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The risk-benefit analysis of butterflies

Creator: Creo @queenofthefaces Recipient: @kira-7 Title: The risk-benefit analysis of butterflies Characters/Pairing: IoRyuu Summary: Io Naruko is successful. Unbelievably successful…but success doesn’t necessarily equal happiness. He attends a play in a rinky old theater on a whim, and the talented pink-haired actor playing Hamlet takes his breath away. Who knew he could find everything he ever needed in an old ticket stub and a risk? Comment: This is my gift for kira-7 for the boueibu valentines event!! I hope you like it! It’s been so long since I’ve written for this fandom ;;w;;

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736794

____________

He was successful. Unbelievably successful. He earned master’s degrees in economics and business finance. He became CEO of his company when he was only 20. He was incredibly wealthy, known for his competent, frugal nature—but also for his frequent philanthropy. His reputation was sparkling. He stayed out of politics and away from scandals. He lived alone in a neat, functional condo and drove a neat, functional car to work.

He had everything he needed.

But Io Naruko wasn’t happy.

It wasn’t something he thought about often, or so he told himself. The sharp longing in his chest came and went more often than he was comfortable admitting—when he saw happy families as he drove to work, when his subordinates took time off for weddings and honeymoons, when he laid in bed at night—alone, staring at his ceiling in the dim light of the moon, filtering through his cheap, paper curtains.

He wasn’t happy, but he told himself he was fine. Content, even. Or at the very least, he wasn’t miserable—neutral, maybe.

At this moment, however, he wasn’t thinking about that at all. Instead, Io was irritably glancing down at his wristwatch, and wondering how his careful planning could’ve fallen apart so spectacularly.

Well. He was being hyperbolic. He was irritable, though.

Io was currently sat in an uncomfortable, cramped theater chair, trying not to glance at the state of the seats around him—the fabric was dingy, stained, torn in places. It sent a shiver of disgust skittering over his skin. But he paid for his ticket.

His ticket to…Io checked his stub…to Hamlet. Io was at a production of Hamlet. The reason? He had a client who adored theater, and Io, knowing nothing about the subject, decided it would be useful to attend a show. The ticket was cheap, the show wasn’t long, and the little theater was on his way home from work. He’d never seen the place before, and marveled at the thought, thinking it a nice surprise before he walked into the building. It was falling apart, that was for sure. And even still, as Io looked around him, the seats were almost bare, a few scattered pockets of people. Io thought, cynically, they were only there to support their struggling actor friends. He might have been the only one there without a connection to any of the cast.

The show was running fifteen minutes late, and counting. Io was punctual, scheduled, and he wasn’t going to spend his once-in-a-blue-moon day off sitting around in a dark, ratty theater with a spring digging into his lower back through his seat.

Except he was. Because he paid for his ticket.

Io crossed his arms. He was just about to take out his tablet again when a spotlight suddenly shined onto the stage. It blinked to life, and a young actor emerged from the curtains and welcomed the audience.

There was light, polite applause as the curtains opened.

Io sunk into his seat, prepared to continue to regret his decision.

He didn’t. In fact, he didn’t know his opinion could’ve changed so quickly.

Io wasn’t expecting to be interested in the show, but then—their Hamlet took the stage, and Io was enthralled by his performance. Io found it difficult to relate to people in his daily life, but this actor, in a run-down old theater, actually made Io feel for him, for his character. The actor’s passion seeped into his every movement as he dominated the stage with his presence. His expressions, his voice—it all felt genuine in a way Io didn’t think he could appreciate.

They ran the show without intermission, and Io sat at the edge of his seat, completely invested. The other actors were good, but Io kept searching for, waiting for Hamlet when he wasn’t on stage.

By the end of the play, Io just barely restrained himself from leaping to his feet as he applauded. The cast members were all grinning ear-to-ear, despite the low turnout, despite the condition of their theater. Hamlet stood at the center, bowing deeply alongside his castmates. His character melted from his shoulders, and all Io could see was exuberance in the eyes of a talented young man.

The actors filtered off backstage, and Io wondered if he could stay behind and…and talk. Tell Hamlet how moving his performance was, how something warm and bright had stirred in Io’s chest for the first time in a long time.

Then, however, Io’s phone rang.

He swore under his breath—completely unprofessional—when he realized he had to leave. There wasn’t a playbill, so Io couldn’t even get Hamlet’s name. He left the theater with a glance over his shoulder, hoping to see movement from behind the curtain, if, by chance, he could catch the actor as he left.

Io’s phone buzzed against his palm.

No luck. Io left to his car, disappointment curdling in his stomach.

—

The next day, he found himself distracted at work for the first time in his career.

His mind kept drifting as his pen skittered across his mountain of paperwork. He kept thinking about that actor—the vibrance in his expressions, the way his voice carried so confidently. The theater didn’t make a lot of money—Io checked—so the actor was…wasting his talents, wasn’t he? The risk-benefits were lopsided…but he looked so happy up on that stage. Like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Someone knocked on Io’s door, and he realized with a start he’d been daydreaming, doodling stars and swirls at the edge of his papers. Io sat up straight, taking his elbows from off his desk (unprofessional!) and called out.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Io pushed aside the doodles in his margins.

—

He took a lunch break for the first time, too.

Io usually ate in his office, with his cost-efficient packed lunch. He often worked while he ate, or simply forgot to eat. It saved time, it boosted his productivity.

It wasn’t for today.

Io felt the eyes on him as he strode out of his office.

“Sir, is there something wrong?” A manager was waiting for en elevator when she saw Io’s approach. Her voice was concerned. Io realized what he must’ve looked like: the elusive, work-minded boss leaving his office in a hurry.

“No, nothing is wrong. I am just…going out for lunch, today.” Io stepped into the elevator, fighting to keep the flush from his face. He was acting out of character, he knew, but that wasn’t stopping him. “Thank you for your concern, Kurokawa.”

The manager looked surprised—whether her shock was towards Io’s strange behavior, or the fact that he remembered her name (he remembered all of their names, of course), Io couldn’t tell.

His pulse skipped in his chest as he walked to his car, his gait uneven as he rushed across the parking lot in his almost-too-tight dress shoes.

Io drove back down to the theater. He didn’t even know if it would still be open. He….he forgot to check. But there he was, standing in front of its humble double-doors.

When he entered this second time, Io saw the little theater in a new light. No longer was he focused on peeling paint, or off-color support beams. This time, Io took note of how clean the lobby was—no dust, no trash.

There was no one at the front desk. Io thought he should leave, but even as he was thinking about going, his feet were walking him in the opposite direction, through the doors to the main auditorium.

