Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kira Hiroto couldn’t stand him. There’s always a limit to everything, but that guy’s endless cheek crossed it in ways words couldn’t quite describe.

He’d kept it together during the Football Frontier International because professionalism had to come first - at least as much as he could manage - but now there was nothing stopping him from settling the score.
How dare that boy call himself a god in front of him, the God Striker ? His “there are many gods in Olympus” line was absolute bullshit.
There could be only one divinity on the playing field, and that was definitely him.

But since the other clearly didn’t get it, he had no choice but to challenge him outright.

— To see who really deserves to be called a ‘god’? — the golden-haired boy repeated just to confirm that he understood the argument well. 

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure where that sudden rivalry had come from, but he could sense that deep down, this might actually be fun.
His lips curved into a sly smile, ready to overcome every obstacle.

— I accept.

Hiroto smirked in return.

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— So? What does the challenge consist of?

— What do you mean ‘what does it consist of’? — he expressed his indignation. — It’ll be a soccer challenge, obviously! First to five goals wins. And then, I can finally be acclaimed in full right as the God Strik…

— Hmm, nah, it doesn’t convince me. Why don’t we try something different? — Terumi interrupted him. — Hiroto-kun, do you know who Aphrodite is?

The gray-haired boy gave him a weird look - not just because his speech had been cut off, but because he wasn’t sure where this was going. Still, he answered.

— Of course I know. She’s the goddess of beauty and love, right?

— Exactly! And my nickname is…?

— …. — Kira didn’t like where the conversation was heading. A bad feeling overwhelmed his body, giving him chills down his spine. — Aphrodi…

A mischievous smile tugged at Terumi’s lips. He had something in mind, and it couldn’t be anything good.

His whole attitude was typical of someone who always gets what he wants. Some might call him capricious, but it was pure ambition.

— So here’s my suggestion:… a date.

— A date? — a confused smirk formed on Hiroto’s face. What the hell did that have to do with proving anything? He just prayed it wasn’t going to get too weird.

— Yup! If I can make you blush three times during the date - as the god of love that I am - I win. But if you can make it to the end instead, it’s your win. Deal? — the other boy explained. His eyes sparkling with emotion.

— Well, I don’t know how appropriate this is for… — he tried to wriggle out of that apparently problematic situation, but was interrupted once more.

— What’s wrong? Are you perhaps afraid of losing? 

That was a fairly obvious and basic provocation, but did you think someone as proud as Kira Hiroto wouldn’t take it seriously?

— Eh? Of course not! I’m ready for anything, especially to win! You’d better get ready, because tomorrow I’ll come pick you up at your house at 10 a.m.! — he warned him, furious, and walked away at a fast but firm pace. He had taken it personally.

— Okay, but you don’t even know where I live… — and those words got lost in the wind.

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The next day, as agreed, the silver-haired boy stood in front of the blonde's house. As usual, he was dressed sharply - style was definitely not something he lacked. He’d rather die than wear something plain.

— I see you managed to find me. Good thing we exchanged phone numbers — Terumi said as he closed the gate behind him. It wasn’t meant to be rude, but Hiroto took it as a direct jab.

— Ha‑ha, very funny. Come on, let’s go —  he retorted sarcastically. 

Terumi raised an eyebrow, surprised, but decided to drop it.

— Aren’t you going to take my hand?

Hiroto almost choked on air.

— Why would I do that? — his confusion was genuine.

— Because it’s a date .

Kira shot him a look that said ‘’are you serious?’’ but then reconsidered. In the end, there wasn’t really anything wrong with it.

— Fine. But this won’t be enough to make me blush — he said, taking his hand while very carefully avoiding his ruby eyes.

— I never thought something so basic could make you blush, don’t worry.

Basic?! Walking hand-in-hand in public was basic? While he was struggling just to stay composed?!
That boy was a monster. How scary.

— So? Where are you taking me? — the other asked, casual as ever.

— I was thinking about… the aquarium — he replied with some embarrassment. 

He could pretend to be indifferent all he wanted, but it was a fact that he cared about the opinion of the person at his side. The fear that the other might not like his proposal was nibbling at his stomach in a slow but steady way.
As a child, he had the bad habit of seeking others' approval just to get a little attention. Over time, he'd changed - become a bit of a cynic - but it seemed the roots were still intact. At least for a select few.

— Sounds nice. And after the aquarium, ice cream! — Terumi said and gave him a more-than-charming smile.

Hiroto felt a wave of relief wash over him at those words. That smile, though - it brought a warm, pleasant feeling that crept into the darkest corners of his being and snuck its way right into his heart.

He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it resembled a pleasant warmth. He could even get used to it.

— You’re all red. That’s one point for me, you’ve got two left —  Terumi noted without changing expression.

— What?! — Hiroto instinctively raised a hand to his cheek.

It was hot.
How was that even possible? Just one smile had done this to him? And the guy knew what he was doing.
That boy was a devil.
And he was an idiot for letting his guard down.

He clenched his fists, filled with anger, frustration... and shame.

— Aw, now you’re just adorable — Terumi added, and it surely didn’t help at all.

— Shut your mouth! This is nothing. You’ll see that I’ll make it until the end — he renewed his determination and took his hand in a somewhat rough manner, almost starting to drag him towards their destination.

Afuro thought he looked cute like that too.

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The aquarium was impressive. It wasn’t the first time for either of them, and yet when they stepped inside, they were stunned by the colorful scenery that unfolded before them. The sheer variety of fish - species they couldn’t even name - was astounding. Watching them dance in unison made it feel like a fairytale.

Their visit was calm and enjoyable. They paused to watch the fish, took some pictures, and allowed themselves a brief moment of childlike wonder. Hiroto, at times, tried to pull his hand away from Terumi’s, embarrassed to be seen like that in public, but always failed. The blonde was relentless - it was a date, after all.

— Look, Hiroto‑kun, that one looks like you — he smiled and pointed to a lionfish with white and black stripes, which were actually so light as to seem gray.

— Let me guess: because it seems so cocky? Or because it matches my hair color? Or maybe it’s the fin arrangement that resembles my magnificent hairstyle? — Hiroto asked, relatively calm. He had gotten used to Terumi’s “teasing.”

— Well, that too. But I was talking about its grumpy expression.

Hiroto sighed with resignation. In normal circumstances, he would’ve protested, but when his gaze met Terumi’s - devoid of any malice - he just couldn’t get angry.

— But now that you mention your hair... I want to try something — he added, stepping closer with a slow but confident stride.

A mental alarm went off in Hiroto’s head, but he didn’t back away. He watched as Terumi approached, stopping just five centimeters from his face. Those gemstone-like sparkling eyes seemed to pierce his soul, and with that mischievous smile and the barely-there distance, he imagined the worst.

He didn’t know how to feel about it.

Suddenly, he felt something rest on his head - Afuro’s gentle hand stroking his curly hair.

— May I know what you are doing? — he asked, completely confused.

— I just wanted to see what it felt like. That’s all.

“That’s all, he says,” Hiroto thought, disturbed by how everything seemed to be “that’s all” for him.

— So? How is it? — even he didn’t know why he asked. Something about that graceful, tender touch made him act weirdly.

— Very soft. Just like I imagined.

And somehow, that answer was deeply satisfying.

— Oh, and you’re blushing again. Only one chance left.

— Eh?! 

He turned to catch his reflection in one of the fish tanks, and yep - it was true: the blush was back.

No, no, this guy was the devil.

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They decided to wrap up the date with the famous ice cream Terumi had suggested. More than a cliché, it was a classic. You couldn’t go wrong with ice cream.

— Didn’t know you had such... exotic tastes — Hiroto commented, eyeing Terumi’s pomegranate, mango, and lemon combo. The colors were vibrant, but honestly, he couldn’t imagine those flavors blending well.

— My tastes aren’t exotic, yours are just too plain and boring. I was shocked when you said you only wanted chocolate and vanilla.

He always had a comeback ready, Hiroto thought. But in the depths of his heart, he admitted he liked it more that way. It was electrifying to find someone who knew how to keep up with him. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fun.

— Listen, why did you want this whole ‘rendez-vous’? There were a thousand other ways we could’ve challenged each other, but you chose this — he asked at a certain point, no longer able to ignore the doubt that tickled his mind. Terumi had described it as the most logical thing in the world, but to Hiroto it still didn’t make sense. He was sure there was something else behind.

— You’re asking why?... Hmm... — Terumi brought a hand to his chin, looking up thoughtfully. His golden hair danced in the wind, and for some reason, Hiroto couldn’t take his eyes off his figure.

Ah, there it was again - the pleasant and confusing feeling. Hiroto wasn’t able to decipher it; maybe he should just ask Tatsuya, once he got home. He was more knowledgeable about this kind of stuff anyway.

— Because I like you, I guess — Terumi said in that soft voice, pulling Hiroto out of his thoughts. The boy blinked several times in a row, unsure if he’d heard right.

— Excuse me, what ? — his voice betrayed his shock. But what it didn’t betray... was the quiet hope that those words were true.

The blonde didn’t answer; he just chuckled, amused. Then he leaned forward and wiped the small remains of chocolate from the corner of Hiroto’s mouth.
The boy with pink eyes felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

— I won —  declared the god of love, and Hiroto didn’t even feel the need to confirm it; he knew full well that he was right.

He had fallen for it through and through, and there was nothing more to add.

— How sneaky of you, lying just to win — he said, like it didn’t concern him. 

Like he hadn’t just had his feelings played with.

