warning: gratuitous fluff
The time Arakita spent alone was the time he savored. He had always felt that when he spent time with others, he was just... wasting it. It wasn't that he didn't occasionally enjoy hanging out with his other teammates, it was just easier to be on his own, and it always had been. When he was by himself, riding down some quiet stretch of road, with only the birds and the rare car passing by for company, he felt like he could really be himself. Even though he always thought that he was twisted or distorted somehow, and he disliked most of his natural traits, he was relieved when he didn't have to deal with the disapproval or negative reactions that came from other people. They didn't understand why he acted the way he did, and that was completely fine. He didn't blame them. It was nobody's fault but his own for his behavior.
The only company he actually enjoyed was Fukutomi's (and, occasionally, Shinkai's). Sometimes, when he was hanging out with Fukutomi, it even felt like he was by himself. He told this to Fukutomi on one occasion, but he didn't receive much response, as usual. Fukutomi merely shrugged, expression unchanged.
"That's fine," he had said, and Arakita had assumed that it was a neutrality. Fukutomi did not care what Arakita thought of him. He didn't seem to care about much at all, aside from cycling it seemed, which had Arakita wondering if he could ever make that very short list. Even if he couldn't, Arakita was perfectly alright with that. It was fine. He didn't need anybody to care about him, he'd always been fine by himself, and he always would be.
Which is why he ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach, settling as dread near the bottom whenever he let himself think about Fukutomi for too long. Which is why the growing aggression he felt every day put him on edge in every interaction, making his skin crawl, making it impossible for anyone to properly interact with him anymore. Even when he told himself that this constant worrying was pointless, he still couldn't stop thinking about it. Nothing would change, even if Fukutomi never liked him. Nothing would change, even if he never got past that stone-faced exterior. Nothing would change, even if Fukutomi never expressed any kind of affection. Nothing would change. So why did it bother him so much?
He had never felt this kind of frustration before. Never wanted so badly for somebody to like him, to approve of him, to crave his company as much as he craved theirs. It gnawed at his insides and coiled around his brain, seeping deep into the crevices like some kind of awful parasite. He rode harder during practices, trained more on his own, but for what? The Inter High was over. What was he even showing up to practices for anymore, anyway? Why was he training so hard, why did every slip up he made seem so much worse, why did he need to be perfect now, when it didn't even matter anymore. All he had to do was keep moving, that was all cycling was. Just keep moving, while always looking forward. So why was it suddenly so difficult? Why was he so angry?
It was storming outside that day. Arakita was getting ready in the club room, and had just sat down to grind his teeth and wait for the rest of the team when the door slid open. Arakita barely registered the voice of Manami, who had rushed inside, jacket over his head as he complained about something, maybe the rain, but his head snapped up so quickly he heard a quiet crackle. Nobody else had entered with Manami.
"Ah, Arakita-san!" Manami said pleasantly, rushing over to his locker, "I was just getting something I had forgotten..." he trailed off, seeming to take in Arakita's appearance for a moment.
"What?" Arakita barked, turning aggressively towards him, "What are you looking at?"
"Oh, nothing, sorry!" Manami laughed, though his tone suggested nervousness, "I just... You're not going to ride in this, are you?"
"HA? Of course I am, idiot!" He stood up, putting his hands on his hips, "Don't tell me you're not coming to practice today because of a little rain!"
"Arakita-san, the storm is much worse than you think," Manami said, opening his locker, "Fukutomi-san cancelled practice because the roads would be too dangerous. The winds are really strong, and-"
"HAAA?" Arakita shouted, cutting Manami off, "He cancelled practice? Why didn't he tell me?" Manami blinked, having retrieved what he'd come for, a small paperback book, and tugged his jacked back up over his head when he spoke.
"He probably just didn't get the chance," Manami said, "I only heard because he told Toudou to tell-"
"So he had a messenger tell you, but not me?" Arakita exploded, frustration seeming off of him in waves, "What the hell!"
"I'm sorry, Arakita-san, maybe he figured you would already know?" Manami began edging out of the room, keeping a nervous smile on his face, "I really have to go, before this gets any worse... Do you want me to send someone with an umbrella, or?"
"No!" Arakita shoved his helmet on with a little too much force, "I came out here to practice. Go home if you want, I don't care," Manami's eyes widened with concern.
"Arakita-sa-"
"Go!" Arakita pushed past him, out into the heavy rain, and though Manami trailed after him at first, when Arakita retrieved his bike from the shed, he seemed to give up.
"I'll let someone know you're out here!" He called after Arakita, who could barely hear him over the wind and rain, "Please don't go far!"