Io saw movement—but it didn’t belong to who he was looking for. Instead, there was an older man, the actor who played Claudius, holding a broom as he maneuvered through the seats.

“Hello, son.” Claudius looked up when he heard the door open. “What do you need?” His voice was kind. And at his question, a million and one answers swam through his head.

He needed to find Hamlet. He needed to show his appreciation for the play. He needed to unwind the tense tangles of his muscles from sitting at his desk all day. He needed to call his mother. He needed to splurge on shoes that fit him, and on a coffee machine that worked more than half the time. He needed a friend.

“I…I don’t know.” Was his spoken response.

“That’s alright, son; I don’t think any of us know what we need.”

“I—I mean…” Io tried to compose himself, all of a sudden feeling very, very young. “I came to a play, yesterday. I…it was very good.” Io cleared his throat, his face burning. He could talk the Queen of England into selling him Buckingham Palace, but at this moment, all his carefully selected words evaporated into smoke. “Very moving.” Io finished lamely.

Claudius just smiled. He was so different from the character he played, genuinely open and trusting.

“We’re doing Hamlet again, next week,” Claudius said, the invitation clear in his voice.

“I…” The memory of a broad smile, and earnest brown eyes flitted in Io’s mind. “Okay.” Io nodded quickly, almost breathless.

He scurried out of the theater.

As he sat in the driver’s side of his parked car, Io gripped the wheel, hands shaking.

He…he was excited. He had something to look forward to.

Next week. Okay.

He was going to see Hamlet next week.

Io walked into the office smiling.

—

Io saw Hamlet, and then waited an agonizing month before he was able to attend their next show. It was another Shakespeare production, likely so they could reuse the props and costumes. This time it was A Midsummer’s Night Dream. This time, Hamlet played Puck, and though Io didn’t know the actor at all—he somehow felt the mischievous spark in the actor’s eye fit much more than Hamlet’s tragedy.

Io saw all three performances of A Midsummer’s Night Dream, one after the other, each week. With each performance, Io caught something he hadn’t before, saw how the actors changed up their reactions. They breathed life into the play, and each incarnation was a different being. It took Io’s breath away to see.

Between the last performance of A Midsummer’s Night Dream and the preparation for the next play, Io scoured the internet for any scrap of information he could find about the theater. He found a few mediocre Yelp reviews, a blog post talking about a production from three years prior, and the theater’s official website.

Io began following the theater’s website almost religiously. The site, unlike the building itself, was sleek, and modern. Io wondered if one of the young actors designed it.

The site was scant for information. It gave a brief overview of the theater’s history, the premiere date of the next show, and a gallery of pictures. The quality of the photos varied—some were professional, while others were obviously taken with a cellphone from an audience seat. Io saw the actor—Hamlet, Puck—in some of the photos, dressed in costume, still shining with that passion, with that shine in his eye Io had come to admire.

The next show was Little Women. Io had searched up the brief synopsis out of curiosity when he saw it announced on the website. It was a play with a small cast. Io wondered who would be on stage when he went to see it.

Occasionally, Io would look at the funds set aside for play tickets and hear a scolding voice in his head admonish him for wasting his money. After all, the theater-loving client Io had gone to the original play for wasn’t interested in chat when they’d had the opportunity to meet. Io wasn’t going to the theater for…for any good reason, anymore.

But then, he’d remember the thump of his chest, the anticipation thrumming in his veins, and he’d push his guilty conscience down.

—

Io sat in his seat, with the spring digging into his back, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

He gasped when he saw the actor—Hamlet, Puck—taking on this new role. He played the outspoken, willful Jo. He worked the stage as beautifully as he always had, pulling Io in and making Io understand what his character was going through. As Jo, he glided across the stage in his layers of heavy skirts, with grace and power and a barely restrained sense of urgency, of desperation, indicative of Jo’s bold character. Io was completely immersed in the story, in the way Jo had sold the character.

As the cast took their bows, Io realized, once again, how talented this actor was. After all, he’d had Io convinced he was a teenage girl, despite so obviously being a man. Looking at him now, even as he stood in costume, Io could see the strong line of his jaw, the long curl of his fingers, the bony wrists peeking out from his long sleeves. His hair fell in shiny, fuchsia-pink layers down against the nape of his neck. His bangs softened his face, but he was still unmistakably masculine, even as his lips curled into a playful grin as his costar spun him around on stage, his skirts flaring up in a wave of fabric. The image of him up there, his hair a mess from his abandoned bonnet, skirts flying around him, an exhilarated look in his eyes.

In eyes that had, suddenly, met Io’s.

Io’s heart skipped a beat.

The actor held his gaze, inquisitive, playful, for a heartstopping moment—before he was pulled away by a cast member. Io watched him go, and only barely noticed how he looked back at Io as he was hidden away by the curtain.

Io checked his phone, and his tablet…halfheartedly, because his eyes kept glancing up towards the stage. Cast members were slowly filtering out, but not the one Io was…well, the actor Io was looking for.

Io stood, ready to make his way to the door. He straightened out his jacket, made sure he didn’t leave anything behind, and all-in-all wasted just a few more seconds before he turned to the door.

“Wait!”

Io stopped in his tracks. His chest filled with something warm, tentative.

He turned around, and…well, he couldn’t describe what it was like. There was the actor—Hamlet, Puck, Jo, except also, none of them, just himself—bounding towards Io.

“Hey,” he said, grinning. He held out a hand. “I’m Ryuu.”

Io took the hand on instinct, his voice struggling from where it was stuck in his throat.

“Naruko—Io Naruko.”

Io looked at him, and repeated the name, Ryuu, Ryuu, Ryuu, over and over, seeing how it fit to the face he’d come to know over the past few months.

It fit well.

“I noticed you coming to our shows, so, like, thanks for that! Really! It’s nice seeing someone who likes us—even when we totally flub lines and whatever.” Ryuu laughed, open and just a little self conscious.

“Y-yes!” Io replied, too quickly, “I’m not…I’m not a theater person, but…these shows are…” Io glanced at Ryuu, hesitating, distracted. He cleared his throat. “…They’re great.”

“You’re not a theater person?” Ryuu asked, his eyebrow quirking up. “I wouldn’t have guessed! I’m glad you like the shows, dude!”

Io felt the need to say something—anything—rise in his chest, but he couldn’t find the words. He fumbled for something, fiddling with his wristwatch.

Ryuu filled the gap for him. After a moment’s hesitation, he said:

“Do you want to, like, hang out or something?”

“What?” Io knew his bewilderment was clear on his face.

“I just thought you seem like an interesting guy, Io.” Ryuu shrugged.