— I didn’t lie to anyone —  Terumi replied with a proud smile. Then he stood, approached him, and planted a kiss - light as a feather - on Hiroto’s right cheek. — If you want a rematch, I’m always up for it.

And for the first time in his life... Hiroto was glad he’d lost.

Chapter Text

There are times when Shirou finds himself trapped inside strange dreams - or rather, it's better to call them nightmares.

Before his eyes stretches an endless expanse of pure white. The snow looks beautiful, yet the way the light reflects off it gives a sense of calm and indifference that borders on cruel. The vastness of the place only emphasizes how truly empty it is. The only sound is the howling of the wind.

The temperature is so low that his breath is visible, floating in front of him in small, semi-transparent clouds - but he doesn’t feel the cold. That’s because his brother is there to warm him, holding his hand tightly; the strength of his grip makes it clear that he’d never let go.

They walk through the snow, hand in hand. Their boots sink heavily into the unstable layer beneath them, making a soft, muffled crunch. The icy wind cuts against their pale faces.

— Atsuya, where are we going? — he asks, since they’ve been walking for a while now, and he still has no idea where to.

— No idea — his brother replies, with a strangely carefree smile.

Shirou stops walking, and that forces the other to stop too.

— What do you mean, you don’t know? Atsuya, where are we? — the anxiety in his voice is clear, but his little brother still wears that peaceful expression. And he doesn’t answer. The contrast makes Shirou’s blood run cold. He has a very bad feeling.

— Maybe it’s better if you stay here — Atsuya says all of a sudden, and lets go of his hand. Shirou feels like his soul has been torn in half. He tries to grab hold of even just a finger - but he can’t. Atsuya has already turned away and keeps walking forward, while for some reason Shirou can’t move a single muscle to go after him. A knot in his throat keeps him from calling out his name. The frustration and helplessness sting at his eyes.

Eventually, when Atsuya’s figure is no bigger than the size of his palm, he stops and turns back. A gentle, compassionate smile softens his face. So unusual for him.

Shirou panics. He doesn’t like this vision one bit, but just as he tries again to act, the most terrible sound he’s ever heard echoes in his ears. A block of snow has broken loose from the mountaintop and is now crashing down, massive and unstoppable, toward his brother.

Atsuya doesn’t move an inch. Shirou doesn’t move an inch. He watches, frozen, as the white jaws of the avalanche mercilessly devour the person he loves most in the world.

The only thing left behind is the memory of his final smile... and his scarf, which, as if by magic, ends up in Shirou’s hand.

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Shirou jolts awake, shaken. His whole body is covered in cold sweat, his breathing ragged and uneven, his eyes wide with horror, and his heart on the verge of bursting.

He doesn’t even take time to steady himself. He gets up at once and stumbles toward his little brother’s bed. There he is, sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath - and finally, Shirou calms down. He’s there. He’s alive.

After a brief moment of overwhelming relief, he buries his face in his hands and stifles a scream of anger and pain. He drops to his knees and rests his head against the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t understand. Who could be cruel enough to make him dream of his brother’s death again? Why does his body shudder so violently every time he hears thunder during storms? Why does his heart skip a beat whenever someone mentions an avalanche? Why does it feel like Atsuya being here with him is some kind of miracle?

He wants all of this to stop. He refuses to believe there could be even one universe where he has to live without Atsuya. It’s ridiculous. Impossible. Just the thought of it takes his breath away.

— Aniki, what are you doing here? — hearing his sleepy voice makes Shirou raise his head. Their eyes meet - still heavy with sleep, but with a flicker of concern.

— Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you — he rushes to apologize. These problems are his alone. He shouldn’t burden Atsuya with irrational fears.

— You didn’t answer my question — the demanding tone never fails; his classic nosy little brother.

Now Shirou has to think. He doesn’t want to worry him, but he also knows that if he lies, Atsuya will call him out immediately.

— I had a bad dream. That’s all — he tries to play it down with a reassuring smile, but he has a feeling it comes out more like a grimace. Atsuya sighs.

— What are you, five years old? — he grumbles, then grabs the blanket and lifts it. — Come on, get in.

It’s not even an invitation. It’s a command. Shirou’s expression softens as he slips into his brother’s bed, ending up face to face with him. They’d stopped sleeping in the same bed years ago, but sometimes, they allowed themselves to be those little boys again: the ones who could only fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

— What did you dream about? — Atsuya asks, curious. Shirou bites his lip at the memory.

— I don’t want to tell you — he says firmly. Atsuya raises an eyebrow, intrigued. His big brother refusing to open up to him? That’s new.

— Mysterious doesn’t suit you. Spill it.

And not just with words - his gaze adds the pressure, and it works. It always works on him.

— Alright... — Shirou breaks eye contact and hesitantly starts telling him everything, leaving out the part about how it’s not the first time he’s had a dream like that.

When he finishes, he turns back to look at him. He expects him to be shaken, maybe terrified, or even disgusted. But Atsuya’s expression doesn’t change one bit. If he’s disturbed, he’s not showing it.

— What a dumb dream — he says, sighing again. Shirou is about to get annoyed by the lack of empathy, but Atsuya reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers, just like they used to do as kids. — Trust me, I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’ll follow you all the way to Hell if I have to. So sleep easy and stop thinking about that crap.

With that, he closes his eyes, ready to drift off again. Shirou watches him, stunned. He can’t help the small smile that curls on his lips. Maybe those words aren’t enough to stop the dreams or the bad feelings forever, but for now, while their hands are locked together like some unbreakable bond, he feels calm. Peaceful.

If anything ever happens to Atsuya, he’ll be there - ready to protect him.

Chapter Text

Kidou Yuuto has always been a diligent, kind, and - above all - respectful boy. That’s how he was raised, which is why he can’t bring himself to tolerate the new student at their prestigious school: Fudou Akio, the most rebellious and indifferent student he’s ever encountered in his short life.

Despite his high grades earning him a scholarship, his brusque manner of speaking, awkward and graceless way of sitting, brazen habit of falling asleep in the middle of class, and scowling at anyone who spoke to him… Yuuto can’t understand it. But he also realizes that forming any kind of bond with someone like that will surely lead him down the wrong path, so he decides the best thing is to just ignore him. It’s not difficult - after all, they have absolutely nothing in common.

With these thoughts in mind, he heads to the library. Today they have a day off from training, so he can indulge in one of his favorite hobbies: reading. Yuuto loves losing himself in that whirlpool of beautiful words and reflections that books provide. He adores lingering over every detail, speculating why the author chose one expression instead of another. He’s fascinated by how he can immerse his mind in the story and experience it as if he were the protagonist himself. In short, he loves literature.

When he arrives, he greets the lady at the counter, who by now recognizes him from his frequent visits, then walks toward the shelves. He doesn’t have a specific book in mind, so today he lets inspiration guide him. His fingers glide across titles and covers until they stop on a particular text: The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. He’s heard good things about it, so he decides to give it a chance. He takes it and sits at the closest available table, paying no attention to the people around him.

A grave mistake - after reading about twenty pages, he almost has a heart attack when he looks up and sees Fudou Akio sitting just two tables away from him. The library was officially the last place he expected to find him; well, the second to last (the last would be his house, and he didn’t even want to imagine how strange it would be to run into him there for no reason).

However, the real question is: what is Fudou doing in such a sacred place? Yuuto’s mind immediately spins out a series of possible conspiracies when his eyes land on the item the crested-boy is holding. It’s a book by William Hazlitt, The Ignorance of the Learned . Next to him is another stack of titles belonging to authors like Osamu Dazai, Ichiyō Higuchi, Emily Brontë, and Peter Cameron.

Yuuto doesn’t know what to think, utterly incredulous. The serene expression with which he reads, the natural way he turns the pages, the posture he holds the book in - all make Yuuto realize that Fudou is a veteran reader, and one with taste.

He continues watching him, puzzled, until he remembers it’s impolite to stare so openly, so he turns his eyes back to his own book. But his thoughts remain fixed on Fudou. He is torn by conflicting emotions. Five minutes ago he thought the boy was a problematic delinquent; now he knows that he loves books too. And according to Yuuto’s philosophy, someone who appreciates literature cannot be outright bad. Maybe just a bit complicated.

He steals glances with the corner of his eye. He seems like a completely different person. So calm. So peaceful. So lonely and melancholic.

He’s curious. He needs to investigate more.

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The next day, after training, Yuuto returns to the library. He has no guarantee he will find the other boy there, but he has no choice but to try. Fortune is on his side - after a bit of visual scouting, he confirms that Fudou is sitting in the exact same seat as yesterday. Maybe it’s his favorite spot.

This time Kidou sits at the adjacent table. It’s a risky move - he knows it - but he must make it if he wants to observe him more closely. He hides behind the pages of a volume and spies on him - no, forgive me, analyzes him as best he can. In fact, the boy behaves exactly the same as the day before, yet the famous "strategist" can sense he’s more tense. He wonders what could have caused this change, only to jump at the sharp sound Fudou makes when he closes the book with one hand.

Then he turns his emerald-green, icy eyes toward him. He doesn’t look very amused by the situation.

— Yesterday I was nice enough to pretend I didn’t notice, but would you mind telling me why you’re staring at me so much?

Perfect - caught red-handed. Not that he’d used the utmost discretion, but deep down he hoped he wouldn’t notice. And it was in vain.

— Nothing, I’m just surprised that someone like you likes reading — he says, and by the time he realizes how offensive it sounded, it’s already too late.

