Their hands connect and in that brief second Yagami imagines that they fit like puzzle pieces, a puzzle piece that he didn’t even realize was missing another. He can only glance at Fujiwara, the other teen’s face is impassive (no surprise there, he’s only known him for less than a day and Riku’s learned that his classmate’s deadpanned face is his default one.)
But Takeru’s eyes are shinning with a deep passion and something akin to faith and trust that it sets something aflame in Yagami.
Before he realizes it, he’s running full throttle and his heart is pounding from the exertion and excitement-
Riku feels like he’s flying and his lips stretch into a full blown grin.
His lungs desperately try to gulp down air and even though he’s sprawled out on the floor Yagami’s pleased because who doesn’t like winning? And he has to admit that he wasn’t expecting Heath-senpai to be so good, the third year didn’t even break a sweat and that in itself has him eager for another round.
Yagami opens his eyes and looks up at an upside down Fujiwara.
The raven haired teen holds out his hand and offers a barely audible huff and a tiny smile. His eyes shine with approval and satisfaction.
He stares wide eyes for a moment because it’s the first time that Fujiwara’s face has morphed to something that isn’t stoicism.
He grins again and accepts his hand.
Their hands slap together like magnets this time it last for more than a minute. Riku was wrong about one thing; their hands don’t fit like a puzzle piece.
They unite like magnets.
And something deep in his heart ignites.