelcome. If you were attentive, you might be able to discern the distant attempt at a squeeze back despite the poise his fingers were caught in.

” What?! Hell no! I'd be freaking out way worse right now. you're pretty tame in response of almost getting damn guilotine'd by a light fixture-! “ Ryuji's response is an honest one, but perhaps not the most comforting in word-choice. He brushes the remains off her shoulders

” Jeez! Maitenance in Shibuya sucks. You could've gotten really hurt- Ah— “ the hand that'd been sweeping off the debris stalls itself, concern taking over his features

” You okay, by the way? No glass or metal shit hit you or anything? ”

@quillheel | SAFEGUARD : for one muse to save the other from being hit by a vehicle or from some other life-threatening event. // from ryuji! persona verse!

She felt a strong shove pushing her, what could have happened to her was that she could have been hit by a falling street light. This wasn’t an average moment in her life; this was different, seeing a serious injury could have happened to her.

Made her become stiff.

“I… give me a second.” Without even thinking, her first action was to hold Ryuji’s hand without a single thought in her mind and held it.

“Thank you… that was so dumb of me to not pay attention. Um… sorry I’m overreacting to this aren’t I?”

There's a familiarity, there, in the way he knows that fear — that panic.

the way it tangles in you, squeezing, a compression act of who can flee or pass out trying. he understood it best in the aftermath, when they'd begun to hate him, all casts & crutches & full of blame, blame for a thing that wasn't right — that he knew wasn't right — but still thrown under the bus for until he begun to believe he deserved it. the vice-grip of a python and an escape artist, the snake so much bigger, so much more than you; one, a master, the other; a child.

a child. she was just a little girl— shit, those were tears, weren't they? what's wrong, what's—

it takes a moment for the words to cut through the confusion and the guilt in Ryuji, a spoon through thick ice — he notices the barren skin of the exposed arm like a discolored marionette painted by ages and endurances it should not have faced, decorated in paints that were not paints but dyed the wood anyhow; dyed the flesh.

it reminds him of the way his leg had been for weeks after breaking it, the bruising and angry inflamed blood vessels creeping up and out of the cast as if seeking a revenge it couldn't have in its mending, where even its healing was that born of rage. the way the bruises were mottled and ugly and refused to die for longer than they should've, something he'd in his painkiller delirium feared to be permanent. — it wasn't, only the scars were.

” You don't gotta- Jeez, do you need to go to a hospital or something-?? “ Ryuji's words were brazen, blunt to the point of injury if he was unlucky; often, he was ” Did you get your arm caught on something-? “

He peers around, lean body bending in efforts to see where she'd came from. Scuffs of shoe toes on concrete, fabric caught on metal, anything; anything at all. after a moment he remembers, seeing a flock of students a little ways away headed towards the school in a hurry, where exactly they are.

” Uh— “ he starts, articulation failing him to convey where she is ; and perhaps, where would be better to go. He's… still trying to figure the latter half out when he opens his mouth.

thump-thump-thump. yui’s heart beats as fast as her legs move, perhaps even ten times quicker. her speedy footfalls on sidewalks add to the drumming symphony of her retreat: heart pounding in her ears, shoes slamming against concrete, head down, body moving to pull her far, far away.

the girl grabs the strap of her bookbag tightly with her right hand, gripping it in sheer defiance—you can’t make me do anything!—as she weaves through crowds. advantages of being one-point-two meters in stature: it makes hiding easier, it makes squeezing into small areas easier, and it makes it so she can weave through crowds like a red thread through a needle.

never mind her butchered string wants to tug yui back toward her other, yearning desperately to be embraced in her arm so yui could cry. but she can’t go back, not now—not when she could do something horrible once again.

those thoughts make her run faster. everything weaves by in a blur until she finds herself near the back-area of some building. yui doesn’t know where she is, but the cold concrete and metallic guards are a respite. there is calm in the chaotic air. since she doesn’t know anyone well enough to taste their stress… it’s muddled. she can block it out easier. she can fight it.