Fudou’s features shift into a different expression indeed. The smirk on his face oozes mockery and self-assurance, maybe even indifference, but for some reason Yuuto can’t help thinking it’s an automatic defensive mechanism, useful in any problematic situation.

— “Someone like me” — he repeats mockingly. — Yes, excuse me so much, Your Highness, for surprising you like that. I know the most you expected from me was doing drugs at nightclubs and beating people up in the street, but it so happens that even an idiot like me has found a way to spend his time in peace. But hey, if you want, I can leave!

His acidic tone makes Yuuto feel his stomach tighten and shrink, while his throat goes dry. The worst part is that - for a split second - he really had thought those things the first time he saw him. He regretted it immediately, and even more so now. And although he wants to sink into the ground from shame, there’s one thing he absolutely has to do.

— Forgive me, I didn’t mean to offend you but you’re right, I was rude. I apologize for everything — he says, and Fudou furrows his brow with severity, but says nothing. He reopens his book and acts as if the other doesn’t exist.

Yuuto waits patiently for about ten minutes, wrapped in awkward silence, before deciding it’s safe to speak again.

— Are you still mad?

Fudou arches an eyebrow and looks at him as if he were an alien, not a person. He probably hoped Yuuto wouldn’t speak to him again.

— No — the bitter, annoyed tone says otherwise.

— You’re still mad — he states and sighs, dejected. — What can I do to make it up to you?

The other boy tilts his head back with an exaggerated, theatrical expression.

— Maybe leave me alone? — he asks. Kidou ignores the sarcasm completely.

— I don’t like having unfinished business with anyone. If I offended you, it’s only fair that I make it right somehow.

He rests his chin on his hand, thinking. When he seems illuminated by an idea, he stands up murmuring “I’ll be right back” and leaves the library under the other’s skeptical gaze.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a juice box on the table in front of him - clearly grabbed in a hurry from the nearby vending machines.

— So, the only way you think you can fix this is by buying my forgiveness?

— I wouldn’t call it ‘’buying’’. It barely cost me a hundred yen.

— Sure, the rich and their twisted perception of money — he lets out another sigh. — Fine, I accept it only because it’s banana‑flavored. Though I’m surprised you got my favorite right on the first try.

He takes it and places the straw in the designated slot of the carton.

— I didn’t guess. I just noticed that’s the only one you drink at break time — he replies as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Fudou stops and stares at him with wide-open eyes. The straw suspended halfway to his mouth.

— You… scare me — and coming from him, it’s quite the statement.

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In the days that follow, Yuuto continues trying to strike up a conversation with that peculiar boy. One reason is that he wants to show how truly sorry he is; another is that Fudou has genuinely captured his attention. He’s an interesting person. And who knows, maybe he’s finally found someone he can discuss literature with.

And, although at first Akio responds in a somewhat coarse and uninterested way, gradually his barriers give way and turn to jelly. Thus, he allows himself to converse like a normal person. As if the two of them were friends.

— Why do you like reading?—he asks one day, out of the blue.

Fudou shifts his gaze away, unsure whether to offer a sincere answer or whip up a plausible excuse on the spot.

— Because, when I read, I can ignore everyday problems — he chose the first option. A heartbreaking truth.

In moments like these, Yuuto manages to glimpse the small fragments that make up the dark-haired one's soul. Yes, small fragments , because he realizes with dismay that his soul is anything but intact. It’s broken. It’s devastated. It’s held together only by pride and a fierce survival instinct.

The reason behind his behavior emerges crystal clear: he’s simply trying to protect himself from the world. Just like a stray cat that refuses anyone’s hand, regardless of their intentions.

— Hey, Fudou, want to join the soccer team? —  Yuuto suggests, hands neatly clasped under his chin.

— Why should I? — he retorts, disinterested.

— Because it’ll let you ''ignore everyday problems'' … and maybe even make some new friends.

Akio twists his mouth in a grimace and mutters a weak “I don’t need friends.”

And yet, a week later, there he is, ready to try out for the team. And he does well, actually. Yuuto learns that he’s been kicking a ball around for fun since he was little. The red-eyed boy feels a twinge of pride watching him pass the test. Strange, since that feeling was usually reserved only for himself and his sister.

That day they decide to walk home together.

— You know, I didn’t do it because you asked me to — he says, looking away and hiding his hands in his pants pockets. A deliberate effort to seem detached and indifferent, but Yuuto knows him too well by now. 

— Sure, sure. Anyway, have you ever read The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Achor? If not, you should — there’s a moment of hesitation before he continues. — …So we can discuss it together.

Fudou gives him a sidelong glance. The Happiness Advantage … was that a hint? Or does he genuinely just think it’s a good book? He has no idea, and the only way to find out would be to read it himself. Damn. A trap from the very start.

— Oh boy, looks like I’ll have to check it out — he declares to the air, and a rare smile graces his face; small but sincere.

Yuuto can’t help smiling back.
The boy walking beside him has never told him anything about his life, and Yuuto doesn’t know if he ever will. So he can’t think of a way to help him in any truly meaningful sense. But he can be his friend.
And he can distract him from his “everyday problems.”

Chapter Text

That day could only be described as “a disaster.”
He had argued with his parents because, once again, he insisted he didn’t want to pursue a career in law; he had forgotten to grab his paper off the desk and the teacher told him his grade would go down because “no one could be that irresponsible”; he had gotten punched in the face by the school bully because “he was looking at him the wrong way”; and, to top it all off, he missed the bus and now had to wait an hour, since he lived in a tiny, godforsaken corner of the world where buses passed every two hours.

Fantastic. The beauty of being alive.

He sat down on the edge of the sidewalk - because what was the point of sitting on a bench, really? - wondering what else could possibly go wrong. And, of course, because the universe clearly hated him, he felt droplets of water land on his green head, sliding down his nose and cheeks: it was starting to drizzle.

He wanted to die. And the more his brow furrowed, the harder the rain seemed to fall, as if it were directly proportional to his mood.

In that moment, Midorikawa Ryuuji hated the entire world.
He didn’t go looking for shelter. He let the rain soak him from head to toe, hoping it would wash away his misery along with it. A rather fragile hope, as it didn’t seem to be working at all.

The wind blew, and Ryuuji began to feel shivers running through his body - small electric jolts he couldn’t stop. But he didn’t care; or at least, he wanted to pretend he didn’t care. Pretend that the body suffering all this misfortune wasn’t his.
Or maybe he wanted to think of it as some kind of penance, and once it was over, he could carry on with his life in peace.

The truth was, he was cold. And the sensation of his thin shirt sticking to his skin was unpleasant. The only comfort was that the cold was numbing the sting that still burned on his cheek. He closed his eyes and decided to focus only on the sound of the raindrops hitting the asphalt. Maybe he didn’t enjoy being soaked, but he did like the sound of the rain. It was calming. Comforting. He felt the tension slowly melt from his muscles.

He continued listening, until he noticed something strange. The sound of the rain persisted, but he no longer felt it on his body. Had he lost sensation from the cold? That seemed a little too quick. He opened his eyes and looked up. Instead of a sad gray sky, he was met with a dark fabric that swallowed his view: an umbrella. But what was it doing above his head? He turned slightly and saw the profile of the one holding it: a boy with fiery red hair and jade-green eyes.

The boy wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t smiling, wasn’t saying anything. He simply crouched next to him, holding the umbrella over Ryuuji’s head.
Ryuuji tried to recall: did he already know this guy? He noticed they wore the same school uniform, so they must go to the same school, but… if he’d seen such a vivid red before, wouldn’t he at least have some feeling of déjà vu? Yet he felt nothing. Nothing at all - so no, he didn’t know him. They were complete strangers.

Then why was this total stranger shielding him from the cruelty of the rain? Honestly, at that moment, he wasn’t in the mood to care about his reasons. If the guy wanted to do it, he wouldn’t stop him. And if he didn’t want to explain himself - not even say a word - he wouldn’t ask.
So they just sat there, in silence, without looking at each other, for about twenty minutes.

It was a strange experience, really. For Ryuuji, right then when he hated the entire world, the red-haired boy turned out to be the least annoying person. And he didn’t even know his name - the irony of life.
He was almost reconsidering saying something to him when, in the distance, he saw a bus approaching; not his, but apparently the other boy’s, because he stood up.

Ryuuji thought he’d go back to freezing under the rain, but the redhead took his hand and placed the umbrella handle into it. He didn’t say anything, but he smiled. A small and equally gentle smile.

Ryuuji stared at him, almost spellbound, and the only thing he managed to say before the other boarded the bus was a faint “thank you.”
That boy was the only good thing that happened to him that day.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

He thought he’d never see him again. He really believed that. And yet, he kept carrying that umbrella around. What was the point? They went to the same school, but he hadn’t even tried to look for him. After all, the boy was just someone he’d bumped into by chance; he felt no urge to form any kind of bond with him, and could’ve gone on with his life never seeing him again…
And still, he kept carrying that umbrella.
It made no sense at all.

One day, with expectations no different from the others, he saw him.
He saw him sitting on a bench in the school courtyard, an open book in his hand, the sunlight making his flaming hair shine. His natural element: absolute tranquility.
He didn’t even notice when he began walking toward him; he was just doing it, as if by inertia. He stopped abruptly, wondering what exactly he was doing.
Oh right - returning the umbrella. He started walking again.

When only a couple of meters remained between them, he slowed his pace, then stopped completely. He stared at him for a few seconds, then cleared his throat on purpose to get his attention. The boy turned toward him, wearing the same calm, unchanging smile.

