tenipuri_xp | RP Log: Inui, Renji

Date: Monday, November 12th
Rating: G
Summary: Renji returns to Tokyo after nine years, nine months, and sixteen days. Inui awaits. Being twenty-five now, and not fifteen, the reunion goes fairly well, despite the unanswered questions (to be left for a later day). ♥

Renji had a book in hand, and a satchel tucked away at his feet. Theoretically, the vague restlessness plaguing his limbs could be due to the lack of space in which to move them; however, shinkansen seats were decently spacious for the average person. Although Renji was slightly taller than average sized, he still considered it a relatively comfortable journey.

Practically speaking, it was the destination (rather than the train) that kept him only on the novel's ninety-third page, two hours into the journey. Tokyo. He hadn't been back since leaving nine years, nine months, and sixteen days ago.

He found himself only on the ninety-eighth page when the bullet train began to slow on approach to Tokyo Station.

It was 1448. Renji would be arriving at 1450. One minute and 50 seconds left until he would arrive. Inui had not been in contact with him for nine years, nine months, and thirteen days. Not a phone call nor an email until Renji emerged that Friday afternoon.

Inui stood on the platform, tall and well-dressed. Every 10 seconds he would pull out his PDA, flip it open, and check the time. 1449; he could hear the shinkansen approaching. It was early.

It was just as well that Renji was not sitting on the platform side of the train, or the temptation to simply stare out of the window as the train slowed (so arduously) would likely have been too great. As it was, only years of meditation and his innately calm nature kept him seated, eyes still on the pages of his book, as the train stopped and its initial throng of passengers alighted.

He was not in a hurry, and it would not do to cause unnecessary disturbance.

With an assumed, deliberate patience, he joined the pepper of stragglers, almost last to leave.

The passengers exited out of the train in a mass, and Inui held his breath involuntarily. His eyes flicked over each person's face, and he wondered too late if Renji would look the same. The mass of people thinned out and the last few were finally exiting.

He started to doubt he'd recorded the correct date of arrival.

Renji glanced up once or twice; Tokyo station was as busy as he'd remembered it. Eyes tracking back down to the phone in his hand, he brought up Inui's number as something to keep his eyes on. It glowed detatchedly just above the green Call button, and a small smile crept onto Renji's face as he stepped off the train. He didn't anticipate needing to call.

The probability that Inui would see him first, and within the next ten seconds, was almost absolute. The thought that Inui would not be there? Already soundly dismissed.

The line grew sparse and Inui reached for his PDA in anticipation that Renji was not on the train. Then a man stepped out, last in line. He looked different; tall, older, but it corresponded with Inui's image of his friend despite the differences. Renji.

The secretary straightened, paused for a moment, then calmly walked up to the man who wasn't at all busy with his phone. What to say to a person whom you haven't seen in nine years, nine months, and sixteen days?

"Renji."

The inflection was unmistakeable. Expectedly, Inui's voice hadn't changed.

Interestingly, neither had Renji's memory of it.

A small knot stopped his smile from growing, but one could only deduce so much from an old friend's shoes. He waited a heartbeat before snapping his phone shut, sliding it into a back pocket; calmly, he raised his chin. “Sadaharu.”

Inui took in a soft breath when he realized he hadn't after uttering his friend's name. He had been more uncertain that he'd thought: about fifteen percent more. But it was confirmed by the familiar voice, though Inui didn't breathe any easier.

"It has been a while."

Perhaps this was excitement.

Renji nodded, smile growing, though on only one side. "It has."

A pause. The moment (undefined though it was) had come, passed and gone. Typically understated in their traditional style, he supposed, for all that it had been on his mind since the potential to transferring to Tokyo had first arisen.

He looked back down, a few degrees to the right.

"I doubt either of us would have predicted these circumstances."

Inui did not smile at first, preoccupied with remaining stable, but Renji's expression lightened the weight from his chest for a reason he didn't quite understand.

"I hadn't foreseen a situation quite like this," he affirmed the other's statement, smile fading. Renji hadn't looked at him directly yet.

Inui paused, gaze lowered. After a moment, his gaze picked up, and he reached out, resting his hand on Renji's shoulder. "But it's good to see you again." A sign of continued friendship.

To say Renji was surprised by the gesture may have been accurate. He had expected a near-decade apart to be too long for that degree of familiarity, no matter how close they had been in the past. But he did appreciate the gesture's significance.

Unsurprisingly, his heart rate experienced a momentary increase by twenty percent.

A hand raised to Inui's, covering it lightly for one, two seconds. "Thank you," Renji said, and returned his hand to his side. Smiling, he looked back up, meeting Inui's gaze properly at last. "I am glad to see you, too." And he meant it.

Though Inui had instigated the expression of further friendship, he hadn't predicted that Renji would return the gesture in such a way. Though brief, the contact was warm and touching in a non-physical sense, and he appreciated it.

Their gazes met for the first time in years. He remembered that Renji's eyes were dark and elegantly slanted. They suited him, but they were also typically Asian. But when their gazes met, his eyes were pitch black, and he couldn't tell where the cornea ended and the sclera began. Renji was a mutant.

Inui's gaze fixated on Renji's, almost mesmerized. Any surprise he may have felt left him instantly, a certain giddiness that wasn't exactly his own filling him. His stoic expression cracked, and he smiled, wider than he ever had in years.

"We should celebrate."

Renji felt himself smiling in return, though closed his eyes again as he let out a soundless chuckle. He was almost certain his control had just slipped, though did not calculate the odds (or extent) of his hypnosis affecting his friend's emotions.

Just this once.

"To the common denominator," he said instead, offering a premature toast in agreement of Inui's suggestion.

The sudden swell of emotion dissipated, but it left Inui feeling more at ease rather than confused. His smile grew more reserved, but a soft chortle escaped from his lips.

"To infinite we approach." They had much to catch up on.