Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was an ordinary day with Ayato, Yanagi, Misato, Hatano—until Ayato's older brother brought two friends home. Their names are Mayama and Minamoto. 

According to the surprised exclamation of Ayato's mother, he stopped bringing people home when he succeeded at his driver's license on his first try. A rough time span of three or so years. I assume his newfound freedom as an eighteen-year-old naturally made his house seem boring in comparison. 

My boyfriend's older brother is a normal person yet inconceivably strange. He can predict the weather, rain or shine. His uncanny sixth sense isn't only limited to weather. Despite not knowing the Vice President, he hit the bullseye when he said that Hidetoshi confessed his hidden love for me. During the class trip, when Ayato fell through the damaged railing and we slipped down a rainy cliff, he cursed his older brother for being the cause.

Ayato's older brother also guessed my weakness to win his preferred choice of cake. He didn't tell Ayato, for which I'm grateful. I guess it's to tease his younger brother. 

Coincidentally, when I got in an argument with Ayato, his car stopped by, and he dropped me off at home. I only have a little sister, but this is probably what it feels like to have an older brother. He quietly supports my feelings for Ayato. I'm grateful. I initially approached him to integrate myself into Ayato's family, but I enjoy his company and witty commentary.

I'm lucky that Ayato likes me back. Boldly yet shyly, he shouted his confession to me. Beyond my wildest dreams, my first love from middle school is reciprocated. 

Hatano's love of eight years, though... He confided to me that he must have 'used up a lifetime's worth of luck' to meet him again. Hatano become a cat café employee at Cat Mate by the train station, but otherwise, there's not much progress. 

Now there's two mysterious friends.

Mayama is already familiar with their mother, bonding over their shared language of magical girl anime. He reminds me of myself, who asked her for Ayato's childhood photos.

Minamoto has struck up a conversation with Ayato, Yanagi and Misato over online RPGs. Apparently, he is majoring in Computer Science, so he plays and codes games.

To say the least, the current situation is not good.

Hatano is rapidly cycling through determined, depressed and desperate. 

As student council president, I had to confiscate Hatano's phone when I caught him looking up guides on how to become a sadist. 

At this point, Hatano is only a step above Misato—eleven years of loving Ayato, allegedly, though there is no confirmed childhood memory—who watched a porn sample on a school projector.

Only I know Ayato's older brother's type is an older, taller, busty, short-haired, sadistic teacher. I don't know if it's true or not. He's a perceptive person, to the point that I wonder if he has ESP. Which is silly. I believe in science. 

Psychic people don't exist, even though he appears to be borderline psychic. 

I'd like to play mahjong with him one day. Regardless of his skill level, he would be a fun opponent. Ayato monopolizes his time with his older brother, so I'm not sure when that will happen. 

While I'm still weighing on the best strategy to bring Hatano into the spotlight, Ayato's older brother and mother call from the kitchen. We gather around the dining table. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air. 

Unthinkingly, Ayato's older brother passes his coffee to his friends. "Minamoto." A cat-patterned cup. "Mayama-sensei." A second cat-patterned cup. 

This is a household that adores cats—ah, Mayama-sensei? Sensei? I ask about this affectionate term of address.

Ayato's older brother interrupts Mayama before he can say anything. "Ah, it's because Mayama-sensei pretends to be knowledgeable about sports, but his knowledge comes from shounen anime. Isn't that funny? Misato-kun probably knows more than Mayama."

Immediately, Misato boasts about his athletic prowess, and the conversation topic changes to which sports are popular in the Kansai region.

I don't forget the accidental slip-up, but I never get the opportunity to mention it again.

Eventually, Ayato's older brother leaves with Mayama and Minamoto, going out to drink with their other friends.

On the way home, I walk with Hatano, who is talking about Mayama and Minamoto. Once again, he is asking for love advice. It feels nice to be relied on.

However, I'm not paying proper attention, because my thoughts are wandering elsewhere.

Mayama

Older △ (unknown)
Taller ×
Big boobs ×
Short-haired ◎
Teacher ◎
Sadist ◎

Hatano

Older ×
Taller ×
Big boobs ×
Short-haired ×
Teacher ×
Sadist △ (negotiable)

...Should I tell Hatano the truth? Is it even the truth? I don't want him to suddenly cut his hair, since it'd probably set back his progress. That would only bring attention to their age gap. Ayato's older brother wouldn't be impressed by such an impulsive action. Eight years of searching and three years of waiting is already a heavy declaration.