Ryuuji rummaged through his bag, pulled out the umbrella, and held it out.

— Thanks for the other day. But I wanted to ask… why did you do it? Wasn’t it weird to share your umbrella with a stranger? — he asked. He wanted to know.

The boy reached out and took back his possession.

— No, it wasn’t weird. I did it just because there was room for two under my umbrella. That’s all — he said, and turned his attention back to his book.

Ryuuji was stunned. That’s all?
Yes, that was the only reason the boy had sheltered him from the rain. Nothing more, nothing less.

He burst out laughing. In that exact instant, he decided he liked the guy.
He decided he wanted to get to know him better.

— Hey… what’s your name?

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

They started seeing each other regularly and hanging out.
They got along well enough: both had calm personalities and weren’t the type to do anything reckless.

On one of their early outings, after a few hours of fun, they decided to grab some takoyaki from a street vendor as a snack. The smell and appearance alone were enough to make their mouths water, and Ryuuji couldn’t wait to try them. But in a moment of clumsiness, he dropped one to the ground. The egg-and-octopus ball smashed dramatically against the asphalt, and Ryuuji was disheartened - it was a waste of food, and now he only had three-fourths of his portion left.

But before his disappointment could settle in, he saw another takoyaki ball placed in the departed one’s spot. He looked up and met Hiroto’s calm smile.
He’d given him his own without even thinking twice. And he hadn’t even scolded him with a “be more careful next time, okay?”.

Ryuuji felt a bit of warmth spread across his cheeks and chest.
Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like Hiroto. Just a little.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

He still remembered that time a boy had confessed his feelings to him through a poem he’d written himself.
In those verses, he praised his beauty, his smile, his attitude, his kindness - you name it.
At the time, it felt romantic, and Ryuuji agreed to go out with him.

He often professed his love aloud and sometimes even gave him gifts. But Ryuuji eventually realized, with some regret, that these gestures didn’t make up for the fact that he never let him go first through doors, never asked how his day was, never wondered if he preferred sitting by the window on the bus.
He wasn’t a bad guy; he just didn’t have the qualities Ryuuji was looking for in a partner. They broke up after barely two weeks.

Hiroto was different.
Even when he finally confessed his love, he did it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He hadn’t written a poem. He didn’t give random gifts. He didn’t say “I love you” a hundred times a day.
And yet, he always showed he cared.

He walked him home. He shared his lunch and his umbrella on rainy days. He’d steal a quick kiss when Ryuuji was feeling down. He listened whenever Ryuuji needed to be heard.
And for Ryuuji, that was more than enough.

He didn’t need a Prince Charming.
He just wanted someone who understood him, who paid attention to the little things that seemed insignificant.

— What do you like most about me? — he asked one day, almost teasingly.

— That you can put up with me talking about books for hours on end — came the instant reply.

It made him smile, because he realized he and Hiroto were more alike than he’d thought.

In the end, he had to correct himself: no Prince Charming could ever measure up to his Hiroto. No doubt about it.

Chapter Text

December 22nd - the day Fubuki Shirou was welcomed into this world.
A special day, in particular for Gouenji, who has been planning everything for over a week to make sure it turns out perfect. After all, it’s his boyfriend’s birthday - his seventeenth, to be precise - and of course he deserves at least a surprise party. Fubuki likes small celebrations with close friends, so Gouenji is confident it will be a pleasant surprise. He can’t wait to witness the moment those lips curve upward in pure joy.

But before the party comes the private birthday wishes… and the gift. A present he has picked out effortlessly - though that doesn’t mean it’s uninspired.

— Happy birthday, Shirou — he says, sitting next to him on the couch, pulling the gift from behind his back and placing it gently into his hands.

For a moment, Fubuki just stares, lost in his own astonishment.

— Huh? Oh… You remembered — he says, smiling, although there is a trace of hesitation in his voice. — Thank you, but… you didn’t have to. — He turns the gift over in his hands like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

— Is something wrong? You don’t like it? — Gouenji can’t help asking. His reaction has triggered a wave of anxiety.

The albino’s eyes widen in alarm.

— No, of course I like it! — he blurts, even before opening the package. He leans forward, cups Gouenji’s face, and plants a flurry of kisses on his lips. — Thank you. Really. It’s just that… it’s been years since I’ve actually celebrated my birthday, so you kind of caught me off guard. — He smiles sheepishly and finally starts unwrapping the present with care.

The moment he sees what’s inside - the bracelet he once admired in a store, with a snowflake and a sun charm hanging from the chain - his eyes light up for a moment.

Gouenji watches him and feels a wave of relief. So it’s just embarrassment, thank god. He can’t wait to see the look on his face when he finds out about the party they’re throwing just for him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Aside from the planning, Gouenji has another important mission: keep Fubuki out and distracted while the others sneak into his house (Kidou has the spare key) to set up decorations, and pick up the cake - a task left to the ever-responsible Kazemaru. And because this job is so important, he pours all of his energy into it. He’s not just distracting Fubuki - he’s trying to make him laugh, in order to hear that lighthearted, carefree laugh he loves so much.

— You’re being more attentive and sweet than usual today. It’s not just because it’s my birthday, is it? — Fubuki teases, looking at him over his shoulder.

— I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m always attentive and sweet — Gouenji replies, giving him a playful flick on the nose.

Fubuki flinches instinctively, but chuckles right after.

— Ah-ha, you’re right, sorry. What was I thinking, doubting you like that? I must be crazy — he says, amused, picking up the pace toward the other’s house. It’s been a lovely day, yes, but now he just wants to lie down and not move an inch. — Anyway, about my birthday… don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s not that special to me… — He twists a lock of hair between his fingers, and Gouenji knows that gesture all too well. It means he isn’t being entirely honest. But why? Why lie about something like this?

— Playing modest doesn’t work on me — Gouenji warns teasingly as he opens the front gate - they’ve arrived.

— Huh? I didn’t mean to… Never mind — Fubuki mutters, following him to the door.

Gouenji glances at him, puzzled. What’s with this cryptic mood? Fubuki is usually so open with him. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but there isn’t time for a deep conversation. That will have to come later.

He slides the key into the lock and opens the door, letting Fubuki in first. Once inside, they take off their shoes. Gouenji grabs his boyfriend’s hand.

— Come with me for a second — he says, tugging him gently down the hallway.

— So urgent you won’t even turn the lights on? — Fubuki quips, oblivious to the setup.

— Just give me a sec — Gouenji guides him to the living room in the dark. Then he flicks the switch.

— SURPRISE! — echoes through the room as the lights come on, revealing Endou and Kazemaru holding a “Happy Birthday” banner, Kidou holding a cake, and Fudou standing nearby with crossed arms; Tsunami, the soul of the party, and Someoka; and finally, Hiroto and Midorikawa. Balloons and confetti scatter across the floor. — Happy Birthday, Fubuki! — they all shout in unison.

Fubuki freezes. For a split second, he looks not just surprised, but almost terrified. Then he masks it with a smile. A forced one, Gouenji notices, his heart sinking a little.

— Thank you all so much — Fubuki says, going around to thank and hug everyone. — Whose idea was this?

— Take a guess — Kidou replies rhetorically, his gaze drifting to the only blond in the room.

— Shuuya… I shouldn’t have even doubted — Fubuki walks over and wraps his arms around Gouenji’s neck. — Thank you again, my love. — It sounds sincere, but there’s a subtle sadness in his tone that Gouenji can’t quite ignore.

— You’re welcome… — He’ll have to ask him about that later.

— Oi, you two can be lovey-dovey later! It’s party time! — Midorikawa chimes in, more excited than anyone. He loves birthday parties.

— Alright, alright — Fubuki laughs, reluctantly letting go of his boyfriend.

They spend the evening eating, playing games, dancing, and of course, joking around. Fubuki seems to enjoy himself, although there’s a hesitation to his joy that Gouenji can’t explain. Something is holding him back. It’s starting to worry him.

— Okay, I think it’s time for the cake. What do you guys think? — Kazemaru asks, and everyone cheers, except for the white-haired boy, who looks away.

— Come on, Fubuki, this is your big moment! — Tsunami grabs his hand and drags him into the kitchen, planting him firmly at the head of the table. Hiroto places the cake in front of him, Midorikawa arranges the candles. Fudou pulls a lighter from his pocket (no one knows why he even has one, considering he doesn’t smoke) and lights every candle.

Faced with all that attention, Fubuki just chuckles with a rather strained expression.

— Alright, the birthday song! — Endou takes the lead. — On three. One, two, three… Happy birthday to you… — Everyone sings, except Fudou, finishing with an enthusiastic round of applause. — Now make a wish and blow them out! Make it a big one! — Endou encourages.

But Fubuki doesn’t move. His eyes are fixed on the tiny flames above the cake; he doesn’t speak, doesn’t even seem to breathe. When Gouenji is about to call his name, concerned, the boy suddenly stands up, slamming his hands on the table.

— This… is too much… I-I can’t… — His voice trembles. Hair falling over his bowed head, teeth clenched, he bolts from the room, pushing past everyone and running straight for the door.

Everyone stands in stunned silence, mouths agape, not knowing what to do.

— I’ll go — Gouenji says quickly and rushes after him.

When he opens the door, he winces as the cold hits him like a slap.

Snow is falling.

He considers running back for his jacket, but pushes the thought aside. Fubuki matters more than the weather, more than a coat, more than the cold he’ll probably get afterward.

He spots him a few meters away and catches up quickly.

— Can you tell me what’s going on? — he asks, worried, and stops short when Fubuki turns to him, face twisted with anger and… — Shirou, are you… crying?

