[They are in a bedroom. And Ryuji's got some weird ideas for what constitutes as foreplay.
(It's a joke. ...About half of it is a joke.)
Truth be told very little of this would've been ushered into the hallowed pages of Akira's own textbook for maintaining human friendships, especially before a few weeks ago, but then again, that book wasn't particularly lengthy or well-illustrated. After all, he couldn't say he held too many close friends besides Ryo and Miki; all of the others seemed to fall into the realm of proximal acquaintances (many of which he picked up just by hanging around the latter at school and at track). Between Ryuji and himself, it probably just would've progressed to him sending him stupid text messages in the middle of the night, but then Ryuji's friend had to shit-talk Akira's friend, and now here they are.
It's kinda stupid but, well, so is Akira, sometimes.
A hn sort of sound comes from his throat, like a grin transmitted into an audible format.] Aw, stop. You'll make me blush. [He's too busy enjoying the construction of the situation to do something like that, but he's just having fun with how much Ryuji's willing to play along.
But Ryuji's little gambit, though... come on, dude. You have to know Akira would've been expecting something like that, right? He remains resolute, his chin tilting up a bit in challenge.] You gonna sing me a song or somethin' first? C'mon, Ryuji.
[When it comes down to it, Ryuji only knows how to make unconventional style friendships. He's pretty much accepted that his normal routing for this type of behavior (delinquency) has made him this way, and he's, for the most part, accepted that part of himself. And who's to say that he wouldn't spend hours upon hours eventually up one night, texting Akira with the dumbest shit known to creation? An effort that thoroughly bores Ryo out of his prying eyes (Hi, Ryo, are you reading this too?)
Ryuji's fairly certain that Akira would not be the type of person to blush when presented with a throwdown of this epic proportion. It sounds fake. It's totally fake. That doesn't mean that it also doesn't fill Ryuji's heart with a small bit of joy, knowing the layers upon layers of absurdity that file in between the cracks. Sure. Blush away, dude.]
Aight. Your funeral, man.
[He clears his throat. And what continues is an eldritch terror the world should never have been privy to.]
Demon's underwear are good underwear. They are strong, they are strong! They are made of tiger skin. They are strong~ they are strong~ [The rowdy shout of strong is.
Equally ridiculous.] Wear them for 5 years! They won't tear. They are strong. They are strong. Weaaaar them for 10 years---
[SMACK!
He goes for the first attempt at swatting his hand, thinking that his voice would be the ultimate siren's song to distract Akira from noticing his hand movements. It's haunting. Beautiful. Totally punk.
Except, you don't really win in a contest of agility versus a devilman. He should learn that.]
[One might not expect it from the first few interactions with him, but Akira is new to delinquency. Before he'd exchanged his human body for the one he had now, he'd been entirely unremarkable, never really having enough spine to cause much trouble (or, well, it was more that he did, he just would prefer not make ripples that others could notice). And for as much as he talks the big talk, it'd never be in his intention to actually hurt someone. It was mostly posturing, just as he figured most of everyone else's sharp words were. He may be defensive of Ryo, but it wasn't like he was actually going to go and hurt another human being over it, not when it could be talked out.
With Ryuji, though, this sort of thing felt like talking it out. It was just a specific dialect shared between two rowdy idiots, prepared to put their bodies and their egos on the line to defend the honor of their dearest friends.
Physical contest and inane texting conversations. They were two mighty pillars for the construction of a strong friendship, right?
He gives a challenging sneer to the first comment. Sure, Ryuji. Sure.
But everything else, well...
Akira wasn't expecting for him to actually sing.
At first he stands in shock, the sneer frozen to his face, and then it is slowly wiped away and replaced with a stunned look of disbelief. He... fuck, does he remember this song? Something about it sounds vaguely familiar, caught in-between Fisher-Price memories of early childhood. And he just keeps going, emphasizing the silliness of the song, and Akira can't help but laugh, not at him but at the ridiculousness of the situation, how willing he was to jump into this particular strategy.
Too bad it wouldn't be quite enough.
Akira didn't need his eyes or his ears to play the game; he feels the sudden hum of tension run through Ryuji's arms, terminating in the barest contact of their hands. His begin to lift. So Akira moves immediately, and fast, flipping his hands over Ryuji's and bringing them down to smack against the backs of his opponents'.
And he does so pretty lightly, by his standards. Again, he doesn't want to hurt him. But it'll probably sting like hell.
He gives a big, toothy grin.] Nice try. But I think you won the bigger battle in our war of attrition. I'm gonna have that damn song stuck in my head for days now.