yui pins her hands to the side of her head, squeezing her eyes shut. the pressure in her chest squirms and writhes, a part of her that so desperately wants to bask in the pain of others. it’s foreign yet familiar, and she hates it!

sudden sharp words shake her to attention immediately. yui’s brown eyes blow wide, the child scrambling to move away a a meter or so. she stands on shaky feet, lowering her head and makes herself small, because if she’s small enough maybe she can hide.

then the teen trips over his tongue and recedes his rebuke. yui stays in her turtle-shell posture, body trembling, before she registers that she’s asked a question. she lifts her head to look at the other. she has to answer. her throat is dry and her glove covering her stained arm is gone. she has to answer.

“i-i…”

speech isn’t coming to her. she shouldn’t be here. it’s the same feeling she had when mr. kotowari’s looming presence hovered over her—an unspoken whisper of YOU SHOULD NOT BE, because she was dead and she was endangering haruhi by existing and mr. kotowari would snip her in half and—!

…

yui merely stands, shell-shocked, but the tears welling up in her eyes likely provide enough of an answer. the girl’s breaths are unstable. she tries to back up, but it’s hard to move her feet. pale panic frames her face, yui the portrait of a schoolgirl who’s terrified by far more than accidentally trespassing.

and yet… and yet… she tries to sound composed, calm, and decisive.

“i-i’m terribly s-sorry!” yui tries to offer an apologetic bow, but ends up grabbing the nearby fence to support herself—she looks about to faint. “i didn’t… realize i was trespassing, s-sir… i… i can… go.”

The lack of hesitation; the lack of doubt in his reassurances somehow agitates the wound worse, one in which he doesn't like to acknowledge is bleeding at all, infected & corrosive and a limb doomed to fail — it isn't. it's not there anymore, but it ripples throughout the rest of him ; pond water, the cruelty of breaking through the scum like a second skin, skipping rocks ; and leaves its effects regardless.

it might've been easier to believe you if you hesitated, if you had to think about it for a moment ( an agonizing moment of the judgement of what he's worth, pendulum swinging, swinging, swinging ), to concede that yes, he's strong. a reminder that he's human, maybe, in that. a reminder that 'strong' isn't all he is. a reminder that while these fears permeate and seep through his skin like water in paper, they are not as consuming as they must be now ━━━ turning his plight into an understandable one, an understood one, but still one they couldn't support.

━ he hates asking things of Yusuke, of the rest, of those he loves, so he doesn't ask. sitting with him like granite in his collarbone, lace & lined, just for him.

that stone gets heavier as the guilt sets in, sat on the floor next to Yusuke's chair, listening to the rustle of packaging & porcelain ━ he's right, Ryuji just takes it the wrong ways, too afraid of if he sweetens the deal too much that he poisons the pot he's eating from ; what would happen if he went too far, if he pushed and they were left without him? abandoning them in his selfish desperation? ryuji knew well that they were strong, unimaginably ( more than him ), but he also knew that it could be the deciding factor in a fight: who was there, who did what, and when.

the granite cracks loose from his collarbone, weighing him down with a slouch worsening as if being pushed down by the shoulders, and falls instead into the pit of his stomach. ( already full up on fears & the consequences of them, sorry, he's not hungry )

” you… “ Ryuji's heart takes a moment to shift its footing in his throat, out of the way: let him speak, please, let him speak ━ he scratches at the back of his neck, clammy with sweat ” .. yeah, you're right. I just wanted to get better, you know? help out a little more when we need it. I'm… not the most versatile guy. “

he accepts the towel & water with a note of surprise & a 'thank you', which bleeds into fondness. the granite lessens, these little acts of kindness, these little efforts to make it easier, eroding some of it in him. an appetite for that kind of love, he just keeps filling up on guilt instead.