Hot tears streak down the boy’s pale cheeks, though he doesn’t seem to care.

— Why did you have to organize all of this? Did I ever ask for it?! — he counter-questions, trembling from a mix of emotion, fury, and maybe the cold.

— I… I just wanted…

But the words catch in Gouenji’s throat. He only wanted to make him happy on his special day; he never imagined this outcome. Still, he lowers his gaze in guilt. He made Fubuki cry. What a boyfriend he is.

— I’m sorry — he whispers, and that alone seems to help Fubuki calm down a bit. He bites his lip, ashamed.

He hides his face in his hands, then sweeps his bangs back, breathing slow. Careful.

— No, Shuuya, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You couldn’t have known — he says, stepping closer and taking his hand, eyes lingering on it.

— Known what? — Gouenji asks gently, not wanting to upset him again. He squeezes his hand tighter.

— That I don’t like celebrating my birthday — Fubuki admits, still avoiding eye contact.

— Can I ask why? — Gouenji reaches up and wipes the tear tracks from his face, then cups his cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb.

— Because it’s not fair.
Though Fubuki sounds firm, Gouenji looks at him, puzzled, not understanding what he means.

Fubuki sighs, resigned to unraveling his thoughts and turning them into sentences that actually make sense.

— You remember I had a twin brother, right?

The blond nods, already putting the pieces together, feeling a growing pressure in his chest.

— Every year, the night before, we’d sleep in the same bed, so we could wake up together — Fubuki begins. Though those are happy memories, he can’t even muster a smile. — We’d wake our parents up and we’d get their wishes together. Our presents, together. The song, the cake, the candles, the wishes… all of it. Together. — He pauses, swallowing down the next wave of tears. — Shuuya, I know you want me to move forward, to not let the past control me, but this… this is one thing I can’t let go of. I can’t stand blowing out those candles without him.

He leans against Gouenji, and Gouenji holds him close, arms wrapped tightly around him, supporting him like he always has and always will.

— Shuuya, when I think about the fact that he didn’t get to grow up, to experience the world, to fall in love, and I do… it suffocates me… — He clings to him. The tears have won, and Fubuki doesn’t fight them anymore. — I wanted to share everything with him. Why didn’t fate allow it? It’s not fair. It’s not fair… — he murmurs, his throat burning with sorrow.

Gouenji holds him close, rubbing his back, kissing the top of his head again and again. Trying to absorb the pain, just enough to ease the burden, even a little.

— You’re right. It’s not fair — he finally whispers into Fubuki’s ear, feeling the snow fall onto their skin, the cold slipping through his shirt. — But… you know what? I don’t think it’s fair that you have to give up your birthday because of it either. I believe Atsuya would want you to celebrate for both of you — he dares to say. — But I won’t force anything on you. If you don’t want to do anything next year, we won’t. I promise.

Fubuki lets out a long, weary sigh.

— I don’t know, Shuuya. Right now… I don’t feel like anything — he replies, burying his face in Gouenji’s shoulder.

Gouenji doesn’t say anything else, because there’s no need to. Only time will determine what Fubuki will decide in the future.

All he can do is wait and support him unconditionally.

Just like he always has.
And just like he always will.

Chapter Text

Jealousy is as ugly as it is uncontrollable. It clouds your mind and takes the breath from your chest, sometimes even leading you to madness. Its intensity varies from person to person, and some individuals are, by nature, more or less jealous.

Endou always thought he belonged to the second category, so you can imagine his surprise when he realized he was falling victim to that tyrannical feeling. And the situation only got worse if you considered that the cause of it all was an adorable parrot - more precisely, a lovebird.

Yes, a lovebird. One that was jealous, in turn, of the attention Kazemaru gave him.

The whole picture could already sound laughable, and perhaps some might even dare to think he was exaggerating - and that was fine, because at first he too believed he was imagining things. But as time went by, he became more and more convinced that no, that little bird definitely didn’t like him very much.

And mind you, he tried to build a nice relationship with him. The first time he met him at his boyfriend’s house, he extended his hand slowly, gently, so that the bird could climb on it and see he meant no harm. And what did Ory - that was his name - do in return for such a friendly gesture? He bit his finger until it bled. It was a declaration of war, even if Endou didn’t understand it right away.
And while Kazemaru was putting a band-aid on his injured finger, remarking how unusual it was for Ory to bite someone so hard, Endou felt the scorching weight of a hostile gaze burning the back of his neck.

The second time they met, he tried to win him over with food. He took a few seeds in his hand and held them out to the bird, who was playing hide-and-seek among the blankets. Kazemaru called his name, and Ory poked his head out, instantly becoming the cutest thing in the world. Endou took advantage of the moment to move closer, and Ory, after staring at him motionless for several seconds, finally seemed to put aside hostilities and give in to his greed. Or so it seemed at first, because as soon as Endou got close enough, Ory bit him again, so hard he pulled his hand back as if scalded. The mix of seeds spilled on the blanket, and Ory immediately claimed them, devouring them with impressive greed.

— Ory, no! Bad boy, why are you doing this? — Kazemaru scolded, disheartened, reaching out to clean the mess.

At that point, Endou, still hurting both from the wound and the bird’s rejection, tried at least to help clean up. However, while Ory didn’t react to Kazemaru, he took a clearly defensive stance against Endou: head lowered, feathers puffed up. He looked almost like a dog trying to protect his owner and his food.
Endou felt cornered.

And every time, the situation only got worse. Ory acting as if Endou had killed his family, and Kazemaru showering him with kisses, calling him the cutest little bird in the world. To Endou, it felt like an injustice. Why did he have to suffer the worst part, ignored by his own boyfriend, when he was the real victim? Inconceivable.

In any case, today was the day; today he would finally make things clear. Kazemaru Ichirouta was his boyfriend, and he had the right to enjoy his company when he visited his house. Ory would have to understand that, and if not - too bad for him.
Having decided that, he rang the doorbell and waited for the other to open.

— Endou! Hi, come in — Kazemaru greeted him warmly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then he stepped aside to let him in first.

Endou couldn’t help but smile like an idiot and enter the house, never stopping to admire him. They went upstairs to his room and - of course - found Ory waiting for them, this time inside his cage.
Endou was tempted to show his most triumphant expression, but he held back.

— Ory’s happy to see you too, isn’t he? — Kazemaru asked, as if Ory could answer him, and Endou wondered if his boyfriend was blind or just pretending.

— I guess… — He sat on the bed, watching the bird through the bars of the cage. Even now, he couldn’t figure out what was going through his head.

— You can’t take his love for granted. — Kazemaru put his hand inside the cage and waited for Ory to climb onto his palm. When he did, resting first his beak and then his body, Kazemaru lifted him up and kissed him on the head. — Oh, you’re so adorable!

Endou watched them, burning inside. Why did Kazemaru look happier with Ory than with him? Was he inferior to an animal? Did he love him less? He was losing his mind.

“Ory… Just wait and see…” he thought, eager to prove his worth.

He approached the blue-haired boy and hugged him from behind.

— Ka-ze-ma-ru — he called, stretching out the syllables with a playful, almost syrupy tone. — Do you know that I love you?

The other looked at him with a mix of confusion and tenderness.

— I know, I love you too. — He turned his head to kiss him on the cheek.

Endou beamed, then looked at Ory with eyes that said ‘’See that?’’. The parrot, as usual, stayed still for a few seconds. Then, like lightning, he jumped from Kazemaru’s shoulder onto his head, then onto Endou’s, slid down a lock of his hair like Tarzan on a vine, and bit his poor forehead. Endou, of course, squirmed in pain, which only made Ory grip his hair even tighter. Kazemaru tried to take Ory in his hands, but with Endou thrashing about, it was almost impossible.

Finally, he lost his patience, grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, slapped him to calm him down, and made the bird climb into his palm.

— Ory, I thought we agreed you’d behave — he scolded, sounding more sad than strict.

In response, Ory stretched his neck and gently took Kazemaru’s nose in his beak, without biting. His way of giving him a kiss.

— Oh, how sweet. All right, I forgive you.

Endou was speechless, mind blank. He was the one who deserved an apology, and he still hadn’t gotten it! On top of that, his cheek was still burning from the slap!

No, no, he had to calm down. He still had an ace up his sleeve to win - ehm, to reaffirm, actually! - Kazemaru’s love.

— Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for you — he said, smiling again. He took the bag he had brought with him and pulled out its contents. — Ta-da! Your favorite donuts! — “straight from your favorite bakery that charges a fortune,” he wanted to add, but held back.

Kazemaru’s astonishment lasted only a moment, quickly replaced by excitement.

— For me? Oh, Endou, thank you! You’re so sweet. — He rushed over and hugged him with one arm, since the other was still holding Ory.

Endou savored that brief moment as something unique and precious. He almost forgot about the feud with the parrot and hugged his favorite person back.

— You know I’d do anything for you — he murmured, as if confessing a secret. Kazemaru thanked him with a gaze full of tenderness.

— Even get along with Ory? — His hope sounded genuine, but Endou couldn’t help frowning.

— You make it sound like it’s my fault… He’s the one who won’t cooperate! I tried, I swear! — he complained, turning his attention back to the bird, who was staring at them the whole time.

— Endou, animals never hate you without a reason. They only grow attached to you if you show them love in return. — The gentle way Kazemaru stroked Ory’s little red head matched perfectly with his words.