[It's kind of like that, isn't it? No one ever is born into the role of rebellion; there's always a turning moment. Always some sort of pinpoint precision where there's a point of no return, and once that threshold is crossed, it changes a person. Ryuji stopped caring what people thought about him long enough ago that it almost doesn't register who he was before he broke his leg.
(somewhat untrue though; as much as he tried to change his outward appearance and renounced societal values, he always retained a soft heart and the urge to defend the downtrodden. But if people didn't care to see that in him, he didn't have to care for them. There was no room in him to respect a world that didn't respect him.)
And when, or if, that conversation ever happens between him and Akira, Ryuji will be ready for it. They'll realize how much they have in common, and yet how little they do at the same time. Either way, he'll embrace Akira and support him. Those who are misunderstood will always get Ryuji's attention- and maybe, by then, Ren and Ryo will have buried the hatchet. If not, then, well, these two idiots will have to do it for them.
In the meantime, he recoils his hands back as they're slapped. Holy shit, that's a lot more than he expected out of the dude. Ryuji rubs the back of his hands, taken aback by how red they actually are. Call him a bit masochistic, but this at least quelled the urge to have his knuckles run into something- a dumb boy who gets into fights at the drop of a hat and enjoys the ever loving hell out of them. Placated in his own bout of self destructive habits, he raises an eyebrow at Akira.]
Damn, man. Do you do those hand crunches on weights? You know, the spring loaded ones? I dunno what they're called, but I had one back at home.
[It gave his hands something to do when he was reading manga, working two fold in keeping his attention in line. Later, when he had met Makoto and started earnestly caring about school, he found himself doing the same thing when reading his textbooks. Even if he didn't retain a ton of information, he wanted to do better because his team expected it of him. Ryuji always wants to rise to the challenge when it's given.]
Haha... that was one of my favorite songs when I was a kid. I think I tortured my mom with it. [Sad, thinking about her. He misses her so much already.]
That's the type of game I play. I may not win every skirmish, but the long con is the goal, here. [There's a cheeky smile to be had here, and an outstretched hand.]
[ Ryuji'd gone somewhere. A full day of being emotionally dead inside, being vaguely angry at the barest though of Akechi, pushing back at shitty people overreaching on the network and having their significant others push back - it's hard work for a sleep-deprived teen. It's also what passes for fun out here in deadass nowhere and Ren could do without it. He could do without being instantly distrustful of strangers' intentions, being unsure of his own place, and his best friend wandering off to accidentally trip and, like, get vacuumed out of a space toilet.
Guess... it doesn't matter where you go. Once you get used to being an opposing force it's hard to know what else to do with yourself, even if it wasn't important - being delinquents who challenge the status quo. Ren isn't so far removed from that time as to forget; on the contrary his entire worldview wouldn't quite untilt itself back to the complacency from Before. Usually it isn't like this, though. Usually he could hold his tongue and avoid making a scene. But the thought that Ryuji put in his head, the possibility of this place being it for them made Ren afraid in a way he's never experienced even if he did assuage those fears openly. A primal fear of losing the people he loves most, of sloth when he could've done something about it. It like he can't let anything, not even a network post that might not even be harmful, slip past.
Delinquency that carries responsibility. What's the world come to, eh?
Regardless, he doesn't know that he'll be apologizing to Asuka. Doesn't know what he'd say anyway. "Sorry my shitbag alarm bells were going off like crazy, it's not personal"? Akira Fudo might come pound him if he feels like it, but it's not like he'd know Ren on sight.
Wandering past a door, the sound of voices makes Ren curiously peer inside and see two goon looking mofos grinning at each other. ]
Oh, there you are. [ Mild as you like, Ren smiles faintly at Ryuji, standing straight and sliding his hands into his jumpsuit pockets. ] I managed to get the food replicators to make something that tastes vaguely like katsu-curry, if you're in.
[ If your large friend will let you go to your friend friend Renren. ]
And he's not terribly wrong, truthfully. Out of anyone in their group, Ryuji's the one with the most abstract curiosity towards things like buttons and places that he shouldn't be. He was the one who tipped Ren off to the off-limits rooftop of the school, which became their first hideout... at least until Makoto came and ruined it in one fell swoop. Who could tell if he wouldn't stumble upon something in the station one second, and then the next poof- an immediate, horrible type of death.
Good thing he has people around him to ground him and stop him from doing stupid shit like that. Present goof, excluded, of course, because Akira and Ryuji were perfect hype men for each other's dumb fucking ideas.
