"He heard you could see your future inside a glass of water. The ripples and the rhymes…he asked, 'will I see heaven in mine?' "
The two of you were walking home together—you and Yamamoto, that was. He was going on about how well he'd done on some exam and you were nodding, adding little ihmmm/i's here and there to make it sound like you were listening, when really what you were doing was waiting.
"So, yeah, considering how much I crammed the night before, I'm pretty satisfied with a B-minus!" He struggled to keep up with you on his crutches, for his right foot wasn't working as he would've liked, and you slowed down the pace even more. "What did you get?"
"A solid A," you replied absently.
Yamamoto whistled appreciatively. "Good to know Gokudera's tutoring is working for one of us!"
You smiled. It was your highest exam grade in the class so far and you were proud of it, and under normal circumstances, you would've taken the opportunity to boast about it to Yamamoto but there were other matters. Instead, you stopped walking and Yamamoto paused in his strides beside you, fixing you with a questioning gaze.
"What's up, (y/n)?"
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, going onto your tiptoe to hug him. His arms began to settle low on your waist, to hug you back and support you as you stood off-balanced, but before he could even ask why you were embracing him so suddenly, you moved one of your hands down and pressed your palm flat against his abdomen.
Yamamoto let go of you so quickly, you thought you'd fall. He had sucked in his breath and he reeled back now, almost losing his balance as he did so. One hand had automatically gone to his stomach and he curled it there, shielding it, protecting it from any more damage.
His face was dark with pain and though he tried to hide it, he could not. "Wh-what was that for?"
"The hug or the touching?" you shot back coolly.
His lips thinned.
"Yama-kun," you said, your voice soft and practically inaudible, "How did you injure your stomach?"
"Training," he said breezily.
Then Yamamoto, who never let his temper, if he even had one, get the best of him, gave you an uncharacteristically scalding look before repositioning himself on his crutches and hobbling forward, walking as fast as one could on those metal things.