Endou began to doubt himself. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he wasn’t as warm and affectionate as he could have been. Maybe he should have been less impulsive and more patient. Maybe - even now - he should be fighting for Ory’s love, not Kazemaru’s.

He focused on those tiny black eyes, like little buttons, and once again wondered what was going through his mind. A simple attempt at a caress surely wouldn’t be enough to reconcile; he needed something he knew for certain the bird liked. Looking around, he noticed the piles of chewed-up paper strips on Kazemaru’s desk.

Ah! Of course! Every time he came into this room, he found piles of them somewhere. Kazemaru had explained that some lovebirds had this innate instinct, useful for building nests, even if sometimes it stopped halfway and they just kept the paper tucked into their feathers. Either way, it was an activity of great importance to them (though Kazemaru’s books suffered for it).

He went to the desk and picked up a small sheet of paper. Then he approached Ory again, who was perched on his owner’s shoulder. Endou gave him a timid smile and held out the paper slowly.

— Hey, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal Kazemaru from you. I just wanted to have a little piece of him for myself — he confessed sincerely, waiting for the bird to accept at least his gift. Kazemaru, meanwhile, was touched by that change in attitude. It was one of the things he loved most about Endou.

In the meantime, Ory, who initially looked ready to attack, seemed to calm down and relax. Maybe, in some way, he sensed Endou wanted to end the conflict and make peace. He leaned forward and, a bit hesitantly, took the paper in his beak and started shredding it. He looked like a typewriter.

Endou took it as a victory and smiled.

— See? He didn’t bite me! — he exclaimed happily to Kazemaru, and the other nodded several times.

Perhaps there was still a long way to go to build a positive and lasting relationship with that little bird, but at least he had taken a first step in that direction. The rest would come with time, he thought, as he held his boyfriend’s hand.

Chapter Text

The day he met him for the first time is clearer than ever in his memory.

It was summer, in its usual radiant exhaustion, and he, despite piano practice and possible outings with friends, felt that time was slipping by without him accomplishing anything substantial, nothing really worthwhile.

Even his parents must have felt the same, because that year they decided to plan a vacation different from the usual.

— It's nice to return to your roots once in a while, and being surrounded by nature can only be good for the body — they had said, and he had no objections.

They chose a village in the northernmost part of Kyoto and rented a small house - “small” just to say, because in reality, it had two fully equipped floors with everything they might need. They packed their bags, and before he knew it they were already there, keys in hand, eager to enjoy a quiet holiday.

To Shindou, it felt like he had been catapulted into another era. The streets and houses were strictly Japanese in style, and most people wore hakama and yukata. The atmosphere was strikingly different from Tokyo, yet Shindou did not feel overwhelmed; instead, he felt welcomed. People’s expressions were calm and serene, and they didn’t make him feel out of place. Perhaps it was the Japanese side of him that gave that sense of being at home. Certainly, he didn’t mind.

He spent the first days organizing his things and exploring the surroundings. There was so much to see he didn’t know where to start. While wandering, he also noticed that near the village there was a small hill topped with trees, which for some reason caught his attention. Curious, he wanted to explore it, but he wasn’t careful enough to go alone without knowing anything about it. He would ask one of the locals when he had the chance.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Only four days had passed, and Shindou had already made friends with the local boys: Tenma, Nishizono, Fey, Kurama, and Hamano. They immediately got along thanks to their shared passion for soccer, and each was a good companion in his own way.

He also liked his neighbor, Tsurugi Kyousuke. Serious and with a slight delinquent aura, Tsurugi was actually quite kind and respectful toward him, since he was a year younger. It was pleasant to spend time chatting together.

And during one of those chats, he decided to ask him about the hill that intrigued him so much, and learned some peculiar information.

— The hill? Well, as far as I know, there’s only an old temple at the top. Except for holidays, people don’t visit it often: the elderly are too tired to climb all those steps, while the youth aren't interested — he replied, adding nothing else. Apparently, Shindou was the only one intrigued by the topic.

The alleged normality of the temple paradoxically fascinated him. He felt like an archaeologist gathering data about a place forgotten by everyone. And maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go there.

That’s why he was at the foot of the hill, with the sun beating down on his head - because there was no way he would go at night; he still remembered all those horror games his friend Sangoku had forced him to play - and the deafening sound of cicadas torturing his sensitive musician ears. He also found a staircase that seemed to lead straight to the temple, sparing him the risk of getting lost.

As he climbed, he often stopped to admire the various statues lining the steps, which, together with the emerald trees and poppy-red torii gates, gave the staircase an almost magical atmosphere.

He continued until he started to glimpse the temple itself, and only then did he speed up until he reached the building. Shindou was almost speechless. It was a majestic building, diligently maintained and clean, imposing. It rose in all its height, not as modest as one might expect, among those thick trees, and the dance of the leaves was the only sound audible throughout the area. Suddenly, the boy felt small, as if a divine eye was watching and judging him, and faced with such awe, he felt a wave of discomfort.

Slowly, he approached the building’s door. Of course no spirit would curse him for getting closer, right? All of a sudden, his body stiffened with tension and he slowed his steps. Damn paranoia. Why the hell did he have to remember those made-up stories now, of all times? His brain was sabotaging himself, and maybe because of the horror fictions or the general sense of unease, his attention was fully absorbed by that temple, so much so that he didn’t notice the muffled footsteps behind him.

— BOO!

Shindou almost had a heart attack. He spun around in haste and saw a boy about his age. He put a hand on his heart, relieved. It was just a boy. He should stop listening to all those terrifying stories for his own good. The boy was chuckling, amused by his exaggerated reaction. Usually, Takuto would have been annoyed - after all, he’d just been scared half to death - but at that moment he was too busy staring at the peculiar boy. Pink hair tied in two pigtails, sky-blue eyes, a red hakama matching his hair, and delicate features giving him an androgynous look. From afar, anyone might have mistaken him for a girl, but Shindou was certain he was a boy. And a very handsome one, he couldn’t deny it.

— Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist. You looked so tense I just had to mess with you a little — the boy said, calming his laughter.

— Well, I was told it’s not a very visited place, so I didn’t expect to find anyone else here. — For some reason, he wasn’t angry at him at all.

— “You were told”? So you’re not from here. I was right to think I’d never seen you around — he observed with a relaxed smile. — In that case, we should introduce ourselves. My name’s Kirino Ranmaru, nice to meet you — and with that, he extended his hand.

— Shindou Takuto, nice to meet you — he shook the hand, returning the smile, thus concluding the introductions. His hand felt pleasant to the touch, he noticed, before letting go.

— Shindou, huh... — he repeated with some sort of sweetness. — Why would a boy your age be wandering around here? — his curiosity seemed genuine.

— I was exploring the area, that’s all... but I could ask you the same question. And judging by how you speak, you seem to come here often — it was strange; he had come here for the express purpose of ‘investigating’ the shrine, yet all his curiosity towards it shifted to this boy. He wanted to get to know him better, and he couldn’t explain why.

— How perceptive, but first, let’s sit — Kirino said, sitting on the steps in front of the temple’s main facade. Shindou imitated him. — Actually, I come here every day.

— Why? — the question came out of its own accord. After all, why would a boy his age visit an old temple every day?

— Ah, you see, my family has been taking care of this place for generations. The main priest is, by title, my father, but since he’s been very sick lately, it’s up to me to help my mother and the others as much as possible. Well, in the end, I’ll inherit the role of priest one day, so it’s good to get some practice...

Perhaps it was just his impression, but it seemed that the more Kirino talked, the more his gaze became distant and sad, despite the smile never leaving his lips. Maybe he was worried about his father.

— I’m sorry about your father, I hope he recovers.

Kirino turned to him and the corners of his lips curved up a bit more.

— Thanks — he said, and Shindou was captivated. Not just by his expression; even his voice had a beautiful tone. Earlier he hadn’t noticed due to the scare, but now he realized how clear and harmonious that voice was; pleasant to the ear. It would make a great duo with his piano.

Also, Shindou began to admire the boy even more, noting how diligently he handled his shrine duties.

— What you do is amazing, but doesn’t it take up a lot of your time? Do you still manage to go out with friends?

That boy was incredible if he could handle school, shrine duties, and social outings all at once.

— Ah, yes, yes, don’t worry, I manage everything — he gave an instant reply, but for some reason, it didn’t sound very convincing. Maybe it was only Shindou again with his paranoia; they had just met, what did he know about him anyway?

— I’m saying it again, you’re incredible — he affirmed, and Kirino seemed to blush a little because of the compliment. It was a cute sight. — But tell me, what do you like to do in your free time?

The other chuckled.

— You want to know everything, huh? — he bent forward, resting his arms and head on his knees. — Hmm, you know what? I’m not going to tell you.

His smile was amused, almost sly, but Shindou could only respond with a puzzled and confused look.

— Why not? — Did he say or do something wrong?

— If I gave you all the answers now, you’d walk away satisfied and never visit me again — he said with a matter-of-fact face.

— Eeeh?

That was the reason? Shindou hadn’t expected the boy with pink pigtails to value his company so much.

— So if you want answers, you’ll have to come back tomorrow — saying this, he got up from his seat. — Deal?

Shindou looked into his shining eyes, full of genuine laughter, and sighed. How could he refuse?

— Deal.

They shook hands again to seal the agreement.

— Anyway, we’ve talked enough about me, but you haven’t told me anything about yourself  — he pointed out, and Shindou realized it was true. Maybe he had asked too many questions.

He began by explaining why he was in the village, where he came from, and his hobbies. After that, they continued to chat about this and that. They enjoyed each other’s company and time flew by. It was already evening and Shindou had to go home, while Kirino would return later.

