Lurking Desire | Rindou Haitani | Ran Haitani

13|suck

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you turned and fled to the safety of your room, slamming the door shut behind you. You leaned against it, your heart racing as you slid to the floor, sobs racking your body. "Fuck life," you murmured to yourself, over and over again, as if it was a mantra that could somehow ease the pain.

The room was a prison, the walls closing in with each tortured breath you took. The bed looked like a battleground, the covers twisted and stained with your tears from countless nights of despair. The curtains, once your fortress against the outside world, now felt like bars on a cell, trapping you in a nightmare with no escape.

Days blurred into a sea of sadness, the brightness of the summer sun lost to the gloom that hung over you. The laughter and joy you once knew had been replaced by a heavy weight that dragged you down, no matter how hard you fought against it. The cosplay that used to bring you solace now felt like a mockery of your shattered soul.

You remembered the smiles you exchanged with Rindou, the way his eyes had lit up when you first met. It felt like a lifetime ago, a dream you once cherished but now realized was nothing more than a twisted illusion. Why would he do that to you? You found yourself asking over and over again, as if the answer could somehow make the pain less real.

Overwhelmed by the confrontation and the truth about Rindou, you retreat to your room, seeking refuge. The space that once offered comfort now feels like a prison. The joy of cosplay is lost to the haze of depression that envelops you. Memories of Rindou's charm now taunt you, a stark contrast to the reality of his twisted nature. You're trapped in a cycle of pain, questioning his motives and struggling to find solace amidst the shattered remnants of your happiness.

Just as you were about to cry again, the sound of a soft knock on the door pierced the silence. You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. Who could it be? Rindou, to gloat over his victory? Ran, to apologize for his brother's cruelty? Or perhaps it was your mother, to check on you or, worse, to scold you for the scene you'd caused.

But when the door opened, it was neither of them. Instead, there was Ran, holding a tray laden with steaming food. Lasagna, milktea, tuna pasta, siomai, and a plate of adobo with rice-each dish a favorite of yours. The smell of garlic and soy sauce filled the room, making your stomach growl despite the turmoil in your heart. You stared at him, utterly bewildered.

"I know I can't change what happened," he began, his voice sincere, "but I wanted to apologize for my behavior." He set the tray down on your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "I shouldn't have said those things to her. Or to you." He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. "But I can't stand seeing Rindou manipulate people."

You stared at the food, your stomach growling despite the knot of anger and betrayal that had been festering within you. It was all your favorite dishes-a peace offering, perhaps? You didn't know what to make of this new side of Ran, this... vulnerability. You'd only ever seen the cold, calculating facade he presented to the world.

"Why are you here?" you managed to ask, your voice hoarse from crying.

In a surprise move, Ran enters your room with a tray of your favorite foods, offering an apology for his earlier behavior. His vulnerability is unexpected, especially in the wake of the twins' darker nature. You're confused and conflicted, your anger and pain intertwining with the comfort of familiar, beloved dishes. His sincere apology and acknowledgment of his brother's manipulation offer a glimpse of humanity beneath his usually cold exterior.

Ran stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. "Because I know how much this whole situation is tearing you apart, and I don't want to see you hurt." His voice was indeed gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words days ago. It was as if he had switched from a predator to a caretaker, his tone measured and soothing, like a politician navigating a delicate negotiation.