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He discovers it in the baths.
His eye is trained on Ryusei after an infuriating squabble at practice. Everything he does pisses Rin off, from his irreverence to his volatility, that Rin stews in anger while Ryusei hums some stupid song and prances around like their fight ten minutes ago never happened.
When Ryusei steps out of the showers, scrounging for a towel, Rin catches sight of his naked body. At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, but the mirage doesn’t fade. It all clicks together now, like those stupid fucking puzzle pieces Isagi talks about, why Ryusei is so out of place.
It only lasts a few moments before Ryusei puts on some clothes, but Rin knows what he saw. And for days after, all he can think about is that absence.
He doesn’t mean to watch her to the point of obsession then on out, but Ryusei has a way of drawing all the attention in the room.
None of the strikers, none of the real strikers know yet. But they will soon once he takes her out of the running.
But he doesn’t mean to get so restless over it. It starts with him tugging at the wicks of his cuticles, to this insatiable itch making him scratch at his skin until it’s red and raw, until before he knows it, he’s wrapping a hand around his cock in the showers and imagining it’s her.
He could tie jump rope around her wrists. Or scrounge around the infirmary for something to spike her meal with. A million strategies branch out before him, but when he remembers Ego tasing her before wheeling her off to the punishment room, there's something else Rin wants.
It’s not hard to sneak around the facility to get the supplies. He’s number one, the golden-standard striker. Nobody would expect anything from him. Ego’s trained eye only monitors Isagi and the other nobodies if anything else. He finds massage oil in the infirmary and, miraculously, a taser in an inconspicuous storage room beside the one used for solitary confinement. He goes to bed that night with the equipment ready and the same excitement of a big match coming up coursing through his veins.
Morning comes, and the top six are scattered around the pitch, stretching for another day of practice, but his eyes drift to Ryusei warming up a couple feet away. He wonders how flexible she is, how the Blue Lock bodysuit must wrap around her breasts. He swallows—he’d started salivating again.
“Rinrin?” She meets his eye before grinning, “Stalker much?”
Breaking into Ryusei’s dorm that night is insultingly easy. Ego has far too much trust in teenage boys if the lack of a lock is anything to go by.
She’s sprawled out on her bed, her slumbering body waiting for him, apparently so eager that she hasn’t bothered to get under the blankets.
Slowly, he joins her on the bed and hikes the front of her shirt up her chest. The Blue Lock-issued sweaters hide her faint curves, but it’s all he can see now. He’s always known Ryusei had a narrower waist than most, but seeing it coupled with small breasts makes his breath get heavy.
“Mmh,”
Rin stills. Ryusei shifts a little, but stays asleep.
His hand slides down her elastic waistband to reveal a pair of boxers. Disappointment washes over him, realizing now that part of him expected to see baby pink panties.
Eventually she stirs, eyelids fluttering before she wakes up jerkily and Rin lets go, her waistband snapping back into place.
“Rin…?” Her voice is raspy as she makes out his face in the low light. It takes a few moments to orient herself, “An ambush? Coward, you know this proves you can’t win against me in a real fight.”
He hears the coy smile in her voice. It’s cute how she doesn’t realize the situation she’s in. After a lifetime of being called dense and obtuse, he can mentally spin the old saying back on her— read the room .
Ryusei grows apprehensive when she’s met with silence. This time, her voice is more stern. “Rinrin, come on. It’s the middle of the night. Truce?”
Her eyes dart around, searching his expression as he hovers above her. It’s not the first time they’ve been this close, what with their roughhousing, but now, Rin can focus on the details of her pink irises up close.
“Rin. Get the fuck off me,” Ryusei warns, winding up to kick him, but after playing this scene in his mind over and over, Rin is quicker on the draw.
With rehearsed precision, he holds the taser against Ryusei’s side and she screams before she can register what’s happening. Quickly, Rin slaps a hand over her mouth.
