Chapter Text
Rin always wanted to die gracefully.
Just as smoothly as he thrust the ball into the net, would he be gone– without a trace, without a whisper, not one person turning a head at his absence.
2:45 am.
The world had never felt heavier and yet, as Rin stood on the oceanfront, he felt weightless. He stared blankly past the darkened horizon. Wind carried in from the ocean currents howled and whipped around, threading its fingers through Rin's hair lovingly, while simultaneously kicking up sand in violent traces that bit into Rin's skin like needles.
Even with the waves ruthlessly crashing against the shore, evilly beckoning Rin closer to the shallows, the night felt eerily still.
He doesn't know what led him here, only that he had to be.
His bare feet shuffled forward, the cold, damp sand clinging to his skin, his shoes– forgotten a few metres back– now an abandoned relic, of a boy who no longer existed. He curled his fingers into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms, making the skin on his knuckles turn bone-white.
Rin was afraid, deathly afraid.
And yet, most of that fear was swept away with the tide, leaving him with an emptiness that felt slightly peaceful. He had spent weeks, months, drowning in the quiet agony of his own existence.
He had come to understand something in that time– something bitter and cold, something that left a gaping hole in his stomach, almost doubling him over anytime he went for a deep breath.
Nobody gave a shit about him– at least not anymore.
Rin lay curled up in the corner of his bed for days on end, limbs stiff, malnourished body sinking deep into the mattress that had moulded itself with his despair, leaving an indentation which also served as a reminder, of how worthless he'd become, the pedestal hed tragically fallen from.
He endlessly stared at his dormant phone, positioned beside him, the screen remained blank, nevertheless; Rin held out, waiting for a lousy text. It never came.
If they really wanted to reach out, they would.
Rin only moved when absolutely necessary– to choke down sips of water that did nothing to quench his thirst, to drag himself to the bathroom where he couldn't even stand to look at himself in the mirror. Otherwise he just couldn't bring himself to function normally, his days stretched with static.
Once upon a time, he had thought of nothing except football. Of perfect plays and pinpoint strategies. Of where to be, when to strike– so the ball kissed the net just right. Once upon a time, the fast paced rhythm of the game used to be his sole heartbeat, and now–
Now there was nothing. Just silence. Just an indescribable loneliness. Just an unbearable weight pressing down on him, shoving him further and further into an abyss he had no strength to climb out of.
Nevertheless, Rin's here at a standstill between the ocean and his lifeless shell of a body.
3:01 am
The salty ocean water had reached him now, washing over his feet. A cold caress. Rin didn't even flinch, he had gone numb long ago.
Taking a slow, measured breath, he stepped forward. Into his impending doom.
And for the first time in months, Rin felt like he could finally breathe.
Trembling feet pressed forward, slow and unsteady, the icy water curled around his calves, then his thighs, his waist– each step pulling him deeper, he kept walking forward– his chest. Rin's body was consumed by the frigid embrace.
The sea wrapped around him like a toxic lover's embrace, frigid and unrelenting. Pressing against his ribs, creeping up his neck– whispering lullabies in the form of rushing waves.
Rin tilted his head back, shutting his eyes– one last time. This was it. This was Itoshi Rin.
And even in his final moments, as his lungs prepared for the burn of saltwater, his body succumbing to the mercy of the tides, his thoughts betrayed him.
His mind did not play old regrets, nor whispers of a final goodbye,
It conjured the face of his brother.
Sae.. I hope he's doing alright.
Even now, after all the words spoken in venom, all the things Sae did, or hadn't done– Rin couldn't hate him. A part of him still ached to be seen, to be understood, to be somebody worth acknowledging as Sae Itoshi's little brother.
Did Sae ever think about him, in the quiet hours of the night? Would he even notice when Rin was gone?
Would he even care?
Rin seriously doubts it.
A wave surged forward, tugging at his body, and he let himself go, letting the current begin to claim him. The weight of everything lifted from his shoulders as his knees buckled, getting ready to sink into oblivion.
Then, the most unexpected thing happened.
A sudden, tight pressure clamped around his wrist, so strong it forced his fingers to splay outwards. He gasped, eyes snapping open, breaking the promise he had made to himself,
He looked back.