“I have work tomorrow—” Io almost rejected him, out of habit. “But I’m free this weekend, if you want to, do…something.”

“Sweet!” Ryuu took out his phone. The case was hot pink, and the little charms hanging off of it rang like bells. “Do you want to exchange numbers, then?”

Io fumbled with his briefcase, pulling out his phone. His contact list was full of clients, work associates—but then Ryuu put his name in, with a “( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/ “ emoticon next to it.

“Cool!” Ryuu exchanged phones with Io. “I’ll text you, dude! I have to get home, now, but it was really nice meeting you, Io!”

And then, in a flurry, Ryuu was gone. Io held his phone to his chest, Ryuu’s voice echoing Io’s name, again and again.

—

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

hey dude!! check out this cool butterfly thing!!

Io blinked. For a second, he was confused—before he realized. He’d given his number to Ryuu, and now Ryuu was texting him screenshots from the website of a butterfly pavilion. Io glanced around his office, even though he was clearly alone, before texting back.

I know of it.

He more than knew of it; his contributions practically built it. His name was front and center amongst the plaques of donators. He didn’t say any of that, though.

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

omg ur one of those people who texts all proper and stuff

LOL!!

ANYWAYS I was wonderinf if youd like to go

Despite his donations, Io never personally visited the pavilion. He quickly pulled up ticket prices on his computer, scanning the costs, weighing the risks—

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

its cool if u dont!!

I just always wanted to go and I thought

well!!

perfect time to try!!

Io looked down at his phone.

When would you like to go?

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

Really?? dude!! I’m SO glad you want to go!!

I don’t really care when tho, just anytime after 10 is good :D

I bought us tickets for 2PM

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

WOAH!! You didn’t have to do that for me!

but thanks :)

—

Io’s workday was suddenly…much more vibrant. Since giving his number to Ryuu, he found the other enjoyed sending inane, chatty texts about whatever crossed his mind. Io didn’t mind, of course—on the contrary, he couldn’t stop smiling at his phone, even if he was concerned Ryuu spent too much time glued to his. He didn’t hesitate telling Ryuu this, either, and he didn’t even mind when the response was a cheeky “:P”.

And somehow, texting Ryuu brightened not only Io’s mood, but the mood of his company, too. Io found himself venturing out of his office more often, smiling at his coworkers, stopping to chat a little more. He found himself seeking contact in a way he hadn’t realized he missed.

His work was still spectacular, of course. Io just…took some breaks from it every once in a while, stretched his legs, used the new coffeemaker in the break room.

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

do u want to meet me there or should I pick u up or are u picking me up or…?

I can pick you up, if that’s no bother.

I’ll be getting off work soon, anyways.

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

chill

I’ll be getting out of rehearsal, so u can jus pick me up at the theater :p

Io walked out to his car. He caught his own reflection in the rear view mirror: his work suit, his tie, his uncomfortable shoes. He sighed.

Do you mind if I stopped by my house to change? It won’t take me long.

Ryuu ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

Tht’s totally fine!!

Io drove home, quickly, and threw open his closet. Good lord…he hadn’t dressed casually for an embarrassingly long time. Io always liked dressing nice, even in high school—where other students tried to break dress code, Io found comfort in the uniform.

He found an old pair of darkwash jeans in the back of his closet, thankfully, and paired them with a white button-up shirt and a light, casual brown cardigan, and some brown loafers. They were on sale, and much, much more comfortable than his work shoes.

Io went back to his car, somehow feeling both overdressed and underdressed.

He drove up to the theater, seeing Ryuu chatting with a pair of girls. Ryuu was dressed well, from what Io could tell, though Io didn’t need to know fashion to at least have an opinion (he liked it). Ryuu had a fitted, black v-neck shirt, dark maroon skinny jeans with rips in the knees, short black boots, and a black and white checkered shirt tied around his waist.

Ryuu saw his car driving up and waved, quickly saying goodbye to the girls he was talking to before jogging up to the passenger side of Io’s car.

Io didn’t remember the last time someone sat in that seat. Usually, it was occupied by Io’s briefcase, or his lunch.

“Hey, what’s up?” Ryuu slid into the car easily.

Io didn’t know how to respond.

“My stocks are up today,” Io blurted. He was expecting laughter, or boredom. What normal twenty-something talked about stocks?

“Stocks?” Ryuu asked, curious, “You know, I just realized I have no idea what your job is—though I figured it was something, like, official, with all your nice suits and stuff.”

“I, yes, you could say that.” Usually, Io would be ready to preen, show off his success. But for some reason, he felt…nervous, around Ryuu. Ryuu, who texted him about cute pens from dollar stores and gleefully performed plays at a run-down theater like it was his life calling.

“Me, though? I’m just a manager at Pizza Hut. It’s not the best job in the world, but it helps pay for classes and stuff.”

“You’re in school? What are you studying?”

“Not sure yet, honestly. I, uh, had to take a gap to save up, and I hadn’t even decided in that time, so, here I am, undeclared major.” Ryuu chuckled nervously. “I need to make a choice, though. Nana wouldn’t be happy if I spent all that time just to not graduate with something.” Ryuu laughed. He talked about his Nana, before, in their texts. “Just a few days ago she sat me down and told me she’d be happy if I had a degree in horse cosmetology—just as long as I had a degree!”

Io couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, and from the corner of his eye, Ryuu beamed at him as if he’d done something amazing.

—

When they arrived at the pavilion, Io realized, with stark clarity—he hardly knew anything about Ryuu, aside from little snippets, and yet, they still somehow eased together as if they’d been best friends for years. Io wondered if that was just Ryuu’s personality, if he meshed with everyone, like the social butterfly he was.

Io laughed quietly at his own pun. Ryuu, of course, noticed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ah,” Io blushed, “It’s nothing. It’s silly…”

“Of course it’s silly! It made you laugh!” Ryuu stopped them next to a big bush of pink flowers. Butterflies fluttered around him, landing in his hair, only making Io giggle more. “Oh now you have to tell me—c’mon, Io!”

“Fine, fine…” Io braced himself. “I just thought, you’re like a social butterfly, and, you know, here we are, and here you are.” Io gestured to where the butterflies had settled in Ryuu’s hair.

Ryuu looked up, but of course, he couldn’t see on top of his own head. He smiled.

“You’re right; that is pretty silly.” Ryuu held a butterfly on his finger. He reached forward to place it on Io’s shoulder. “But I like silly! Say cheese!“

Before he knew it, Ryuu had taken out his phone and snapped a picture of him, unsuspecting.

“Now take one of me!” Ryuu pushed his phone into Io’s hands. The butterfly on Io’s shoulder flew away, but Io didn’t really notice.