The blond's smile is sincere, sheepish almost. Like in an apologetic sort of way that says Gotta cut this short, sorry, man. We'll have a round two later... that might give off a ton of impressions to anyone watching. Ryuji always seems like a better person when he's around Ren. More calm. Composed. Not about to flip his shit at any given moment, but rather holding it back and waiting for the right moment. That's their cadence, after all.]
HELL YEAH! What's the spice level on that?
[Instation voices, Ryuji. Please. Some people might have sensitive ears.
(Screw 'em.)
Wrapping an arm around his bestie, he looks over at Akira with a challenging smirk.]
[Maybe at one point they would talk about it, talk about the feeling of being slightly displaced in the world, how the plights of others could ring more true than their own suffering, causing them to leap into interference that could sometimes get them into some serious trouble. In a lot of ways they were cut from the same cloth, and that's why they were both here, remaining good-natured and open as they performed the song and dance of dueling for their best friends' honor.
Though it seems, simply to judge on the game agreed upon, Akira has won. He tilts his head to one side, eyes a little blank. Something clicks into recognition as Ryuji continues.] Oh. Yeah, I know what you're talkin' about. [But he just shakes his head.] Nah, sorry, man. Guess I'm just a natural.
[Demonic possession made you a natural at a lot of things. Not all of them were good.
Akira grins widely, nodding as a hum catches in his throat.] I see, I see... [He regards the oustretched hand before reaching out to clasp it, firmly but not in a way that would hurt what he'd already caused to sting.] Yeah. Truce. If you play that kinda long game, I think I'm lucky to get off that easy.
[Truth be told, he'd prefer not have to bristle at Ryuji or Ren, even if it was largely in jest. He likes the guys. He doesn't think they're the bad sort. He just... wishes they'd back off Ryo, because it just pisses him off when he sees people bullying him (from his perspective).
Speaking of.]
Hnn? [Akira turns to face the stranger with an arched eyebrow; having only talked with him on the network, of course he wouldn't have had a clue as to who the person was until being otherwise enlightened. Though, fuck, katsu-curry sounds good...
He'd have to try to coax something like that out of the replicators later, even though what he usually managed to get out of them was faintly-flavored slop.
Akira is a very keen observer of people, though, and he does notice the change in Ryuji's energy as the guy walks in. It starts to paint the picture of an idea as to who he is, though he's not going to jump to any conclusions without knowing for sure.]
Uhhh, no, I don't think so. [But there's a keenness to that word and a sharpness in his gaze that suspects otherwise.]
Mm... three? I think I broke the scale with my special curry back home so the taste buds are kinda too refined for what the mess hall is capable of. Sucks.
[ Praise be to the little sprouts growing in Haru's garden. Grow, tiny seeds, grow into big, magnificent foods for them to eat so that their lives are no longer as full of suffering on the culinary front and Ren will give them all the moist and super plant foods they desire.
It's hard not to see Ryuji's big, stupid smile and not think of a puppy bounding toward him waiting for Ren to give him a nice that'll do, pig or something. No one else crashes into Ren with that energy, no one else bounces off him with this innate knowing of the level they're operating on, automatically matching. Ryuji calms down, Ren perks up, it's all good in the neighborhood.
He's shaking his head at Akira, sure that Ryuji would blurt it out anyway so this allows him a modicum of demureness. Ren's in no hurry, he got someone to watch his food while he went in search of his wayward Chariot. ]
Eheh, I'm no one important. Ryuji's prone to excitability, I'm sure you've noticed.
No, this doesn't need introspection, it jumps right out of Ryuji's mouth in incredulity.]
No one important? The hell.
[That's the biggest nothing statement he's ever heard from the other, and maybe he was trying? to keep a low profile, but there's something about Ryuji that insists this is just... surely not possible.]
Akira, meet Ren, Ren- Akira. This here's my best friend. And a giant pain in the butt.
[He says that while laughing- knowing full well that the actual pain in the ass in their relationship is probably him.]
Not too bad on the eyes either~ [It's headlock time? It's headlock time.]
Ryuji, you came out here to defend his honor and you just! tell him!! Like fine, you're really proud of being Ren's friend and that sets off a whole chain reaction of things which can only be described as Feels to the point that Ren might be dissociating because his body can't handle how much he loves and appreciated his bestie right now but the headlock is also keeping him from booking it the fuck out of there cuz "Akira" oh shi- ]
G-get off me - your pits reek!
[ He can totally pretend that the struggle is all that's turning his face red, right? Good. Cool.