Arakita had been soaked before he had even mounted his bike, but he forced himself to pedal through the downpour in spite of this. If he couldn't handle a little rain, what kind of person was he? He was nothing. Useless. If he couldn't ride in this storm, then there was little point for him to ride at all. He couldn't believe Fukutomi hadn't told him not to come to practice, couldn't believe that practice was cancelled in the first place! How could they possibly move forward if they stopped at every tiny obstacle? It was counterproductive, as if everything they had worked towards was nothing! If they couldn't keep moving forward, then where would they go? Was he the only one who understood this?
He began pedaling more earnestly, tires unsteady on the slick road. If Fukutomi couldn't even keep his word, then it meant nothing. None of them meant anything, and once they were gone, Arakita would be better off. He sped along slippery roads and over fallen branches. He didn't need Manami. He took a turn a little too sharply, almost flying off of his bike but somehow managing to retain his balance. He didn't need Fukutomi! His legs burned as he pedaled upwards on a steep incline, face twisted in determination and frustration. He didn't need any of them! None if it mattered anymore, because none of them were moving forward, like him. None of them understood! None of them understood that if he didn't have this...
He slowed, tears streaming down his face feeling warm in the cold rain. As he crossed the top of the hill he had been climbing, he spotted a parked car a little ways down the road. Next to it stood a man, standing tall with a large, black umbrella. Arakita sniffed, choking back a sob and coughing when he breathed in rainwater. It burned in his lungs, made his eyes water even more, and he considered blasting by the figure on the road, splashing them like they deserved, and he considered making a rude gesture, cursing at them, taking out all of this aggression right here and now, but as he got closer, he began to recognize them.
Arakita slowed to a stop a few feet away from Fukutomi, unsure why he had even bothered.
"Arakita," Fukutomi said loudly over the storm, "What are you doing?"
"Are you stupid?" Arakita shouted back, voice ragged with emotion. He stared at the slick concrete beneath him, "What does it look like?"
Fukutomi did not respond, but Arakita heard him cross the pavement to stand next to him, and the rain had stopped pelting down on him when he was under Fukutomi's umbrella. Arakita sniffed, trying very hard to stop crying now that Fukutomi could see him. He could pass the redness off as him being cold, but the snot and puffy eyes would be too embarrassing. His face flushed, and he stayed still, arms locked in place and hands gripping the handlebars tightly, as if he could pretend hard enough for the both of them.
"Arakita," Fukutomi said after a long moment, "Why are you out here," It sounded more like a statement than a question, and as if to punctuate his sentence, there was a deafening boom and a flash of light that made Arakita jump. He raised a stiff hand to wipe his nose, and shrugged.
"Why aren't you?" Fukutomi stayed silent, but there was another crash of thunder to answer for him. The two stayed quiet for a while, and Arakita lifted his foot and locked it back onto his pedal, intending to ride away. Fukutomi's hand closed around his arm before he could get moving.
"Let go!" Arakita shouted, voice rivaling the thunder, and he jerked away from Fukutomi violently, but only served to injure himself. He glared up at Fukutomi, who's eyes had widened slightly. He let go of Arakita, "What?" He snapped, when he saw Fukutomi's expression, "What are you staring for? Are you an idiot?" He snarled at Fukutomi, who remained silent, expression returning to his normal, stoic stone-face, "Why don't you just leave? What does it matter if I ride today? It's my decision!"
"Yes," Fukutomi agreed, and Arakita's heart sank drastically. He could no longer hold back the tears, but let them stream freely as he sneered at Fukutomi.
"Then what do you want!" He shouted, shifting his weight as if to ride away before he could get an answer.
"Please," Fukutomi, noticing the motion, said quickly before Arakita could leave, "I want you to get in the car."
"Why?" Arakita laughed, grinning in an awful way that showed off his canine teeth, "So you can pretend to care about me? The Inter High's over, Fuku-chan, you don't have to-" he stopped, cut off by Fukutomi, who had grabbed the collar of Arakit'a uniform, lifting himslightly from his seat. Arakita stayed quiet, shocked by his own words, and by the expression that had now claimed Fukutomi. The look of surprised horror was the most emotion he had ever seen Fukutomi produce, even when pressed. He blinked and sniffed, tugging at Fukutomi's hand in an attempt to free himself, "Fuku-"
"Stop it," Fuutomi seemed angry now, face falling back into a familiar pattern, but looking entirely unfamiliar at the same time, "Stop it right now, and get in the car," he dropped Arakita back into his seat, and began walking away, pulling his keys out as if he was absolutely certain that Arakita would follow, and Arakita's shock turned to rage, and that rage turned to bitter dread. The urge to ride away was almost too much to ignore, but he dismounted his bike instead, and stomped quickly after Fukutomi, spinning him around and shoving him against the car in anger. Fukutomi's blank expression only fed the flames of his rage.