A haircut wouldn't help. Appearances are superficial. After all, he's not swayed by Hatano's handsome face.

Setting aside his younger years where he ditched Ayato to chase after cats, he is a responsible person. He would definitely feel guilty for Hatano's sake. Otherwise, he would've rejected his streetside confession from the start.

I can't tell Hatano. His devotion to his sadist training is a little alarming. I hope he'll abandon that endeavor. Isn't it better to learn about Ayato's older brother firsthand?

Now Hatano wants to subtly gather information on Mayama and Minamoto. What a difficult task. We're high school students and shouldn't resort to stalking. Even though Ayato has unsuccessfully stalked his older brother several times. That's different. They're family. 

Also, Ayato is slightly cute when he's angry about his older brother. I don't really listen to his complaints—they tend to get repetitive after a while—but his expressions are lively.

Hatano is still talking.

I do agree that Ayato's older brother is uncommonly close with those friends of his. His smiles are smaller and more genuine. He playfully pokes at Mayama, and silently communicates with Minamoto through their eyes. They are clearly comfortable with each other. I can't say if it's anything romantic, but it's possible... 

Hatano recounted every detail of his chance encounters with Ayato's older brother. Though he is biased, I can't deny that he might be popular in his college, since he's sociable. 

Unlike me, Ayato is well-liked amongst our male classmates. They don't resent him or run away from him. It helps that he doesn't have to collect their incomplete homework and contraband items. Perhaps the two brothers' charisma is a family trait.

Chapter Text

It's sudden, but—

"Let's play the Pocky game!"

—this BL manga artist wants to play a chicken race with Minamoto and me. At least wait until I complete my sentence. 

What a melodramatic transition from a mundane day to wanton property destruction. Mellow umeshu for Minamoto, shochu for two. Hinges of the closet door barely cling to life. Mayama has broken walls and glasses by watching over bickering couples on campus. High force value has more cons than pros. 

Fictional physics have caused many headaches for our local psychic, and personally, I prefer to not think about non-existent academic papers about how amnesiacs recover without side effects. Love is the universal panacea. Loving love is the strength to move mountains and R18 doujinshi crates at Comiket. 

Is that a fudanshi thing, a family thing, or a Mayama Masumi thing? Next time I meet his little sister—similar encounter rate to Toujou walking Omochi—I'll ask for information.

An avalanche of limited-edition snacks have spilled on luxurious carpet. In comedy manga, this would be multiple panels for camera angles, no speech bubbles, but it's missing the correct sound effects. Ideally, it would be a tatami floor. Wood, for a satisfying clunk.

Pocky, Pepero, Pejoy. One to display, one to read, one to lend. Hopefully he doesn't arbitrarily apply these habits, but cookies that have expired for years are edible. I've eaten Ayato's cooking attempts pre-rebellious period. It can't be that bad. Back when I was on the reserve baseball team in high school, before I became aware of BL, I've played the Pocky game. 

The version where one person stands still, and the other swings a bat. I wasn't there when our homeroom teacher scolded them.

Well, I'm easily bribed, because Mayama spends money indiscriminately. Men, women, children, anyone, anywhere, anything that provides writing material. I don't feel burdened. Ignorance is bliss. Minamoto and I can travel by train and go to a love hotel to take pictures with him, so it's tame by comparison. He has cosplay, a sex toy museum, an Omega nest built from an Alpha's clothes, and body pillows suspended from the ceiling. I don't mind these games. 

"Air purifier and an eye mask. Premium sake and an out-of-print travelogue."

I look at the matching bags. Silver for Minamoto, white for me. The ribbon is beautiful enough to belong in my mom's bookmark collection. Though, Miiko might shred it into confetti.

In the fading November sunlight, Mayama's dark brown eyes are golden. 

"You were willing to be my assistants on Kiss Day, weren't you? All I want is pictures."

Sorry for doubting your pure intentions. Posing the nui plush dolls of Saruta Kimiya and Inuo Rintaro? No problem. 

"I've prepared a plate for Stage 1, Stage 2, and Stage 3. We'll start with 'love at first bite', 'meet me halfway', and finally, my favorite, 'too close!' Do you have any opinions on flavor?"

