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Waking up to the dazzling morning sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains, Shingo took a deep breath of the empty room's air and gave a long stretch. Usually, he would have woken up caught in the crossfire of the two men's cutthroat morning tension, both of them growling as if ready to kill each other the moment they opened their eyes. But today of all days, the hotel room was dead silent. Kyo's tossed and crumpled bedding, contrasted with Iori's perfectly made bed lacking any trace of human warmth, starkly highlighted the contrasting natures of the two men. Looking back and forth between the empty beds, Shingo scratched his head and headed for the bathroom. Whether they had gone for breakfast or a walk, the two had already slipped out without waking him, so he needed to hurry and catch up.
"I'm gonna do a perfect job backing up Kusanagi-san and Yagami-san today! Alri-ight! Let's do this, Shingo!!! ...Huh?"
After loudly splashing water on his face and staring into the mirror to psych himself up, something caught Shingo's eye. Sitting alone on the still-wet marble sink was a heavy silver Chrome Hearts ring. Did Yagami-san, who usually wore accessories, leave it behind? Tilting his head, Shingo carefully picked it up with his fingertips. The ring, meticulously carved with an elegant pattern, looked quite expensive no matter how he looked at it. Turning it this way and that, Shingo's eyes widened when he absentmindedly peered inside.
[ Kyo Kusanagi ]
His master's name was neatly engraved on the inside in a sophisticated script. Shingo blinked, gripping it tightly in his palm for fear of dropping it.
‘Did Kusanagi-san normally wear accessories like this?’
No matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn't recall ever seeing a ring like this on Kyo's finger. Didn't he usually wear gloves anyway? An accessory like that would only be a nuisance on those solid hands that swung flames and struck enemies without hesitation. But why was his name engraved on the ring? Ah, wait, could this perhaps be a crucial token proving his status as the head of the Kusanagi clan?! Shingo's train of thought, starting with a simple question and spiraling wildly out of control, quickly reached a conclusion. Master's extremely precious item.
"This is no time to be standing around. He might be freaking out thinking he lost it!"
Shingo hurriedly shoved the ring into his pocket and left the hotel room with a vigorous stride. Knowing Kyo's temperament—preferring the wide-open outside air over stuffy indoors—it was painfully obvious where he would have gone. Shingo marched out, scanning the hotel grounds without hesitation, and soon spotted the brunet leaning against the railing of the smoking area, leisurely smoking a cigarette.
"Kusanagi-san—!"
At the approach of his disciple, who practically wagged an invisible tail like a large, excited dog, Kyo languidly turned his head, exhaling a thin cloud of smoke from between his lips.
"Oh, Shingo. Full of energy first thing in the morning, huh."
"Hehe, Kusanagi-san! I found you left this on the sink. You almost lost it!"
Shingo pulled the silver ring out of his pocket, beaming proudly, and thrust it right in front of Kyo's face. In that moment, Kyo's curiously relaxed expression twisted strangely. His usual easygoing smile vanished completely, and one eyebrow arched up sharply.
"...You found this on the sink?"
Kyo's voice dropped a tone lower. Shingo flinched and nodded.
"Yes! I found it after washing my face this morning. Neither of you were there when I woke up. At first, I thought it was Yagami-san's, you know?"
"...."
"But then I saw Kusanagi-san's name written inside, so I brought it with me! It's something super precious, right?"
A precious token of the Kusanagi clan! Perhaps excited by the thought that he had seen and touched such a crucial item with his own hands, Shingo's voice pitched even higher. Kyo snuffed out his cigarette and took the ring. Staring fixedly at it, he traced the engraved pattern on the silver surface with his thumb. Then, suddenly, Kyo's shoulders began to tremble minutely. His brow furrowed fiercely as if he were about to explode in anger at any moment, but a suppressed snort—pfft—leaked from between his tightly shut lips. To anyone else, it was clearly the face of someone desperately holding back a fit of hysterical laughter.
"Kusanagi-san? Are you okay?"
"...Yeah, it's a very precious thing. Unbelievably so."
Kyo wiped his face with his palm, barely managing to compose his expression. However, his brown eyes danced with a mischievous, wicked playfulness directed at someone not currently present. Shoving the ring into his inner jacket pocket, Kyo patted Shingo on the shoulder.
"Thanks for finding it, Shingo."