And in the darkened blur of sea and sky, he sees a pair of eyes, filled with an indescribable, pleading desperation; irises a deeper blue than any part of the ocean. More piercing than any wave.
A voice shattered through the roar of the sea, like a lifeline,
“Rin!” The echoing voice called out to him.
Rin recognised it immediately.
Isagi Yoichi.
“Isagi.. Yoichi?”
The name felt foreign on his tongue. He blinked against the salt stinging his eyes, breath hitching as he took in the expression staring back at him.
Isagi’s face twisted in something between fury and grief, brows knitted together in an agonised plea, teeth clenched so tightly they might break. His fingers dug into Rin’s wrist with brute force, as if letting go meant losing something irretrievable.
He was holding on. For Rin.
Why?
Why was someone like Isagi, who got everything he dreamed of out of his career, the unconditional approval of his teammates, the acknowledgement of Sae – why was he currently serving as a fragile thread preventing Rin from crossing the line, why him?
Rin watched as the ocean roared in front of him, waves crashing violently onto the shore, onto where he was supposed to take his last breath just a couple minutes ago– mocking him, reminding him of what he almost had. Rin was dragged from the water by the blue-haired boy. Rins limbs, drained of energy, barely responded to the sudden movement, making Isagi heave him across.
His lungs burned– not from the sea water, but from the sheer force of getting dragged back into harsh reality, an unbearable gravity pressing into his chest.
Rin turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on Isagi’s hunched frame. The dark-blue adorned boy lay on the sand, propped up by his elbows, huffing raggedly, his breath still laced with adrenaline, still holding onto Rin, his hand clutched at him so tightly it almost hurt, fingers digging into soaked fabric, into frozen skin beneath. Saltwater dripped from his clothes, his hair, his trembling fingers.
“You're okay..” Isagi mumbles as he exhales. “I got you.. I got you..”
It almost sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
The cold sand clung to both of their drenched clothes, the night air biting cruelly at the exposed skin. Rin could hear Isagi breathing, gasping– like he was the one who almost drowned.
Rin stared wide eyed at Isagi, managing to get out a measly “Why are you here?” His voice hoarse and barely audible over the crashing waves.
And then– a voice. Shaky, raw with emotion.
“Why am I here?” Isagi repeated, almost in disbelief. He exhaled sharply, voice shaking with a mix of anger and sorrow, “Rin, I– God, what the hell were you thinking? Do you even realise–?”
He cut himself off, swallowing whatever words nearly spilled out.
Rin felt his jaw clench, he couldn't get any words out, he stared at a spot in the sand, unable to face him, unable to meet his eyes.
Isagi placed his (still sandy) hands on Rin’s shoulders and shook him, not violently, but firm enough that Rin was forced to meet his eyes.
And when he did– something deep inside Rin cracked.
Isagi's expression was wrecked, glistening tears forming at the corners of his wide eyes, though Rin couldn't say for sure if it was out of concern or the sensation of saltwater stinging his eyes. When Rin stared back into Isagi's eyes, he froze up. They were desperate.
Not angry. Not pitying. Not disappointed.
Just desperate.
“Rin, say something dammit!” Isagi's voice broke on the last word.
Rin swallowed, his throat felt like sandpaper. What was he supposed to say? That he had given up? That he had walked into the sea hoping to never walk out? That for a brief, beautiful moment, he felt free?
That even now, even as he sat here, pulled from the brink of death– he still wasn't sure he wanted to be saved?
His breath trembled.
A million thoughts fought to spill from his mouth, but they tangled together, forming a knot too tight to unravel. His chest ached, his limbs ached, his soul ached– he just wanted it to stop.
Why couldn’t it just stop?
And then– Isagi's grip softened.
Not enough to let him go, but enough that it no longer felt like a restraint.
Isagi was the one to not meet Rin's gaze this time, looking down, his hair covering his face,
“You don't get to just disappear for months, unadd everyone– and.. And now this?” He sounded lost, his voice trembling on every word. "You don't get to do this," Isagi whispered. His fingers curled tighter into Rin’s hoodie, his grip desperate, refusing to let go. "You don’t get to just leave like this. You don’t get to walk away like you don’t fucking matter."