"No," Minamoto says.

"As long as you're fine with the final result," I say, with a subtle sense that they've skipped a few pages. 

"It'll be lemon and peach. Sliced lemons in honey are associated with athletes, and inside is a peach-flavored biscuit. Darker colors like matcha might be difficult to wash. I can't go with irregular ones like cookies and cream, because of discrepancies. Besides, Rintaro's a Kai Ken dog, not a Dalmatian. In case you were curious, Kimiya's a macaque and a closet pervert."

"I didn't need to know that about you, Mayama."

"You communicated that in his character design on the cover of Volume 1."

Popping open the Pocky Couple de Fruits, he pushes the pastel box across the table, as if playing poker.

"My muse and reader won't disappoint their dearest friend, right~? You should eat something sweet before you work."

Minamoto and I sigh.

Stage 1.

Since it's closer to Minamoto, he slides out a cookie like a cigarette, slipping it in his mouth. Simple tasks are different when a handsome man does them. 

Suddenly, he almost stabs me in the nostril. I step away, and he... 

""Are you okay?""

"Do I look okay to you?" asks the pitiful pile of injured pride. "Stop laughing and leave me alone."

"You always look good, it's in your DNA." Though I haven't seen a picture of Minamoto's parents, they must be good-looking. I turn towards Mayama. "Just break the Pocky. Last time I broke a bone, I borrowed a solar-powered suitcase, but I'd rather not be stuck in a cast."

"For Minamoto-kun's health and well-being, we have no choice but to cancel."

"Ugh." He gets up with a groan. "Today is important. I already agreed, so at least I can do this much for you... Let's get it over with."

"Because we've been bribed."

"Did you have to kill the moment? So many voices of the heart, yet you have no heart."

"What—Maa-kun—wants—Maa-kun—gets." Childhood nicknames are a reliable source of entertainment. "I'll listen to whatever you say, your home is our Internet café and cocktail bar."

"Don't run over roadkill, you don't need to make sure it's really dead." Mayama crouches down to clean up the crime scene with Minamoto. I don't move, because 3 men VS 1 cookie is more comical than helpful. 

11/11 hasn't been canceled.

Emulating my humble farmer ancestors, I hold a biscuit like a blade of grass, bouncing it back and forth. 

Both of us bite once. 

Gingerly, with plastic gloves, Mayama places the Pocky on the empty plate. "To avoid fingerprints."

I guess he's serious. Minamoto and I are a secondary motive in his pursuit of photography.

Stage 2.

This time, it's a chocolate-coated sword duel, Heian period AU, enemies to lovers, fought on a cliff, forced to depend on each other for survival.

I'm going to fall asleep. Mayama and Minamoto are having fun by themselves. Is this a history lesson? It's the beginning of another TTRPG with our drinking group. Yamazaki, Kakei, Touma, Ryouta, Masaya, Youji, Takimoto, Akihito. And Kouga, whose luck stat is the lowest.

The shochu is cold... the kotatsu is warm....

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

"Mmh?" I know this person, but don't know his name. "Where are your headphones?"

"So that's my identifying trait. What about that captivating statue with the chiseled jawline? Do you know him?"

"Train guy? Sorry, didn't recognize you without stomach pain." 

Then I remember where I am. Trapped in a rainbow fortress, I tepidly remove myself, to not ruin the foundation. I, this so-called sleeping beauty, swipe half-dried drool with the heel of my hand. 

What a mess. I wipe my wrist with a paper napkin.

"Mayama-sensei, Minamoto."

"About two hours," is the answer to the unspoken question.

"Then, let's have a productive Pocky Day." Take a sip of shochu to soothe my throat. "Did you build this tower with lemon and peach flavor? I don't see it on the table." 

"Indirect kiss!"

"Try to lie a little better." 

If it was Minamoto's cup, Mayama would be panting like he's run a marathon.

"Found it."

"If only you could find your way into his heart."

"According to you, I don't have one."

"Of course, you're a coward who cunningly uses excuses to hide from the light, carelessly breaking flags with men and women. Only one person can see through your lack of will. Minamoto-kun is your natural enemy."

"Not even the BL world is my enemy, Mayama-sensei, it's merely the world we live in."