Engage tickle attack! Target: sides. All that time grinding proficiency has honed Ren's fingers into the perfect spidery tickle-y terror for speed boys that leave their sides open...
[This isn't right. He's completely fucking mental. Ren, this is your friend.]
ACK. SHIT- MAN- WHAT THE. EFF.
[That move was entirely... way too goddamn dirty, and he just sort of... lets go completely and grimaces, rubbing his side. Highly affected. Highly effective. What an asshole.]
[Akira watches the two of them with a discerning eye. He's... almost concerned, now, mostly because he recognizes something familiar in the two of them. Is that how he and Ryo looked all the time? Christ.
(Well, it's definitely not enough to make him consider to change his behavior, but it's certainly something of an eye-opening experience, to say the least.)]
Most people're prone to that, though. [He turns a faint, vaguely knowing smile to the bottled-blond, remembering how their first meeting had quickly turned a little wild, landing them both in an excessively questionable pool.] Oh. So you're Ren. [His tone of voice grows considerably more flat. Despite his machismo on the network, his bite doesn't all match his bark - he wouldn't go out of his way to hurt someone unless he absolutely needed to, but the way the guy'd spoken to Ryo still sticks in the back of his mind, stinging him. So much of his time with Ryo had been spent watching and listening to people say hurtful things to him, thinking themselves absolved of the guilt because he didn't react. Surely he mustn't actually care, right? But even if Ryo didn't, Akira did for him; years ago it just made him upset, but now it makes him angry.
For now, though... It's hard to be angry, watching Ryuji lock the guy into a headlock, only to have his hygiene questioned and his sides tickled. Come on, you guys.]
Well. [He says with a short sigh; he rolls his shoulders, his head tilted to one side.] If you're gonna be a damn pain in the ass, you might as well be a good-lookin' one.
[He ain't gonna argue that. Akira has eyes. He doesn't need Ryuji to tell him.]
Here's where I'd probably tell you guys to get a room, but, well. [He looks around them before setting the two of them in a smirk.] If you guys want, I can just leave you to it.
First meetings with Ryuji tend to be like that; Ren ever tell anyone about the time they met, chatted about a pervert for a while and then wound up in a dungeon together? Good story, when they're better friends Ren can explain.
Ren isn't scared of instant retribution, so to say. Physical harm? No. He's orchestrated his own arrest, been drugged to the gills and beaten with the full and knowing authority of the law and he turned out fine bar a few weeks of recovery and a mild case of death. He got better. It'd be harder to pull off here.
Now that he's in the situation it's more that Ren is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Meeting with Ryuji in secret for a very special game of roshambo isn't Ren's business except for where it is, but the seeming ease with which Ryuji behaves around Akira is that of a kindred spirit, from what little Ren has been able to glean. And while Ryuji'd pits are gloriously sans deodorant Ren's quick thinking allows him a quicker recovery time to reorient his defenses. If only Akira decided to come at them from an expected angle. ]
That's, uh.
[ Ren should lean into the joke for an easy turnaround, but that'd probably be too harshly doubling down on an undeserving subject of ridicule. It's still pretty fucked up what Ren did in Shibuya so he's been trying to avoid further damaging Ryuji's opinion since- ]
Why is everyone talking about my looks..?
[ Ren pulls his chin inward, tugging awkwardly at the bit of hair perpetually resting between his eyes. ]
I did come to get Ryuji, that's all, since Akira-kun looks like he's won his battles for the moment. Ryuji and I already share a room, so keep it?
[La la la... Here is one (1) Ryuji Sakamoto not having a clue as to what's going on or why Akira would joke about them needing a room for anything, and with his arms crossed (no longer trying to get Ren to squirm under him (god....)), he feels pretty complacent with the way that his friend deflects. Yeah. They got a room. Duh. They live together.
The only thing that he knows he absolutely wants is... for these two to get along. Akira provided a certain sense of camaraderie for Ryuji that felt like an old friend back from his days in sports. It was a facet of friendship that he admittedly kind of missed. Not that he wasn't already completely satisfied with the Thieves, no, because he loved them more than he loved life itself. They were always going to be his posse. You don't go through what you went through like that and not have a few blood oaths rummaging about between their social graces.]
Alright, alright. Akira, man, Ren is so way outta your league. [He smiles, brimming to the edges of his own endless internal sunshine. They both know it's a joke, right? He doesn't think that Akira is actually hitting on him.
Is he?
Wait, is he?]
Yeah, I'm down for food. Let's blow this popsicle stand, dude.