It turned out, Ryuu loved taking pictures, lots and lots of pictures. It shouldn’t have been surprising, in hindsight. The pictures of Io Naruko tripled in that one day, not that he minded, not when Ryuu was so excited to show him the filter apps he had. Io wasn’t impressed by having dog ears, suddenly, but Ryuu found it hilarious, so Io let it slide.

Eventually they exited the pavilion, only after some workers coaxed the butterflies away from Ryuu with sugar water.

“I think they like my shampoo,” Ryuu said as they walked out. The pavilion was at the edge of a park, and Ryuu just…started walking. And Io walked with him. “That was really fun!”

“Yeah…it was.” Io couldn’t keep the smile from his voice.

He and Ryuu kept chatting, or, well, Ryuu mostly. Io added to the conversation much less, but still.

After a while, Ryuu saw something.

“Oh, dude! Ice-cream!” Ryuu started walking towards the ice-cream truck. “Let’s go get some!”

Io followed, a little more cautious. His eyes narrowed at the prices.

“These are…overpriced,” Io muttered.

“Yeah, well, you’re just getting one, right? It’s not that big of a deal.” Ryuu stood in line, Io hanging behind, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I mean—there’s…it’s useless, isn’t it? It’s expensive for no reason.”

“Dude, it isn’t useless.” Ryuu stopped looking at the menu, and instead looked Io in the eye, innocent, honest. “It’s not useless if it makes you happy, right?”

Happy. The statement was so…so simple. And all of a sudden, Io realized he hadn’t been taking his own happiness into account in his calculations. That’s why his condo had lamps he had to hit to make turn on, and sheets with holes in the corners, and that’s why his shoes didn’t fit quite right, and why he always declined invitations to his coworkers’ parties. Io hadn’t taken his own feelings into account in a long time. Not since he went back to the theater, since he kept going back to the theater even when seeing plays had no benefit to his work. Since he texted Ryuu in between lulls at work, and left his office to chat with Kurokawa and Takamatsu and whoever else he found loitering in the breakroom.

Io just stared at Ryuu. Oblivious Ryuu, who had no idea he just shattered Io’s entire world.

Io ordered a cookies and cream ice-cream bar.

—

“You want to go hang out at my place?” Ryuu asked. They both just finished their ice-cream.

“I—you can’t just invite me over, Ryuu! I don’t have a gift to bring!”

“Dude, you’re so old fashioned! It’s fine! Let’s just go hang out—I got a new game I’ve been itching to play.”

“….fine.”

Ryuu cheered.

—

Ryuu opened the door to his house and yelled:

“NANA! I’m home and I brought a friend!”

Io panicked.

“I didn’t bring a gift! Ryuu—please,” Io hissed. He wasn’t expecting to meet Ryuu’s beloved grandmother empty handed.

“A friend? A new one, again?” An older woman shuffled down the hallway, and Io’s heart thudded in his chest, even as he stiffened and tried to smooth the distress from his face.

“G-good afternoon, Ms. Zaou.” Io said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. Io had met with people as influential as gods, but they weren’t the grandmothers of his…his friends. “I apologize for showing up out of the blue like this. If I had time to prepare I would’ve brought a gift.”

“Oh! A polite one, he is! Ryuu—you could learn a thing or two from him!” Ryuu’s Nana laughed. “Just call me Nana, sweetheart, no need for formalities around here. Now what should I call you?”

“Nana, please…” Ryuu whined, “This is Io.”

“Oh! Is this the Io you’ve been talking about, Ryuu?” Nana Zaou smiled, just a little smugly, if Io wasn’t seeing things. “He’s much more handsome than you’ve made him out to be, Ryuu!”

“Nana!”

“I’m just teasing, dear. Now you two go along and have some fun, alright?”

“Okay, Nana!” Ryuu started pulling Io down the hall, his ears pink. Io had just barely toed off his shoes before he was being tugged along.

“Keep the door open, Ryuu! You know the rules!”

“NANA.” Ryuu sounded absolutely scandalized. And if that didn’t pull a laugh from Io…

Ryuu’s room was…well, exactly what Io was expecting, but that didn’t mean it…wasn’t more real, to be in there. Ryuu’s room was a little messy. His closet door was open, clothes strewn on the floor next to it—just like how Io’s looked at home, as if Ryuu had as much trouble with his outfit as Io had.

Ryuu turned on his TV and handed Io a game controller, which Io held in his hands with vague discomfort.

“What’s wrong? Has Mr. Stuffy never played a video game before?” Ryuu’s voice was teasing, joking, so he wasn’t expecting Io’s reply to be a shy shake of his head.

“You really haven’t?” Ryuu’s eyes widened. “Well, I think…the game I wanted to play might be a little advanced for you, grandpa. So I’ll start you off with something easy. Have you at least heard of Super Mario?”

Io’s head popped up. For some reason, he was expecting Ryuu to…he didn’t know…be weirded out or something, to kick him out. When he was young, Io never really had an interest in what his classmates were playing, and that lack of a….connection…always put a distance between Io and the other children.

Of course, he should’ve known Ryuu wouldn’t have been like that.

It was a grueling process, all things considered, to try and teach Io what video games were. But Ryuu smiled and nudged him forward and congratulated him when he finished a level, and Io felt warm and happy all over.

Soon, there was a knock at the (open) door, and Nana Zaou was standing in the doorway.

“I was thinking of ordering you boys some pizza,” she said, “Any requests?”

“Pizza?” Io blinked. “Um…just cheese is fine for me.”

“Meat lovers!” Ryuu cheered.

Nana Zaou told them she’d call them when the food arrived.

It was only after she walked out that Io noticed just how dark it had gotten outside. Ryuu whistled, apparently noticing this, too.

“Do you want to just crash here?” Ryuu asked, so, so casually, as if he wasn’t offering Io the first sleepover in his entire life.

“I…are you sure that’s okay?”

“Of course, dude!” Ryuu said, knocking Io’s shoulder with his own. “You’re like, the same size as me, so you can just borrow some pajamas. And we have extra toothbrushes. You know the big packs of plastic wrapped ones you get?”

“Where would I sleep?”

“Uh, I mean…my bed is pretty big,” Ryuu’s voice turned a little sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was thinking we’d play games until we passed out, but if you’re not comfortable with that, you can take the guest room.”

Io kind of stared, trying to process the information. He wondered how this could feel normal, if this was what he was missing out on, growing up. Eating junk food? Staying up playing games until he couldn’t keep his eyes open? It was…it sounded fun.

“Well, if the first option is more authentic to the sleepover experience…I might as well.”

