(Set somewhere between episode 10 and 12.)
It was harder to hate Shinji Kido than Ren Akiyama had been prepared for. At least when he was asleep.
When he was awake, he didn't have the same problem. Even disregarding the slowly dying suspicion that Kido was getting close to Yui as part of some sort of sinister plot, the man was just plain annoying. In his face, all the time, too loud, too naive, too demanding. Don't do this. Be nice. Don't fight. Don't kill. Don't win. As if he had any idea what he was asking.
Did Kido really think that the other riders would retire their game just because he asked them nicely? Had he even considered that some people might have good reasons to bet their lives on this fight? Probably not. It was a game to him.
Kido had never spent days in a hospital chair, waiting for eyes that would never open. He had never reached out to touch someone that didn't respond, only the faint beeping of machines reassuring him that there was still life in Eri's body. Somewhere. His fault. Somehow. And not fighting meant giving that up. It meant surrendering what hope he had left.
And he wouldn't do that. And it was none of Kido's business why either. Besides, the ignorance and the questions made it easy to stay angry.
Not like now.
In the dead of night. In the same small room. Two beds with just enough space between them to be separate. Kido sprawled bonelessly on the bed, sleeping like the dead, mouth open. Snoring. Loudly.
In retrospect, throwing the pillow had been a mistake. All that had happened was that Kido has now claimed it as his own, the snoring muted for a moment before resuming unabated.
It should be easy to hate him still. He slept too soundly. He didn't have nightmares. Not that Ren had nightmares. Much. He just had a hard time breathing at times. But that was the room. Too small. Not enough air. Too hot.
In retrospect, covering Kido's mouth with his hand had been an even bigger mistake. The snoring had quieted down, but now he felt the hot breath against his palm. The way the mouth moved a little in response to his touch. Not a kiss. Just a reflex. But at least it was quiet now and he could think. Except that he had no time for it, because those long lashes fluttered open and it took him a moment to realize that the twitching under his hand had been Kido waking up.
Ren yanked his hand back as if it had been bitten.
"Ren?" The mumble was sleepy, Kido easing himself up on one elbow with the boneless sanguinity of the very tired. "Are you alright?"
"You were snoring." Ren felt his back go ramrod straight, but it didn't change the fact that he was kneeling next to Shinji Kido's bed, the other man looking at him with a mixture of confusion and sleepiness. "Loudly," he added, as if that would explain everything.
"Well, soorree…" The excuse mingled with a yawn, and Ren wasn't sure if it had been supposed to sound as sarcastic as it did. "Sometimes I snore."
"Just stop." Pulling back would have meant admitting that there was something wrong with sitting this close, so Ren remained where he was.
"It's not that easy…" Kido's voice got that familiar tone of complaining that normally set Ren's teeth on edge, but somehow the slight sleepy slurring made it more tolerable. "I always snore on my back. And I always sleep on my back if I don't curl up to someone."
"Well, I can't sleep." Was that pout meant to be a smile? Ren tried to figure out how Kido's face worked, but didn't have time before a hand grabbed his arm and he found himself busy fending off being pulled into the bed.
"Stop struggling and come up here then," Kido admonished, and to his surprise Ren obeyed.
Maybe it was the fact that Kido was still obviously half asleep and not in any condition to use this against him in some way. Maybe it was the fact that he desperately needed sleep and hadn't got any in days. Maybe it was the fact that this was the logical thing to do. The bed was big enough when Kido scooted over towards the wall. Big enough for two.
Still. Ren promised himself that he'd pretend this had never happened in the morning, even if Kido somehow remembered. He hoped he wouldn't. He was already fast asleep after all, rolled over on his side, one arm carelessly flung over Ren's waist. Not an embrace. Not pressed close. Just next to him without a care in the world. Not snoring.
Just snoozing. Small, shallow breaths. Comforting in a way.
Maybe that's why he stayed in bed. Maybe that's why he let himself drift off to sleep. Because for all of Kido's considerable annoying qualities, he reminded him of Eri. Far too much.
How Kido managed to get out of bed in the morning without waking him he would never know.