[One of the superpowers Akira had had even before he'd gotten this whole devilman thing going on was that he was nearly impossible to fluster past a certain point. It came part and parcel with the whole-hearted self-acceptance thing he had going on. Then the devilman thing certainly hadn't helped, only deeply exacerbating his completely and naturally unabashed nature. All of this having been said, it just made it fun to get under others' skin in a similar way, just because he held onto a personal immunity of it being flipped back towards him.
So, yeah, watching Ren squirm a little under the scrutiny was pretty great. It's just about all the revenge Akira really needed, besides showing Ryuji who wasn't going to be bested in schoolyard physical challenges. He grins, the expression a wide and toothy one.]
Just 'cuz we got eyes, dude.
[What, he's allowed to talk about that stuff, right? They're three gorgeous Japanese guys. Might as well just accept that now.
His attention is tugged violently back to Ryuji at the snipe, though.] Hey! [He says in sharp exclamation, feigning to bristle.] I don't think you got any say over what my league is, Ryuji.
[Is he?
Is he? (;
As far as the three of them are concerned, no, he is not. We don't need any more animosity between Ren and Ryo, after all.]
Alright, well, don't let me stop you guys. [Akira says it with a grandiose shrug of his broad shoulders, stuffing his hands into his pockets and breezing past the two of them, tangled in one another as they are, with all of the nonchalance in the world. He shoots a glance at them over his shoulder, eyes glinting.] I'll leave ya to it.
[And then he strolls out of the room and on his way, feeling as though he's the victor in all of this, somehow. Regardless of how much truth there is to that.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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(It's a joke. ...About half of it is a joke.)
Truth be told very little of this would've been ushered into the hallowed pages of Akira's own textbook for maintaining human friendships, especially before a few weeks ago, but then again, that book wasn't particularly lengthy or well-illustrated. After all, he couldn't say he held too many close friends besides Ryo and Miki; all of the others seemed to fall into the realm of proximal acquaintances (many of which he picked up just by hanging around the latter at school and at track). Between Ryuji and himself, it probably just would've progressed to him sending him stupid text messages in the middle of the night, but then Ryuji's friend had to shit-talk Akira's friend, and now here they are.
It's kinda stupid but, well, so is Akira, sometimes.
A hn sort of sound comes from his throat, like a grin transmitted into an audible format.] Aw, stop. You'll make me blush. [He's too busy enjoying the construction of the situation to do something like that, but he's just having fun with how much Ryuji's willing to play along.
But Ryuji's little gambit, though... come on, dude. You have to know Akira would've been expecting something like that, right? He remains resolute, his chin tilting up a bit in challenge.] You gonna sing me a song or somethin' first? C'mon, Ryuji.
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Ryuji's fairly certain that Akira would not be the type of person to blush when presented with a throwdown of this epic proportion. It sounds fake. It's totally fake. That doesn't mean that it also doesn't fill Ryuji's heart with a small bit of joy, knowing the layers upon layers of absurdity that file in between the cracks. Sure. Blush away, dude.]
Aight. Your funeral, man.
[He clears his throat. And what continues is an eldritch terror the world should never have been privy to.]
Demon's underwear are good underwear. They are strong, they are strong! They are made of tiger skin. They are strong~ they are strong~ [The rowdy shout of strong is.
Equally ridiculous.] Wear them for 5 years! They won't tear. They are strong. They are strong. Weaaaar them for 10 years---
[SMACK!
He goes for the first attempt at swatting his hand, thinking that his voice would be the ultimate siren's song to distract Akira from noticing his hand movements. It's haunting. Beautiful. Totally punk.
Except, you don't really win in a contest of agility versus a devilman. He should learn that.]
im sorry im so slow
With Ryuji, though, this sort of thing felt like talking it out. It was just a specific dialect shared between two rowdy idiots, prepared to put their bodies and their egos on the line to defend the honor of their dearest friends.
Physical contest and inane texting conversations. They were two mighty pillars for the construction of a strong friendship, right?
He gives a challenging sneer to the first comment. Sure, Ryuji. Sure.
But everything else, well...
Akira wasn't expecting for him to actually sing.
At first he stands in shock, the sneer frozen to his face, and then it is slowly wiped away and replaced with a stunned look of disbelief. He... fuck, does he remember this song? Something about it sounds vaguely familiar, caught in-between Fisher-Price memories of early childhood. And he just keeps going, emphasizing the silliness of the song, and Akira can't help but laugh, not at him but at the ridiculousness of the situation, how willing he was to jump into this particular strategy.
Too bad it wouldn't be quite enough.