Rin scoffed, “What do you care? It's not like anyone else did.”
“You really think nobody would care if you were gone?” Isagi’s voice trembled, but his words were still sharp. “You think I wouldn’t care?” There was a long pause, as if he was trying to understand his own feelings.
Isagi grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward, and suddenly; he was too close. Too close to escape the words that slammed into Rin like a freight train.
“Don't you ever say that again.”
“Don't you ever say that nobody cares.” Isagi goes quiet for a moment, and Rin's breath catches, “I care, Rin.”
“You idiot, I care. I care so much it fucking hurts!” Isagi's voice raises at the end of the sentence, as if to get the point across.
Rin couldn't breathe.
His throat tightened, his chest ached, his vision blurred– but for the first time tonight, it wasn’t because of the ocean.
It was because of Isagi.
Isagi was the first to break the heavy silence that ensued between the two.
“Come on.”
“..Huh?”
“We’re going back to my apartment, I can't leave you here.” His voice was low but certain, not a suggestion but a command.
“Isagi.. I–” Rin opened his mouth to protest, but Isagi was already in the process of heaving Rin, plus himself up off the shore– with surprising strength– dusting the sand clinging to their clothes off as much as he could.
He couldn’t fathom what was driving Isagi, what made him so sure that Rin should be anywhere but alone right now?
They both silently made their way up the beach, the steady pace of their footsteps leaving imprints in the sand. The quiet was filled with the kind of tension that Rin couldn't quite break. He didn’t dare look at Isagi, didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that someone– someone who wasn’t even really a close friend –was willing to do all of this for him. Rin's feet dragged slightly– like he was still tethered to the ocean. Up across the street was Isagi's car, which was horrendously parked.
Luckily, at this ungodly hour, only a couple of cars drive by once a while, but the streets were mostly empty at this time, it was 4am and the city has long since quieted.
And somehow, out of the scarce people who drove by, Isagi just so happened to be driving home, at 3am, by this particular beach, looking out his car window at the time Rin was entering the water.
Isagi waited for Rin to duck inside the passenger side before sitting down at the driver's side and starting the ignition. Without a word, Isagi pulled onto the road. The car hummed steadily beneath them. Rin wasn't aware of most of the car ride, he felt his eyelids growing heavier with every passing minute.
Rin hadn't even realised how deeply he'd been internally battling with himself until his body eventually gave up the fight, and drifted into an uneasy sleep– embarrassingly fast. His head lulled to the side, his breath soft and uneven against the frosty window as he tried to block out everything else–
Tried to forget the taste of saltwater, the loneliness that almost consumed him, and the tight knot of guilt sitting heavy in his chest.
If Sae could see him now, see what he'd become, he'd probably think Rin had completely lost it, that he's soft, which Rin can't even deny anymore, he's transformed into a sad, pathetic excuse of an Itoshi. An Itoshi that can't even bear the weight of his own mind.
Eventually, the car came to a stop and the hum of the engine cut. Rin barely stirred, his body slack against the car seat. Isagi shifted in his seat, hands placed on the steering wheel. He glanced over at Rin, who was still half dazed with sleep, his body curled slightly, as if still seeking the warmth and comfort of the car.
He stared at Rin for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. There was so much unsaid, so much to process, but right now, Isagi just needed to get him inside, to make sure he's safe and away from harm.
Opening the door, the frosty early morning air hits Rin, making him wince as he steps out of the car. Isagi comes over to Rin's side, offering to help him up– he half expected Rin to push him away, to refuse the help. But Rin only blinked up at him, his expression weary, his eyes hollow and tired.
“C’mon,” Isagi said softly, his hand gentle on Rin's arm as he helped him out of the car. Rin did not respond, didn't pull away. He just followed, too tired to argue, too drained to even make an attempt at hiding the weight of everything he was still carrying.
Everything before this moment was a blur– a flush of emotions Rin hadn't even begun to process: one second he had been standing at the edge of the ocean, willing himself to disappear, now Rin was riding an elevator up to his ex-rival’s apartment, the faint hum of machinery filling the silence between them. He heard a familiar ding as the elevator doors opened. Rin hesitated for a brief second before he followed Isagi through the dimly lit hallway, coming to a stop at the door labelled 210.