"Where's your declaration of war?!"

"That's a lofty mindset of a protagonist loved by the mandatory force that powers plotlines. I wouldn't put myself in opposition with... Well, it would end happily."

Impatiently, Minamoto's eyebrows crease, and metallic packaging crinkles. "We're playing the Pocky game, not having an existential crisis." 

"No complaints here, I'm comfortable with my continued existence."

Unless I need to fake my death in a back alley of delinquents.

"What?"

Nothing. 

"You're so pretty~ Who's a pretty boy? Yes you are~ Prettiest in the world~~" 

After Mayama sensed my signal, he personally feeds Minamoto pink and yellow Pocky, protecting him from poisonous mushrooms. There aren't any heavy problems that would weigh down this genre. BL will be BL, humans will be humans, ghosts will be ghosts.

"Don't patronize me. I'm not pretty."

He blushes angrily, but obediently bends to accommodate their height difference. His alstroemeria flowers have the freckles of a friend. Or future lover, if they fall in that direction.

We eat until the halfway point.

Stage 3.

"As a fudanshi, I'm happy with your performance. As a friend, I have a handicap." 

Mayama's face is no longer a face. Childishly contorting like a cotton cat in a crowded crane machine, minus its cuteness. 

"Catch."

I catch it. 

"Don't shamelessly throw women's underwear like fucking flowers!" 

Immediately turning his head, Minamoto's acting as if he has traumatic experience. The troublesome attribute of the minority. TPO, tossed away for beauty.

On the verge of defeat, I helplessly drag a hand across my forehead. "What am I going to do with you, Sensei?"

"What would you do without me, hmm?"

"You have normal blindfolds. I'll borrow a necktie from your BL salarymen."

"Visibility will be lowered." Mayama might dig pitfalls, but he doesn't destroy all escape routes. 

I study how light filters through black lace. Like students studying for entrance exams, I tie it around my forehead, tugging it down. Blocking 60-70 percent of my eyesight.

"As an assistant, you should've filed for workplace injury," I tell Minamoto. "It's your fault."

"Your level of adaptability can't be called adaptable."

"If you want to stab me in the eye, you'll have to go through the blindfold."

"Why are you so paranoid?" Minamoto asks between Mayama's affectionate laughs. The main instigator's glasses are as crooked as his morals.  

"Look at your track record. Nearly shoved it up my nose like we're in ancient Egypt."

"Even if I did, you'll be fine because you have no brain."

"You wish." Life would be easier without that thing sloshing uselessly in my skull. "Maybe I should wrap myself with toilet paper like a mummy. Wonder if Miyoshi caught a cold at last year's Halloween party."

"Stop thinking about naked men, we need to pose Kimiya and Rintaro. I'm going to retweet my Kiss Day post." Mayama pokes his camera lens cap. 

By now, Minamoto is familiar with the motions. I follow his lead. This game isn't a magical sword duel that requires technique. 

It's simple: eat or die. 

Tilting my head, I touch the bridge of Minamoto's nose. He hasn't been moving for a while. Good. I blink against my blindfold, and bite again. His upper lip protrudes more than his lower lip. I'll stop here.

The Pocky falls on the plate, a little less than the width of a fingernail.

In a mirror of Mayama, Minamoto echoes in a monotone, "To avoid fingerprints." Ah, the more time people spend together, the more they tend to act alike. 

"Thank you for exceeding expectations! Let's do it again next year!"

"You didn't do jackshit." 

This is why our friends call Minamoto the civilized language ambassador. Unparalleled communication skills. 

"I provide for this household, don't I?"

"Yes, yes, the household of a single dad, your dog son, and your monkey son-in-law. Saddled with fatherhood at such a young age. So inspirational." 

BL fans favor uke over seme. In the gay community, it seems to be the opposite. Bottoms are more common than tops, or maybe men who identify as neko are more confident in their sexuality than tachi.

"Do you two want to roleplay as a lovey-dovey couple babysitting my children while I'm on a business trip?"

"If the price is right..." I start, but Minamoto shakes his head. "Too bad, he said no to capitalism."

Stage 4.

Took a lot of pictures of Saru and Inu in the Pocky tower.

In the morning, we woke up in a laundry heap of limbs, hungover as hell, unable to decipher the drawings of a Heian TTRPG.