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When Rinne met Kohaku, he had short nails.
He was a small body with pale pink hair in an office chair. He was a boy sat with slumped shoulders and a rhythmic pattern of his finger pads thumping on the table. Rinne only knows they’re short because it stood out to him particularly in that otherwise quiet room. It wasn’t a tap, tap, tap, it was a thump, thump, thump.
When Rinne met Kohaku, he was just a scowl on an, otherwise, cute face.
“Vice Prez, ain’t there an age limit to be an idol? I didn’t know y’all got kids out here.” He cackled.
Perhaps their first impressions weren’t that great. Rinne got a glimpse of his back and Kohaku got an insult.
Ibara follows his movements as he walks through the door, failing to announce his presence and overall being just rude. “Welcome, Amagi-shi! Please have a seat, this will be quick.”
Rinne acknowledged him with a nod, but all of his focus is on the boy in the chair. So much so he can’t even catch himself from muttering a “goddamn”. Mostly because Kohaku looked so young and he was wondering how the hell he was supposed to work with someone over half a decade younger than him, but also because this kid looked fucking mean. He has the aura of someone who’s seen shit and Rinne did not want to open that can of worms.
Sensing the tension before it grows, Ibara steps in, “Now, perhaps you should introduce yourself properly? A rough relationship wouldn’t be favorable for the future.”
The future. Right, that’s what he was there for. Not to make fun of some child. Amagi Rinne remembers seeing his future in Kohaku’s pissed off eyes. Blue and red do make purple, after all.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re so right, Vice President-kun. As always.” He crashed into the empty chair beside the boy, leaning his elbows on his knees. Kohaku straightened up and scooted away from him, understandably. His disgusted expression still makes Rinne snicker to this day.
“Hey, your super young.” Way to point out the obvious. “Why don’t you go back to yer mommy and daddy?”
If Kohaku were an animal, he would’ve growled and bared his fangs then and there. Rinne liked that about Kohaku— still does; he’s polite by heart, but he can damn sure drop all manners if he gets pissed off enough. He’s respectable. He won’t allow himself to get pushed around or messed with.
“Y’know, they’ll kill ya out there. The idol industry won’t stop at some kid. You’ll get stomped on mercilessly by a stampede and left to die a slow, painful death…” The words were exaggerated, drawn out to add emphasis— to possibly scare the boy. He knows better now, though; Kohaku won’t give up so easily by mere words.
He watched for any change in Kohaku’s expression. “So turn back now, yeah?” He added cheerfully at the end, completely contrasting his dark words from before.
Kohaku sucks his tongue, letting Rinne’s words soak into the air.
“‘M not a fuckin’ kid. If anythin’, you’re the goddamn kid. Maybe we wouldn’t be stuck together if you weren’t some dumbass that couldn’t keep his trap shut an’ his hands at his sides.” He spit.
At this point, Rinne was still getting used to the persona he was setting up. People’s reactions to his antics were still foreign and something he didn’t particularly like, but he was gradually getting used to them. Kohaku’s first words to him would’ve put him back maybe two years ago, but now, they’re a delight to hear. He needs someone like Kohaku to balance out everything else.
Rinne nodded along with fake regard, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh,” Sitting back up in his chair, he cracked his neck. He remembers scanning his brain clean for the best words to not make this kid up and leave the unit, but also still sound like himself.
“Yeah, this one’s gonna be hell to deal with alright.” He let out a hyena laugh. Ibara warned him with strain.
“Listen: you may not know it yet, but me and you have big plans.” He waved his finger between the two of them. “Plans that’ll change how everyone here thinks and lives. Including us. As long as you aren’t dead weight, I’m sure we’ll grow to love each other, Kohaku-chan.”
The boy shifted his gaze to the side, Rinne watched him. “You’re the one that’s gonna be dead weight.”
Thump, thump, thump.
He grinned, “What was that?”
“Nothin’, Rinne-han.”
Kohaku then flicked his glance to Ibara, right over Rinne, more or less asking for help in getting Rinne to shut the hell up. When all Ibara gave him was a wide, professional-like smile and a nod, as if that were the perfect conversation for them to be having, Kohaku continued, “I’m looking forward to workin’ with you an’ the rest of the unit.” He forced out sighing, and added an “I guess” at the end.
“Excellent! You two seem to get along just marvelously!” The two make their own kind of faces at that. “Well then, let me excuse myself, as I am no longer useful here. The two of you are free to go as well; this was just a simple greeting to clear any introductions getting in the way of further unit activities. Excellent doings! I salute~!”
“If this is just for introductions, then why the hell’re you here?”
“Observation purposes! It is important that unitmates get along well.” Just say you knew someone would end up dead if there wasn’t a chaperone.
Kohaku speaks for the two of them, “It is. Thank ya, Vice President-han. Sorry for the language,” Kohaku nodded politely. Rinne copied him in a more exaggerated manner, earning another glare. “I’ll be takin’ my leave too since this ‘s over. Have a nice rest of your day.”
Then suddenly the thumping is over and Kohaku is taking his bag from his lap and following Ibara out of the door, sending another dirty look to Rinne before shutting the door much harder than he needed to. Rinne silently laughed at his antics, spinning in the chair and sighing. From what he’s just seen and heard, he knows he’s making the right choice with this unit.