It was surreal, in all honesty. Io was a grown man, and yet, here he was, planning a sleepover like a child…with a friend he’d only properly known for a week. He remembered hearing Kurokawa talk about her children, how they could run up to other kids at the park and decide they were best friends within the minute. Maybe that’s what Io was doing, now, making friends, and making up for lost time. He didn’t mind it.

They ate their pizza when it came, and Io checked his stocks every once in a while, offhandedly telling Ryuu about his company and how the stock market worked. He could tell Ryuu didn’t get all of it, but he was still interested. Io…liked teaching Ryuu. It felt like he was sharing a part of himself, the thing he was good at, and Ryuu approved.

Eventually, the medium half-and-half pizza was devoured, and washed down with bubbly soda that left Ryuu burping between his sentences. And Io saved the Princess. Ryuu vowed to introduce him to more games, and asked him to pick between Kirby and Zelda. Both of the characters on the covers reminded Io of Ryuu, so he had a hard time picking. He eventually went with Kirby, though.

They played and talked until Nana Zaou told them she was going to bed and turned off their lights, and for hours after that. They played until Ryuu started to slouch onto Io’s shoulder. Io hadn’t…well, he hadn’t noticed how touchy Ryuu was—it just seemed so natural for Ryuu. Throughout the day, he grabbed at Io’s arm, his sleeve, touched his wrist, slung his arm over Io’s shoulder. Io wasn’t…he didn’t like people touching him.

He was quickly learning that Ryuu was an exception for a lot of things.

Io was the one to turn the game off and suggest they watch a movie.

Ryuu stood and stretched. His spine popped, and Io grimaced at the sound, much to Ryuu’s amusement. Ryuu tossed the TV remote to Io and told him to pick something from Netflix while Ryuu got them some pajamas.

Io browsed lazily. He wasn’t a movie person, so he wasn’t sure what would be…good. He ended up picking a title he’d seen recommended several times on Ryuu’s account.

Ryuu tossed some fabric at him.

“The bathroom is down the hall, but, uh, don’t take too long.” Ryuu looked away, “I kind of have to use it.”

Io laughed.

The pajamas Ryuu gave him didn’t match. Some sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt for a band Io had never heard of. The fabric was soft and well-worn. The pants were just a little too baggy around his hips, and he had to tug the string tighter. He looked in the mirror, and looking back, Io didn’t see a CEO, a busy executive, someone with more money than he knew what to do with.

Io just saw…someone young.

Io left the bathroom and found Ryuu tugging on a tanktop. Io blinked, his brain short circuiting with the sight of Ryuu’s bare shoulders, even for the split second he saw them.

“You picked a good one!” Ryuu said. “You can chill here; I’ll be right back.”

Io sat on the bed gingerly. Ryuu wasn’t long, thankfully, and they watched the movie.

Io couldn’t stop making comments, usually pointing out fallacies in the plot, and thankfully, Ryuu seemed to be the same way—pointing out costumes he liked, acting things he saw, trivia he knew.

Another movie was recommended to them, and Ryuu just clicked onto it without thinking.

“How can you just watch a movie without knowing anything about it?” Io asked.

“It’s just a movie. I might not have picked it if I was thinking about it.” Ryuu shrugged. “If it’s good, then it’s good. If it’s not, then we can make fun of it.”

They eventually were recommended a K-drama Ryuu had binged two summers before. Ryuu tried to sleepily explain the plot while they watched, dipping in and out of consciousness.

Again, Io was the one to turn off the TV. He told Ryuu it would save electricity.

“That’s fine.” Ryuu yawned. “We can just talk until we fall asleep, then.”

Ryuu moved to get under the blankets, tucking them up under his shoulders. He looked up at Io expectantly. Io, hesitated, before throwing caution to the wind and getting under the blankets, too. He and Ryuu faced each other.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ryuu said, his voice suddenly quiet, as if hushed by the blankets.

“Um, sure…” Io replied.

“I wanted to talk to you since I saw you in the audience the first night,” Ryuu whispered, “I was too nervous, though, the first few times, ‘cause you looked so cool and professional.”

“Oh…” Io swallowed. “I…uh…I only came back because of you. Your acting was…well.” Io closed his eyes. “I was always devoted to my job. I only bought that first ticket because it was cheap; I didn’t even think I would like the show—but then I saw you on stage and I…” Io looked at Ryuu, trying to get across what he felt, that first night. “I felt something. I hadn’t felt something like that in a long time.”

“A long time? You’re so young, though…”

“I am, but it was a long time nonetheless. Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“I didn’t realize…I didn’t realize how much I was missing before I met you.” Io smiled, a little self-deprecating, a little sad. “I never did anything just because. I was always running risk-benefit calculations in my head, for everything I did. And then I met you, and I got ice-cream and played video games and saw plays and talked to my coworkers just because.”

“I…wow…Io,” Ryuu’s voice was breathless. “I don’t think my side is as impressive as yours, but…you make me want to be better. Like, I know that doesn’t make any sense, but you’re so put together and I want to be like that, instead of an aimless college kid. But you’re also really, like, sheltered, in a way, and I want to be better for that, too. I want to show you all those things you didn’t let yourself do, like video games and, you know…It seems crazy because we, like, just met, but…I don’t know…you just…feel right for me, I guess…”

“I know what you mean.”

Ryuu just smiled at him. And there was a sort of tension in the air, not bad, just there. Like there was something they hadn’t said, out of all the things they said.

But it felt like enough, for them, for now. And they didn’t know who fell asleep first…

…but they both woke up to Nana Zaou slamming two pans together to announce breakfast.

—

After the impromptu sleepover, Ryuu convinced Io to drive them back to his condo in his borrowed pajamas.

“You can just change at your place! That way you don’t have to wear the clothes you wore yesterday— and I can see your house!”

“Ah, there it is, your real motivation.”

Ryuu just stuck his tongue out at Io.

“Woah, dude, this place is nice, but it looks a little…lonely.” Ryuu looked around with a small frown. “You should get a plant. Oooh, and some new curtains. And couches to go with the curtains—”

“Maybe I should just get dressed first.”

Ryuu ended up talking Io into buying new curtains, and gleefully dragged him through the home goods store in the mall.

And then dragging him through the rest of the mall.

Ryuu, for all his flashy tastes, also understood Io’s frugality, and didn’t push him into buying the most expensive things. Though he did want Io to find something he liked, not just something that was the cheapest.

They also ended up getting Io new shoes, because even Ryuu noticed how uncomfortable Io’s work shoes were on him. Which was strange, because…

“I never saw you after the plays were over. How did you see me walking in my work shoes?”

“Uh…I may have…watched you a few times, from behind the curtains…”

“You’re saying you were shy?” Io tried to hold back his smile.

