Ryujii Sakamoto had always known that he was a man of many weaknesses.
He was hot tempered, painfully vulgar, incredibly insensitive and astoundingly slow to the uptake in ANY discussions.
Yet, he had always believed that despite all those weaknesses, there was one good trait about him that made up for it, that would bring him through all trials and difficulties that may beseige him from all fronts- and that was his unwillingness to lose, his determination to never give up even when things are hopeless.
When the phantom theieves were still active, everytime they encountered major difficulties and setbacks, he had always been the first one to say that they had to fight back. Even when everyone was disheartened, he was the one to voice out that they needed to overcome the challenge, no matter what.
While it was true he never really helped to solve any problems the phantom theieves faced- other than his rare and unintententional strokes of 'genius',- he was a motivating force behind them to push them forward- be it through making them angry or irritating them beyond the point of endurance that they forget about their sadness and decided to focus on the task simply to shut him up and make him stop his tantrums.
However, the problem he faced now was probably the biggest predicament and challenge he had faced since the time the police was trying to capture him and the others- no, it was worse this time as the problem he faced now was ONLY his, and he didnt have anyone else sharing his plight.
"We are sorry to inform you that your application into the school of sports science and management has been rejected. If you are still keen on taking this course, please apply for an interview on our website ..."
The black, bolded words seemed to taunt him as they stood out blaringly against the white background of the screen, as though it was mocking him for even failing to get into the course which he specialised in.
Panic and eventually despair started to claw at his heart as he read and reread the patronizing words.
Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't that stupid. It was true that his grades for finals barely passed - even with the help of the smartest girl in school, Makoto,- but that was only because he was too lazy to study.
Hence, the moment he got the rejection letter, he knew why. It was quite obvious,after all.
Kamoshida may have been officially recognised as a disgrace of a teacher, but that could not erase the stain of him acyislly attacking a teacher. That itself was enough reason for most universities to reject him at first glance.
Another obvious reason was simple- his horrendous grades. It was true that sports sceince and management didn't need good grades, but grades reflected the attitude of said person- and his weren't exactly at the top rung of the ladder.
Probably the most important reason- the most painful one- was that his leg had been broken before. Even now, after three years, he still couldn't run as fast as he did in the past.
It had been a long time since he let the injury weigh his mind down. He had accepted it and moved on- like how he did with the track team.
He had never expected the injury to haunt him, and definitely not in this manner. Maybe he should have, but it didn't matter anymore.
He groaned and cursed under his breath, his hand running through his hair-a habit he did whenever something troubldd him,- his usual scowl deepening, hiding his true feelings deep within. His mind raced as he tried to think up of anything that could help him.
The interview was a lost cause. He was as illiterate as a brainless mutt when it came to formal talks. He would not be able to say anything to save his life, much less impress the interviewers to the point of letting him in.
Wait for the next year to apply? He couldn't do that either. His mother's health was weakening- the toll of being a single parent finally showing after so many years. He didn't want to burden her for an extra year. His heart ached everytime he saw her drooping eyes and tensed shoulders- he wanted to erase that as soon as possible.
After mulling for a few more minutes, his temper finally flared and he brought his fist down onto the table. Hard. The loud thud could be heard throughout the entire house.
"Ryuuji? Is something wrong?" His mother's kind voice came from the kitchen. He cursed silently.
"Nothing, mom! Just hit my knee on the table by accident! It's fine!"
When no reply came, he sighed in relief. He didn't want his mom to worry about his studies. She already had enough to worry about without him being an extra nuisance.
"This sucks..." he quietly groaned to himself. A breath later, he stood up and carefully navigated his way through his cluttered room to his cupboard and took out a set of running attire.
He needed to clear his mind, and exercise never seized to create that wondrous miracle on him- it was HIS mind he was talking about, after all.
The cold bit against his skin, and the gentle breeze that would be normally appreciated in summer did nothing but make him feel worse in the cold that winter brought about.
