𝗯 𝘆 :: 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿 [[𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗼]]
𝗳 𝗶 𝗹 𝗲  𝘁 𝘆 𝗽 𝗲 :: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁
𝘄 𝗮 𝗿 𝗻 𝗶 𝗻 𝗴 :: 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘂𝘆𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿

Haitani Rindou was fifteen when he met you. In the teeth-chattering cold, in the pouring rain, a pink umbrella was held over his head. He turned to face your confused form standing behind him, wondering why one of the infamous Haitani brothers was squatting pathetically at the side of the road in the rain. You welcomed him into your home and sheltered him for the day. That day, the unfamiliarity between a well-known gang member and a normal girl blossomed into a wild friendship.

You were sixteen when you fell in love with your crazy bastard of a best friend. You didn't know what good in him (perhaps there was none) attracted you to him, but maybe it was the midnights spent speeding through the streets of Roppongi on his motorcycle, both arms tightly secured around his waist. Or maybe it was the way his back pressed against yours during your gang fights together, a comforting heat transferring from Tenjiku uniform to Tenjiku uniform. It could even be the little play fights the both of you had, kicking each other in the legs and pulling each other into tight headlocks which always ended in the both of you a laughing and roughed-up mess, his hair and your heart all over the place.

Haitani Rindou was sixteen when he rejected you. You came into the cafe at 7 p.m. like you told him you were, wearing a pretty black dress, a stark contrast against your usual casual, don't-care style. He watched with suspicion as you put your purse down before sitting down in an almost shy way, lacking the comfortable familiarity of dropping your wallet and your butt roughly onto the chair.

In an uncharacteristically nervous tone, you talked about random boring topics like the weather, and how good the coffee tasted. You were hiding something and he knew it. Rindou furrowed his eyebrows and told you to stop beating around the bush. You stood up abruptly in front of him, closed your eyes tight and bowed in front of him, saying that you loved him.

"Are you done practising confessing to your crush or should I join in too?" was his sarcastic reply, subtly but blatantly rejecting you in the most painful way possible. He didn't see the tears that fell from your eyes as you excused yourself to the restroom in the shop next door, taking your purse and never coming back to join him again.

You were eighteen when you forgot Rindou existed. You laughed at one of Chifuyu's jokes again as you walked into the pet store together, hand in hand.

Haitani Rindou was eighteen when he saw you again. After he rejected you, things between the both of you got awkward. From 'best friends', you became 'friends', and from that to 'acquaintances'. Soon the close relationship you had crumbled to nothing. Rindou was zooming around the city on his bike again—alone, without you pressed against his back arms wrapped around him. He wished he hadn't looked to his right when the red light flashed.

Because there you were, dressed in your  casual, don't-care style, your hand in another man's. The man looked awfully familiar, and Rindou was sure he had beaten him up somewhere, sometime, but he couldn't care less. He watched as you flashed the man a bright smile, the both of you laughing as you entered a pet shop, hands still intertwined.

It hurt, he thought. Maybe this was how you felt when he turned you down so rudely that day. But ever since you fled the café and started getting awkward with him, he wished he could have done so many things for you. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked in that dress that day, or heck, every day. He wanted to be that man, holding your hand in his and making you laugh. He wanted to be the one that confessed to you, even, to see a pleasantly surprised look on your face as you hug him tightly telling him you love him back.

Red light turns to green, and he looks away. He doesn't deserve you, so he should just watch from afar. Haitani Rindou sped away on his bike, his eyes feeling a little wet, body lacking the warmth you would have provided of you were there with him on his bike.

Or maybe he just shouldn't look at all.