“I told you last night I was!”

“You always looked so confident on stage,” Io replied, “I didn’t think it was all that true.”

“Well, on stage is different,” Ryuu explained, “I’m playing a character, with all the parts planned out already. I know what’s gonna happen to that character, so I don’t have to stress. It’s different with people; much more improv.”

They ate chilli-fries from the food court, and Io refused to let Ryuu buy anything, even when Ryuu tried to be sneaky about paying.

Io dropped Ryuu off at home, and when he got back to his condo, he found a little toy cactus hidden in one of his bags. Io smiled.

—

Ryuu kept buying him things after that, too. Little knickknacks, wall art, throw pillows. They were always cheap enough that Io didn’t feel bad about accepting them, and just colorful enough to give Io’s neat, functional little condo a bit more life to it.

Their texting tripled, as did the pictures Ryuu sent, and the plans they made.

Io was going out more, and more often. And he saw Ryuu’s shows just as often.

He saw Ryuu in Xanadu and Les Miserables before his coworkers said anything about it.

“We’re glad you’re getting out more, sir,” Takamatsu said kindly. He was always worried about Io’s health, always suggesting for him to try the newest health food or vitamin pill. “Whoever she is, she makes you very happy.”

“She?” Io said, puzzled.

“Oh!” Takamatsu colored. “Apologies, sir—it’s just, ah, the rumor mill had been saying you had a new girlfriend is all. Now there’s nothing wrong if it’s really a new boyfriend —”

“It’s not like that! He’s just a friend,” Io cut off Takamatsu before someone else could overhear, but knowing the man, the word would be out before lunch.

“Well, whoever he is, we’d all love to meet him!”

—

The theater was given a generous, anonymous donation.

With the way Claudius—or, Mr. Nakai—smiled at him knowingly the next time Io came in for a show, sitting in his new, refurbished seat, Io was sure his donation wasn’t as anonymous as he expected.

Especially with the way Ryuu had come barreling into him after the second performance of Grease, his hair still slicked back in that incredibly charming style, at least in Io’s opinion.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a bigshot CEO!” Ryuu said, after sweeping Io up into a hug.

“I didn’t try to keep it a secret…”

“Yeah, but you let me, Pizza Hut manager, totally think you just had a normal desk job!” Ryuu’s voice was playfully frustrated, like he wasn’t really angry at all. “Your net worth is through the roof! And you were the third most eligible bachelor four years ago—how do I not remember that! I still have that same magazine!”

“To be fair, I forgot about the bachelor thing, too.”

—

Eventually, finally, Io brought Ryuu to a work party.

They were celebrating a successful merger of one of their sister companies, and the party was a casual, daytime, family friendly affair. They’d gotten into the habit after Io joined the company, fresh-faced, and quickly worked his way up. He’d been too young to drink, but he was well-liked for his good manners and work ethic, so they tried to keep him engaged. The habit stuck around because Io encouraged the “no hangover” part, and his coworkers appreciated being able to bring their children. Even if those children were, in some cases, old enough to be Io’s mother, and they were really looking out for the grandchildren.

Ryuu was a big hit, of course, the social butterfly he was, and hit it off with everyone.

“You two are good for each other,” Kurokawa mused, “I wish you two the best, we all do, really!”

“Yeah, I…I’m lucky to have met him.”

—

After that, Io was properly introduced to Ryuu’s acting buddies. Unlike the PG work party he brought Ryuu to, Io had tagged along to a casual after party to celebrate the end of a successful play.

With the renovations to the theater, they’d started pulling in more crowds. It also helped that Io had finally become comfortable enough to recommend the theater to his coworkers.

“You know, Ryuu used to be the biggest flirt,” Yukie said offhandedly. Ryuu was off getting them drinks, and Io felt Yukie had waited until Ryuu was gone to say this. “If he wasn’t at a cast party, he was out on a date. A different person every time—” Person? Something in Io thought the phrasing was important. “—but then you come along and, well…he seems more confident in himself. You’ve really helped him.” Yukie smiles at him.

“Not to mention, he never stops talking about you.” Yukie pitched her voice down to mimic Ryuu, “Io just took me out here. I told Io to get that new jacket; doesn’t it look nice on him ? Io really liked the show. Io Io Io.” Yukie dropped the voice. “You know, that night he finally got the guts to talk to you? He told us to stop you if you tried to leave before he was ready—he wanted to talk to you that badly.”

Io looked over at Ryuu, who held their drinks in his hands, even as he was distracted talking to his costar and her sister.

“But, yeah, he hasn’t been on any dates like he used to. Unless, you know…outings to butterfly pavilions, fro-yo, and amusement parks don’t count as dates…” Yukie’s voice went playfully sing-song, and it took only a second before her implications sunk in.

Io blushed, but quickly forgot his embarrassment the second Ryuu came back.

—

It had been the best year of Io’s life, truly. He wouldn’t change a single thing—but…

“Ryuu…” Io asked. Ryuu’s head was tucked against Io’s shoulder. They were lounging on the couch they picked out together a month prior. Ryuu hummed.

“Have we…been dating this whole time?” Io felt the way Ryuu stiffened up against his side. Io thought about…what he thought he was making up, all of those hesitations, the looks, the way Ryuu would grin shyly whenever Io would imply how he wanted to be with Ryuu for years—because in such a short time, Ryuu had become that important to him.

“That depends on if you want to be…” Ryuu mumbled, burying his face against Io’s side.

“What would it change if I said yes?”

Ryuu’s lips curled into a smile against Io’s arm.

“Well, we practically live together, at this point. Half of my clothes are over here. You take me on dates. My Nana loves you. Your mom loves me. And you’re thinking of naming the Pomeranian we want to get ‘Yen,’” Ryuu listed, “I think the only thing would change would be the amount of kisses I can get from you…and other things…if you’re okay with that.”

“Hey Ryuu?”

Ryuu untucked his head from against Io. “Yeah?”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

Ryuu’s smile was absolutely blinding.

“You want to start with the kissing thing, now? Because frankly I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long, and if I have to wait another minute I’m gonna explode.”

Io cleared his throat, suddenly shy. Ryuu’s eyes were so bright, and Io couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away, but as Ryuu slowly began to lean closer, Io found his own eyes slipping shut.

The kiss was chaste, and sweet, and sent Io’s heart into a frenzy of butterflies. He felt Ryuu smile against his mouth, and he didn’t have to do a single calculation to know that every risk he took with Ryuu was absolutely perfect.