Ryuji scrubs at his face with the towel as if to scrape off the feeling that drove him here in the first place ( too stubborn to leave, but a touch better now. a sweeter marble of care in the deposits of something other that drove him insane ), face emerging pinker than it was before, splashes some of the water on his face before taking a drink from the bottle.

his curious eyes give way on their internal battle for just a moment to glance at the noodles cooking in the bowl ( okay, maybe he was hungry )

” ... also, uh.. why'd you just have that on you? ” he wasn't complaining—!

Yusuke, too, knows he is correct, and he needn't verbally reiterate it; Ryuji, evidently, was doing it FOR him in the way his body was fully RETALIATING against his stubbornness. The athlete's resolve was admirable, COMMENDABLE--- truly, the extent to which they ALL pushed themselves to meet their goals, to achieve their dreams, was deserving of the highest praise imaginable, but what GOOD would it do ANY of them if it landed them a spot in the hospital ?

It's precisely why Yusuke has endeavored to improve his OWN habits, and why he's being a tad PUSHY when it comes to looking after his FRIENDS ( friends ? Not something he thought he'd ever have. It makes it all the more critical that he does this . . . that he takes CARE of them. ) Instead of sitting in the background, observing, too afraid to speak up with how USED to being drowned out and overshadowed, he was, now . . . now ? He's taking the mic HIMSELF.

" You are strong, Ryuji, " Yusuke reassures near immediately, fixing his attention on tearing the lid off the bowl of noodles instead of making Ryuji UNCOMFORTABLE with his gaze ( but Yusuke can tell, even without examining Ryuji like he's some painting with open interpretation hanging in a museum, that he is not in the best condition. Thank goodness Ryuji hadn't been ALONE. )

" In fact, from my recollections of our battles, you are one of the strongest on our team. So, what would you expect us to do WITHOUT you, should you find yourself incapacitated by your own overexertion ? We would be tragically at a disadvantage. " His voice is so gentle, that it seems to wage war for dominance over the rustling of the ramen seasonings, as Yusuke begins to pour, first, the dehydrated vegetables, and then the powdered broth. Sure, it was no AUTHENTIC ramen, but when one was on a budget ( or, a budget spent too heavily on art supplies and statement pieces ), this may as well be the equivalent of a gourmet meal.

He pulls himself up from his seat, long legs carrying him over to the kettle to pour the steaming hot water into the cup. With the noodles now set to gradually soften and cook, it gave Yusuke a chance to somewhat cautiously tend to Ryuji's condition, but . . . with a slow, considerate approach. A damp towel, to start, with cold water that he hoped may aid the rising temperature of his body, and of course, a bottle of water for hydration. It would do him no good to receive a bowl of hot, somewhat SPICY noodles without moderating his temperature first.

" Here. Drink, and rest. Breathe. Your noodles will be ready soon enough. "

When her expression changes to one of surprise, smile vanishing, Ryuji can't help the pang of worry in his stomach that he did something wrong.

Maybe he did, a part of him murmured, you did just make a scene then proceed to ask if she wanted clothing coupons in public, you know? Maybe that'd be embarrassing for her, both in the ways of her disliking such attentions; her efforts to keep her head down royally dashed by sheer virtue of her befriending of him, not to mention the metaverse as a whole; and in the ways of what thoughts it might inspire. ( while Ryuji hadn't first known, hadn't first realized, the concept passed right by him entire until pointed out with pen and paper like an assignment he missed the date for; how many others shared that first unawareness? how many other people would judge her for it? their peers so often tore her apart as it is, a feeling Ryuji was so familiar with. was this feeding the vultures? was it baiting them in? if not appearance in one way, then they would always find another. they would always find something different, they would always find something. )

