Disclaimer: Again, like all the other stories I've written, I don't own Sekaiichi Hatsukoi.
Wow, this turned out better than I thought.
1.
Masamune hissed quietly at the purpling bruise on his lower jaw as he entered the school library, as silent as it usually was after everyone else left. Oddly, his little Oda wasn't there to greet him like always, bright-eyed and all smiles for his "Saga-senpai". Though, it could've been due to the unexpected kicking that Ritsu had given him after innocently asking if he loved him. What kind of stupid question was that? They'd been dating for a month already and Masamune could distinctly remember saying those three sacred words to him after they slept together the first night.
Ah, well. It wasn't any of his business what Oda did after school, or so he told the slight twinge of irritation in his chest.
So he continued doing what he usually did after school for the past several years of his life: getting lost in the sea of words and black and white ink, forgetting everything, his mind all the while straying to some idiot, adorable kouhai and the strange emptiness in the room without his presence.
Oda didn't come the next day, either.
Or the next.
Or the next week.
Finally, after holding out for two weeks—something he thought he'd never be able to do—Masamune took the stairs down to the first year's classrooms during their break, ignoring the high-pitched chattering that rose up when they saw him. Ritsu was in Class…which was it? Wow, he didn't even know—or remember—which class his own boyfriend was in. How pathetic.
Letting out an inaudible sigh, Masamune poked his head into one of the classrooms, gathering the attention of the teacher—and everyone else who happened to still be in the room.
"May I help you?" The teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Is there a 'Ritsu Oda' who happens to be in your class?" He tried not to show his concern, schooling his features into perfect disinterest. The other kids just stared at him in awe, like he was some kind of magnificent alien from another world.
One of them, a boy with brown curls and eyes, stood up. "Do you mean Ritsu-kun, Senpai?"
Before Masamune could even nod, the guy continued, even going so far as to walk a few steps in his direction. "If you do, then we haven't seen him for two weeks, and…some of us are wondering where he is."
…these first years don't know where Oda is? Where…is he, then? He didn't say anything about going anywhere…he would tell me, wouldn't he? His heart gave a sudden jolt, and he pressed a hand there, wondering what in the world that was.
"…Senpai?" The boy tentatively asked. His mannerisms almost reminded Masamune of Ritsu, but no, not quite. Another jolt. "Do you know where Ritsu is?"
"…no, I don't," Masamune answered quietly, then stepped out the door with a muttered 'sorry' to the teacher for wasting their time. The classroom burst into loud conversation as soon as he left, but there could've been an earthquake for all he cared.
Ritsu was gone. He was gone, and nobody could find him. Where would he be?
Leaning against an empty corner of the school building, Masamune finally let his emotions out of the jar. He had to kneel with how shaky his knees were, his hands, his shoulders. There weren't any tears, no, but his stomach hurt from how hard he was trying not to cry.
Ritsu was gone. Poof. Out of sight. Just like that.
His chest ached terribly, like there was a knife carving his initials into it; Ritsu Oda, the scars read.
Stab. Stab. Scrape.
By the time the knife stopped working along his heart lining, he was bleeding terribly, and there wasn't any way for it to stop.
2.
Ritsu had gone to England for overseas studying. But Masamune could barely arm himself with this earth-shattering information before the bomb really dropped: he and his mother were moving, and his father wasn't his real father.
His father wasn't his real father.
Even after repeating that numbly to himself twenty times, he still couldn't understand what it really meant.
His father wasn't his real father.
His father wasn't—
Masamune collapsed onto his bed, the weight of all this heartbreak crashing down on him at once. He suddenly didn't even know what to do. Not in the next minute, not in the next hour, not in the next five years. What could he do? He couldn't even...couldn't—
The tremors started up again, though this time, more violently, until he couldn't even feel his legs, his arms, his face. Faintly, as if he wasn't really there, only his body, he made an odd wheezing noise, like he couldn't breathe. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he secretly had a case of severe asthma all these years and never knew and now he was going to die, all because some dickhead had married his mom and pretended to be his father for seventeen years.
Did his mother know? Did she know all this time that he wasn't his real father? Masamune felt a bubble of loathing grow in his stomach. One bubble for Oda, for not coming back and making Masamune feel all these things for him. One bubble for his mother, for disregarding him all these years and not telling him. One bubble for his fake father, just for that reason. And one bubble for humanity in general, for forcing him to feel this way, this broken, sad thing that had so much misfortune in such a short amount of time.