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #ioryuu #zaou ryuu #naruko io #queenofthefaces #kira-7 #fanfic #submission

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boueibu-valentines · 6 years

Text

A Day at the Fair

Creator: @silvormoon Recipient: @kinatsuaddict17 Title: A Day at the Fair Characters/Pairings: Kinshiro/Atsushi Summary: Kinshiro regrets all the time he’s wasted spending time apart from Atsushi. When the school principal assigns him with overseeing a booth at the town fair, he sees an opportunity to recapture some of those lost childhood moments. Comment: This ended up really long so I am submitting this in two parts. This is part 1.

———-

Kinshiro took the first sip of his morning tea, gazed out at his garden, and thought, There really is no place like home.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed his stay overseas. There was definitely something to be said for visiting new places and broadening one’s horizons. It was just that in his heart, he knew that Binan would always be his true home, and now he was happy to be back again. He’d arrived home three days ago, and now his jet lag had mostly faded and his long-neglected work as Council President was more or less caught up, and he was really beginning to feel like he was back in his groove.

A pity I’ll be leaving again before too very much longer. His family expected him to go to college, so of course he would, but then he would come home and start working in the family business where he belonged.

His ruminations were interrupted by the sound of his cell phone blipping, announcing that he’d gotten a text message. He snatched it up.

Good morning, Kinchan! Are you walking to school with us today?

Kinshiro smiled. The message was sprinkled with smiley faces and other electronic flotsam. From anyone else, the informality would have annoyed him. Coming from Atsushi…

It really is good to be home.

He ended up meeting Atsushi on the corner where their two routes to school intersected. It still felt strange, walking to school with Atsushi and his friends. He strolled along, saying little, just enjoying listening to the sound of the others chattering and marveling at how things changed. There had been a time when seeing Atsushi at a distance would be enough to ruin his mood for hours afterwards. Now he walked beside him and thought that he had never been so happy to look at another human being.

“You look far away,” Atsushi remarked, as they reached the school gates. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” said Kinshiro, “that I wouldn’t mind going through another three years of high school if it meant we could go on walking to school together.”

Atsushi put an arm around his shoulders. “I know what you mean. But we’ll have lots of free time when we’re in college, and we’ll be able to see each other on holidays. It’s not like we have to say goodbye forever once we graduate.”

“I know,” said Kinshiro.

Still, he thought, as he reached his classroom and settled into his desk, as much as he was looking forward to the future, he still couldn’t help regretting that he’d wasted so much time in the past. All those years, he could have been spending every day with Atsushi. Now his childhood was nearly over, and he’d never get those carefree days back.

He was still musing on this bittersweet thought when a voice came over the school intercom.

“Will Kusatsu Kinshiro please report to the office? Kusatsu Kinshiro, you’re wanted in the principal’s office…”

Everyone turned to stare at Kinshiro, as people tended to do in these circumstances. Someone in the back of the room stage-whispered, “Did the president break a rule?” and a few others snickered. Kinshiro ignored them.

“Teacher, may I be excused?” he asked.

The teacher graciously waved him away. The professor’s expression suggested he felt it was less likely for Kinshiro to be in any sort of trouble than for the principal to want to consult with him on some weighty matter. Kinshiro couldn’t begin to guess what he was being summoned for, but had a vague thought that it might have something to do with his overseas trip, or possibly preparations for graduation. He left the classroom feeling calm but puzzled.

The principal greeted him cheerfully.

“Ahh, Kusatsu-kun. Please have a seat,” he said. He was a cheerful, rosy-cheeked, bright eyed little man. Kinshiro had always had mixed feelings about him. He was a likeable man, always affable and willing to listen. On the other hand, he tended to be a little more lax than Kinshiro felt was strictly right, and he could never figure out how to bring it up. Kinshiro was not a man to question authority figures, even when he privately felt they deserved it.

“Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?” he asked instead.

“Yes, indeed,” said the principal. “As I’m sure you know, Binan’s annual spring festival is coming up.”

Kinshiro nodded. He knew this very well, having attended it for several years until he’d reached the point where he considered himself too old for such silliness.

No, be honest with yourself. You started staying home and sulking because you knew Atsushi would be there with Yufuin.

Still, he couldn’t help but be aware of it. It was held every year in early spring, temporarily taking over the city park. Kinshiro had a shrewd notion that it wasn’t celebrating anything in particular, save for a need to entice more tourists into the city once a year, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. There were always lots of carnival games, food booths, and entertainers there, and in the last few years it had expanded to include a couple of bouncy castles and some organized games like three-legged races to entertain the kids.

“One of our school’s proud traditions,” the principal said, “is to sponsor a booth at the festival. This year, I am counting on you to oversee the details.”

“What would it entail?” Kinshiro asked.

“Just choosing four or five reliable students to set it up and run it, and to supervise the setup and purchasing of prizes,” the principal replied. “You’ll be given discretionary funds for the purchasing of the prizes, of course. The stall and its trappings should be in the shed on the northwest corner of the grounds. I’ll give you the key.”

Suiting action to words, he fished a key ring out of his desk and handed Kinshiro a small key. Kinshiro slipped it into his breast pocket.

“I’ll expect regular updates,” the principal let on. “Report back in a day or two and let me know who you’ve selected to run the booth, and speak to my secretary about the money.”

“Of course, sir,” said Kinshiro. His voice was placid as ever, but inside, he was starting to feel excited about the project. Not that he actually wanted to spend the day sitting at a booth listening to little children wailing because they hadn’t won a prize, but…

“Excellent,” said the principal. “I know I can count on you. Now, off you go. No starting work on the booth until after class!”

Kinshiro agreed that his studies came first and excused himself. He had a brief chat with the secretary, accepted a check and a stern warning to keep all the receipts for anything he bought with it, and set off toward his classroom. His mind, however, was no longer on his lessons.

For all its inconveniences, this was still a perfect opportunity. He could invite Atsushi to work on the booth. They could set it up together, man it together for a while, and then explore the festival. It would be a way to make up for some of that lost time. It might even make up for the disastrous way the school festival had turned out.

When the lunch bell rang, Kinshiro sought Atsushi out at once.

“A moment of your time?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Atsushi. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” he replied. “It’s presumptuous, I know, but I need someone I can rely on, and, well… I know you’re reliable.”

Atsushi appeared touched. “I’ll help if I can. What do you need?”

“The principal wants me to run a booth at the spring festival,” said Kinshiro. “I need some helpers. Would you be willing to…?”

To his relief, Atsushi beamed.

“Of course! That sounds like fun,” said Atsushi. He grinned a charmingly sheepish grin. “To tell the truth, I get kind of embarrassed going to the spring fair like all the little kids, but it will be okay if I’m there for a reason. Will we have to work the whole day?”

