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[fujimaru]

Ritsuka Fujimaru | 藤丸 立香
19(?) / F / Who knows!!

This is Ritsuka! Leave a message and I'll get back to you.

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[impostorsyndrome]

[His arms tighten around her as she shifts closer, encouraging—he only lets himself get away with it because he's trying not to overthink this. It would be so easy to spiral into that and find himself feeling morally obliged to pull away, and to not even enjoy it in the meantime. Fighting that feeling takes active effort, but he wants to. He wants to have this for himself. And so does she, god knows why. Whyever that may be, he doesn't want to take it away from her.

Instead, he focuses on her: the fine shiver of her body, the lean of her weight just slightly against him. This . . . might also be a mistake. Those things are so much more exciting than it feels like they really should be. It's just a kiss! It's a first kiss! Neither of them is very good at it! So why does his body already feel like it's lighting up with little electric shocks here and there and everywhere? Kadoc comes out with an even more heated sigh when their tongues touch, shifting closer himself, unable to completely restrain his body's natural eagerness to lean in.]

[fujimaru]

[ Neither of them are very good at this, but it's still so good. Another shiver goes through her at the weight of his body against hers, and she leans into her own instinctive greed for more, and closer, for the moment uncaring about anything else. This isn't the best place for a makeout, especially one that feels dangerously close to escalating, but she can hardly make herself pull away. She's so touch-starved, and she's starting to realize that he might be as well. And in that case, how can she resist?

(She could. She could and maybe she should, at least until they're inside somewhere--but she's also just curious and eager. They've been stumbling towards this for a while, and now that they've actually reached this point, she just doesn't want to stop. It's nice to feel wanted in reciprocation for her own desires. Surely it's fine if they kiss a little longer, a little more eagerly, before they pull back and go--somewhere else. Whether it's together or separately, this can go on a little longer, right?) ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[It's just a kiss, definitely. Just a kiss, not making out, not full-on necking . . . definitely. But Kadoc can feel the part of him with enough control to keep it that way beginning to wear down already. He catches her lips this time a little too eagerly, making a breathless sound that's a little too hungry to be suitable for public. He's sure he's going to go too far and chase her off, but at every turn she's only responding eagerly, and what is he supposed to do, if it's like that? What if, just maybe, she actually does want this as much as he does? He trusts so few people to touch him, and he's outright starving for it.]

[fujimaru]

[ He's not the only one touch-starved. As surrounded as Ritsuka has been by care and protection, it's not really the sort of thing she's ever felt comfortable asking for. Anything to help in the Grand Order, certainly--anything that might be beneficial for the world at large. But for Ritsuka herself? That's so much harder to ask for.

But right now... right now, there doesn't seem to be a limit to what she can ask from him. The fact that he seems just as eager only encourages her further. Maybe it's okay? Maybe it's fine to want this, and to ask, and to give back what he seems to want from her in turn. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[It could go on forever, he thinks in one moment, and then in the next—ah, no, I have to stop this. He can feel the way he's right on the edge of losing just a little too much control for public. He has to break the kiss, pulling back with a gasp, and the sound of that too is not entirely appropriate, but he can't help it. He's flushed and panting and swallowing hard, feeling like a dumb horny teenager who can't keep it in his pants, just from a kiss with her!]

—Sorry, I—we should probably . . . uh.

[fujimaru]

Y--yeah.

[ Her voice is also rough, huskier than she's ever heard herself sound. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, automatic and instinctive, as she stares back at him. That happened? That really happened, and honestly, she's shocked herself a little. Even with the kiss broken, and even with her agreement, she does not pull away from him. ]

M... maybe we should--uh. My place or yours?

[impostorsyndrome]

You're—uh. If you're serious . . . your place okay?

[A thousand protests rise up from the part of him that believes this must be some mistake still. That part of him isn't going to die anytime soon, no matter how much progress he's made on it, and with her help, too. Kadoc can trust her entirely, does trust her entirely, and yet his own mind turns that on him instead, deciding that instead it must be itself that can't be trusted. He's misunderstood, somehow, or is dreaming, surely. Some outcome that makes him the fool here.

He has to work to quash those, but he does, meeting her eyes directly.]

[fujimaru]

Yeah.

[ If she knew his uncertainty, she would sympathize. It's not like she doesn't feel the same, in some way--considering where they started from, all the way back in the Russian Lostbelt... it's almost unbelievable, isn't it?

But she trusts her own heart, at least. She knows what she wants, and what she has wanted. Even if she hadn't allowed herself to imagine they could reach a point like this, she's always, always wanted to be closer to him.

Ritsuka lifts a hand to touch his cheek gently. It's an anchoring point of connection: you're here, and so am I. ]

I'd like it.

[impostorsyndrome]

. . . Yeah. Whatever "it" is, as long as it's hanging out with you . . . that's what I want.

[Not that it seems all that likely that they're going to go back to her place and start up a merry game of Yahtzee, but you know. If she sprang that on him? He honestly wouldn't complain. His head tilts just slightly into the warmth of her fingers, as light and soft as the little smile that settles onto his face.]

You lead the way?

[fujimaru]

[ That smile brings an answering one to her face, bright and helpless in her delight. It feels like maybe, just maybe, she's earned a look like that. It takes her a few more seconds before she can pull her hand away--but once she does, she just reaches to take his instead. ]

This way.

[ They can head back to her little home, quiet and dark and waiting for them. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[They're walking back to her place, holding hands. Because they're dating. They're together now. It all feels stupidly impossible. Kadoc is so used to the feeling of being "ordinary" as being a hideous point of agony for him, all his life, but right now . . . he feels ordinary, and it feels like a privilege, for once. This is an ordinary thing he gets to have.]