“I’ll die… stop it…” Ryusei groans once he lets up, voice frail. Blood shoots straight to Rin’s dick so fast he feels lightheaded.
“I know your secret.”
She gives him a confused look, furrowed brows scrunching her nose. “...Hah?”
Rin places a hand against her groin and her hips twitch at the sudden touch. “You’re not supposed to be here. You're a girl .”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s what this is about?”
“I saw it. In the baths. You have a,” he hesitates around a word so crass, “...pussy.”
She rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t make me a girl, you bitch.”
“Then what does it make you, Ryusei?” The question makes her pause. Rin presses on. “I’ll tell you: it means you’ve got tits, it means you’re the only striker with a pussy and a pair of tits—it means you’re not supposed to fucking be here.”
“Wh… get off me. I’m as much of a man as you are.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? We have nothing in common.” And it’s true. She’s too emotional, and as he rakes over her form, the list keeps growing: her skin is too soft, her features too delicate.
Every time Ryusei thinks of shoving him off, Rin’s eyes flit to the taser in his right hand. Using her brain for what must be the first time in her life, she reads the warning for what it is and glares at him, waiting for him to finish. “Creep.”
He leans in to smell her hair. Underneath the generic shampoo, she smells sweet, but not excessively so, a scent cozy and nostalgic like fresh laundry. “You should grow your hair out,” Rin hums as he gropes her tits, “you’d be prettier, like one of those gyaru.”
Rin moves to ease Ryusei’s legs apart, but her thighs are clamped tightly together, the muscles straining under Rin’s grip.
He doesn’t have time for this. “Spread your fucking legs.”
“Fuck off.” She hisses, having the audacity to spit in his face before Rin has to lean back from a well-timed headbutt.
He almost hits her before remembering he has something better. “You asked for this.” Rin clicks on the taser.
She catches on fast, attempting to counter, but not fast enough. “Rin—Hhrgk!!”
He might’ve held it against her for longer than necessary. It felt right to. The shock leaves her chest heaving and her body twitching uncontrollably. He pulls off her sweatpants in a quick motion, and he’s greeted by the mesmerizing sight of her pussy up close.
He rests his head on her mound, her skin flush against his forehead, and breathes in. She smells divine. The prickle of his bangs against her skin makes her squirm. He takes one last inhale to gather himself, taking in the heady scent of her skin and sweat. Maybe one day he’ll eat her out, once she’s more cooperative.
Ryusei's nails tug at his scalp, trying to pry him off, but the muscles in her hand give, weakened by the aftershocks. “Just… hurry up…”
Rin scoffs. She’s in no place to order him around. He straightens up before slotting his hips between her thighs, sliding his pants down and resting his cock atop her skin. He’d never made a habit of caring about size until now, but seeing his cock reach past her belly button makes his heart race.
She pales. “No way that’s going in me.”
“You’ll manage.” He pours massage oil all over his length, the excess oil dripping down and making a mess of her stomach. It’s excessive and amateurish, he’s never done this before, never had to, but it’s more for his sake than hers. Rutting up against dry flesh sounds less than unappealing.
His tip kisses her entrance before he plunges inside, soft velvet rippling around him. He sucks in air through his teeth. Fuck. It’s better, warmer, tighter than he imagined. He was always meant to be here.
“U-ugh, hah, you son of a bitch,” Through her wincing, Ryusei looks up at him. She’s so expressive, does she know how doe-like her face is without the heavy eyeliner? Everything she does spurs him on.
Rin’s got his hands on Ryusei’s waist for leverage, but the taser is still in the grip of his right hand, awkwardly pressing it against her side. One wrong move could click it on—Ryusei notices it too, keeping herself fearfully still.
“Too deep… ‘s too deep… Hu-urts…”
He’s taking his time to enjoy it, going centimeter by slow centimeter. The stretch is getting to her, but Rin is too focused on how the soft pouch of her stomach distends once he’s close to bottoming out. “Don’t feel too bad. At least you were able to meet me here so I could fuck you like this.”