"No!" he yelled, pulling Fukutomi forward and slamming him against the door again. His keys clattered to the ground, "No! No, no, no! Christ, Fukutomi, do you even like me? What are you doing? Why are you out here? I thought you understood me, Fuku-chan! Don't you? Don't you understand?" his grip loosened on Fukutomi's jacket, and Arakita let his palms rest there, on his chest, "Don't any of you understand?"
"Understand what?" Fukutomi's tone was quiet, calming, and Arakita hung his head in shame and embarrassment. His shoulders shook slightly from the cold and from the sobs he could just barely suppress. Of course. His hands turned to fists, and he pushed away from Fukutomi, wiping his eyes as he took a few steps backwards. Of course he didn't understand. Nobody did. Nobody was as useless as Arakita.
"Arakita," Fukutomi said quietly, but did not continue. It was fine. Arakita didn't want to hear whatever he had to say.
"Sorry, Fuku-chan," Arakita spoke up, sniffing and pressing his palms against his eyes, "I'm sorry," Fukutomi picked up his keys, and moved towards Arakita, resting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry," Arakita said again, "I'm an idiot. It's alright."
"No, it's not," Fukutomi said gently, and tugged one of Arakita's hands away from his face, "Hold this," he said, and Arakita took the umbrella from him, watching in shame as Fukutomi wheeled his fallen bike over to his car and loaded it onto the bike rack. Manami must have told Fukutomi that he was out here. Fukutomi had left his own bike at the school to make room for Arakita's. A new wave of shame and embarrassment passed over him, and he stared at the ground, allowing Fukutomi to lead him over to the car.
"What do you mean," Arakita asked tentatively when he was seated on a towel in the front seat, "by it's not alright?" Fukutomi did not answer for a long moment, and Arakita began to feel ashamed again. He turned to stare out the window, letting himself zone out watching the rain and the scenery that flashed by. It was almost nice, sitting there with Fukutomi. If he closed his eyes, he almost felt like none of that had even happened. He pretended, for a moment, that Fukutomi was not mad at him. That he was not cold and soaking wet. That he had not just had what verged on an emotional breakdown in front of the only person who's opinion mattered to him. That he had not just ruined everything.
It was nice.
"I don't want to ignore this," Fukutomi said suddenly, after what must have been a lot of deliberation, and Arakita opened his eyes, turning to look at him. He was staring straight ahead, expression the same as it ever was, "I want to help."
They were quiet again, and Arakita's face flushed. He stared out the window again, clenching his teeth so he didn't say what he was thinking. It would be best, for once, if he just kept his mouth shut. He only ever seemed to making things worse by talking.
"I told Toudou to pass along the message to everyone," Fukutomi went on, "That practice would be cancelled today," he clarified as they turned a corner. Arakita stayed quiet, not wanting to confirm or deny any suspicions, "He didn't get to you in time, and that's my fault. I'm sorry. I should have made sure everyone knew."
"No, Fuku-chan, it wasn't-" he started abruptly, but stopped himself, covering his face with his hand, "It's fine, I wasn't mad. You don't have to..."
"You were upset," he said, as they turned onto the street that would take them to the school's back entrance.
"But you don't have to apologize!" Arakita said loudly, rubbing his eyes roughly.
"Why not?" Arakita did not have an answer for him, so he stayed quiet for a while, watching the motion of the wipers instead. They came to a stop near the club room, and Fukutomi turned the car off.
"Stay here," Fukutomi said shortly, and everything in Arakita wanted to rebel, to disobey. He hated being ordered around like that, like a child; like a dog. Before he could get out an angry retort, however, Fukutomi exited the car, moving around to the back. Arakita sighed, watched absently as Fukutomi calmly wheeled his bike to the storage shed, and then entered the club room. He exited with a gym bag, bringing it into the car with him and handing it over to Arakita.
"You should change out of that shirt, at least," he said, buckling himself up again and starting the car, "I'll drive you to school tomorrow, if you haven't got a cold. Finals are coming up, so you shouldn't miss any days."
"I don't need you to baby me!" Arakita shouted bitterly as he changed out of his cycling shirt, as Fukutomi had suggested. The car began to move as he pulled on his dry undershirt. He slid into his hoodie as well, suppressing an exhale of relief at being in something that was warm again.
"You need somebody," Fukutomi said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it shocked Arakita. He stayed still, gaze locked on the dash, "You don't have a ride tomorrow, right? You take your bike to school."
