Work Text:
It's a well-known fact that Bachira Meguru dribbles like he's dancing.
Rin never cared much to notice it before; back when they were teammates during the Second Selection, it hardly mattered to him how Bachira played so long as the blond did his job as another gear in Rin's well-oiled scoring machine. Hell, he could break dance across the field if he wanted to, all as long as they kept on winning.
The victory was always what mattered most, after all.
That mentality has helped drive Rin forward plenty stages later– the Third Selection, the match against the U-20 Team, and now here, in PXG's first game against FC Barcha.
Meguru Bachira dribbles like he's dancing.
This is not a fact Rin ever cared to notice before, but now, under the blaze of the sun as both their teams attempt to seize another goal, Rin wonders how he ever managed not to see it.
It's not something that can be looked away from, Rin quickly assesses.
For one thing, it's dangerous . Bachira is nothing short of explosive on the field, tearing through PXG's defenses like a firework across the sky on New Year's Day. If Rin looked away for even a moment, he fears he might just get upstaged by Bachira. Not by FC Barcha, but just by the force of one Bachira Meguru.
For another– Bachira looks like he's having fun , and it's a stark difference from how Rin looks. He knows this because he studies his matches diligently enough, sees himself in replays and pays no mind to the cold, calculating look in his eyes as he runs across the field. He always looks bored, like the victory is assured, like the game is routine.
In many ways, it all is.
But he does wonder sometimes how it feels not to live in that kind of predetermination, wonders how it feels to be Bachira, a burst of radiant joy tearing through the field like the very act of dribbling alone brings him to life.
He wonders how he'll feel when he watches the replay of this game, when he sees the contrast between himself and Bachira Meguru illustrated right before his eyes.
That space is always between them, isn't it?
Bachira Meguru, the dancer made of sunlight who brings beauty to life, and Itoshi Rin, a stiff, cold block of marble sculpted for the sole purpose of destroying things hideously.
It's just another reason Rin can't look away.
Bachira Meguru dribbles like he's dancing, and it's a beautiful sight to behold.
And then Bachira steals the ball from under Rin's feet, sticking a tongue out at him and saying, "Oh, come on, Rin-chan. It's like your heart isn't even in it!", and all of a sudden Rin realizes something else.
Beyond beautiful and dangerous, Bachira's dance is infectious , making Rin want to chase after him, making him want to play at twice the tempo.
Making Rin's heart want to dance, too.
Itoshi Rin hasn't had fun playing football in a long time, but in this match, with Bachira dancing right in front of him, he thinks he might just be getting a taste for it again.
The stadium explodes with applause the moment they finish their next song. Rin can hear their fans' screams in every direction, the noise so loud it's a wonder how his eardrums haven't shattered yet.
Then, they're announcing a short intermission from their group performances. It's a space allotted for them to show off their individual talents, and it's no surprise that the intermission starts with a dance number from their very own Bachira Meguru.
As Bachira takes center stage, soaking up the spotlight, Rin can't take his eyes off of him. Nobody can, really, even if he hasn't even started yet. Everyone is dying with anticipation to see just what Bachira Meguru has in store for them all.
Then the speakers play. It blasts out one of their newer songs, a track that sits somewhere between EDM and pop, and Bachira moves .
It's breathtaking, all fluidity and electrifying life. Even with everyone's eyes on him, Bachira dances like he's not afraid of anything, courage personified into one silhouetted figure in motion. He's their main dancer for a reason, Rin thinks.
He's certainly not the most graceful about it. That would go to Chigiri, whose every movement is carefully refined to look as elegant as possible. Bachira's body seems wired to be reckless, and it bleeds into his performances, his movements too carefree to be graceful.
Bachira doesn't dance perfectly, either. Especially not when put next to Reo, who refuses to have a single hair out of place, refuses to have his limbs be even a millimeter out of their proper positions. Bachira doesn't quite have that level of perfectionism, preferring energy over elegance, making sure his body is animated rather than picture perfect.
When they're all dancing together as a group, it's glorious. Flawless and picturesque, they might as well be put on a pedestal for all the world to see but never touch, a performance so godly that mortals could only ever hope to reach them.
But when Bachira dances, it looks like he's inviting you to join him. When Bachira dances, you find yourself wanting to dance too. When Bachira dances, it's like he's telling you, there's nothing to be afraid of, so why not move your feet?