— Alright, I’m going now. See you tomorrow, Kirino.

He started to leave, but the other grabbed his sleeve, stopping him. Shindou turned, curious.

— Wait, there is something else I want to tell you — he said all of a sudden, shy, almost blushing. He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if struggling whether to say aloud what he had in mind, then spoke: — Thank you, Shindou, for keeping me company — his usual sweet smile framed by the sunset on the horizon.

Shindou was taken by surprise. It was the first time someone thanked him with such sincerity, and just for a bit of company. A pleasant warmth spread through his chest and, looking at that boy, the memory of his favorite flower came to mind without warning. He wasn’t an expert on flowers, only a little he had read in some books, but there was one flower he liked very much: the Cosmos flower, also called Cosmea. It’s usually pink, with delicate petals and a nice scent. The reason he liked it so much was its lack of extravagance. A simple flower that symbolizes tranquility, modesty, and integrity; its beauty lies in that. Also, Takuto swore he had read something about another meaning, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t recall.

However, surprisingly enough, Kirino Ranmaru matched that flower’s description in every respect. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was.

He couldn’t wait to see him again tomorrow.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

— So? Will you answer my question now? — Shindou asked the next day, wasting no time.

Ranmaru looked at him, amused, hiding something behind his back.

— Since you kept your promise, yes, I’ll tell you. Let’s see, what do I like to do? I like reading, listening to music, and above all, drawing — he listed, closing his fingers for each point.

— You draw? — Shindou’s eyes lit up like a child’s. — Could you show me something? Even just a sketch?

Kirino gave him a mischievous smile, as if he was already expecting such a reaction, and pulled his personal sketchbook from behind his back.

— I knew you’d ask me that — he said, handing the sketchbook to a very excited Shindou. — Look, you’re the first person I’ve ever shown it to, consider yourself the luckiest person alive.

— Alright, and you be careful not to get a bigger head, okay? — he teased back and finally opened the notebook.

What he saw almost took his breath away, and he wasn’t exaggerating. The more pages he flipped through, the more impressed he was by the precision, skill, and great effort put into those drawings. There were subjects of all kinds: plants, flowers, animals, objects, people seen from behind, landscapes. Some were finished drawings, others just sketches, but all displayed the artist’s unmistakable personal touch, making them recognizable anywhere.

Shindou was moved. He knew almost nothing about the boy or his artistic journey, yet somehow he felt that album contained his whole essence. His entire existence as Kirino Ranmaru.

— Do you like them? — the boy asked, this time with a hint of shyness in his voice. Although he had acted cocky before, there was no way he didn’t feel anxious about a judgment.

— More than I expected, and I assure you my expectations were high — he answered, drawing a relieved smile from the other.

He continued flipping and noticed that among all those subjects there was one that appeared many times: birds. Small, big, colorful, monochrome, alone, in groups, with wings widely spread, often against a very blue sky in the background. There was something in those drawings that made them even more authentic than the others, but Shindou couldn’t exactly explain what it was; it was just a feeling, an intuition.

— Looks like you have a particular interest — he pointed at what he meant.

— Well, you could say that — he replied, as if embarrassed that he’d noticed.

— Why?

Kirino took a few seconds to think, then finally spoke.

— Birds are such graceful and free animals — he began, then lowered both his gaze and his voice. — Sometimes I think I’d like to be like them.

Shindou looked at him with curiosity and couldn’t resist asking the following question: — Don’t you feel free, Kirino?

The mentioned boy widened his eyes, troubled, but then brought back his usual smile, this time a bit forced.

— What are you talking about, dummy? That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to look for a hidden meaning behind every word I say — and he laughed, but that laugh didn’t sound genuine at all to Shindou’s ears. However, it seemed rude to probe a subject the other didn’t want to touch, especially since they barely knew each other, so he didn’t say anything else.

Kirino immediately noticed the atmosphere between them was getting heavier, so he hurried to change the subject.

— Aaanyway, there’s a place I want to show you.

Shindou didn’t even have time to raise an eyebrow in confusion before he was already being pulled by the hand by the other boy. The latter was leading him through the dense network of trees surrounding the temple, and Shindou began to worry they might get lost, yet Kirino was completely at ease navigating those labyrinthine paths, showing that he knew those places like the back of his hand. After less than five minutes, they arrived at an open space, large enough to play or have a picnic, small enough to enjoy the cool shade of the trees. A kind of small ‘locus amoenus,’ a pleasant, idyllic spot.

Kirino turned to him and smiled. He shone like the sun.

— When I finish what I have to do and have some free time, I usually come here to rest. It’s kind of a personal refuge.

— But if it’s your personal refuge, is it really okay that I’m here too? — he asked, unsure. He would feel uncomfortable if someone invaded his hiding place.

— Sometimes you ask the silliest questions — the other laughed, amused, while Takuto gave him a glare. He clasped his hands behind his back. — Look, I wouldn’t have brought you here if it bothered me.

— But a refuge isn’t really personal if more people know about it — he pointed out.

— If only two people know about it, it can still be personal — the other boy replied, and Shindou found himself at a loss for words.

If he understood correctly, this meant Kirino had shown that place only to him. But why reveal such a private thing to him, and maybe not to a closer friend?

He didn’t dare ask. He wanted to keep hoping that behind that choice there was a special reason. Who knows why he clung to such hope.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shindou kept visiting his new friend in the following days. Now that they had a quiet place to hang out, they spent most of their time there.

When he was with him, the brown-haired boy felt different. More genuine, grounded, alive.

As if he finally belonged to the world, instead of skimming over its surface.

He carried on asking the pink-haired boy questions, and the latter would answer some while leaving others for the next day. That way, he ensured Shindou would come back - which was funny, since the brown-haired boy didn’t need a reason like that to visit him.

— So? Favorite flower? — He had already asked about food, colors, songs, hairstyles, football teams, and on and on. One of the few things missing from the list of preferences was flowers.

— Flowers, huh? — Kirino repeated with an almost dreamy smile, swinging his feet from the tree branch. At that moment, he looked like a little prince. — Hmm, let’s see. Hydrangea? Yeah, hydrangea.

Shindou watched him from below with a kind of wonder. The more days passed, the more he felt drawn to this boy; he was the earth, and Ranmaru was the sun.

— Good choice, it has very shifting colors. I like cosmos better.

— Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one... — he said thoughtfully.

— Then one day I’ll bring you one.

The other boy smiled at him, sweet.

— Then I’ll wait.

The air was pleasant. The sun’s rays beat down mercilessly on the open ground, yet a passing breeze refreshed them and made the trees whisper. But none of it would have meant anything without Ranmaru’s presence. He was what made that place so magical, Takuto thought.

— Anyway, Shindou?

— Hm?

— Catch me — he ordered, without warning, and the brown-haired boy didn’t even have time to be surprised before the pink-haired boy was pushing himself off the branch.

Before he could think, despite the panic, Shindou used his reflexes and positioned himself underneath, catching him at once. His friend’s body slipped with effortlessness into his arms, and he clung with all his strength, his nails digging into the flesh. For the first time, they were skin to skin, so close they could feel each other’s breath. The light, silky hakama against his hands. The scent of magnolia in the air. The warmth of forearms around his shoulders and part of his neck. The ease of simply being.

— Why did you do that? — he asked, and as usual, he was unable to be mad at him.

— Dunno, I wondered if you’d catch me...

— And if I hadn’t?

Kirino buried a smile against his shoulder. His voice was soft as cotton.

— I hoped you would.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It was strange. This feeling he carried inside, that is.

Shindou was a boy who had never lacked friends, so he knew well that Kirino was different from the others. They had known each other only a short time, yet he felt a connection he’d never had with anyone else; in the way they looked at each other, spoke, touched. In the way they existed side by side.

Even now, as he watched him weave a flower crown, his brow furrowed in concentration, he felt a peace and contentment hard to describe.

— Is there much left? — he asked, just to hear his voice.

— No, almost finished — the other answered without even looking at him.

He made a few more centimeters of weaving and finally joined the two ends of the crown. He approached Shindou and placed it on his head, looking pleased with himself.

— A-ah, was that for me? — an unexpected gift. He was convinced Ranmaru was making it for himself, and the adorable image of the boy wearing the crown vanished like smoke along with his expectations.

— Of course, who else? — he laughed. A sweet and lively sound.

Takuto watched him with fondness and wondered if they were now close enough to ask each other any question. Because there was one in particular that had been tickling his brain for some time.

— Hey, can I ask you a question that might or might not offend you?

Kirino stopped laughing and gave him an interested look.

— If you ask me like that, you make me anxious — he joked to lighten the mood. Then sighed. — Okay, go on then.

The brown-haired boy stayed silent for a few more seconds, carefully weighing his words. Of course, he didn’t mean to offend him; he just wanted clarity.

— Kirino, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t have many friends besides me, right?

They stared at each other for a while; the pink-haired boy seemed to have forgotten how to speak. He didn’t look shocked. It was more like a silent surprise, almost resigned. Then he collected himself and let out a small ‘tsk’ before smiling.

— Sorry to say it, but you’re terrible at asking questions, that was clearly a statement — was the first thing he said, and Shindou nodded, not interrupting him. — Anyway, yeah, you got it right. I don’t have many friends. In fact, besides you, I don’t really have any other friends. — He shrugged. As if it didn’t concern him. — You know, I had to take care of the temple since I was little. I was always a very busy kid, unlike other kids my age. I couldn’t play with them after school, nor go to their houses, nor just hang around the streets aimlessly. Well, it was obvious sooner or later they’d get tired of trying. Or maybe, I don’t know, maybe I’m just boring — and he laughed, but there was bitterness in the sound.