Akira didn't need his eyes or his ears to play the game; he feels the sudden hum of tension run through Ryuji's arms, terminating in the barest contact of their hands. His begin to lift. So Akira moves immediately, and fast, flipping his hands over Ryuji's and bringing them down to smack against the backs of his opponents'.
And he does so pretty lightly, by his standards. Again, he doesn't want to hurt him. But it'll probably sting like hell.
He gives a big, toothy grin.] Nice try. But I think you won the bigger battle in our war of attrition. I'm gonna have that damn song stuck in my head for days now.
never apologize
(somewhat untrue though; as much as he tried to change his outward appearance and renounced societal values, he always retained a soft heart and the urge to defend the downtrodden. But if people didn't care to see that in him, he didn't have to care for them. There was no room in him to respect a world that didn't respect him.)
And when, or if, that conversation ever happens between him and Akira, Ryuji will be ready for it. They'll realize how much they have in common, and yet how little they do at the same time. Either way, he'll embrace Akira and support him. Those who are misunderstood will always get Ryuji's attention- and maybe, by then, Ren and Ryo will have buried the hatchet. If not, then, well, these two idiots will have to do it for them.
In the meantime, he recoils his hands back as they're slapped. Holy shit, that's a lot more than he expected out of the dude. Ryuji rubs the back of his hands, taken aback by how red they actually are. Call him a bit masochistic, but this at least quelled the urge to have his knuckles run into something- a dumb boy who gets into fights at the drop of a hat and enjoys the ever loving hell out of them. Placated in his own bout of self destructive habits, he raises an eyebrow at Akira.]
Damn, man. Do you do those hand crunches on weights? You know, the spring loaded ones? I dunno what they're called, but I had one back at home.
[It gave his hands something to do when he was reading manga, working two fold in keeping his attention in line. Later, when he had met Makoto and started earnestly caring about school, he found himself doing the same thing when reading his textbooks. Even if he didn't retain a ton of information, he wanted to do better because his team expected it of him. Ryuji always wants to rise to the challenge when it's given.]
Haha... that was one of my favorite songs when I was a kid. I think I tortured my mom with it. [Sad, thinking about her. He misses her so much already.]
That's the type of game I play. I may not win every skirmish, but the long con is the goal, here. [There's a cheeky smile to be had here, and an outstretched hand.]
Truce?
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Guess... it doesn't matter where you go. Once you get used to being an opposing force it's hard to know what else to do with yourself, even if it wasn't important - being delinquents who challenge the status quo. Ren isn't so far removed from that time as to forget; on the contrary his entire worldview wouldn't quite untilt itself back to the complacency from Before. Usually it isn't like this, though. Usually he could hold his tongue and avoid making a scene. But the thought that Ryuji put in his head, the possibility of this place being it for them made Ren afraid in a way he's never experienced even if he did assuage those fears openly. A primal fear of losing the people he loves most, of sloth when he could've done something about it. It like he can't let anything, not even a network post that might not even be harmful, slip past.
Delinquency that carries responsibility. What's the world come to, eh?
Regardless, he doesn't know that he'll be apologizing to Asuka. Doesn't know what he'd say anyway. "Sorry my shitbag alarm bells were going off like crazy, it's not personal"? Akira Fudo might come pound him if he feels like it, but it's not like he'd know Ren on sight.
Wandering past a door, the sound of voices makes Ren curiously peer inside and see two goon looking mofos grinning at each other. ]
Oh, there you are. [ Mild as you like, Ren smiles faintly at Ryuji, standing straight and sliding his hands into his jumpsuit pockets. ] I managed to get the food replicators to make something that tastes vaguely like katsu-curry, if you're in.
[ If your large friend will let you go to your friend friend Renren. ]
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And he's not terribly wrong, truthfully. Out of anyone in their group, Ryuji's the one with the most abstract curiosity towards things like buttons and places that he shouldn't be. He was the one who tipped Ren off to the off-limits rooftop of the school, which became their first hideout... at least until Makoto came and ruined it in one fell swoop. Who could tell if he wouldn't stumble upon something in the station one second, and then the next poof- an immediate, horrible type of death.
Good thing he has people around him to ground him and stop him from doing stupid shit like that. Present goof, excluded, of course, because Akira and Ryuji were perfect hype men for each other's dumb fucking ideas.
The blond's smile is sincere, sheepish almost. Like in an apologetic sort of way that says Gotta cut this short, sorry, man. We'll have a round two later... that might give off a ton of impressions to anyone watching. Ryuji always seems like a better person when he's around Ren. More calm. Composed. Not about to flip his shit at any given moment, but rather holding it back and waiting for the right moment. That's their cadence, after all.]