Rin is a careful observer to the phenomenon of thousands of people being indelibly enchanted. The crowd ooh s and aah s at Bachira, their cheers growing impossibly louder as he pulls off another tricky step. They adore him, and all of a sudden Rin finds himself caught in that same haze of lovestruck vulnerability
A thought briefly passes through his mind: Bachira Meguru is someone even Itoshi Rin could fall for. Even things that are frozen to the core will thaw out when cast under heat, after all, and Bachira dances like the sun itself, bringing life to everything around him.
Rin reels his thoughts back in as quickly as thet enter. He can't afford this. He can't be yet another person who Bachira charms.
Rin isn't special for wanting him. There isn't a soul on earth who watches Bachira dance and doesn't fall a little bit in love. Bachira isn't lacking in choice for dance partners. Rin is just one of many that have been enamoured by the life in Bachira’s movements, bewitched by the curve of his smile.
Rationality is his strong suit, and he tries desperately to stick to it, but he keeps watching Bachira dance, and his attempts at being logical fade away. Try as he might, he still wants to be chosen.
Try as he might, he can't kill the part of him that yearns, the fragile hope that Bachira Meguru has brought to life.
It's probably wrong to be keeping the Sun God within the bleak confines of the Underworld.
Scratch that. It's entirely wrong.
The mortals are probably suffering high above, their crops growing brittle with cold in the midst of an unforgiving winter. If they don't freeze to death, they starve, and if they don't starve to death, they freeze. It's a lot more work for Rin to do as their Ruler, with more subjects piling in for him to look after.
Winter always means more work for him, and he would resent that fact a little more if winter didn't also mean the arrival of Bachira Meguru.
"Rin-chan," the Sun God tells him softly in the midst of all his work. "You should take a break."
Rin looks away from yet another soul he has to judge. The soul stays frightened in its place, and Rin pays it no mind, his gaze shifting to meet Bachira's. Idly, Rin thinks that even if someone didn't know who Bachira was, it wouldn't take them long to figure it out.
Staring into the Sun God's eyes is famously comparable to looking directly at the sun. The only difference is that, rather than blind you, it soothes you instead.
Even Rin, a God in his own right, isn't immune to Bachira's pleading gaze. He feels warmth run through his body, pooling in his belly and spreading all the way to his fingertips.
To anyone else, Rin would say no. To Bachira, he says, "Fine."
He waves his hand, dismissing the soul that was previously in front of him. It goes away without a fight; Rin guesses it must be happy to no longer have to be in his presence. He doesn't blame it.
Rin sits back on his throne, a pitiful attempt at relaxing himself. Bachira is giving him an expectant stare, and Rin raises a brow.
"What exactly do you suggest I do?" Rin asks him, leaning his elbow on the armrest and pressing his cheek into his palm. "And don't pretend you didn't already have something in mind."
Bachira giggles, walking forward. He makes his way up the steps to Rin's throne, each of his movements brimming with life. A hop, a skip, swaying and bouncing. It's no wonder he's also referred to as the dancing god, the silhouette in the sky that the mortals see whenever the sun rises.
Rin is no better than them. He too is enthralled by Bachira's every move.
When Bachira is standing just a few inches away, he comes to a stop. He takes the hand Rin isn't leaning on, pulling it towards himself and lacing their fingers together.
"We could dance?" He offers, almost a little shy.
He has good reasons for being reluctant. Everytime he's asked before, Rin has said no.
This time is no different.
"I'm afraid I'm not much dancer," he says, shaking his hand out of Bachira’s grip. "That wouldn't be a very good break for me."
"I suppose not," Bachira says, and it's impossible not to notice the way he wilts, the same way it would be impossible not to notice the sun dimming down.
Rin's already got such a long list of sins; he keeps the sun away in this barren wasteland of a domain, and, with nothing else to do, the sun will ask for a dance. And Rin will say no, because he can't bear the thought of Bachira wanting to dance with him just because he has nobody else.
For the other half of the year, he'll be in the heavens above, surrounded by people who adore him, who celebrate the sight of his smile and the sound of his laughter in ways that are louder than Rin could ever be capable of. Bachira will belong with them in like he always has; like he did the very first time Rin ever saw him, at a grand jubilee high in the heavens above that he was only forced into attending because of his brother.
Bachira was breathtaking even then, capturing everyone's attention with the lightness of his feet, the breezy flow of his chiton, the strands of his hair swaying golden under the light of the sun.
They say everyone who has ever had a taste of getting to dance with him is blessed with unfathomable warmth. Even Rin isn't arrogant enough to believe he deserves that.
And then Bachira fell into the Underworld and ate its food, foolish beyond belief for a God so beautiful, and for half a year he stays here with no one to ask for a dance from other than Rin.
"Why do you always say no?" Bachira asks suddenly, pulling Rin out of his little reverie. He's toying with the strands of his hair, gold peeking out from shadowy black.