"Wh-so?" he sputtered, face flushing, "Lots of people walk! I'll walk!"
"I didn't like that you rode to school in the rain," Fukutomi answered simply, and Arakita grimaced, irritation growing.
"Well, you've never said anything before!" Arakita snapped, and then fell quiet. The air felt heavy, and he glared out his window, "This is coming out of nowhere, Fuku-chan! Nothing's different, so-"
"Yes, it is," Fukutomi said, cutting Arakita off, "If it isn't, then I'm sorry I haven't noticed," Arakita felt a hot wash of shame descend over him when he realized that Fukutomi was not talking about their literal situation. His whole body tensed up, fear filling him.
"What are you talking about," Arakita said, trying to sound confident, "I haven't been getting a lot of sleep, and I skipped lunch, so that's why I... that's why I was so upset. I overreacted. That's all. It's fine, Fuku-chan, just forget about it."
"No," was Fukutomi's quiet response. They drove in silence for a time after that, Arakita too frustrated and afraid to even look in Fukutomi's direction. There was no way he could cover this outburst up. Fukutomi was going to make him talk about it. He would have to reveal how horribly confused he was, how frustrated and powerless he felt, how directionless everything seemed now. He would have to explain how, even when he was riding on his bike and moving forward with all of his might, he still felt like he was staying in the same place. He would have to explain how he felt about Fukutomi, something not even he was sure about. His stomach filled with butterflies, and a tense giddy feeling came over him. He hated the panicky feeling of being backed into a corner.
"Sh-shut up!" Arakita burst out with suddenly.
"I wasn't-"
"You don't know what you're talking about! You think you do, but you don't!" Arakita turned to glare at Fukutomi, who was slowing the car to stop along the side of the road, "Why can't you just accept what I'm saying to you? Why can't you just do as I say for once? Nothing is different!"
"Arakita," Fukutomi opened his mouth to continue, serious gaze now fixed on Arakita, but he didn't say anything else. He seemed to be picking his words carefully again, which made Arakita feel like he was some kind of caged animal who needed to be tiptoed around. Fukutomi was the only person who Arakita didn't want to think of him like a savage animal. He was the only person, yet here he was, like he was walking on glass.
"What! Just say what you want to say!" Arakita shouted, "You of all people should know you can say whatever you want around me! You're the only person who can!" he flushed and fell silent, feeling that he had said too much. Fukutomi's expression softened with surprise, and he leaned forward slightly.
"I care about you," he said bluntly, each word carrying meaning behind it, "I always have, and I always will. From the day we met, I knew you were somebody significant. Somebody I could help. I have always cared about your well-being and growth. I have always cared about you, from the bottom of my heart," Arakita was speechless, staring open-mouthed at Fukutomi, who's face was so earnest and fierce. He stayed silent, still absorbing his words. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that before, "I'm here for you, Arakita," Fukutomi reached out and grabbed Arakita's hand, gripping it tightly in his own and holding it up between them. Tears began to stream freely down his face, and he did not try to hide them as Arakita had, "Maybe you didn't think so, but I have always been there for you. I always will be."
"Fuku...chan," he didn't know what to say. He stared at Fukutomi wordlessly, unable to articulate what he was feeling. Unable to decipher the multitude of feelings he was experiencing. He gripped Fukutomi's hand back, and said lamely, "Me too."
Fukutomi unbuckled his seat belt and reached over to unbuckle Arakita's as well before pulling him into an embrace. It lasted longer than Arakita was used to, but he did not complain. He clung to Fukutomi tightly and shut his eyes, trying to memorize this moment. It didn't feel real, it was too surreal.
"You are the greatest cyclist I have ever met," Fukutomi said, and something like relief and unbridled joy bloomed in Arakita's chest. He hadn't know just how badly he had needed to hear those words until they were spoken. He didn't know how much his own sense of self-worth had hung on hearing Fukutomi approve of him, until it had happened. Arakita began to cry silently, overwhelmed.
"You too," he said, and, feeling like it was not good enough for a confession, "You're the greatest cyclist I've ever met! I've always thought so! I love you, Fuku-chan!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and a hollow sense of dread filled him for a moment when Fukutomi tensed. Then, after a moment, Fukutomi tightened his hold on Arakita.
"I love you, too," And just like that, nothing else mattered.
Everything was fine.
LEAVE ME ALONE I JUST WANT THEM TO BE TOGETHER
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED I'M SORRY FOR ANY OOC-NESS
i didn't edit this much so if you catch any mistakes, feel free to let me know. it's like four am and i just want to get this up before i regret writing it. thank you for reading!