for a split second, his center of gravity shuddered just enough to make his nerves feel shaken, and he tries not to look too worried. it was just surprise, and if she did turn it down, really turned it down, he could give them to someone else; the sentiment, hopefully, not a bad one. not a lost one. ━ but he hoped she'd take them. he couldn't know what it was like to be who she is trying to outlive who she used to be known by, but he wanted to help, even if he couldn't. wanted her happy, even if it was fleeting. he knew that always, always, she'd deserve that much. ( so he hoped she'd take them. he really hoped she'd take them... )

but Ryuji almost gets blindsided by his own momentary past self as he straightens out properly with his breath regained, not expecting to be caught red-handed in his half-step falter of language; he should've, Akari was quick, quicker than anything, and he finds himself kind of glad for it, but also a little embarrassed at being called out

" Oh! Uh.. " the bleached-blonde falters, not untruthfully, and scratches at the back of his head, openly unexpecting of it, as the other arm he holds the coupons with bends & lowers only slightly in his thought, the offer still blatantly on the table despite the motion " Reason I asked is 'cause, well… I wanted to know if you'd wanna go together! "

might as well be honest! ( double down! )

" I don't really know how to style an outfit like you or the others, a-and I don't know nothin' 'bout girl clothes, " Ryuji bounces his leg by the tip of his shoe, scraping it against the ground, bluntness overpowering the anxiety beneath it " but I like hanging out with you anyways, no matter what we do, and you deserve something nice! "

Ryuji's conviction of the statement is honest, heartfelt, unhesitating. he doesn't even need to think about it to believe it, like it's just a fact to him, like simple truth. he waggles the coupons like it's proving a point, flimsy paper slips shivering in the wind " and if I gave 'em to Ann, I'm pretty damn sure her closet would explode at this point… "

[Plotted Asks!]

@quillheel wrote in… »» " Hey, Akari-! " brazen as ever, like a bull in a china shop, you can hear the blonde before you see him. Ryuji manuevers, almost dance-like ( if not for how ungraceful he is ), around the groups of students departing from the academy. To his benefit, at the very least he's not toppled anyone over… this time. ducking, weaving, before hopping haphazardly on one leg, a backpack of supplies hooked on his arm wild with momentum, to part through a gap of people and at last make it to Akari. He's as bright as ever, though red in the face from the strain & speed of himself, frame shaking with heavy breathing. he hunches, hands on knees, to catch his breath. He seems not to care as people stare, just a little, at the commotion. " H-hey━ sorry about that, I uh- I wanted to ask if you were free today-? Real last second, I-I know, but━ " Well, that explains the seeming bid for attention: it was. like Akari's time would be snatched up if he wasn't fast enough. ( some days, that was true… ). he digs out two slips of paper from his bag, and waves them like evidence, reason to his social crime. " ━ wound up getting coupons for that one clothes place down the way, in Shibuya, and they expire in a couple of days so I-I wanted to ask if- " come on, spit it out! " if you wanted em-! " ━ damn! he meant to ask to go together, even if Ryuji didn't know his head from his feet in fashion, but… ah well, it's the heart that counts, right? as long as Akari had the chance to get something she liked, it was worth it either way.

The moment Akari heard the all-familiar, less-than-inside voice beckon to her, the moment she dared to turn around--she half-expected to witness some poor soul get trampled over by the incoming stampede headed in her immediate direction. However, she would be humbled in her assumption--surprisingly so, don't get her wrong--as she instead caught a showing of Ryuji attempting to hop, skip, and jump his way over to her, somehow avoiding the outcome she'd predicted.

"Ryuji, you know that you could have just said my name and I would have waited for you... right?" There's a shake of her head, but she did have to stiff a small huff of laughter. There was no reason to make such a showing, but in a twisted way, she was glad he did.

Embarrassing? Oh, yes--everyone within the vicinity was now staring into their very souls. Weirdly amusing and worth watching? Also yes.

However, when he'd expressed his intentions further, Akari's little grin had faded for an immediate reaction of surprise. She blinked a few times under her glasses, both at the invitation, and, of course, at the two tiny sheets within the blonde's grip. Coupons... for a clothing store? And, judging by his own language, he acquired these at his own leisure, and not by any sort of random chance.