Keys jangled as Isagi fished them out of his pocket, filled with obscure keychains from those gashapon machines. With a soft click, the door unlocked. He pushed it open and gestured for Rin to step inside.
“My roommate isn't home, so we should be okay.” Isagi said reassuringly as they entered, though the words carried a strange, unintentional suggestiveness that made Rin stiffen slightly.
Rin took off his shoes and stood awkwardly in the middle of Isagi's apartment living room, unsure of what to do in this unfamiliar space. The apartment was small but cozy, it felt.. lived in. Not clean, not messy– just normal. There were a few stray pieces of mail on the counter, a half-empty water bottle sitting by the sink, and a blanket lazily thrown over the back of the couch.
It was quiet. Warm. Safe.
It made Rin's stomach churn, he swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of how out of place he felt.
“There's a shower down the hall on the left, if you want to, you're a little.. Salty?” Isagi smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
Rin didn't argue, he didn't even have the energy to sarcastically roll his eyes– which he used to do as easy as breathing –he just nodded and turned toward the hallway, needing something to distract himself.
The bathroom was warm and smelled faintly of whatever body wash Isagi used– something fresh, like citrus and pine. Rin turned on the water, watching the steam rise, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at his own reflection.
He barely recognised himself.
His skin was pale, his cheekbones a little sharper than before, his eyes hollowed out of exhaustion. His hair clung to his forehead in messy, uneven strands, and he could still see the faint redness around his eyes from earlier.
Pathetic.
With a quiet inhale, he stepped into the shower, letting the scalding water hit his skin. The steam from the hot water was suffocating at first, but as Rin let it soak into his skin, washing away the remnants of the night, (well, early morning) he felt himself breathe again. But even as the saltwater spiralled down the drain, the heaviness in his chest remained.
When he stepped out, he looked over in disdain, his own clothes were a lost cause, riddled with sand and still very much drenched. Isagi had already anticipated this, leaving out a set of his own clothes folded neatly on the counter. He's so annoyingly thoughtful.
He hesitated before slipping them on, a loose white t-shirt that hung comfortably over his frame, and a pair of pyjama pants that were too short, stopping just above his ankles. He frowned as he looked down. Even after months of neglecting training, he still had a fair few centimetres over Isagi, enough that the pants looked almost ridiculous on him.
His fingers clenched slightly at the fabric of the shirt, it had been a while since he wore something that smelled like someone else, Sae used to let him borrow his zip up hoodies when the cold got too uncomfortable for the young boy. Rin’s own apartment had been cold, stagnant, untouched by the warmth of other people. But this? This smelled like laundry detergent and something undeniably Isagi.
Rin sighed, running his hands through his still-damp, dark green hair.
The scent of something warm and inviting drifted through the air as he made his way back to the living room. His stomach clenched uncomfortably, reminding him that he hadn't eaten.. in a while.
Isagi was in the kitchen, standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot. The rich, savoury aroma of simmering chicken and broth filled the apartment.
Isagi must've sensed him because he glanced over his shoulder, a warm, easy smile tugging at his lips.
“Hey.” Isagi greeted, voice softer than Rin had ever heard it. He wasn't smiling out of amusement, not mockery– or even satisfaction. Just something genuine. Like he was relieved. Like Rin being here, standing in his kitchen in his borrowed clothes, wasn't some kind of inconvenience.
Rin swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.
“Sit down,” Isagi said, gesturing with a tilt of his chin toward the small dining table. “It's almost done.”
Rin hesitated, then did as he was told, lowering into one of the two chairs stationed at the dining table. He clenched his teeth, before, Rin didn't take orders from anyone. He was number one. He was the one to order people what to do. Now the person who dethroned him was doing the same– except in a more comforting tone.
Silence settled between them, except for the soft bubbling of the pot and the occasional clink of Isagi's spoon against it. After a few more minutes, Isagi turned off the stove and ladled out two bowls of soup, carrying them over to the wooden table. He set one in front of Rin before sitting across from him.
Rin blinked down at the steaming bowl. His fingers curled around the ceramic bowl, letting the warmth seep into his fingertips.
“You really didn't have to–”
“Just eat, Rin.” Isagi interrupted, his voice firm but lacking its usual bite. “You need it.”