. . . Anyone else home?

[fujimaru]

[ They can HOLD HANDS as a couple and it's both legal and maybe even expected. Ritsuka herself is a little flushed, but she refuses to be her own roadblock. She wants to be able to hold hands with someone without it being some dramatic end-of-life thing. This is just two people in a relationship, walking hand in hand. ]

No. It's just me right now.

[ Which... is certainly a thing, isn't it? They're going to be Alone Together. Wild. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

. . .

[His brain doesn't know what to come out with that doesn't sound weird. Finally he just says:]

Nice.

[And is immediately embarrassed and paranoid about having done that. Don't be that guy, Kadoc Zemlupus!!!]

[fujimaru]

[ She blinks a moment, startled, and then starts to laugh, low and quiet--but she tightens her grip on his hand, just in case he gets the wrong idea, using that as an anchor to pull herself in closer to him, bumping her shoulder against his. That was cute? That was weirdly cute, and maybe she should be offended, or annoyed, but instead she's just charmed. ]

Yeah, so, you might as well come inside for a while.

[impostorsyndrome]

[He squeezes her hand, letting out a sigh of relief. He didn't chase her off forever by being a creep! He can be normal about this! She seemed to think it was funny!]

I'd like that. If you're cool with it. . . . I wanna spend a little more time with you.

[fujimaru]

[ She thinks he's both charming and cute, among other positive things. Amazing, what spending quiet and quality time with someone can do to you. ]

I want that, too. Maybe I'm just clingy? But I don't wanna let you go home yet.

[impostorsyndrome]

If that's clingy, I don't know why anyone complains about clingy people. Maybe 'cuz not all of them feel as good to be around as you.

[He says that earnestly, not as a line, but he flushes pink anyway because it sounds like a line!]

[fujimaru]

...

[ She knows better than to actually think it's a line--she knows him! She knows what kind of person he is, and that sort of flirting is definitely not something she believes he could pull off without choking. He had to be sincere about it, which is one of her greatest weaknesses. Just hearing someone express a genuine emotion like that for her--and especially someone she likes already... wild. ]

O--okay, then, uh... I guess I'll just cling to you some more.

[impostorsyndrome]

. . . Yeah. I'd like that.

[Now the full force of her reaction bowls him over. He was already teetering on the edge of embarrassment, and now she . . . she's like this, that's all! She's always like this. Her sincere reaction to hearing that tugs at his heart just as much as his sincere words had hers.

He takes her hand and squeezes it.]

[fujimaru]

[ Her fingers curl around his, immediately, clinging tightly--and after a second, she lists to the side a little, just enough so that her shoulder brushes his. She can't really look at him straight on for the moment, but she does peek up at him sidelong, her face pink and obvious even in the dimness of the evening.

The rest of the walk she stays silent, but also close. For the moment, she's not sure what she could say that wouldn't be--some very embarrassing and probably premature confessions, but she wants that contact. As long as he'll allow her to cling, she will. ]

[impostorsyndrome]

[It's a comfortable silence, at least on Kadoc's part. Not that things aren't tense, but it's a pleasant sort of tension, a buzzing, disbelieving excitement rather than a lingering awkwardness. When he lets go of her hand, a block away from her place, it's only so he can wrap his arm around her instead and press against her side. Some inner part of him panics even at this, that it's too much . . . but he wants to cling, too.]

[fujimaru]

[ Oh. Ohhhhhh. Ritsuka gasps a little at the weight of his arm, a startled hiccup of noise, and then she leans more into it, her own arm snaking around his back. She feels exactly like a girl on a date, which--she is, isn't she? She's a girl with her boyfriend, walking home after a nice dinner together. This is allowed. It might even be expected.

She puts her head on his shoulder, tilted, until they reach her door, and she has to reluctantly peel away so she can find her key and let them both in. ]

Um. Welcome to my home.

[impostorsyndrome]

. . . Thanks for having me.

[Strange that her saying that should humble him. But it does; he feels it seep in, the tender weight of being invited into her home. This is her place, and she'd wanted him here. He looks around with more interest than he realized he had, keeping close to her side, hand on her back.]

[fujimaru]

I wanted you here.

[ She doesn't know she's echoing those thoughts, but they're true. She'd wanted him here. It feels so lonely and empty here by herself, even if it's a small, cozy place. It's been decorated in warm colors--light cream, sunny teal-green, and dark wood accents. Things are a little cluttered, because Ritsuka is only casual when it comes to housekeeping, and she likes to collect things--souvenirs of her time in this city, mementos of friends and events past.

She leads him to the living room, which is dominated by a very nice plush couch set opposite of a fireplace, then pauses. ]

Um. I could make us something to drink? I've got herbal teas and stuff.

[impostorsyndrome]

Yeah . . . that'd be nice.

[He glances at the couch. But if she's going to make tea, she's going to be in the kitchen, right? It feels clingy to an outlandish, humiliating degree to want to hang out in the kitchen with her rather than sit alone on the couch, but that's where he's at, apparently.

The sting of that embarrassment is dampened some by a quiet realization: it's not anxiety that's making him want to follow her in there. It so easily could be, and often is: the trivial, stupid social anxiety of feeling awkward an uncertain what to do when he's alone-ish in someone else's house, and the deeper, more painful anxiety of being certain that she has a reason for offering to leave the room. To laugh at him. To text a friend begging for an excuse to throw him out. Hell, to jump out the window—those are all familiar thoughts. But they aren't the ones he's having right now.

No, he literally just wants to bask in the presence of his new! girlfriend! for a while. Wow. Lame, dude.

But a much happier lame than stupid neurosis lame.

So he heads for the kitchen.]