"Eh?! Aw~ It was nothing at all!!"
Kyo's step as he turned and headed back toward the hotel was incredibly light, as if he might start humming at any second. A strangely elated mood—quite different from his usual easily-annoyed, indifferent demeanor—radiated clearly from his posture. Shingo didn't know the reason, but seeing his respected master in such high spirits naturally brought a smile to his own face.
‘I knew it! That ring was an important symbol of the Kusanagi clan!’
Deeply moved by his own perfect support, Shingo clenched his fists, feeling proud that he now had something to brag about to Kagura-san. Today, the sky was clear, and it was a refreshing morning where everything seemed like it would go smoothly. Surely, they would finish tonight's match with a successful victory, too.
But Shingo's cheerful mood began to sour into a strange sense of unease as the afternoon rolled around.
Since they were grouped as a team for this tournament, Shingo always had to tag along with Kyo and Iori. Being stuck so close to them all day meant he couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in their atmosphere, even if he didn't want to. Iori kept catching the edge of Shingo's vision, exuding a particularly tense vibe. Of course, the sharp-tempered Iori walking with his hands shoved deep into his pockets was a perfectly natural sight. But today, something felt noticeably off about his attitude.
He kept clicking his tongue in annoyance and pacing around, his fingers twitching inside his pockets as he visibly felt around for something in a nervous, repetitive manner. Normally, he would have walked straight ahead with his head held high, but today he kept hesitating, nervously scanning the hallway floors or the gaps between the tiles. That wasn't all. Suddenly, his left hand would twitch as if grasping at thin air, followed by his right thumb obsessively rubbing the base of his bare ring finger. He looked like a man in withdrawal, tormented by the loss of something as vital as a phantom limb.
Wherever Iori stepped, people voluntarily cleared a path, repelled by the prickly, murderous aura he constantly radiated. They had been spending days together as a team, but Shingo's brain still couldn't fathom the origin of the man's foul mood. Subtly, Shingo whispered to Kyo, who was walking ahead.
"Kusanagi-san, doesn't Yagami-san seem to be in a really bad mood today?"
"Is there ever a day that guy's in a good mood?"
Well, that was true. Readily convinced by Kyo's casual and clear-cut answer, Shingo glanced at Iori. By the time the three men arrived at the stadium waiting room, Kyo suddenly stopped walking and turned to Shingo.
"Shingo, go grab us some drinks, will ya?"
"Huh? Out of nowhere?"
Shingo blinked, but soon took the credit card Kyo offered with both hands and nodded vigorously.
"Ah, hydration is important! I'll be right back!"
As Shingo's highly motivated and energetic footsteps faded down the hallway, Kyo closed the waiting room door with a relaxed motion. An awkward, heavy silence settled inside the room. Leaning lazily against the wall, Kyo looked at Iori, who was sitting on the sofa, and spoke.
"Your finger looks kind of empty today."
"……."
"Where's the ring I gave you?"
Iori's brow furrowed fiercely. Biting his lip, he averted his gaze and soon answered in a low voice.
"…I lost it."
"What?"
"Didn't you hear me? I lost it."
By nature, Iori wasn't the type to lie or make excuses for his mistakes. It was true that he had lost it, and it was also true that it was his own careless fault for taking it off for a moment and forgetting it. But even if he admitted his mistake, the words 'I'm sorry' simply couldn't leave his mouth. Instead, his usual hostile edge was completely gone, replaced by a twisted mix of embarrassment and restlessness that perfectly reflected his troubled state of mind.
‘Gotta admit, that side of him is pretty cute.’
Facing this rare expression, the corners of Kyo's lips curled up into a smug smirk. Even if Iori had truly lost the ring, Kyo wouldn't have been genuinely angry or upset. He wasn't the type to childishly obsess over a single item anyway. Whatever, things get lost. It's just a small ring. —Would it have been different if it was an official wedding band? Hmm. Regardless, he absolutely loathed the act of measuring or questioning someone's sincerity just because they accidentally lost something, calling their feelings 'shallow' over a simple mistake. However, compared to Kyo's laid-back attitude, Iori was taking it incredibly hard. To think he was boiling inside, fidgeting with his finger all day long over losing that one small item. Kyo wanted to savor this bizarrely adorable situation—which was amusing him immensely—just a little bit longer.