Why did the world hate him?
The loathing came together and formed another knife, this one sharper than the previous one.
Stab. Stab. Stab. STAB.
He was used to the bleeding already. The first time had healed such an ugly red thing that it wouldn't have taken much to start the river again. Now he was just numbness, nothing.
He let out a long sigh, and his chest compressed with the weight of all the emotions he would never be able to express.
3.
If anyone asked him, in one of his more lucid states, why he brought the kid back to his apartment in the first place, he'd probably say, "None of your damn business." If anyone asked Yokozawa why Masamune happened to bring the kid home, he'd probably say the same thing. But both of them knew that the kid—who was barely 17, had short brown hair, and was most probably the cutest thing to ever walk the planet—looked almost exactly like that old lover of his back in high school, the one nobody talked about in front of him if they knew him. It was one of those taboo subjects that was listed under "Never mention to Masamune Takano (Saga was scribbled out)", right next to "fathers" and "high school libraries".
There was a very long list.
But that wasn't the point; the point was that Masamune had taken the kid to his apartment, and they were getting undressed and that pale smooth skin was enough to make him forget that the guy underneath him wasn't some random stranger he'd met, but Ritsu Oda. Even the name was enough to get him hard and ready through the ancient throb in his chest at even thinking of it.
"Ahn…ah!" The kid—Masamune didn't even know his name, the extent to how desperate he was to remember for just one night—cried out as he thrusted in suddenly, member buried to the hilt. Masamune grunted quietly, but otherwise didn't make any other sound as their hips moved together in a sloppy rhythm.
The kid was inexperienced, almost embarrassingly so, but Masamune could only think about how messy and innocent and utterly ravishing his Oda had looked the first time they made love. Green eyes hazy and wet, cheeks pinked up, that sweet mouth making the most sinful cries into the night as Masamune had pushed harder and harder into him. A sudden wave of loathing, deep hatred came over him then.
I hate you! He shouted in his mind, overcome with emotion and feeling. I hate you, I hate you, he continued as the thrusts became even messier and the kid's cries became even louder. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU, he nearly screamed out loud as the boy came, back arching high up in the air. Masamune couldn't even bring himself to completion, so overwhelmed with unexpected disgust at the kid below him; his erection disappeared as quickly as it came, and he pulled out.
But the kid still looked like Ritsu after he came, and his slender torso was heaving up and down with spent breath and Masamune just needed something to hold onto before he could degenerate into another one of his panic attacks; so he collapsed on top of him, bringing him so close he almost couldn't breathe.
"…sorry," Masamune rasped, burying his face into the kid's brown hair, pretending it was Ritsu. "Can I just hold you?"
The kid hesitantly held fast as well, voice confused as he answered, "Yes."
Bleeding, so much blood.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
…
I hate that I can't forget you.
4.
Years passed.
He graduated. Yokozawa introduced him to Marukawa Publishing, and he whipped the dying Emerald department back into shape.
Ritsu Oda seemed more like a distant dream now than an actual memory. Masamune couldn't even remember the exact shade of those green eyes anymore. Or how tall he was. He wasn't even sure if the guy's name even was Ritsu. Was it? Or something like Riku? Ritsuo? Ah, well. He was too busy with work to have time to think about old problems like that. Maybe the guy was just some classmate from high school. Masamune didn't like to think of high school, for some reason that he couldn't exactly place.
Fast forward a few years, and suddenly—
There he was. There was Ritsu Oda, now Onodera. His parents must have divorced; the thought made Masamune remember his own parent's divorce, something that he barely even gave the time of day to anymore. Everything back then stayed there.
Even so, Masamune couldn't stop. He couldn't stop the intense emotions he felt in Onodera's presence, that feeling of overwhelming longing that pulsed within his veins whenever he caught sight of his subordinate. He couldn't stop kissing him, couldn't stop confessing his love, couldn't, couldn't—there was nothing he couldn't do when it came to Ritsu.
It was frightening how much power he still had over him—even now, even ten years later.
Well, sort of.
"Why are you here?" Masamune asked, slightly irritated that he had to run into his subordinate even at the library.
With a loud shout of surprise, Onodera turned towards him and stammered out, "T-takano-san!" He glared, and with no small amount of displeasure, retorted, "Why are you following me?"
