Eros. (Benimaru Shinmon)

八十三

Captain Hibana's gaze sharpened, her brows knitting together in a mix of confusion and irritation as she stepped forward, eyes fixed on me. "Why didn't you say that to me directly?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Why did you have to direct it towards Konro?"

I didn't stop moving, my steps deliberate as I began to walk away. But before I fully turned my back on her, I glanced over my shoulder, my expression cool and unwavering. "Because your physique," I said, my voice calm yet pointed, "is far too much like Benimaru's type back then."

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, the impact immediate and unmistakable. I could practically feel the ripple of shock that spread through the room. Konro, usually the picture of composure, choked back a cough, his eyes widening in disbelief as the realization of what I'd just implied hit him. He looked from me to Benimaru.

As for Benimaru, he stood frozen for a moment, the weight of my words sinking in. His expression was one of pure shock, his eyes widening as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. The room was still, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, piecing together the reasons for my earlier hesitation. Slowly, he raised a hand to his hair, combing through it in a nervous gesture I'd seen him do countless times before, though this time there was a hint of guilt in his eyes.

Finally, understanding dawned on his face, and his features softened with a mix of regret and acceptance. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He finally understood why I had wanted to take a rain check on our date, why I had hesitated, and why I had been distant. The unspoken history between us, the wounds from two years ago, still lingered, and seeing someone like Hibana—someone who fit the mold of his old type—had stirred up all those insecurities.

Shinra, however, was completely lost, his expression a perfect picture of confusion. He glanced around the room, his wide eyes darting between us as if trying to catch on to some thread of the conversation that he had clearly missed. "Wait, what? What just happened?" he asked, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

But I didn't stop to explain. I continued walking, my back straight, my mind resolute. I didn't need to spell it out any further; the point had been made, and I wasn't about to dwell on it. There were more important things to focus on, like my team's recovery and the battles still to come.

As I stepped out of the room, I could feel the tension lingering behind me, but I also knew that I had been honest—brutally so. The truth had been laid bare, and now it was up to Benimaru to grapple with it, to understand the consequences of his past actions and how they still rippled through the present.

Captain Hibana remained silent, likely processing my words, while Konro and Benimaru were left to navigate the awkward aftermath of the conversation. And as for Shinra, well, he'd figure it out eventually. For now, I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Benimaru stood there, still processing the bombshell I had just dropped. His hand, which had been running through his hair in that nervous, almost boyish gesture, stilled mid-motion. The room was heavy with an awkward, tense silence, everyone either too shocked or too unsure to speak.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, I heard him mutter, "Fuck."

The word slipped out, raw and unfiltered, carrying with it all the frustration, regret, and understanding that had just crashed down on him. It was a single, potent syllable that conveyed everything he was feeling—the realization of how deeply the past still affected the present, the recognition of the hurt he had caused, and the complicated mess of emotions that he now had to untangle.

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes staring at the ground, the weight of everything settling heavily on his shoulders. The word echoed in the room, hanging in the air as a testament to the truth that had just been spoken. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for Benimaru, one that laid bare the internal battle he was now fighting.

As Benimaru's muttered curse hung in the air, I turned away and walked back down the corridor, my mind still buzzing with the intensity of the moment. I needed to be somewhere else, somewhere familiar and comforting. When I reached the room where Akira and Ichijiro were resting, I found Akira leaning against the wall, one leg propped up, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were closed, but there was a small, knowing smirk on his lips. Ichijiro, meanwhile, was sound asleep, his face finally showing a healthy color that eased the worry that had been gnawing at me.

"Shouldn't you be on a date with that man?" Akira teased, his voice low and laced with amusement, though his eyes remained closed.

I chuckled softly, moving to lean against the pillar beside him, our shoulders almost touching. "Shinra and Captain Hibana showed up," I replied, a hint of bitterness slipping into my tone. "I canceled it. Too many reminders of the past."

Akira opened one eye and turned his head towards me, the teasing smirk still playing on his lips. Slowly, though clearly in pain, he swung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a sideways embrace. The gesture was awkward and a little stiff, but it was filled with the warmth of our shared bond.

"Don't strain yourself," I said, a smug smile tugging at my lips as I looked up at him, knowing full well he was pushing his limits.

He just chuckled, ignoring my warning. "You're like a sister to me, Inori," he murmured, his voice softer now, more serious.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the heat of my abilities. "And you're the brother I never wanted," I quipped back, the corners of my mouth twitching into a grin.

Akira pretended to be wounded, feigning a hurt expression, but it quickly dissolved into laughter. The sound was infectious, and for a moment, the heaviness of everything that had happened seemed to lift, leaving only the simple joy of being together.

As our laughter faded, Akira's expression grew more thoughtful. He sighed deeply and glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the sleeping form of Ichijiro. "How long do you think we'll have to stay in this hellhole?" he asked, the weight of the past few days evident in his voice.

I leaned back against the pillar, considering his question. "Maybe two or three days," I answered thoughtfully. "I want to make sure Ichijiro's fever is completely gone and that he can walk without any trouble before we move."

Akira sighed again, the sound heavy with resignation. "I hate being here," he muttered, his frustration clear. "But I guess it's necessary."

I reached out and squeezed his shoulder, offering what comfort I could. "It won't be forever," I reassured him.

After a moment, I noticed Akira's stomach growl faintly, and I smiled. "Are you hungry?"

He hesitated, his gaze drifting back to Ichijiro. "Yeah, but I don't want to leave him."

I smiled softly and pushed off the pillar, standing up straight. "I'll get us something," I said, my tone light as I started towards the door. "You stay here with him."

Akira nodded gratefully, watching me as I moved towards the shoji door. But as I slid it open, I found myself face to face with Benimaru.

We stood there for a moment, both of us caught off guard by the sudden encounter. His expression was a mix of lingering frustration and something softer, something that looked almost like regret. His eyes met mine, and I could see that he was still grappling with everything that had just happened between us.

"Benimaru," I said, the surprise evident in my voice as I stepped back slightly, giving him space to enter.

"Inori," he replied, his tone low, as if unsure of what to say next. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the tension between us still palpable.

I turned my attention back to Benimaru, forcing a small smile. "I was just heading out to get some food."

Benimaru's eyes flicked to Akira and then back to me. "I'll go with you," he said, his voice steady, but there was a note of something unresolved, something he wasn't quite ready to let go of.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and stepped out of the room, Benimaru following close behind. As the shoji door slid shut behind us, the tension between us hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and full of unspoken words.