"Because I don't dance," Rin says plainly, as though he didn't just say so.
"You've never even tried?" Bachira asks, tilting his head. "Not once?"
"Why does it matter so much to you?" Rin questions him back, discomfited by Bachira's proximity.
"Because I want to dance with you," Bachira replies plainly, a surprising amount of conviction in his voice.
"You'll have plenty of people to dance with when you're out of here," Rin tells him, having no clue why he's even bothering to explain this. "I know it feels like a long time, but believe me, summer will arrive soon enough, and when it does–"
"Ahh, Rin-chan, what the heck are you even saying?" Bachira asks, pouting. He rests his hands on his hips, leaning forward until their faces are barely inches apart. "I said I want to dance with you . What does that have to do with everyone up there?"
Rin thinks his cold, unbeating heart might have stuttered to life for a brief second. He wonders if its the effect of having the Sun God's gaze be cast upon you from so close.
"You never go up there anyways," Bachira says, looking away. His frown deepens. "My only chance to dance with you is here. But you never say yes either."
Rin feels all his systems shutting down, and he pulls out the quickest excuse he can muster. "I don't--I'm not… any good at it. You wouldn't have fun dancing with me."
Bachira sighs, finally, finally pulling back. It gives Rin's facilities time to recover.
"That's why you practice," Bachira says. "That's why you dance with me."
Rin doesn't know what to say to that, and he's saved from having to come up with anything when Bachira says, "And don't be stupid, Rin-chan. I'll be dancing with you. Of course I'm going to have fun."
So this is the power of the Sun God , Rin thinks, bringing warmth to cold places and life to dead things. Stunning the Ruler of the Underworld into speechlessness.
So maybe Rin was wrong. Bachira doesn't want to dance with him out of desperation or a lack of choice. It still doesn't change the fact that the Ruler of the Underworld is not someone who dances with the God of the Sun.
Rin sighs, and it's a tired sound. He says, "I didn't realize."
"Clearly," Bachira replies smoothly, and he sounds tired too. "Ah, you know what? I don't really feel up for dancing anymore right now."
That sounds like a lie. Bachira is always in the mood to dance– but suddenly he's moving closer again, stepping into Rin's space like he belongs there, shuffling into Rin’s throne until he’s perched right on top of his lap. Rin doesn’t flush, but only because he physically lacks the ability to.
“I guess this is fine, too,” Bachira says, sounding halfway resigned. “I’ll stay with you until you’re ready to start dancing, Rin-chan. I’ll keep asking until I get a yes.”
Rin knows he doesn’t deserve this, but Bachira is warm against his skin, the antithesis to everything Rin rules over. Everything is meant to wilt in Rin’s presence— it’s why weary souls are so frightened of being around him— but Bachira is here, willingly basking in it, no less luminous and still so ethereally beautiful.
It isn’t right to be keeping the sun in the Underworld, but Bachira is willing to stay, and Rin’s already got such a long list of sins anyways. What’s one more?
For all intents and purposes, Itoshi Rin is aware that she’s the coldest, meanest bitch to ever grace the halls of their high school. The fact that she’s standing idly by in the sidelines during what many of her peers consider the most important night of our lives is testament to that.
Rin rolls her eyes.
Make no mistake, she isn’t alone on prom night for a lack of people asking her; plenty have tried. It just happens that she turned them all down.
In all honesty, their persistence confuses her to no end. You’d think that after the first three people got shot down, the rest of the student body would take the hint. And yet, in the days leading up to tonight, the attempts continued.
Her confusion doesn’t end there, though; another thing she doesn’t understand is why exactly people are so interested in asking her to be their date in the first place. Sure, Rin is a respectable athlete in her own right, responsible in her academics and generally a well-rounded individual; she’ll even admit to being moderately attractive, if only because she bears a mild resemblance to her older sister, and nobody in their right mind would be able to call Itoshi Sae unattractive.
But, again— she’s self-aware . She knows that the presence she gives off is dark and uninviting. After all, she exudes that presence on purpose so that people know to back off. They usually get the message, but somehow, in the time leading up to nights like this, it slips people’s minds.
That’s alright. Rin is fine just like this. She stays in her little corner, a silent observer to all of the night’s buzzing chaos. She could do with less music, though, and it wouldn’t hurt if the lights were less sporadic. She’s not enjoying herself in the least, but so long as nobody pays her any mind, it’ll be fi—
“Rin-chan, why did you even come here if you aren’t planning on joining in on any of the fun?”
Ah.
