Rin Touya · Chat

<scenario>Late April. Bunkyo Ward, Tokyo. Seiran Private High School.</scenario> <narration>The concrete school building, a relic of the Showa era, is covered in ivy that glows a burning dark red under the setting sun. From the sports field, the sounds of the baseball club practicing—the crack of the bat—drift across three buildings, muffled like a heartbeat.</narration> <scenario>Third-floor corridor, outside the Anime Club room.</scenario> <action>When Touya Rin pushed the door open and stepped out, his footsteps sounded exceptionally clear in the empty hallway.</action> <narration>He wore his uniform, but very casually—his shirt was untucked, and his tie hung loosely around his neck, as if he had just grabbed them and thrown them on after waking up. In fact, he had just woken up. He had fallen asleep during the latter half of the club activity and only woke up after Shiratori Ii whacked him on the head three times with a manga book.</narration> <message>Rin-kun, were you actually listening to me?</message> <narration>In his memory, Shiratori Ii's voice still echoed in his ears, carrying that characteristic, slightly annoying upward lilt.</narration>Touya Rin打了个哈欠, 拖着脚步往走廊尽头走。售卖机就在楼梯拐角处, 那台老旧的机器总是发出嗡嗡的低鸣, 像是某种永不停歇的催眠白噪音。</narration> <scenario>West corridor of the school building, in front of the vending machine.</scenario> <narration>His eyes were half-closed, his face devoid of expression—or rather, that face never had much expression to begin with. His classmates had long since grown used to this look, even giving him the nickname "Sleep Mode."</narration> <message>Ah, it's Touya-kun.</message> <narration>A voice came from the corner. Ike Sakiya was leaning against the windowsill next to the vending machine, clutching a half-finished can of soda. His school jacket was draped over his shoulders, and his hair looked even more explosive than usual—likely because he hadn't had time to tidy up after a gaming stream.</narration> <message>Isn't your club activity supposed to end at five?</message> <narration>Ike Sakiya frowned at him.</narration> <message>It's only four-thirty.</message> <message>Left early.</message> <message>...You skipped the second half again?</message> <message>Didn't skip. Fell asleep. I left after Shiratori whacked me awake.</message> <narration>Sakiya's expression contorted slightly, as if he were holding something back.</narration> <message>You call that not skipping?</message> <narration>Touya Rin didn't answer. He walked up to the vending machine and stared at the row of drinks. Behind the glass panel, cans and bottles of various colors were neatly arranged. His gaze swept from left to right, then right to left, and then stopped. The slot he wanted was empty.</narration> <message>...</message> <narration>Touya Rin's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.</narration> <message>Looking for that sugar-free oolong tea?</message> <narration>Sakiya poked his head over from the side, his tone tinged with a bit of schadenfreude.</narration> <message>Sold out. I saw Tokira Juu buy the last can with my own eyes.</message> <message>...</message> <narration>Touya Rin was silent for three seconds. Then he reached out and pressed the button next to it. A can of coffee dropped out.</narration> <message>Don't you hate coffee?</message> <message>Drinking it today.</message> <narration>Touya Rin bent down to retrieve the drink, pulled the tab, and took a sip. His expression didn't change at all, but his Adam's apple moved twice—that coffee was probably very bitter.</narration> <message>Why are you doing this to yourself?</message> <message>...Nothing else I wanted to drink.</message> <message>Then why didn't you buy juice?</message> <message>Too sweet.</message> <message>Sports drink?</message> <message>The color is too bright.</message> <message>...What exactly are your criteria for choosing a drink?</message> <narration>Touya Rin thought for a moment.</narration> <message>Low presence.</message> <narration>Sakiya opened his mouth to speak but ultimately gave up on further questioning. This was how conversations with this guy went—you never knew if he was actually answering you, just brushing you off, or both.</narration> <scenario>At the end of the corridor, the window was open, and the late April evening breeze blew in with the lingering scent of cherry blossoms.</scenario> <narration>Touya Rin leaned against the vending machine, taking sip after sip of the coffee he didn't even like. The setting sun shone through the window, stretching his shadow long across the terrazzo floor of the corridor. His eyes were half-closed again, as if he might enter sleep mode at any moment.</narration> <message>Hey,</message> <narration>Sakiya suddenly spoke.</narration> <message>Did you prepare for tomorrow's competition?</message> <message>No.</message> <message>...Can you have at least a little sense of urgency? Lin Qingye, who's ranked second in the whole school, supposedly went through thirty sets of practice exams.</message> <message>Oh.</message> <message>"Oh"?? Just "oh"??</message> <message>He does his thing, I take my test.</message> <narration>Sakiya took a deep breath, as if practicing some form of emotional management. Just then, footsteps came from the stairwell. Tokira Juu walked up. He looked the same as always—neat uniform, a well-behaved expression, and a can of oolong tea in his hand. That can of oolong tea.</narration> <narration>Touya Rin's gaze landed on the can, lingering for half a second.</narration> <narration>Tokira Juu walked to the vending machine, seemingly only then noticing Touya Rin and Ike Sakiya. He gave a slight nod as a greeting, and then—he held the oolong tea out toward Touya Rin.</narration> <message>Bought too many.</message> <narration>He said, his tone as flat as if he were stating the weather. Touya Rin glanced at him. Tokira Juu's expression had no flaws; that "good boy" face was full of the innocence of "I just happened to have it." But Touya Rin knew this guy. This seemingly harmless fellow could make someone cry with his sharp tongue, and he always used the calmest tone to say the most biting things.</narration> <message>...Thanks.</message> <narration>Touya Rin took the oolong tea and handed over the coffee he had taken two sips of.</narration> <message>Exchange?</message> <narration>Tokira Juu looked at the can of coffee, and the corner of his mouth twitched—that was likely his way of expressing disgust.</narration> <message>I don't want something you've already drunk from.</message> <message>Grossed out?</message> <message>Grossed out.</message> <message>Then drink that extra can yourself.</message> <message>I intended to give it to you from the start. Keep the coffee for yourself and suffer slowly.</message> <narration>Tokira Juu finished speaking, turned and left, his footsteps quickly disappearing into the stairwell. Touya Rin looked down at the two drinks in his hands—one bitter, and the one he had wanted to drink in the first place. ...What do you guys even call this? Friendship? Or mutual torture? <Ike Sakiya watched from the side, dumbfounded. Touya Rin didn't answer. He placed the coffee on top of the vending machine, pulled the tab on the oolong tea, and took a sip. His expression still didn't change. But if you looked closely—very closely—his shoulders seemed to relax just a little. The April dusk continued to burn, dyeing the entire corridor amber. The two of them just stood there by the vending machine, one drinking tea and the other drinking soda, neither saying another word. The sounds of club activities drifted from afar—the crack of the baseball bat, the brass from the wind instrument club, and laughter from some unknown classroom. Tokyo's twilight was always like this: noisy yet quiet, bright yet dim, like a collection of contradictions. Touya Rin closed his eyes. There was a competition tomorrow, midterms the day after, and a briefing for the field trip next week—he knew all these things, but in this moment, he chose not to know. Right now, he just wanted to stand by this vending machine, finish this can of oolong tea, and then go home and sleep. This was Touya Rin's daily life. Plain, lazy, and without a ripple. But for some reason—it felt as if something was slowly fermenting within this mundanity.</narration>