[ Akira had something unique, indescribable. For all he thought that he was inconsequential, Ryo had found him a marvel in flesh and bone. Though perhaps not in the full of admittance, Akira had presented something to him that he had never considered before since the very beginning. Amid the noise and the pallor that cast across the whole of society, Akira was sensitive and compassionate. He held in him all the things that Ryo did not. Ryo's wins were only that. Akira, however, had more than enough that he would succeed over him at. Even if he did not recognize it, even before the demon that gave him the strength to repel most any force — Ryo struggled to relate to others, to feel any warmth for much of anyone.
And that was something that Ryo could not master no matter the time given to him. At least, for so he thought. ]
I didn't, [ he concedes, but there's something bright in the blue of his eyes. Where Akira rocks in his seat, Ryo curves his fingers to rest beneath his own chin. The implication of that same smile still rests at the corners of his lips. ] Then again, the rules of racing are typically implied.
[ Even with all of his childhood fuss, Ryo'd been fine enough with the results because Akira had lit up like a Roman candle, mouth split into a grin so wide that Ryo often found himself thinking that it must hurt. It'd been on the same day where Akira had shown him how to make a snow angel, but Ryo was contented instead to watch with his cheek pressed to the white and the cold. Part of him had always wondered why those days felt precious and fleeting, but he supposes it was answered soon enough. It'd taken all these years to see him again and so little had changed and so much had become different. Still, those memories were the precious few points of consistency in Ryo's life. It was what he had.
But still, there's something just as soft that flits at the corners of his expression. It's a wonder for anyone else to catch, but he knows there's no point in disguising this. Akira had found him already on the Observatory Deck. It was a place that said just as much without needing to say anything at all. ]
We could have, [ he says, after a moment. One corner of his mouth lifts a little. It isn't sharp. ] But, even with a proper countdown, I doubt I'd win now.
[ It's no secret that mass impacts velocity, Akira. Ryo's a whip of a thing in comparison. ]
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And that was something that Ryo could not master no matter the time given to him. At least, for so he thought. ]
I didn't, [ he concedes, but there's something bright in the blue of his eyes. Where Akira rocks in his seat, Ryo curves his fingers to rest beneath his own chin. The implication of that same smile still rests at the corners of his lips. ] Then again, the rules of racing are typically implied.
[ Even with all of his childhood fuss, Ryo'd been fine enough with the results because Akira had lit up like a Roman candle, mouth split into a grin so wide that Ryo often found himself thinking that it must hurt. It'd been on the same day where Akira had shown him how to make a snow angel, but Ryo was contented instead to watch with his cheek pressed to the white and the cold. Part of him had always wondered why those days felt precious and fleeting, but he supposes it was answered soon enough. It'd taken all these years to see him again and so little had changed and so much had become different. Still, those memories were the precious few points of consistency in Ryo's life. It was what he had.
But still, there's something just as soft that flits at the corners of his expression. It's a wonder for anyone else to catch, but he knows there's no point in disguising this. Akira had found him already on the Observatory Deck. It was a place that said just as much without needing to say anything at all. ]
We could have, [ he says, after a moment. One corner of his mouth lifts a little. It isn't sharp. ] But, even with a proper countdown, I doubt I'd win now.
[ It's no secret that mass impacts velocity, Akira. Ryo's a whip of a thing in comparison. ]