"Unbelievable."
Kyo let out a deliberately exaggerated sigh. Then, faking a sorrowful expression as if he were deeply hurt, he stepped right up into Iori's personal space.
"Do you even realize what kind of ring that is? I specifically commissioned the damn thing and had my own name carved into it. How do you manage to lose something like that?"
"……."
"Then again. Like you said, it was a trivial thing. If it bothered you that much, you should've just burned it to ashes right in front of my face."
"...It's not trivial."
At Kyo's provocation disguised as disappointment, Iori's sincerity outpaced his pride. Feeling humiliated by the admission he spat out on momentary impulse, Iori bit his lower lip hard. The joint of his ring finger, where the cool weight bearing Kyo's name had vanished, felt colder and emptier than ever.
"...I must have left it somewhere in the hotel. I'll find it no matter what."
Finding Iori's low mumbling—with his gaze awkwardly averted to the floor—highly amusing, Kyo narrowed his eyes and stared at him with his arms crossed. The mischievous, sadistic urge inside him flared up, making him want to corner and tease this man, whose spirit was far more subdued and docile than usual, all the way to the end. But they had a match to fight soon, and it would be troublesome if this sunken mood affected the bout. Seeing how much Iori was burning up inside was enough.
‘Guess it's about time I forgive him—’
Just as Kyo thought that and was about to let out a chuckle...
Bam—!!!
Suddenly, Iori reached out roughly, grabbed Kyo by the collar, and slammed him against the wall. Kyo's back hit the wall, a dull thud echoing through the waiting room. Iori's face, mere inches away, was flushed with shame and anger, and the veins on the back of his hand gripping Kyo's collar bulged prominently.
"Whoa, what's with the sudden attack?"
Even pinned against the wall, Kyo showed no signs of panic instead, he retorted by pulling up the corners of his mouth. Perhaps further enraged by that relaxed demeanor, Iori ground his teeth and snarled viciously.
"I said I'd find it, so I will damn well find it! If push comes to shove, I'll turn that goddamn hotel upside down to find it and throw it right in your smug face!!!"
Facing that extreme sense of responsibility—a willingness to flip an entire hotel upside down over a matter that could have ended with a simple apology—and his crude yet desperate sincerity, the sadistic urge curling in the corner of Kyo's heart completely melted away. The laughter he had been suppressing started shaking his shoulders.
"...Pfft!"
In the end, he couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing like a maniac. At the sight of Kyo cackling while being held by the collar, Iori's expression contorted even more fiercely.
"What the hell is so funny?!"
"No... I just figured the hotel staff would be pretty inconvenienced if you threw a fit like that over just this one little thing, right, Yagami?"
Wiping away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard, Kyo pulled the Chrome Hearts ring out of his inner pocket. It flashed with a cold silver light, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the waiting room as Kyo moved his fingers. Iori's gaze fixed on Kyo's fingertips, and his violently trembling red eyes soon froze blankly. A few seconds later, as the situation registered, his lips began to quiver.
"Why the hell do you have that...?"
He had been boiling over and fretting all day over that one small ring. Ah. Only then did the memory of briefly taking it off and leaving it on the sink while washing up that morning flash through his mind. As if mocking such a ridiculous mistake, Kyo had just been watching him, fully aware of his distress. Iori's bewildered eyes quickly turned murderous.
"You piece of trash."
In a flash of murderous intent, Iori raised his hand, his nails sharpening for a strike. Kyo lightly deflected the sharp attack, firmly snatching Iori's left wrist as it sliced through the air. Kyo's grip was ironclad, the warmth bleeding through his leather gloves burning hot. Easily suppressing Iori's breathless resistance, Kyo yanked the captured hand against his chest. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he supported the back of Iori's hand and began to slowly slide the ring onto his left ring finger—the finger that must have felt so agonizingly empty all day.
The cold metal slid smoothly down the long digit. As the heavy band crossed the knuckle and settled at the base, Iori unknowingly drew a sharp breath. Kyo pulled the ringed hand right up to his lips. Then, opening his mouth, he clamped down hard on the base of that finger, right over the cold silver—biting down wickedly like a beast.