The sun was high up in the sky though, with few clouds to block its rays of warmth. A small blessing in the dreary afternoon of the cold winter.
Despite that, however, his body was soaked through with sweat, and the slightest breeze caused his body to shiver uncontrollably as the combined effects of a wet body and cold wind attacked his senses.
Panting for breath, he finally stopped jogging and clutched his knees, his body bent over slightly as he tried to recover from the lack of breath. It wasn't easy, considering that the dry air was difficult to breathe in, much less help him regain much oxygen. It took him around fifteen minutes just to breathe normally- or as normal as he could with his spasming body.
He hadn't ran this hard in a long while.
Folding his arms around his chest-a vain attempt to warm himself up- he trudged wearily towards the direction of his house.
For the first time, the run didn't help him. He didn't feel that much calmer at all, and the cold didn't help at all to soothe his frayed nerves.
In his red jumper suit and track pants, he was the only one that stood out in the park. Winter was hardly a season where people liked to exercise, and the park was empty save for one or two hardcore exercisers.
And he felt more alone than ever.
He had thought about calling for a meeting with the rest of the phantom theieves. Despite the fact that they had went their seperate ways, they were as close as they were during their debut as the phantom theieves. But, after thinking about it, he decided against it.
Makoto was busy in university- enrolling into law and police enforcement courses,- Futaba was still studying in high school, Haru was busy managing her father's company and also planning to start her new cafe, Morgana was with Ann at Akihibasa doing a model photoshoot, Yusuke was holding an art exhibition in Hokkaido while Akira was working in Leblanc- inheriting it from Mr Sakura a year ago after he decided to take a break.
Basically, they were all moving on with their lives successfully while he wasn't.
Ryuuji rarely let self-pity take form in his heart, but with the situation at hand, he didn't really know what else he could do.
He sighed miserably, watching as mist rolled out of his mouth. Honestly, the only solution he could think of now was to go for the interview, but wasn't it a lost cause to begin with? Reluctance kept on sprouting in him whenever he thought about it.
"Ryuuji? Is that you?" A soothing voice floated through the air from behind. Ryuuji's eyes widened as he recognised the familiar voice all too well and turned around, drinking in the sight of his best friend.
"Woah, Akira? You're exercising too? What about the shop?" Ryuuji asked in surprise.
Akira, in his red overalls, chuckled. "The old man wanted to take over for today. Said something along the lines of 'not wanting the name of Leblanc to be tarnished too much'." Ryuuji chuckled as well after hearing that.
"Sounds just like him," Ryuuji commented. The two shared a moment of comfortable silence as they walked seemingly without direction.
Both of them were deep in their owm thoughts, and neither spoke up to break the silence. Years of friendship and the supernatural experience of fighting beside each other, however, made it so that they could be comfortable even without conversation.
Akira, however, seemed to sense thst something was wrong. It had been twenty minutes, and the normally boisterous blonde haired boy did not even say a single word. It was very unlike him.
"Something troubling you?" Akira asked, concern lacing his voice. Ryuuji's shoulders seemed to deflate, and a sigh could be heard from him.
Ryuuji was conflicted. He did not want to burden his best friend with his problems- hell, who knew how many times Akira had pulled him out of trouble,- but he also knew that Akira could read him like an open book, and would not give up till he dragged whatever was ailing him out of his mouth.
After much internal debate, Ryuuji sighed again in resignation.
"My application got rejected." His voice was clipped and controlled as he tried to hide how much of a disappointment it was and how deeply it affected his emotional state.
Akira stayed silent for a moment, and Ryuuji could feel his eyes boring down on him as he purposely adverted his gaze from Akira. He was, after all, a prideful person by nature. It might have been toned down after the years of maturing, but by the large, it still dominated.
Humbling himself to confide in just anyone was still too hard for him. Perhaps only the members of the phantom theieves, or maybe only Akira could cause him to be willing to humble himself and confide in them.