Oi, I'm not some kind of stalker. "Why the hell would I be following you?!" Masamune walked towards the book drop and continued, "Has it occurred to you that I might be returning a book, too?"
A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. "Do you borrow books from the library often?" Ritsu asked from behind him, almost in a curious sort of way.
"Yeah," Masamune answered. "They've got a lot of out of print and rare books here. Ones you can't get in a bookstore anymore." He dropped his books into the slot, wondering why the sound of them dropping filled him with a sort of strange satisfaction.
"Then I'll be going now." There was a rustle of clothing.
It didn't occur to him until just now, but Masamune realized that he was terribly possessive of Ritsu, even if they weren't officially together. That Hasegawa at work earlier brought a surge of jealousy through him.
"I don't want you getting chummy with people from other departments," he said abruptly, before Onodera could leave.
"And why is that?"
His expression darkened behind his bangs as he thought about his Ritsu possibly meeting up with Hasegawa, Ritsu laughing with Hasegawa, Ritsu dating Hasegawa…it was enough to seriously anger him, and his tone reflected that when he bit out, "It's annoying."
"It's not like we were talking about things unrelated to work," came the answer, immediately on guard.
"You were though."
Ritsu's voice rose as he said, "And how is that your business?! Mr. Hasegawa was just trying to make me feel welcome, and you had to butt in!" Masamune's mood dropped even lower, and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to calm himself down.
"Or what, are you jealous of Mr. Hasegawa?" Onodera continued when there wasn't an answer. "That's it, that's why you were picking a fight," he laughed, like he couldn't believe that Masamune was capable of that sort of petty jealousy.
Finally, Masamune turned to face him, expression stony. Of course I was jealous, idiot. Does it really take a rocket scientist to figure that out? Ritsu gasped lightly and quickly moved to leave. "Goodbye." He ran across the sidewalk and down the stairs, and all the while Masamune couldn't—or didn't want to—move, right until one of those brown loafers slipped on some leaves and—
Thump thump thump thump thumpthumpthump—
Masamune couldn't even breathe as he clutched Ritsu to him, saving him from falling and possibly hurting himself—what if he'd hurt himself? I'd never be able…able to… He almost trembled, his heart racing, panicked. He wanted to spout some words of reassurance, something like, "I'm here" or "You'll be okay", but instead he found himself scolding:
"You idiot! You could've cracked your head open! Watch where the hell you're going!" And then where would we be? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt…and then…then…
Ritsu pulled back just enough to stutter, "T-thank you. I guess I slipped on some of these fallen leaves. That…was scary…"
He didn't say anything, for fear of letting his desperate panic leak through his voice. His heart, his mind refused to calm down. He couldn't stop imagining situations in which he wasn't able to catch Ritsu, was just a second too late and Ritsu would be so injured and—
Quietly, Masamune leaned forward and held the one he loved again, wanting to make sure he was still there and okay; he forced images of blood-stained sidewalks from his mind. The stitches that had formed over time on his heart throbbed, threatening to break free and bleed again.
He held fast, not wanting to let go.
5.
They were getting somewhere today.
The subway ride home had abruptly stopped and the lights had turned off. Masamune, being the brilliant opportunist that he was, had taken the chance to lean over and kiss Onodera in the dark, where nobody could see them. The glare he got in return was worth it.
And as they walked up to their apartment building from the subway opening, he got to hold Ritsu's hand, with…well, almost no resistance and the excuse that Masamune was only doing it so that he had to come over. It wasn't as if Ritsu could pull himself away, anyways.
Masamune was very pleased with this turn of events; there was hope yet that Ritsu would become his.
Well…just until they reached the entrance to the apartment building.
"Rittie?" A sweet voice called. A girl with light brown hair and a bag in her hand was standing there, cheeks red from the cold. "Oh, good," she continued, "I thought maybe I had the wrong place."
Onodera quickly jerked his hand away. "An!"
With a start, Masamune realized he knew who this was. Not just the girl that had called Ritsu earlier at work, but his fiancée. His heart dropped to his stomach.
"I texted you. Did you not see it?" She asked, a wide smile on her face.
"Sorry, I was on the subway. But it's way too cold for you to be waiting outside!" He exclaimed as he hurried towards her.