Rin doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Bachira, but she does anyways. She tilts her head down to find golden eyes peering up at her, and she tries not to be amused at how, even in kitten heels, Bachira manages to be this much smaller.
“I’m part of the prom committee,” Rin replies drily. “I was assigned to be a student chaperone.”
Bachira frowns, taking small steps forward until she’s standing beside Rin rather than in front of her.
“Chigirin’s also part of the prom committee,” Bachira drawls, and Rin follows her gaze to where it’s pinned on the dance floor. Most of Bachira’s friends are there— Chigiri, as she’s just mentioned, along with Isagi and Kunigami. “But she’s still having fun.”
“She worked under the creatives subcommittee,” Rin says, rolling her eyes. “Her work was finished days ago."
Bachira should know this. She helped that committee with some of their decorations. Rin can see bright yellow swirls in some of the posters overhead, and she thinks idly that Bachira has inherited her mother's knack for art. Still, Rin doesn't bother pointing any of that out.
She’s far more patient with Bachira than she is with anyone else.
That fact reveals itself once again when Bachira steps ever closer to her, casually linking their arms together– and Rin dislikes being touched by other people, opting to push away anyone who attempts to do so, but she lets Bachira do as she pleases.
"Ah, well," Bachira says, head lolling to the side and pressing against Rin's shoulder. "I guess there's no choice, then."
Rin keeps her eyes on the party, but she acknowledges Bachira's words with a small, "Hm?"
"I'll just have to stay here and chaperone with you." Rin can't see her, but she thinks Bachira's eyes might be slipping shut.
Rin inhales.
Of course Bachira would choose to stay here. Bachira, who's been lonely all her life, now surrounded by people who adore her, still has a heart that bleeds. Rin can almost hear her say, I don't want you to be lonely, too.
Rin used to think that Bachira's attempts to befriend her came from a place of pity, or maybe even from a lack of other people to be with. But she's recently come to realize that they don't. It's something more like understanding, a nebulous rule of like attracts like . Bachira's been lonely, and she knows Rin will understand her in a way few others can.
But Rin knows that the gap between them will remain despite all of Bachira's best efforts to bridge it. Rin doesn't belong with everyone else. Bachira does.
It's with that in mind that she shrugs Bachira off of her arm, ignoring the sad little mewl that Bachira lets out.
"If I needed an assistant chaperone, I would have requested one," Rin says smoothly as she slips entirely out of Bachira's grasp.
She reaches for Bachira's shoulder and pushes her forward, not so hard, but enough for her to tip in the direction of the dance floor.
"You'll just distract me," Rin says, and it's true. Bachira will, what with her rambunctious laughter and inability to stand still and her sunshine yellow dress that falls just past her knees, a sight that's been making Rin's heart stutter in her chest for the better part of the night. "Go dance with your friends. That way I can actually do my job."
Bachira's lips curl into a frown. "But Rin-chan–"
"Go," Rin repeats, tone firm as ever, but there's an undercurrent of softness in it that even Rin didn't know she was capable of conveying.
Bachira must hear it, because her responses seem to die down her throat.
"Okay, Rin-chan," she says, offering a sweet smile. But it isn't like Bachira Meguru to go down without a fight, so she adds, "But the next time I ask you for a dance, you better say yes! You owe me one!"
Despite herself, Rin feels her lips twitch.
"Fine," she says, watching Bachira wave and walk backwards into the crowd ahead. "One dance."
"Yay!" Bachira cheers, finally turning her back to Rin.
She's on the dance floor now, twirling around, swaying to the beat of the music.
Rin wasn't lying earlier– Bachira would have distracted her– but she wasn't telling the entire truth either.
That being, Bachira belongs with everyone else. She belongs under the glowing haze of the spotlight, dazzling and unbearably captivating. For all her willingness to stay at Rin's side, it makes no sense to keep her there. A jewel that bright shouldn't be hidden away in the dimness that Rin creates around herself. Bachira deserves a place to shine.
Rin's made her peace with that a long time ago. Bachira can't stay with her, but maybe–
The smile on Rin's lips fade, and her brows furrow. Next time , she thinks with startling determination.
– maybe next time she'll be brave enough to follow Bachira's lead, matching her step for step, finally joining her in a dance for two.
The club's music is loud and blaring, sounding faintly like metal being crushed inside a garbage disposal unit. The lights are too bright, and they blink so rapidly that it made Rin wonder briefly if it's possible to contract epilepsy. It's miserable here, and the only reason he even came is he was forced into it by Sae and Shidou.