"What are your options?" Akira asked, his tone serious and yet containing a hint of infectious calmness.
"Wait to apply again next year or go for an interview."
"So the latter choice then," Akira stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Ryuuji's mouth gaped open, but closed quickly afterward, morphing into a small grin.
Akira always had a sharp eye, with terrifying analytical and discerning skills to back it up. It was one of the many reasons why he had been the one to lead the phsntom theieves in the past.
"Yea, thats the only option I have. I can't wait till next year- I can't burden my mom longer than I need to," Ryuuji's fists clenched tightly as he thought about it.
"You seem unsure about it, though," Akira replied. Ryuuji paused at that, unsure of what to say.
"...I don't want to fail," Ryuuji admitted through clenched teeth. "I've failed in so many things - my track team, my studies, even my family is in tatters."
He ran a hand through his hair once again, and then scratched the back of his neck-something he did whenever he felt awkward or embarrassed.
"Dammit! This course is my only hope," As hard as he tried, he couldn't stop his voice from cracking slightly.
He could succeed where he failed- train a track team to greatness instead of himself, improve his grades in a subject he was really interested in and earn enough money to release the burden his mom held every single day.
On the premise he actually got in, that is.
"What makes you think you'll fail?" Akira's voice cut through his depressing thoughts like a hot knife theough butter. Ryuuji's wide eyes finally turned and met Akira's.
By this time, they had already stopped walking. Ryuuji vaguely recognized the area as the centre of the park. Somehow, the direction of their movement had changed from towards the exit to the opposite.
Akira's face held a small smile. "The Ryuuji I know won't even consider failure as one of the results, much less fear it."
His words hit home like a ton of bricks and pierced through the layer of self-pity that had been enshrouding his mind and heart.
"Don't be entrapped by your own weaknesses and society's expectations. We may have lost our personas, but that doesn't mean we have lost the ability to face and overcome our inner demons."
Ryuuji chuckled wryly, realising just how true Akira's words were.
"You have some pretty vocab there," Ryuuji said, his shoulders slowly relaxing, a smile lighting up his face- the most genuine one in a while.
Akira merely chuckled.
"...You're hella right. Seems like I've been running away, huh."
"Yup."
"I just got to go for the damn interview, right?"
"Yup."
"Full-on brash and obnoxious mode?"
"I'm sure they aren't looking for quiet people to lead star teams."
Ryuuji laughed at that and nodded, his inner turmoil finally dissipitating, replaced by a familiar determination that coarsed and burned through his veins.
"I am going to get that spot."
"That's the way," Akira cheered, and Ryuuji could see the usual, knowing, annoyingly confident smirk on Akira's face- the same smirk he showed whenever everything went according to his plans.
"Why do I feel like you knew it would turn out this way," Ryuji commented. Akira's grin widened.
"Because I did." Ryuuji snorted, though the smile on his face held.
"Cocky bastard," Ryuuji replied, and they noth shared a good laugh.
It had been a while since they talked like this.
"Well," Akira started to speak. "Why not we go celebrate your recovered confidence?"
"Where?"
Akira jerked his thumb over his shoulder, shooting a teasing smile at him.
Ryuuji's eyes followed the line of sight of the finger and landed on a shop that he was all too familiar with.
"Oh."
"My treat. Your tastes haven't changed that much, right?" Akira said with a teasing smile.
"No way in hell. Let's go get some ramen!" Ryuuji raised his voice carefreely.
"You better own that interview," Akira threatened, though the mischievious glint in his eyes gave it away.
"I'll blast through it. Just you watch," Ryuuji replied, confidence flowing freely with every word.
"I'll hold you to that."
"Yea," Ryuuji's habits kicked in, and his hand once again found its way to the back of his neck.
"Thanks. For everything."
"Yea."
A day later, he submitted his application for for the interview.
A week later, he attended it.
A month later, he took his first step into his new class.