HELL YEAH! What's the spice level on that?
[Instation voices, Ryuji. Please. Some people might have sensitive ears.
(Screw 'em.)
Wrapping an arm around his bestie, he looks over at Akira with a challenging smirk.]
Have you two met before?
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Though it seems, simply to judge on the game agreed upon, Akira has won. He tilts his head to one side, eyes a little blank. Something clicks into recognition as Ryuji continues.] Oh. Yeah, I know what you're talkin' about. [But he just shakes his head.] Nah, sorry, man. Guess I'm just a natural.
[Demonic possession made you a natural at a lot of things. Not all of them were good.
Akira grins widely, nodding as a hum catches in his throat.] I see, I see... [He regards the oustretched hand before reaching out to clasp it, firmly but not in a way that would hurt what he'd already caused to sting.] Yeah. Truce. If you play that kinda long game, I think I'm lucky to get off that easy.
[Truth be told, he'd prefer not have to bristle at Ryuji or Ren, even if it was largely in jest. He likes the guys. He doesn't think they're the bad sort. He just... wishes they'd back off Ryo, because it just pisses him off when he sees people bullying him (from his perspective).
Speaking of.]
Hnn? [Akira turns to face the stranger with an arched eyebrow; having only talked with him on the network, of course he wouldn't have had a clue as to who the person was until being otherwise enlightened. Though, fuck, katsu-curry sounds good...
He'd have to try to coax something like that out of the replicators later, even though what he usually managed to get out of them was faintly-flavored slop.
Akira is a very keen observer of people, though, and he does notice the change in Ryuji's energy as the guy walks in. It starts to paint the picture of an idea as to who he is, though he's not going to jump to any conclusions without knowing for sure.]
Uhhh, no, I don't think so. [But there's a keenness to that word and a sharpness in his gaze that suspects otherwise.]
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[ Praise be to the little sprouts growing in Haru's garden. Grow, tiny seeds, grow into big, magnificent foods for them to eat so that their lives are no longer as full of suffering on the culinary front and Ren will give them all the moist and super plant foods they desire.
It's hard not to see Ryuji's big, stupid smile and not think of a puppy bounding toward him waiting for Ren to give him a nice that'll do, pig or something. No one else crashes into Ren with that energy, no one else bounces off him with this innate knowing of the level they're operating on, automatically matching. Ryuji calms down, Ren perks up, it's all good in the neighborhood.
He's shaking his head at Akira, sure that Ryuji would blurt it out anyway so this allows him a modicum of demureness. Ren's in no hurry, he got someone to watch his food while he went in search of his wayward Chariot. ]
Eheh, I'm no one important. Ryuji's prone to excitability, I'm sure you've noticed.
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No, this doesn't need introspection, it jumps right out of Ryuji's mouth in incredulity.]
No one important? The hell.
[That's the biggest nothing statement he's ever heard from the other, and maybe he was trying? to keep a low profile, but there's something about Ryuji that insists this is just... surely not possible.]
Akira, meet Ren, Ren- Akira. This here's my best friend. And a giant pain in the butt.
[He says that while laughing- knowing full well that the actual pain in the ass in their relationship is probably him.]
Not too bad on the eyes either~ [It's headlock time? It's headlock time.]
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Ryuji, you came out here to defend his honor and you just! tell him!! Like fine, you're really proud of being Ren's friend and that sets off a whole chain reaction of things which can only be described as Feels to the point that Ren might be dissociating because his body can't handle how much he loves and appreciated his bestie right now but the headlock is also keeping him from booking it the fuck out of there cuz "Akira" oh shi- ]
G-get off me - your pits reek!
[ He can totally pretend that the struggle is all that's turning his face red, right? Good. Cool.
Engage tickle attack! Target: sides. All that time grinding proficiency has honed Ren's fingers into the perfect spidery tickle-y terror for speed boys that leave their sides open...
BEGIN. ]
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[This isn't right. He's completely fucking mental. Ren, this is your friend.]
ACK. SHIT- MAN- WHAT THE. EFF.
[That move was entirely... way too goddamn dirty, and he just sort of... lets go completely and grimaces, rubbing his side. Highly affected. Highly effective. What an asshole.]
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(Well, it's definitely not enough to make him consider to change his behavior, but it's certainly something of an eye-opening experience, to say the least.)]