“It's not funny anymore, Rin… I might throw up…”
As Rin steadily gains momentum, he kind of wishes she would.
Ryusei keeps pleading with him, but he wouldn’t be able to stop moving his hips if he wanted to, brought to his base instincts. The bulge in her stomach makes it feel real. Sex is amazing, Rin concludes. He gets it now, like he’s finally in on an exclusive club, enamored by the sensation of taking over someone by their insides. He’s got a pet theory, he thinks as he pushes against Ryusei’s most sensitive areas, that impregnation can be a method of destruction, too.
“Mmh! Mmn, Rin—!” Every thrust elicits another moan against her will. Her eyes glisten with tears.
All sense of reason gone, a part of him guesses at children they’d have. He’s sick of the Itoshi look he and his brother share, flat expressions and stupid eyelashes, but. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if they were mixed with her features. Her clever eyes and proud smile… Rin doesn’t hate that. It would be nice to have a son.
It’s a thrust at a specific angle when Rin feels it. Her cervix. Their eyes meet—Ryusei knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Don’t!”
She squirms for only a second before vitriol Rin didn’t know he possessed rushes forth, grabbing her chin. “Fight back again and I’ll tase you for so fucking long it leaves you in a vegetative state.” When Ryusei’s eyes widen, Rin doubles back to soothe her. “I won’t kill you. I can’t impregnate you if you’re dead.”
“S…stop it… I’m serious,” Ryusei groans as he grinds the tip against her deeper entrance, but her pleas aren’t convincing when she moans like a pornstar.
Rin rubs her clit in an attempt to relax some of the tension in her body, but the stimulation is too rough and ill-considered to do anything except make her scream louder. He alternates between nudging against her cervix and hitting against it full-force. Slowly, he can feel it give around him.
Finally, the barrier weakens at his battering and he feels his tip slip inside, staking his claim. Her womb feels so fragile, he can practically feel her heartbeat at this depth. She cries out, devolving into heavy breaths and warbling sobs.
“Stop it! Get out, please, please—! ”
“Do you want everyone in the building to hear? Imagine they find you like this.” He hisses, “Maybe they’ll fuck you too. I know Otoya’s been searching for women to hit on since getting locked in here.”
“Ngh—! Rin!” Her voice, desperate, hooks into his brain like nothing else. Her deep tone used to grate on his nerves, but that was before he knew. Since his discovery, that annoying voice of hers has become so sultry.
Ryusei would be a fun mom. She has enough energy to outpace hyper toddlers. He imagines the childrearing, her running around a park teaching their kids how to play football. A drop of water lands between Ryusei’s tits, and Rin realizes he’s drooling.
“You’re built to carry children,” he nuzzles the side of her neck, “but you waste it meddling where you don't belong.”
“Ough, mmh, Rin… Rin! Ahhn—!”
The bed creaks loudly and she melts around him, her eyes fighting the urge to roll back. Ryusei the man was an annoyance. But as a woman… protective instincts pour from Rin’s gut. He imagines dressing her up nice, taking her home to his parents. Plus, it wouldn’t be far of a leap to picture her as a beautiful woman; Ryusei is already so familiar with makeup and other frivolous shit. A future as a blonde bimbo is closer to reality than her surpassing him as a striker. “Shh,” he babbles, “I'll take care of you.”
“Mmh—! Rin, Rin ,” Ryusei moans. Her thoughts reset every time Rin moves, cutting her protests short over and over and her pleas morph into a litany of his name. Their spit is everywhere across Ryusei’s face and chest. Between her cockdrunk haze and a childhood habit he can’t break, it’s hard to tell who’s drooling more.
“Feels good, right?” And he knows it’s a lie when she shakes her head. The rest of her body is proof she feels as good as he does, constantly inviting him to keep going. He feels himself smile, the sensation foreign against the corners of his mouth. Ryusei’s face pales at the sight.