Rin stared at him, lips parted slightly before pressing them back together. He didn't have a rebuttal. He lifted the spoon to his lips, taking a small sip. The broth was warm, and it spread through his chest. He set down the spoon carefully, staring at the rippling surface of the soup.
Isagi didn’t push. He just ate quietly, glancing at Rin every now and then, but not forcing him to talk.
It was strange. Isagi was never the type to let things go unsaid. He was persistent, always demanding answers, always calling Rin out when he was being difficult. But now, he was just.. Here. Not pushing. Not demanding. Not lecturing.
Just here.
Rin let out a slow breath, picking up his spoon again.
They ate in near silence, the only sounds filling the room were the soft clatter of utensils and the quiet hum of the city outside.
Isagi insisted Rin take his bed, even if just for the night. Rin wanted to argue, but the weight of everything– the ocean, the exhaustion, the sheer absurdity of this entire night– kept him silent. So now here Rin was, sitting on Isagi's bed, in his clothes, in his apartment.
Great, another thing to add to the list.
At Least now Rin could sit with his thoughts, truly let everything that happened sink in, let the loneliness wrap around him like a second skin.
But as if Isagi had a sixth sense, some kind of goddamn radar for when Rin was about to spiral, Isagi appeared at the doorway, tapping lightly on it to alert Rin of his presence.
Rin's head snapped up, startled. The dim light from outside flood in, casting an almost angel-like glow around the navy-headed figure leaning against the door frame. For a split second, Rin thought he was imagining him.
“Hey.” Isagi said gently, using that same signature soft voice.
Rin didn't respond, and Isagi took Rin's silence as an invitation to step inside and sit beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was thick– suffocating, almost – but Rin wasn't sure he wanted to break it, afraid of what came next.
Isagi looked ahead, sitting in silence, like he wanted to say something badly. His fingers tapping on his thigh.
“Rin..” Isagi started, “What's.. Going on with you?” he questioned, cautiously, breaking the thick tension that had been swirling since they left the beach.
It was such a simple question. Gentle, cautious, like Isagi was afraid that if he pushed too hard, Rin might shatter right in front of him.
The words were stuck in Rin’s throat. It's a reasonable thing to ask, seeming as Isagi was the one to intercept Rin trying to kill himself, he had every right to ask.
Rin turned his head slightly, looking at Isagi through the corner of his eye. But the moment he saw the worry etched into his face, the concern in his deep blue eyes, something inside him cracked.
Oh.
Wetness traced down his cheeks before he even registered what was happening. Rin lifted a hand to his face, fingertips brushing against the warm, damp trail. He blinked, dazed.
He was crying.
No.
No, no, no–
His breath hitched as he immediately turned away, trying to conceal his face, he'd already embarrassed himself enough tonight. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his fingers trying desperately to wipe away the waterfall that had somehow emerged from inside him.
Why now?
Why, after months of feeling nothing, after drowning in silence– after standing at the edge of death itself –why was it now, when someone finally asked, that everything decided to break loose?
A sharp, strangled breath left his throat. His vision blurred, his hands shook. His entire body trembled under the weight of months of neglect, of loneliness, of exhaustion.
And then—just as unexpectedly as the outstretched hands that had pulled him from the depths of the ocean—Isagi moved.
Rin froze, breath catching in his throat. Suddenly, Rin found himself pulled into Isagi's chest. Strong arms wrapped around his back, anchoring him in place.
“It's okay, Rin.” Isagi whispered to him, voice so close to his ear it sent a shudder through his spine. “Let it all out.” Said with such comfort, it made him want to cry.
And he did.
A raw, broken sob ripped from his throat.
His finger clutched desperately at the fabric of Isagi's hoodie, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. His entire frame shook as he buried his face into Isagi’s shoulder, breath hitching, chest heaving, months of agony spilling from him in the form of ragged, silent cries.
Isagi didn't say anything. Didn't rush him, didn't try to force the words out of him, didn't pull away. He just held Rin, kept him there, grounded.
As Rin's sobs quieted, his breathing still uneven against Isagi’s shoulder, a whisper broke through the silence– gentle, steady, unwavering.
“You’re not alone, Rin. Not anymore.”