Most people're prone to that, though. [He turns a faint, vaguely knowing smile to the bottled-blond, remembering how their first meeting had quickly turned a little wild, landing them both in an excessively questionable pool.] Oh. So you're Ren. [His tone of voice grows considerably more flat. Despite his machismo on the network, his bite doesn't all match his bark - he wouldn't go out of his way to hurt someone unless he absolutely needed to, but the way the guy'd spoken to Ryo still sticks in the back of his mind, stinging him. So much of his time with Ryo had been spent watching and listening to people say hurtful things to him, thinking themselves absolved of the guilt because he didn't react. Surely he mustn't actually care, right? But even if Ryo didn't, Akira did for him; years ago it just made him upset, but now it makes him angry.
For now, though... It's hard to be angry, watching Ryuji lock the guy into a headlock, only to have his hygiene questioned and his sides tickled. Come on, you guys.]
Well. [He says with a short sigh; he rolls his shoulders, his head tilted to one side.] If you're gonna be a damn pain in the ass, you might as well be a good-lookin' one.
[He ain't gonna argue that. Akira has eyes. He doesn't need Ryuji to tell him.]
Here's where I'd probably tell you guys to get a room, but, well. [He looks around them before setting the two of them in a smirk.] If you guys want, I can just leave you to it.
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Can he die yet jwFirst meetings with Ryuji tend to be like that; Ren ever tell anyone about the time they met, chatted about a pervert for a while and then wound up in a dungeon together? Good story, when they're better friends Ren can explain.
Ren isn't scared of instant retribution, so to say. Physical harm? No. He's orchestrated his own arrest, been drugged to the gills and beaten with the full and knowing authority of the law and he turned out fine bar a few weeks of recovery and a mild case of death. He got better. It'd be harder to pull off here.
Now that he's in the situation it's more that Ren is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Meeting with Ryuji in secret for a very special game of roshambo isn't Ren's business except for where it is, but the seeming ease with which Ryuji behaves around Akira is that of a kindred spirit, from what little Ren has been able to glean. And while Ryuji'd pits are gloriously sans deodorant Ren's quick thinking allows him a quicker recovery time to reorient his defenses. If only Akira decided to come at them from an expected angle. ]
That's, uh.
[ Ren should lean into the joke for an easy turnaround, but that'd probably be too harshly doubling down on an undeserving subject of ridicule. It's still pretty fucked up what Ren did in Shibuya so he's been trying to avoid further damaging Ryuji's opinion since- ]
Why is everyone talking about my looks..?
[ Ren pulls his chin inward, tugging awkwardly at the bit of hair perpetually resting between his eyes. ]
I did come to get Ryuji, that's all, since Akira-kun looks like he's won his battles for the moment. Ryuji and I already share a room, so keep it?
[ aaaaaaaaaaa ]
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The only thing that he knows he absolutely wants is... for these two to get along. Akira provided a certain sense of camaraderie for Ryuji that felt like an old friend back from his days in sports. It was a facet of friendship that he admittedly kind of missed. Not that he wasn't already completely satisfied with the Thieves, no, because he loved them more than he loved life itself. They were always going to be his posse. You don't go through what you went through like that and not have a few blood oaths rummaging about between their social graces.]
Alright, alright. Akira, man, Ren is so way outta your league. [He smiles, brimming to the edges of his own endless internal sunshine. They both know it's a joke, right? He doesn't think that Akira is actually hitting on him.
Is he?
Wait, is he?]
Yeah, I'm down for food. Let's blow this popsicle stand, dude.
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So, yeah, watching Ren squirm a little under the scrutiny was pretty great. It's just about all the revenge Akira really needed, besides showing Ryuji who wasn't going to be bested in schoolyard physical challenges. He grins, the expression a wide and toothy one.]
Just 'cuz we got eyes, dude.
[What, he's allowed to talk about that stuff, right? They're three gorgeous Japanese guys. Might as well just accept that now.
His attention is tugged violently back to Ryuji at the snipe, though.] Hey! [He says in sharp exclamation, feigning to bristle.] I don't think you got any say over what my league is, Ryuji.
[Is he?
Is he? (;
As far as the three of them are concerned, no, he is not. We don't need any more animosity between Ren and Ryo, after all.]
Alright, well, don't let me stop you guys. [Akira says it with a grandiose shrug of his broad shoulders, stuffing his hands into his pockets and breezing past the two of them, tangled in one another as they are, with all of the nonchalance in the world. He shoots a glance at them over his shoulder, eyes glinting.] I'll leave ya to it.
[And then he strolls out of the room and on his way, feeling as though he's the victor in all of this, somehow. Regardless of how much truth there is to that.]