All it took was a plane crash, and Kise Ryota was no more.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel sadness, only regret. Regret for not checking his engine beforehand. Regret for missing out on his friends with his job as a pilot. Regret for not spending t...
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Ryota raised a confused eyebrow as he followed the small brown head down Namimori's dim-lit streets. Only the sound of the low whistle of the wind remained as the street light paved their way, casting two shadows on the concrete. Minutes before, Ryota and Fuuta were catching up around some drinks in the older's apartment when the boy abruptly stood from the couch, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of his apartment.
Mikaël was unsure as to why the Ranking Prince became so agitated but didn't comment on it. He merely smiled affectionately at the boy's slightly childish behavior, letting himself be guided through the night, farther from the living district and further into the shopping district.
He heard Fuuta's footstep come to a halt and lifted his gaze, golden eyes drifted to a sign atop the shop's entrance. TakeSushi. He tilted his head, the name seemed somewhat familiar.
Fuuta pushed the door open, not bothering to knock and led the way inside. Mikaël could already make out the sound of chatters from outside, voices which he knew reached his ears one by one.
"Hello everyone, sorry for being late!" Fuuta greeted with a grin as he stepped inside, announcing his presence to all. "I brought Mika-nii!" He chirped.
Fuuta's voice seemed to echo in the room which suddenly turned dead silent at the mention of the green head. Mikaël, who was only a step behind Fuuta, tilted his head, a sham grin etched on his face as he waved at his underclassmen.
The group gapped at him, tentatively reaching to touch his arms to examine if he was the real deal. Ryota kept his brilliant sham smile on, never faltering as they more or less molested him to check his 'authenticity.'
The scene lasted approximately half a minute before they once again burst into chatters. Mikaël listened, adding his two cents from time to time but never initiating the conversation.
He didn't dislike them, he simply felt like he didn't fit. Though he could be considered a friend of Takeshi, the truth was he only was an upperclassman to them, an acquaintance at most. He hummed to himself, the only group he ever fit in was the Generation of Miracles, his golden eyes tinted themselves in melancholia before he blinked it away. But nowadays, he couldn't even pretend to be part of the GOM, their path wasn't the same, they didn't intertwine the same way.
Thinking about it, it felt somewhat lonely. Being so close yet so far from them, only able to watch from afar— because he knew, he would never regain what he lost on the plane crash. He could only taste a sample of it now.