Yes, extremely unlike Ryuji. To the point where she's still wearing that expression by the time she spoke again. Her thumb and index slowly trailed downward over the strap of her bag; Morgana must have jumped out at some point, maybe when he heard Ryuji coming...? He definitely would have said something less-than-ideal by now if he were present.

"A... are you sure you wouldn't want to give these to Ann?" Ann was the actual fashionista of the group, after all--surely she was the better candidate. And yet... here he was, offering them to her instead.

She... wasn't quite sure if she should be the one accepting these, out of all people... and not merely due to her lack of fashion. So, she would not extend her hand to accept them just yet.

"...You asked if I was free?" Surely it wasn't related to this, right? Ryuji didn't quite strike her as the type to enjoy that kind of shopping.

The shaken nerves permeate a little further instead of being settled in the uncertain taken-aback pause, and the more insecure, conscious part of him puts up it's hands for rejection to a heart bore honestly and puts forth the too-little-too-late consideration that maybe he should've waited. Maybe he should've, he considers it again, same as 'maybe he did' just in another skin, but this time the problem wasn't as vague as something being wrong, the problem was just him. him, so loud and urgent and lighthearted all at once, unanswerable, uncomfortable, putting her on the spot. he thought through it before, figured out the best way he could offer, but he always jumps the gun, doesn't he? when the pressure's on, he turns into a blazing thing that couldn't be contained, couldn't be accounted for, couldn't follow rules, couldn't do what they needed him to━━ Stop.

She didn't say no. He knew the freefall he was getting stuck on, and he knew how unhelpful it was. ( bite it back ) ;; Sure, maybe he should've, but he did, and in the end he loves her enough to fix it if it does need fixing the same way he would with anyone; anything else, ignorance not a crime so much as something he tries to mend, and tries not to fall into twice. ━ have a little patience. have a little faith. ( she's not gonna bite you for who you are. she never would. you found out that feeling like you did a broken leg, and it was a terrible one, but you know better. she's not the same. she never could be. )

anxiety was always like a lightning strike, like splitting dead wood, like the shiver of doing something wrong but his heart is louder, the side she brought out of him, and it rings when he realizes she's accepted, when patience pays off.

fuck whatever people wanted to assume. ━ this was what meant something, not rumors, not gossip, not assumptions on something he couldn't find in him to prioritize higher than he did her. maybe it'll bite him in the ass, when reality comes back to intrude, but the victorious feeling in his chest rings out like a bright brass bell and overwhelms it entire. too loud to hear, too loud to care about. ━ he'll handle it when it does ; always itching to move in the moment while he had it ; he'll take the teeth when it finds him, he'll take it because it made her happier, and that's enough for him. it'd always be enough. ━ maybe being called sweet adds fuel to that impulsive part of him, lit alive by approval & praise like a shock to the system. call it sugar-rush, but hell, he couldn't mind the feeling, not when it was from her

" Hell yeah!! " the words bubble out of him as partial agreement but mostly cheer, laced with a sincere elation that he couldn't help as dark eyes gleamed with it. but the blonde catches himself, aware enough to at least lower the volume, and tucks away his free hand into his pocket as an effort to contain his enthusiasm. his leg bounces with a better kind of electricity as he answers proper, grinning as he thinks for a second, and has to acknowledge that yeah ; maybe he's a little more out of his depths than he thought he was. ━━ " I mean- if you're cool with that! I don't know if there's some kind of shopping rulebook or whatever on if guys can come with, but I'm game if you are! "

" plus, " he adds, almost conspiratorially, like this was kind of heist and not just going to get a new outfit " I don't mind breaking a couple rules if you don't, neither, so why not? "

Sure, maybe he doesn't know the etiquette of how to refer more traditionally feminine clothes, and maybe he never really went out of his way to go pick up shopping things for Ann before, but you could never say he didn't have enough energy to make up for it twice over!

