Chapter Text
It starts with the simple question: “Rinrin, can I borrow your eyeliner?”
Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it started with a fleeting summer day, with an equally fleeting schoolyard crush on a determined and tragically ginger boy with an equally tragic haircut, a boy a year older and a year too world-worn than what was justifiable for a ten year old. It might’ve started with the ensuing fist fight with the ginger’s younger brother, or the season long feud that followed.
Maybe it began with that feeling. He’d felt alive then.
Now, several years too old to be contemplating such things, Ryuusei was up to more important things than fighting for attention with kids on the playground. Like avoiding studying for college exams, among other societal obligations.
He sat with his legs swinging off of the school bathroom countertop, carefully inspecting his pores in a sneakily vandalized mirror and mourning the makeup bag he’d forgotten in some public restroom several weeks ago. As a result of being unable to afford replacing all of his bazillion products, for several weeks his face now has been insufferably bare and boring. It was part of his excuse for hiding away in this dingy hellhole (only dingy because children were the ones who cleaned it) instead of furthering his education, because appearing to the world unkempt should be one of the seven unforgivable sins.
And it was a terminal illness, an incurable dilemma, because if he never got his supplies back, Ryuusei simply could not leave this room, and he couldn’t be aided from the boys bathroom. What teenage boy would walk in with an expendable supply of…literally anything relating to self care? (Thank you Vanity. Thank you Shallowness.)
He justified that he would just be stranded here forever.
Then in walked Itoshi Rin, disrupting the delicate balanced ecosystem of the secluded bathroom. Student council member, straight A prodigy, short fused Itoshi Rin, wielding his entire backpack and a deathly frown. Itoshi Rin, Shidou Ryuusei’s former fourth grade playground sparring partner.
Given the guy’s stormy expression and his reputation for occasional explosive anger, Ryuusei expected the boy to lock himself in a stall and not say a word. Maybe scream a few expletives actually (and then make a guilty expression because student council members weren’t supposed to be so foul-mouthed. Then again, they weren’t really supposed to be so violently inclined either.) But Itoshi Rin, ever the unpredictable, strode confidently to the opposite side of the mirror, threw his bag to the ground, splashed his face with water aggressively.
(Ryuusei noted, in the brief moment of silence that passed between the activation of the faucet and the expected expletives, that the younger boy’s makeup didn’t budge an inch.)
As always Ryuusei had the urge to begin pushing at random buttons, to throw a couple knives at the dartboard and see what stuck, to unravel the curiosity that was the second floor boys bathroom invader Itoshi Rin, but all that came out of his own foul mouth was the fated question.
(And it surprised him that someone so prideful as Rin would wear makeup at all, but maybe it shouldn’t, with that emo haircut and air of perfection. Gag.)
“You should be in class, Shidou.” It was a weak response.
Cackling, Ryuusei sang, “So should you. Are you gonna report me?” He caught Rin’s gaze in the mirror with a challenge, initially unperturbed by its ferocity. Except his eyes were red rimmed and more fragile than Ryuusei had anticipated. After an uncomfortable moment Ryuusei looked away, shifting to face away from the mirror.
It was still morning, not even halfway through first period, if Ryuusei had to guess. What could’ve transpired in that time? Except, was it Wednesday? Student council was three days a week. But student council was so inoffensive; Ryuusei suspected Rin was the most colorful participant. Not explosive enough for his tastes. He wasn’t in any clubs for this reason. Most of his extracurriculars weren’t completely school appropriate.
Did his grandma die? Was he catholic? Related to the recently passed pope in some capacity? Maybe his grandma was the Pope…very slim possibility but not nil.
Ryuusei sighed and rested his head on his hands, examining Rin’s profile. His eyes are trained downwards with a pinpoint focus. Detective work was not his style, and there was one sore point Ryuusei had already lined with darts from years prior. “Is your brother back in town?”
Interestingly, Rin’s scowl deepened. Was that a yes or a no? Typically when one fucked off to a foreign country it was either for opportunity (MONEY) or to run away from all of their problems. Which had authentically occurred? Which would Itoshi Rin more positively receive? (Some people were into the troubled and mysterious shtick. Ryuusei considered how likely he was to get his face bashed in if he asked for Itoshi Sae’s number right now.)
Eventually the automatic faucet shut off, leaving the silence to ring louder, broken only by the occasional drop against the ceramic basin from soaking dark locks. Ryuusei twirled a strand of his own hair. It probably wasn’t really his place to be asking after the brother of a boy he quarrelled with briefly in elementary school, to be proding at wounds he’s only seen second hand. But hey, he was bored in the bathroom, and Ryuusei wasn’t known for his tact. (Thank you Vulgarity.)
“Is it just sharpie?” he inquired.
Rin reached down into his bag and wordlessly handed Ryuusei a pencil sized black stick. The blonde grinned uncontrollably.
He eagerly swiveled around on the countertop and scrabbled at his own face. After perfecting his undereye wing Ryuusei returned the pen and happily returned to polite society, also known as Calculus. He didn’t look to see if Rin followed.
–
The next day Ryuusei went out to Lawson and picked up three shades of eyeliner: obviously black, an eye scorching pink, to match his hair of course, and on a whim, a bold cyan.