He must have bitten down with deliberate force, because Iori's shoulders flinched with a short groan of pain. The pressure of solid teeth digging into thin flesh, followed by the wet, suffocating heat of Kyo's mouth constricting around his finger, struck his entire body with a vivid, electrifying unfamiliarity. The slick heat bypassed the ring's metallic chill, sending a tingling thrill shooting from his fingertip straight up his spine. Jolting, Iori tried to yank his hand away, but Kyo held fast. Instead of letting go, Kyo very slowly traced the trapped finger with his lips as he pulled it free. Over the flushed skin, Kyo's clear teeth marks remained like a deep red brand. Right over that throbbing imprint, Kyo lightly pressed a lingering kiss and smiled lazily.
"Calmed down now?"
"……."
"If you lose it again, it won't end like this next time."
Kyo's eyes, locked onto Iori, were dark with raw competitiveness and possessiveness. Avoiding his gaze, Iori simply chewed his lip, tightly clutching his finger and its red teeth imprints. Kyo gently wrapped an arm around Iori's waist and pulled him flush against him. As their chests collided with a dull thud and their faces drew dangerously close, their breaths tangled dizzily in the silence of the waiting room. Kyo's gaze dropped from Iori's turbulently wavering eyes, lingering blatantly on his pale, well-chewed lips.
In that brief moment, a deep conflict warred against Kyo's reason. A fierce impulse flared hot from his core—an urge to go beyond merely pressing their lips together, to share a heavy, melting heat and swallow each other's breath right then and there. But self-restraint held Kyo back if he crossed the line here, the fighting spirit he had been sharply honing since morning might burn out entirely before they even reached the arena. Ultimately, Kyo barely suppressed his boiling desire, burying his lips deep into Iori's red hair instead. Exhaling a ragged breath as he ruffled the crimson strands, Kyo's nose brushed past Iori's cool forehead, slowly sweeping down his temple.
Tightening his arm around Iori's waist as if to break him in two, their upper bodies pressed together seamlessly, their erratic heartbeats meshing precariously. Kyo pressed a slow, firm kiss against the eyelid of Iori, who was trembling faintly, trapped against his chest. Surprisingly, compared to his violent words and actions just moments ago, Iori merely swallowed shallow breaths, obediently accepting the touch.
—Then I guess a kiss is fine.
With that secret conviction, Kyo's lips trailed past the tip of Iori's nose, swept down his cheek, and were just about to brush dangerously against the corner of his lips, as if to steal his very breath—
Click-clack—!!!
The thick, taut air filling the waiting room shattered into pieces at the sound of the door opening.
"Kusanagi-san! I brought the drinks!! ...Huh?"
What greeted Shingo, who had stepped into the room with a bright and sunny face, was Kyo—who had reflexively yanked his hand away from Iori's waist the moment the door opened, freezing with an impossibly awkward expression. And standing right in front of him, in that narrow gap that hadn't quite widened enough, was Iori—trembling violently while clutching his left hand, his face flushed as intensely red as his own hair.
"Umm... Should I, uh, come back a bit later?"
Sensing the painfully awkward, murderous tension in the silence, Shingo very carefully closed the waiting room door with excruciatingly slow movements and backed away. Standing outside the door as if he'd just been kicked out, Shingo let out a sigh so deep the drinks in his hands felt heavy, and shook his head. From beyond the door, the loud sounds of things being flipped over and crashing began to echo. It sounded remarkably like the commotion of someone hastily and roughly shoving their opponent away, getting tangled in chairs, and tumbling to the floor.
‘Phew, they must be grabbing each other by the collars and rolling around again. They really should save their stamina before the match.’
The filter in Shingo's brain failed to process even one percent of the sticky atmosphere that had just flowed between them. No, to be precise, it was something that far exceeded the bounds of his imagination. Even if he had witnessed those two making out right in the middle of the room, Shingo likely would have earnestly scribbled it down in his notepad as 'a new striking technique that suffocates the opponent by stealing their breath.' He simply couldn't entertain the possibility that the relationship between those two could be intimate. To him, Kyo Kusanagi was a master as high as the sky, and Iori Yagami was merely the mortal enemy his master was destined to fight for the rest of his life.
"Alright! Kagura-san believes in me! Even if they can't get along, I have to work hard to support them! Let's go, Shingo! You're the only one who can do this!"
Thumping his chest with his fist, Shingo solidified his resolve once more. Just as he always had, this pure and oblivious student wouldn't notice the true nature of their relationship to save his life.