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Only the soft pitter patter of the rain outside could be heard of now, everything else was deafeningly quiet.
Sanemi’s head tips back, as if he was looking down at Muichiro with his nose held high, though really, everyone knows he never truly could. Too much worry for the kid.
“What’s it to you?!” He barks out abruptly, like a stray spark of fire catching on some cloth, that tiny ember now engulfing the material in different colours of yellow, orange and red. Mitsuri jumps at the sudden boom of his voice, sheepishly biting down a yelp as Obanai shoots her an easy glare.
Muichiro’s face looks forever unchanged, pale and expressionless. His eyes remain foggy as he stares blankly at Sanemi, others starting to suspect that he has forgotten what they were talking about.
No, it appears. The boy has not. He shakes his head with a sigh and the fog in his eyes seem to clear, even if only for a little bit. “Shinazugawa-san, I just don’t get it.” He states, pausing. Then adds quietly, “..genya’s always aching for you.” He sounds more as though he were to be talking to himself, not Sanemi.
If Tengen had heard himself right—that right there, in Muichiro’s voice, was envy. He takes a fugitive glance at Shinobu, to see if he’s not the only one who has picked up on it. She seems to be taking note of the same observation.
Sanemi must’ve discerned it as well, evident in the way his eyes narrow. “Answer the question.” He demands, “What’s it mean to you?”
Muichiro, bless his heart, seems to be deep within his own thoughts already. Eyes fogged over as he vacantly gazes at the kotatsu.
“Tch,” Sanemi grits out, “You’ll call that him by his first name, and then forget you were defending him. Seriously, Tokitou, why do you care!?” He snaps brusquely.
“I don’t understand you.” Muichiro answers, blunt as always.
Except this time—there’s feeling colouring his voice. Usually, all you’ll get out of Muichiro is an emotionless 3 to 4 word comment, veiled thinly with insolence. But this time—
Resentment…he’s jealous of how fixated Genya is on obtaining Sanemi’s attention.
Coats of realisation slowly fall upon the pillars’ faces. One by one, all except Sanemi’s. He’s sharp yet dense when he wants to be.
This has been coming for a long time now. Muichiro practically lives inside his own head. His voice never changes, his face never changes—yet the way his tone and expression soften inexplicably whenever Genya does so much as to greet him—says more than enough.
Suddenly, just about most of the pillars’ heads snap towards Sanemi. Awkward tension in the air damn near palpable. Has he realised yet? What an idiot! Took him long enough. Kyaa! I knew this moment would come!!
But all Sanemi does is clench his jaw. “I don’t understand you either. How you can cozy up to a pathetic swine like him, as a pillar, is beyond me.”
“How could you understand?” Muichiro barks back quickly, the fog in his eyes are completely gone now, replaced with revulsion. “You know nothing of him. All you see if what you want to see, you ignorant fool.”
“And just who do you think you are, pipsqueak!?”
“Someone with empathy,” Muichiro? With empathy? Bizarre. “You couldn’t even comprehend half the struggle he goes through. You are so lucky to have your brother healthy and alive near you, yet your damn pride stops you from seeing any of it. How he can waste his blood and tears over someone like you, is beyond me.” He lets it all out in one breath.
Even the rain outside is shying away from the tension.
For the first time, in a long time, Sanemi has nothing to say, and can only stare on, bewildered.