To give up his dream of making people smile and shining uncontrollably on stage doesn’t seem as hard if he’s giving it to this kid. When he said they had plans Kohaku didn’t know about, he damn sure meant it. And it didn’t stop at plans— unavoidable attachment and dependency is a guaranteed factor Rinne was aware would come with this unit. After all, it’s rare to spend most of your time with someone and not grow attached, even if it’s just a little bit. He just hopes Kohaku really does hate him; it’s easier to leave him that way.
“Hey, Kohaku-chan. Have yer nails always been that long?” He knows the answer to that question— how could he forget. Kohaku’s nail biting habit was very obvious from the beginning. He’d sit in the corner of their first few practices just chomping away at them, and when they got down to where it hurt to, he’d go for the skin. It, frankly, disgusted HiMERU, them having immediately told Kohaku to quit that and Kohaku ignoring them. He only ever did stop when Anzu told him it would interfere with his work.
Rinne only approaches him with the topic as a reason to annoy the boy. Because, God— God, how could he forget the scratching. Kohaku’s slapping and kicking at him worked for a while, but eventually when it was no longer effective, he turned to scratching. And damn did it hurt. Rinne still flinches when he’s messing with him and the boy makes a move too suddenly. Fucking animal.
Kohaku glances up from his phone, “What do ya mean?” Just now being conscious of them, he flexes his hand out, palm facing away from him to observe.
“No, what do you mean. I can hear ya typin’ like the world’s gonna end from all the way over there.”
“‘M not typin’ like the world’s gonna end, ‘m typin’ normal,” he huffs out in confusion.
“Yeah. To Girlfriend-kun?” Rinne questions, and judging by the other’s reaction, his guess was right. “I really don’t see the appeal in texting. Wouldn’t ya wanna see his sweet, cute face in person?”
“He has a name, and he is not my girlfriend. And don’t you dare call him cute again.” HiMERU makes a face of amusement from the other side of the couch while still pretending to ignore the two.
Rinne steps back with his hand up like he’s been caught guilty, “Woah, my fault. Didn’t know that hit yer nerves.”
Kohaku rolls his eyes and shoos the redhead away, “Is that all ya needed? ‘M kinda busy.”
“With what exactly? You plannin’ a date together?”
Ignoring the obvious asking of him to go away, he plops on the couch between the two others and leans over into Kohaku’s personal bubble, “Here, let ol’ Rinne-han see. If anyone knows a thing or two ‘bout strikin’ a date, it’s him.”
“It is definitely not him,” Kohaku snorts. “I’d have more luck asking HiMERU-han than you.”
“HiMERU doesn’t like what that implies.”
Rinne positively lights up, “So that does mean yer goin’ on a date! And here I thought you were still some innocent lil’ kiddie,” he sighs in feigned sadness. “They really do age too quickly. Isn’t that right, Merumeru?”
HiMERU doesn’t indulge him this time, and Kohaku looks confused again for a second before catching his words, “No- don’t twist my words. We’re not goin’ on a date.” He stammers out.
The older eyes him— his squinted eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the frown on his lips. He almost looks as mad as when they first met, but then again, he’s always that mad when it comes to Rinne. But Rinne knows, and HiMERU knows, and probably even Niki knows that Kohaku could never, ever feel even the slightest hint of hatred toward Rinne. Even if he truly did in the beginning and even if he really thought of Rinne as just someone else trying to belittle him and taunt and mock him.
Kohaku is a picture perfect example of how drastically you can turn from hating someone to loving them so much you don’t know what to do with yourself.
So, Kohaku’s face really isn’t anything like how it was all those months ago. If anything, Rinne oughta call himself stupid for comparing the two. He glances down to the now perfectly manicured nails of his right hand that lay out on his thigh. Even those have changed so much. Because it isn’t a thump, thump, thump that Rinne hears whenever he’s near Kohaku now, it’s a tap, tap, tap.
Rinne’s taken into count everything that’s changed about the boy, it’s not just his nails. His hair that now tickles his shoulders and is sometimes pulled into a ponytail on the hottest of days. His being on edge that went from down right concerning to nonexistent in the presence of his unitmates. There’s so much more, Rinne could write a book about this kid and title it something like Observations of a Fucking Brat and sell thousands of copies. Actually, that’s a nice idea. Maybe the kid’d feel honored.
“No, you definitely are. Did Ai-chan do your nails, too?” That earns him a swipe of claws he almost falls victim to.
“You little-“
Kohaku growls, “Yeah. Why don’t you see how good he did them firsthand, huh?”
Defeated and simply not wanting to take Kohaku up on that, Rinne grumbles, “Rather not. Already learned my lesson.” The boy still shoots up to where he already backed away and claws him right down his forearm. “Ay! I said I learned my lesson! That fuckin’ hurt!”
And then Kohaku is landing back on the couch, doubled over laughing— so genuine and full of life, from the soul and uncontrollable, when it’s usually the complete opposite and he always contains himself. Rinne can’t even feel the stinging of the marks anymore. Well damn, he’s not even the slightest bit offended he’s laughing at his own pain, because Rinne would cut off an arm and gauge out his eyes to hear that sound on repeat if given the chance.
Maybe that’d be the longest chapter in his book.