In a desperate effort to make the environment more bearable, he decides to knock back a few shots. It does work, to be fair— the music stops sounding so terrible, and where he used to feel a deep discomfort at the back of his mind, he now feels a vaguely pleasant haze.
He thinks he might be a bit tipsy, but he also thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of not looking like a bumbling idiot. He’s been staying in their booth and people-watching for a while now, and he can say with near-absolute certainty that everyone else here is an imbecile.
Case in point, the two people who dragged him here have left him behind to go dancing. Rin’s gaze follows them to where they headed into the dance floor. Sae dances in a way that’s almost robotic, while Shidou’s movements are odd and disjoint, looking like he’s dancing to the beat of an entirely different song than the one that’s currently playing.
Somehow, their movements still sync up perfectly. Rin tries not to resent that too much; it’s been a long time since he’s hated them just for being happy, but right now a small part of him wishes that something would disrupt their wonderful little harmony.
Maybe God is listening to Rin right now, because disruption does come, and it’s in the form of a half-brunette, half-blond boy stumbling into view. He breaks Sae and Shidou apart for a quick second, but then apologizes and wanders off a little bit.
Rin’s eyes are pinned on him immediately.
He seems drunk, his cheeks flushed a very red. He also looks like he’s putting his all into standing upright. But most of all, he looks as though he’s having the time of his life through it all, swaying numbly to the beat of the music, spinning around in a way that must be terrible for his already shaky balance, and, oh—
He starts to sway almost dangerously, and Rin doesn't know what compels him to do it, but he's standing before he can even think twice, shooting forward to catch the boy before he can fall.
Thankfully, nobody around them is sober enough to be aware of what Rin’s just done. If people started clapping for him just now, he would’ve simply chosen to spontaneously combust.
Ah, but one person does notice, and it’s the boy Rin is holding in his arms.
“Ooh,” the boy says, gripping Rin’s shoulders like they’re a lifeline, and Rin thinks they might as well be, “My hero.”
One of Rin’s hands is at the boy’s waist, and the other is gripping his arm. He lets go of that one to try and set the boy upright. When the boy finally regains his footing, Rin tsks at him.
"You can barely stand, and you're out here trying to dance?” Rin says, hovering his arms around the boy in case he falls over again. “Are you an idiot?"
“Good point,” the boy says, returning one of hands to its grip on Rin’s shoulder. “Guess you’ll just have to dance with me to make sure I don't fall over, huh?"
Rin tsks, harder this time. He scans the area for any sign of this boy’s friends, but nobody around them seems coherent enough for recognition anyways. Then, without warning, the boy leans on Rin, putting a significant amount of his weight on him.
The boy asks, "So, what is the name of my darling hero?"
His words are surprisingly coherent save for the fact that they’re punctuated with giggles. So maybe his sense of gravity really just sucks? Rin can’t be sure, but he knows that he can’t just leave this boy to his own devices.
“Rin,” he responds stiffly. The boy’s grip on him tightens, and it makes Rin turn to look at him.
“I’m Bachira Meguru,” the boy says, and he offers Rin a smile that looks like a revelation. “It’s nice to meet you, Rin-chan!”
For a second, Rin is stunned speechless. For the first time tonight, he gets a good look at Bachira’s face, and he has no idea if the lighting in the club has shifted, or if the alcohol in his system is only now kicking in, but what he does know is that this boy’s smile is—
Soothing. Familiar? Rin can’t put his finger on it, but then his gaze lands on Bachira’s eyes, and he finally figures it out.
Warm.
This boy smiles like sunlight, and Rin is so blindsided by it that he can’t stop himself from narrowing his eyes and asking, "Have we met somewhere before?"
Bachira snorts at him, and he somehow makes a crude sound so endearing. “Does that line usually work for you, Rin-chan?”
“What?” Rin says, confused. But then he sees the sly curve of Bachira’s smile and realizes he must have thought it was a pick-up line.
“No, that wasn’t— I—“ Rin tries to clarify, but the music suddenly switches, the song on the speakers now something slower than before but no less blaring.
“Ooh, I love this one!” Bachira says, reaching out for Rin. It seems like all his issues with balancing himself have simply vanished. “Come dance with me!”
Rin stares at Bachira, at the hand that’s being offered to him, at the dazzlingly sunlit smile on his face. Perhaps, most of all, Rin is staring at the expectant look in his eyes, a look that almost seems to say, you owe me, don’t you?
“You know what?” He says, taking Bachira’s hand. “Fine. I’ll follow your lead, so don’t let me down.”
The shine in Bachira’s eyes grows impossibly brighter. Rin thinks it could put the sun itself to shame.
“Let’s dance, Rin-chan.”