When her expression changes to one of surprise, smile vanishing, Ryuji can't help the pang of worry in his stomach that he did something wrong.

Maybe he did, a part of him murmured, you did just make a scene then proceed to ask if she wanted clothing coupons in public, you know? Maybe that'd be embarrassing for her, both in the ways of her disliking such attentions; her efforts to keep her head down royally dashed by sheer virtue of her befriending of him, not to mention the metaverse as a whole; and in the ways of what thoughts it might inspire. ( while Ryuji hadn't first known, hadn't first realized, the concept passed right by him entire until pointed out with pen and paper like an assignment he missed the date for; how many others shared that first unawareness? how many other people would judge her for it? their peers so often tore her apart as it is, a feeling Ryuji was so familiar with. was this feeding the vultures? was it baiting them in? if not appearance in one way, then they would always find another. they would always find something different, they would always find something. )

for a split second, his center of gravity shuddered just enough to make his nerves feel shaken, and he tries not to look too worried. it was just surprise, and if she did turn it down, really turned it down, he could give them to someone else; the sentiment, hopefully, not a bad one. not a lost one. ━ but he hoped she'd take them. he couldn't know what it was like to be who she is trying to outlive who she used to be known by, but he wanted to help, even if he couldn't. wanted her happy, even if it was fleeting. he knew that always, always, she'd deserve that much. ( so he hoped she'd take them. he really hoped she'd take them... )

but Ryuji almost gets blindsided by his own momentary past self as he straightens out properly with his breath regained, not expecting to be caught red-handed in his half-step falter of language; he should've, Akari was quick, quicker than anything, and he finds himself kind of glad for it, but also a little embarrassed at being called out

" Oh! Uh.. " the bleached-blonde falters, not untruthfully, and scratches at the back of his head, openly unexpecting of it, as the other arm he holds the coupons with bends & lowers only slightly in his thought, the offer still blatantly on the table despite the motion " Reason I asked is 'cause, well… I wanted to know if you'd wanna go together! "

might as well be honest! ( double down! )

" I don't really know how to style an outfit like you or the others, a-and I don't know nothin' 'bout girl clothes, " Ryuji bounces his leg by the tip of his shoe, scraping it against the ground, bluntness overpowering the anxiety beneath it " but I like hanging out with you anyways, no matter what we do, and you deserve something nice! "

Ryuji's conviction of the statement is honest, heartfelt, unhesitating. he doesn't even need to think about it to believe it, like it's just a fact to him, like simple truth. he waggles the coupons like it's proving a point, flimsy paper slips shivering in the wind " and if I gave 'em to Ann, I'm pretty damn sure her closet would explode at this point… "

WHAT SOFT ROMANTIC CLICHE ARE YOU? — because i love you!

passionate; you are the heated moment of an argument. when the person you care for has done something outrageously stupid or dangerous. all of your pent up emotions that you've kept inside of you come bursting out: " beCAUSE I LOVE YOU! " how could they be so dense. how could YOU be so dense. you've loved each other this whole time. your love tends to be strong, and loud. sometimes it might be hard for you to express your feelings but you let people know that they are cared for. you're also hot. good for you.

— the almost kiss

you're unsure about things, always hesitating. why is that? maybe there's something to lose for you. but maybe ( just maybe ) the risk is worth it. you're the moment when the main characters lean in, lips parted and almost touching. but it's not the actual kiss everyone loves, it's the anticipation. when they look into each other's eyes before their lids flutter close. and there's a lot of frustration when things are interrupted. trust me though, you're a lot more memorable than the actual kiss. you're nervous, but at the end of the day all you want is to be loved.

tagged: @fantomevoleur and @tacitusauxilium thank you!! <333

tagging: @yukcri @tenebriism @bcnes @underworldsarcade and anyone who wants to!