He lets go of her waist, the taser’s edges leaving an imprint on her side. He tosses it somewhere behind him, not needing it now that he’s got access to something more delicate. He holds her hands against the sheets as he hits against the walls of her womb, and it’s romantic when she squeezes back in helpless acquiescence, unable to reach for anything but him.
“Rin, I can’t, o-oh, I-I’m gonna—”
Ryusei grits her teeth, body twitching as she fights her own release (and Rin can’t help but feel fond amusement at that, why bother? ), but it’s not long before she’s cumming on his cock. Her back arches and her voice hiccups adorably, soft walls spasming around him. He’s entranced by the sticky release dripping down her thighs like sweet cream, further confirmation that he did the right thing.
Seeing the dazed, guileless, borderline angelic expression of her face and knowing he’s the cause puts him over the edge. With another thrust, the coil snaps, and he spills inside her. Either her belly swells infinitesimally from his load or it’s just his imagination augmenting how her chest rises as she breathes—regardless, she drives him insane without having to try.
Rin gently brushes the hair off her sweat-slicked forehead, both of them surprised at his tenderness.
Rin lowers himself and Ryusei tenses, expecting a kiss. Instead, Rin rests his head on her chest, pinning her down with the weight of his body like a butterfly, the task made easier now that her will to fight has gone. Her attempts to shove him off are nothing more than a gentle nudge. “Get off of me, Rin, please ,” She sobs.
Her skin is so warm. He imagines her body growing softer as her pregnancy continues, her curves filling out like they should. All the changes he incited, the baby he put inside her. He’s excited for it all.
He falls asleep to the melody of her trembling heartbeat, rolling the name Itoshi Ryusei around his mind like a pearl.
Rin brims with pride.
Shidou Ryusei sits beside him, a pregnancy test in her hands. Positive. Obviously.
He doesn’t have to look at it. The object in her hands is a confirmation of the inevitable. Thanks to his diligence, Rin and Ryusei have been fucking like rabbits. Not a single day has passed without Rin being inside her. Plus, Rin’s gamble paid off: nobody intervened whenever Rin spontaneously pulled Ryusei aside, deeming it another squabble between strikers one and two. The confirmation is sweet: Ryusei is as lonely as he is.
The convenient reality is that nobody cares when something happens to Ryusei. Oh, but Rin cares. He cares so much it’s nauseating.
They’ve been called to Ego’s monitor room as Ego and Anri scramble for damage control. Anri whispers something in Ryusei’s ear. It’s well-intentioned, judging by the motherly concern on Anri’s face, probably some kind of message of support between girls, but whatever it is leaves Ryusei wrecked.
“I’m not a…”
Ego clears his throat. “Shidou Ryusei. You have two options. Either you continue with the pregnancy, which, I cannot stress enough, means you will be pulled from the program once you’re unfit to play. Or,” he emphasizes, “we will cover your abortion. Think carefully.” Distantly, Rin wonders why Ryusei lying about her sex doesn’t constitute instant expulsion.
“I…” She falters, “I can’t…I…”
Rin knows her too well. She tries to stay composed, but a stubborn tear falls down her cheek, further ruining her makeup. Makeup may have been the last piece she had of herself; her hair is down at Rin’s demand, her clothes are standard-issue, her makeup messed up more often than not, not even her body belongs to her now. Plus, her future is on the precipice of being stripped away, threatening to deem her athletic ability absolutely meaningless. All is as it should be.
If Rin were in her position, he wouldn’t give a shit. Anything that stands between him and crushing his rivals would be dealt with; a clump of useless cells is nothing more than a hindrance. But Ryusei is different, his opposite down to the smallest detail, a girl too emotional, too sentimental for her own good. Her wild imagination has already given that hindrance invading her body a face, a heart.
She swallows a lump in her throat before speaking like it breaks her heart to. “I’ll keep the baby.”
Rin places a hand on her thigh. “Good girl.”