pardon me, is this spot free? || ryukyo

01.

authors note: originally a oneshot, but i had a lot of fun writing this, so i made this an actual story. please enjoy!

**

Ukyo tries to blend out all the sounds and noises around him. He sighs and rubs his temples, then takes a deep breath.

Focus, he tells himself. Focus.

He isn't and has never been the one to bear loud noises from exterior sources other than his headphones well, and operating at the navy as a sonar technician had developed his sensitivity even further to the point where Ukyo fears to lose his hearing at any sound that barely surpasses the ninety decibel mark. But the passioned worker he's been, he's willingly accepted it and moved on, sure of himself that he was getting used to it.

Well, he thinks with another sigh, he was getting used to it. All for-

The thought irritates him and he furrows his eyebrows, staring blankly at the back of the train's double seats in front of him. He takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his platinum white hair, then closes his eyes.

Should he put his headphones on and listen to some music? Ukyo decides against it. He tends to lose himself lately, in both situations like these as well as in music, and he doesn't feel like adding another blurred layer above his senses.

Maybe he can zone out and not mind his environment anymore, he contemplates, and ignore how he's surrounded by loud kids without manners, parents hastily stowing away luggage into the compartments, group quarrels and general talks.

Maybe he hopes that he won't be as irritated by this soundly melee once he opens his eyes again.

"Pardon me, is this spot free?"

A voice suddenly comes from next to him, and as Ukyo looks up again, he's face to face with a strikingly handsome man. He looks like he's in his early twenties, and his expressions are lively; his honey blond hair almost reaches to his shoulders, with a single strand falling across his face, thick eyebrows frame his brown eyes, and as Ukyo locks eye contact with him, he means to see something close to mischief in them. But it's not ill-intentioned, and surprisingly honest, as far as Ukyo can tell.

And there is this sense of adventure that he radiates. The confident way he stands, slightly leaned back with his hands in the pockets of his expensive-looking navy pants, the way his lips are twirled up to a grin, and his exposed skin at neck and arms from his equally expensive-looking shirt, suntanned.

Ukyo catches himself just early enough to not be caught staring, and his cheeks redden just the slightest bit when he hurries a reply and puts his hat on again.

"Yes. Please have a seat."

"Thank you very much, Sir!" The man sits down on the seat next to him and leans back with a small sigh. He hums, stretching his arms, shifting in his seat, his eyes still fixated on Ukyo, who first tries to ignore him despite well knowing that he was being watched. But he fails and gives up, turning back to the blond with a small smile.

"Sorry, can I help you?"

"Ha, ha! I'm glad you asked!" The man calls out, almost causing Ukyo to startle, and flashes a bright smile and stops stretching, his arms now resting crossed behind his head. "You see, I can't shake off the feeling that I've met you before."

Ukyo smiles again, but it's more genuine now, almost apologetic. "My condolences, then. I cannot seem to remember you."

"What a pity, truly." Ukyo sighs, well aware that his tension isn't subsiding as he realizes how the other male is still studying him. Then he almost flinches when the blond clicks his fingers and laughs loudly.