She lifted her bag up. "It's fine. I haven't been waiting that long. And…" Rummaging around, she finally pulled out two different-colored paper bags and handed them to him. "I wanted to see you anyway. Here, this is for you." As if just noticing he was there, An looked over Ritsu's shoulder at Masamune. "Is that a friend of yours?"
"Eh? Ah..." Onodera explained as Masamune walked towards him. "He's my neighbor."
"I see. Good evening," she greeted politely and bowed. "Thanks for looking after Rittie."
Rittie. What the hell kind of nickname is that?
Masamune had to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he forced a smile. "It's no problem," he heard himself saying." Turning to Ritsu, he asked, "Is this your girlfriend?"
Ritsu made a surprised noise. "No, it's not like that!"
"What do you mean, 'No'? How can you say that?" An piped up indignantly.
This was hurting too much. Masamune turned and shuffled to the apartment building entrance, not wanting to intrude on their obvious need for privacy. What a terrible thought. He was so close, so close to breaking those walls between them.
"Hey, Takano-san!" He heard Onodera call after him, but just as suddenly, An reeled in his attention again.
He heard their conversation in the winter night as clear as if they were standing right next to him. Each word stabbed at his chest, and Masamune wondered if he and Ritsu would ever be that comfortable around each other.
Probably not, he thought to himself as he entered the building, feeling the cold at his back all the way up to the 12th floor.
Inside, Masamune nearly took off his coat before that aching feeling filled his heart once more. He looked around his tidy apartment; there was almost nothing in there that spoke of his personality, maybe only a few books. Besides those, he could've not even been living there. It was too empty in here. He slid his coat back on; maybe he could see his cat, even though it was rather late at night.
Just as he was getting ready to leave, his doorbell rang. There really was nobody else it could be, not unless Yokozawa had decided on some kind of impromptu midnight visit.
"Yes," he answered quietly.
"Ah!" Masamune heard from the other side of the door. "It's me, Onodera."
As if he didn't already know that. "What?"
"I was wondering if you might want some mochi? My parents made it for New Year's, but there's no way I can eat this all myself."
That's what that idiot rang his doorbell for? Something as commonplace as mochi? Could it be Ritsu…wanted to see him without outright saying it?
….right.
"It'll all go in the trash if you don't take it off my hands!" Ritsu continued, sounding slightly panicked.
Masamune let out a quiet sigh and opened the door, wondering if he really was a masochist for constantly letting this guy in like this.
"Ah." Onodera perked up. "Here you go." He held out a box.
He took the box from his hands. "Should I put this in the fridge?"
"No. Put it in the freezer."
"Alright. Thank you." Masamune made to close the door, but Onodera pushed his way in.
What did he want?
"So…"
"What?"
"About that girl from before. She's not my girlfriend or anything. I just didn't want you to have the wrong idea. She's just someone I've known for a long time. That's all." For some reason, the way in which he said it was…almost desperate, like he wanted Masamune to understand something really important.
How could you misunderstand someone being your fiancée? There's no other meaning about it. A fiancée is a fiancée, and Ritsu had had this fiancée even when they were dating in high school. How terrible.
"…you mean she's your fiancée." Ritsu gasped sharply, flushing. "I hit the nail on the head. It looks like you two get along great." Masamune tried not to let the words hurt any more than they already did. He turned his head away as Onodera looked up at him, not needing to see the sorry expression that he no doubt would have.
"I'm sorry, but I'm going out now, so do you mind?" Masamune continued. Stab. Stab.
"At this time of night…are you going to the convenience store?"
"I'm going to go see my cat." Masamune shuffled inside to put the mochi away, then came back out, intending to leave this lonely apartment, leave the overwhelming choking feeling grabbing hold of his throat.
Quite as suddenly, Ritsu grabbed onto his arm.
"What?"
"There really is absolutely nothing between her and me!" Ritsu asserted. "Our parents decided this fiancé bit, but neither of us takes it seriously at all!" Well…that was new information. Unexpectedly, Masamune wanted to listen to what Ritsu had to say. He wanted reassurance that Ritsu didn't love her, that there really was nothing between them like he'd said just now.
Please…
Please.
Please give me something that'll tell me all I've done isn't for naught.
"It's the truth!" He continued. "We were friends as kids. We're both only children, so we're like siblings."
But…
"That girl's in love with you, isn't she?" There was absolutely no way she wouldn't have done what she did otherwise. Onodera made a noise of confusion. "You say you're just friends, but she was standing out in the bitter cold, waiting for you until her face turned red."