— I think you’re interesting. And nice — Shindou objected without hesitation; a calm that was almost enviable.

He moved closer to the pink-haired boy and wrapped his hand around his own, warm and reassuring. A gesture that prevented Ranmaru from running away from his fears and disillusionments. He could no longer pretend the issue didn’t affect him.

— Sometimes you’re really cruel, you know? You always hit where it hurts most — his eyes took on a sparkling, tearful gleam. — Actually, rather than blaming you, I should be the one apologizing. I lied and pretended everything was normal... that I didn’t mind having this lifestyle, inheriting the temple, not having time to go out — he paused for a few seconds, his gaze a bit lost, then continued. — But I didn’t do it out of spite. I was just embarrassed, I didn’t want you to pity me or think I was weird. I just wanted you to be my friend.

After pouring out his soul with those words, he finally lifted his face toward the other person, a bit hesitant. What would he think of him now? Would things stay the same or become complicated?

His doubts vanished as soon as he caught the other’s gaze. Shindou wasn’t looking at him with pity, embarrassment, or anger. His expression was only sweet and understanding. Grateful.

— You did very well. Even if you don’t like it, you’ve always tried not to disappoint anyone. You gave up many things and I bet you kept it all inside without ever complaining. More than weird, I consider you admirable. Really — he admitted without reservation, and Kirino felt a couple of traitorous tears slip down his warm cheeks.

That boy always hit where it hurt most, but he also knew how to make him feel better.

That day they stayed late talking about the future, careers, and what they truly wanted in life.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

After that episode, their relationship became stronger, more intimate. An even stronger understanding grew between them, while the blushes and shy smiles increased in number.

— I guess you’ve never been to a pajama party — Shindou mused aloud, while helping him sweep away fallen leaves.

Ranmaru just shook his head. He was no longer ashamed to admit these things. Not in front of Shindou.

The latter smiled, an idea forming in his mind.

— Then do you want to come to my house tonight? I promise we’ll have fun.

The other stared at him, lost, for what seemed like hours, but finally accepted. After all, his nights weren’t usually busy, so why not?

They met around eight in the evening in front of the brown-haired boy’s house.

— Wow, I’ve never seen you in normal clothes before.

— How am I supposed to answer that? — the other retorted, rolling his eyes.

Shindou chuckled, and Kirino soon followed.

They entered the lush villa and had dinner together. Takuto’s parents were very happy to have him over, so the pink-haired boy didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Then they helped clear the table and went upstairs. They put on pajamas (the brown-haired boy noticed Kirino looked stunning no matter what he wore) and spent the rest of the evening talking, playing cards, and watching some movies on the laptop.

When midnight had long passed, they decided it was time to sleep.

— Hey, I don’t mind sleeping in the same bed, but if it makes you uncomfortable I can bring out the futon — Shindou offered; outside he seemed calm, but inside he was bursting with the possibility of sharing a bed with his friend.

Kirino averted his gaze and took a few seconds to think, as if weighing the consequences of both options, then answered in a somewhat low and shy tone: — It’s not a problem for me either...

So, they found themselves under the warmth of the same blanket.

— Did you have fun? — he asked; moonlight spilled across his skin, giving him an ethereal and serene appearance.

— Yes, thanks for inviting me — the other answered, looking him straight in the eyes, full of an unusual sparkle.

They had to close their eyelids and fall asleep, right? Yet, despite it being the simplest task in the world, at that moment they couldn’t manage it. They were too absorbed in watching each other - being so close wasn’t something that happened often - and little by little they were falling into a kind of magical, dreamlike space, where every sensation could be felt on the surface of the skin.

The moon continued to watch over them, wrapping them in its silence, and they didn’t feel awkward about the closeness; rather, they got closer and closer, yearning for something that still didn’t have a clear form in their minds but that was already able to set their hearts on fire. What would happen if they got even closer? They knew and didn’t know at the same time, as if lost in a playful haze; nevertheless, they wanted to do it.

So Takuto decided to switch off reason and surrender control of his body to instinct. He brought a hand to Ranmaru’s soft cheek - everything was soft on that boy - and caressed it with the delicacy it deserved. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, he erased the little space left between them and kissed him.

He kissed Kirino Ranmaru.

And indeed, even a kiss with him was soft. It couldn’t be described otherwise. A sweetness and gentleness that he’d never felt before, heightened only by the way the other clung to him.
The beating he heard… was it his own or the other’s? He, who had such sensitive ears, couldn’t distinguish them. After all, every sound from Ranmaru merged with his own, resulting in a seamless melody.

When they finally parted, they said nothing. They just returned to joining their lips again, partly out of need, partly because they wanted to chase away any thought that tried to intrude between them.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It wasn’t his intention to fall in love. Even when he noticed the symptoms, he preferred to pretend nothing was wrong and let things stay as they were.

The idea of confessing his feelings to Kirino only to separate from him right after seemed too devastating and complicated.

Yet, there he was, trying to convince him (and himself) that somehow things would work out. That they weren’t really so far apart. That they would talk every day and he would visit him whenever possible. That they loved each other, and that was all that mattered.

— Come on, don’t cry.

Ranmaru hadn’t been able to stop the tears for a while.

— Yeah, I get it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you. Not seeing you every day… I…

Shindou pulled him close and hugged him tight.

— I know... I know... — he whispered in his ear while stroking his back with gentle motions.

He would miss him terribly. So he held him tighter, as if he wanted to fill himself with that feeling to carry it through the times ahead.

He was almost about to cry himself but decided to hold back. He had to stay strong, at least for the other.

He pulled away at last, reluctant to let go, and went to get a box, which he handed to Kirino.

— A gift for you.

It was pretty, about half a meter big and very light. The pink-haired boy stared at it with curiosity and was about to open it, but the other told him to wait.

— Ranmaru, listen — he placed his palms on both his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together, intimate in a way that felt theirs alone. — You’re a strong and smart boy, and you’re no one’s substitute. You have every right in the world to choose what to do with your life, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about that. But most of all, I will support you no matter what you choose. Understand?

Kirino nodded, understanding what he was referring to. Those words gave him a deep sense of comfort, and the fleeting kiss that followed even more.

They stayed like that for a while longer, until it was time for Takuto to leave. They smiled at each other, promising to call later that evening, and the brown-haired boy got into the car. He left, while the boy in the hakama continued waving his hand in his direction.

Then he sighed and finally decided to see what was inside the box. When he lifted the lid, his eyes widened. Inside was a delicate bouquet of pale pink flowers whose name he didn’t know - but could guess - and a little note. It said: “One day let’s go see them at Tonami Yumenotaira, together.”

And when he thought that boy couldn’t be any sweeter, he turned the note over.

“Oh, I remembered: cosmos also symbolizes love.”

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

A long-distance relationship was anything but easy, but somehow they managed to make it last. They called each other every day, always keeping each other updated and supporting one another in times of need. At least once a month, Takuto took the Shinkansen to visit him - those were the best days of the month. Sometimes it was Ranmaru who came to Tokyo, and then they got lost exploring new places together.

So the seasons passed, and with them, their high school years. Shindou now had to start university, and to make commuting easier, he moved into an apartment nearby. He had been fully settled in for a few days and was wondering what Kirino had chosen to do since he hadn’t told him yet.

He was sipping some tea in the kitchen when he heard the doorbell ring. Strange, he wasn’t expecting guests. He went to the door, and when he opened it, he had to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

— Surprise?

The most beautiful voice ever washed over him like a river.

There was no doubt: right in front of him was his boyfriend. As cute as ever.

After the first moments of disbelief, he pulled him close with force, squeezing him in his arms and laughing like a child.

It was true that he had given him his new address just in case, but he never expected the pink-haired boy to show up at his door without warning.

— What are you doing here? — he asked, placing his hand on his cheek and locking eyes.

Kirino took a few seconds to answer, but when he did, his eyes shone with their own light.

— I finally decided. I want to go to university. I want to become a graphic designer — he admitted with a determination that filled Shindou with pride. — And then... — he continued, this time a little shyer — ...you know, since I had to move out anyway, I thought I could choose a university in your city, so we could live closer...

His red cheeks were adorable.

— Good thinking — the other chuckled, touched. — Have you already found a place to stay?

— Actually, I looked and considered a few options, but I haven’t decided yet. Finding a suitable apartment as a student is harder than I thought — he sighed.

— Then how about living here?

— Huh?

Ranmaru’s heart flipped.

Had he heard right? Takuto was asking him to live together? Just like that? No big words or ceremonies?

He blushed even more. Of course, in the past he stayed at the brown-haired boy’s place for a few days whenever he came to Tokyo, but sharing the limited space of an apartment just the two of them was something else.

It was crossing that line that separated them from adult life.

Yet, rather than scared, he felt excited. The idea of seeing Takuto every morning upon waking and every night before sleeping made him euphoric, as if he enjoyed a rare and fortunate privilege.

So he accepted. He embraced that new life, which might not be a bed of roses, but would surely hold many surprises. And then, together, they would make it work - just like they had in all those years. Because they had found in each other what the other lacked, and now separating had become impossible.

Shindou gestured for him to come inside, and Kirino was about to comply when he remembered to grab the bag he had left by the door. Fortunately, his boyfriend hadn’t yet noticed the other surprise resting beside it: a small bouquet of hydrangeas.