Inception

Chapter 10: The End of No Search

Soshiro Hoshina was the swaggering, extroverted type with a quick wit and quicker reader of people. The last time he'd embarrassed himself socially had been back in middle school when his body did things without his permission. Humiliation was simply part of the puberty package.

Walking away from Lena Ichikawa, he could feel himself turning red from the top of his head to his shoulderblades.

"What the hell, how does that even make sense? Die? Only with her? Cherry?"

He slipped his fingers beneath his bangs so he could dig his nails in the hairline above his forehead. It had been an old habit created from when he still got acne there. Yet again, something he hadn't done since teenagehood.

But that's what Lena did to him. Against all his logic and experience.

Sure he'd had crushes. Sure he'd had dates. Sure, he was still a virgin, but that had simply been because he'd been higher class than that. He'd been raised in a very conservative family and, while a mischievous little brat, had taken a lot of pride in that. Sticking your dick in the wrong place would certainly cause issues with that. And part of a key to true skill was self-discipline, in and out of training. He saw those who slept around with those they had no intention of dedicating themselves to as low brow, non-disciplined, and immature.

Still, none of those dates or crushes had...had whatever the hell this was.

He clawed into his hairline some more, absentmindly searching for bumps that hadn't been there for half a decade.

He didn't pay attention to where he was heading. Images of a pink, pouting face framed by silver kept burning in the back of his mind.

"Play it cool, play it cool," he breathed deep. Then out. Forced his fingers from his scalp. Shook them out. "She'll probably forget it by tomorrow anyway. It's nothing...god, I'm an idiot."

But he really wasn't.

His legs moved him through the motions of his pre-retirement routines. He sent in the brief daily report. Made sure security had a night-duty guard and that whoever was assigned to lights-out duty had reported in. Had a pre-bed protein snack. Brushed and flossed. Stretched. Snuggled into his bed in his very own room. Vice President's got perks. He liked those perks.

An hour later found him still staring at his ceiling. He kept remembering how it god damn tingled when he touched her. It was just a fucking pinky, but damn it if it didn't make him want to scream.

He yanked out his pillow and yelled in it.

"I'm a grown-ass man!"

Not twelve and infatuated with the girl next door.

More than just a little frustrated, he did what he always did when he couldn't sleep: grabbed his training swords and headed to the training room.

This hadn't been the first time she'd kept him up. But he kept rehearsing his confession in his head, over and over, and found himself regretting every single word he said even as he overanalyzed ever expression she had made.

The burn of his own muscles was too much like the burn of touching her. He found himself unconsciously chasing it as he moved through the familiar motions. The heavy rubber blades whistled through the air. His sore feet, which he'd been on all day, protested. Sweat tickled down his face.

He'd always thought this was his world. This burn and ripple of movement, and that it would be up until the moment a kaiju forced him to stop. He'd been at peace about that. It made him like a firework, burning brilliantly until it fell out of the sky like a star. He'd taken pride in his own glory.

And yet, here he was, giving in to the very emotions that would make his fiery demise unacceptable. Getting into a relationship with Lena would make every fight terrifying in a way it hadn't been before. He'd have to rewrite his whole purpose, his whole person. She was going to ruin him.

And yet, even as he asked himself once more what the hell he was doing, he remembered when he'd finally given in.