"But that's…"
Tch…this guy will definitely kill me one day.
"You're so dense when it comes to things like this."
"But…"
"Anyway, why are you telling me this?" This. Whatever Ritsu told him next would either make or break the situation. Masamune didn't expect a love confession out of the blue, but he wanted…something, anything, to show him that he was important to his first love.
Ritsu looked at a loss of what to say. "Why, indeed…?"
"…let go."
No surprise that he really did. Masamune headed towards his front door, only to suddenly jerk to a stop when two hands clamped down on his forearms.
"That girl confessed her feelings to me a long time ago, but I rejected her."
"Why?"
If Ritsu didn't shove down his pride enough to say something honest, something that reflected what he really felt, then…it was basically all over. His heart gave a jolt as he waited in anticipation of Ritsu's next words.
Please don't let me bleed anymore.
"I told her I was in love with someone else." Those same hands crumpled his jacket sleeves, nearly begging Masamune to understand what he couldn't say. "That's why…"
"Why, what?"
"I'm asking you to please not go to Yokozawa's."
This.
This.
Finally, some indication of Ritsu's feelings for him. Maybe it wasn't exactly what he wanted, but with someone like his subordinate, it wouldn't be so simple as to get an "I love you" out of him. His thoughts and expression relaxed, and, guiding Ritsu towards the door, he kissed him gently. Ritsu's hand underneath his felt like the warmest thing he'd ever known.
It was only a band aid over those deep scars, but it would work.
1.
I came to an epiphany tonight, underneath that narrow overhang in the rain, standing next to Ritsu Onodera while we finally laid out all our past problems in front of us, raw and bare for the other to see. Honestly, most of what I said was improvisation; there wasn't a script on what to say or how to act. The whole scene seemed disjointed when I really think about it, but of course, real life wasn't a manga in which everything went the way I wanted to.
But somehow…it did all work out. Somehow, through some insane circumstances. Maybe the Fates up there finally took pity on me, after putting me through so much hell earlier in my life.
Yokozawa didn't piss me off often—it happened once every blue moon, probably—but having him meddle in between what was only mine and Ritsu's was irritating. Of course, I could rationalize his actions: he was only looking out for me. Still, that gave him no excuse to brainwash Ritsu's mind into thinking everything that happened to me in college was completely his fault. And I really hoped that Ritsu understood that. I really, truly hoped he did.
Anyways, that epiphany. If I don't explain it in time, Ritsu will probably wonder what I'm doing and get all pissy and—
Ahem.
I came to the realization that those scars—the ones that I'd had inflaming and ruining my heart most of my life—they were because I never had the chance for acceptance. I'd never accepted that Ritsu Oda had left even though he said he loved me; I'd never accepted that my father wasn't my real father; I've never accepted anything. So nothing had healed. But, as I said before, underneath that overhang in the rain, I let go of all those burdens that I'd kept so tightly locked within me in all those ten years.
There never was a lighter feeling after that.
Except, having Ritsu almost say "I love you".
I still blame the rain for that.
Also—before I forget—Ritsu, that little fucker—I wonder what kind of ridiculous thoughts he was having in his head when he made his last name Oda instead of Onodera back in high school. I almost felt sorry for him, that idiot. No wonder he looked so confused when I empathized with his parents divorcing.
I love him too much regardless.
If only I knew back then how sweet having Ritsu loving me would be, I wouldn't have made the mistake of ever letting him go.
Well…thank god for second chances.
A/N: SO. This took me like four days. I started getting bored just re-typing all the original dialogue from the anime, so I had to kind of force myself to type out 4. and 5. while re-watching the episodes the dialogue came from. Jeez.
Also, I DEFINITELY DO NOT OWN SEKAIICHI HATSUKOI because I feel like intentionally copying the dialogue will cause some copyrighting problems. I hope this fic doesn't get taken off because of that. I worked so hard on it. –cries
The second 1. there means a new beginning, by the way. So symbolic, huh? And I made the last one in first point of view because why not? I was also too lazy to type out all like ten or more minutes of their confession scene underneath the rain, because Christ, that'd take way too long and I wanted to get this posted today.
Are those all the author's notes? I think so. Hope you guys didn't get bored reading this. Go Masamune angst.
-ChemicallyEnhanced