Kinshiro shook his head. “No, I was thinking I’d ask a few other people, so we could take shifts. I’m sure Arima wouldn’t mind, but I haven’t decided who else to ask. Perhaps your friend Naruko? He seems very responsible.”

Atsushi laughed. “Not unless you were prepared to pay him. He never works for freeWhat about Yumoto?”

“Hakone Yumoto?” Kinshiro blinked. The words “responsible” and “Yumoto” didn’t go together in his mind.

“Don’t underestimate him,” said Atsushi. “He helps his brother run the bathhouse, don’t forget. He’s used to working a cash register and handling money, and he’s great with kids. I know he seems kind of flighty, but when he takes on a responsibility, he takes it seriously.”

“Hm. Well, you would know,” said Kinshiro dubiously. “I suppose he’d be all right with Arima there to keep an eye on him.”

Atsushi smiled. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan, then.”

We. Kinshiro liked the sound of that. He smiled.

“I’m looking forward to it already.”

*******

Atsushi had seen the storage shed many times, but somehow it had never occurred to him that he might want to look inside it. He was vaguely aware of the sorts of things people kept in sheds - lawnmowers, hedge clippers, water hoses, things of that nature - and none of them had ever seemed like they had anything to do with him. Perhaps, he reflected, if he’d had more of a spirit of adventure, he might have worked up some curiosity about what else might be in there. He watched as Kinshiro took out the little gray key and slipped it into the lock.

I wonder why he asked me, he mused, as the door creaked open. He knew he was a reliable worker, but so were lots of other people in school, some of whom would actually have a bit of star appeal at a public event. If it had been him, he might have been tempted to choose someone like the star of the soccer team, or the boy from the drama club who’d already been offered a role in an upcoming radio drama. Instead, he’d chosen a nobody from the Earth Defense Club, the school joke. He’d said it was because he knew he could rely on Atsushi. After years of believing the exact opposite, Kinshiro was putting his faith in Atsushi once again.

I’d better not let him down.

He followed Kinshiro into the shed. It was bigger than he’d first realized. On the outside, it had been screened by trees and shrubs, making it hard to see more than the front. Now he realized that while it wasn’t very wide, it extended a long way back. It was dim, but light filtered through vents near the ceiling. It smelled of dust and wood shavings and just a hint of mice. Kinshiro sneezed.

“There sure is a lot of junk in here,” said Atsushi, looking around. There were, as he’d suspected, several lawn mowers of various shapes and sizes, along with all the other odds and ends used to keep the grounds neat. There were also various sorts of sporting equipment - the rollers used to chalk a playing field, some disassembled soccer nets and movable basketball hoops, stacks of hurdles and vaulting boxes - and some of the decorations that had been dragged out for the school fair. Some of the other items were harder to place. Atsushi looked at a panel of what might have been scenery from a long-ago play, a rather ugly piece of statuary, and a heap of assorted woven baskets.

“I think they just tossed in anything that was too big to fit anywhere else,” said Kinshiro. He blew dust off of an unidentified gray box. “I think this is a cash box. It’s still got keys wired to it. That’s a start.”

“Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?” Atsushi asked. He tugged at a tarp and studied the object underneath. “A spotlight. Do you think this belongs to the drama department, or do the athletes use it for night games?”

Kinshiro ignored the question, which was fine since Atsushi hadn’t expected an answer. “I believe it’s some sort of dart-toss game. The secretary said we would need to buy balloons out of our budget.”

Atsushi went burrowing among some stacks of plywood and two-by fours. Some of the wood near the bottom bore traces of paint, and when Atsushi shoved a bundle of boards out of the way, he could just make out a few letters painted on it: “TRY YOUR LUCK!”

“I think this could be it,” he said. “Help me get this junk out of the way.”

The two of them hauled industriously, until at last their treasure had been unearthed. The booth consisted of several wooden panels, designed to be easily fitted together and pulled apart again by means of a clever arrangement of pegs and holes. After a few false starts, they managed to work out which bits went where. By the time they were finished, they were both dusty and sweaty, but pleased. They sat back on a pair of old coolers to admire their work.

“It’s a bit dusty,” said Kinshiro. He had taken off his uniform jacket, and his usually sleek hair was sticking together in sweaty clumps. His shirt was sweaty and dusty too, clinging to his back and chest. Atsushi had to resist the urge to stare. Kinshiro was always handsome, but this rumpled, disheveled look…

“I suppose we could clean it,” said Atsushi, pulling his mind back to more relevant topics. “Maybe touch up the paint a little.”

“We probably should,” Kinshiro agreed. “We’ve got a week before the festival, so if we met up on the weekend…”

“I’m free,” said Atsushi quickly. He’d been planning on hanging out with En and doing a little shopping, but… well, this was important, wasn’t it? Surely he could fit it in somewhere. “We should make some plans about buying the prizes, too.”

“You should probably be the one to decide that,” said Kinshiro. “I’m not sure I’d know what a suitable prize would be.”

“You should help pick them out anyway,” said Atsushi. “We could go shopping together and then… I don’t know, maybe get dinner somewhere afterwards.”

Now, where had that come from? He hadn’t had a meal alone with Kinshiro for years, not since they were little boys buying snacks from street vendors together.

Did it sound like I was asking him on a date? I hope he doesn’t think I was asking him on a date. I don’t want to make things awkward, not when everything is going so well…

But Kinshiro’s face had lit up like the sun coming out behind a cloud.

“I’d enjoy that very much,” he said. “Perhaps we could go to Kinoko?”

Atsushi considered only a moment. Kinoko was a moderately nice restaurant - very traditionally Japanese, a bit out of the way of the tourist traffic. It was just barely within Atsushi’s budget, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t splurge just a little for Kinshiro’s sake.

“I’d like that,” he said. He laughed a little. “I suppose you must have missed real home cooking while you were in England.”

“I really did,” said Kinshiro. “You’d have liked it, though. They serve a lot of curry in England.”

Atsushi laughed. “That doesn’t sound so bad, now that you mention it. If you ever go back, you should take me along so I can try it.”

“Perhaps I will,” said Kinshiro thoughtfully. Then he shook his head, pulling himself from whatever daydream he’d been wrapped up in. “But first, we need to do something about this stall. Help me haul it outside. I’ll call someone to come help me get it loaded into a car. We can store it in my garage until we need it.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Atsushi. He got reluctantly to his feet. It had been nice to just sit there and chat. Still, Kinshiro was never one to slack when there was work to be done.

Together, they manhandled the booth out into the schoolyard and gathered up all the odds and ends that came with it. It was indeed a dart-tossing game, consisting of a cork backboard on which numerous hooks had been hung. The idea seemed to be that prize tickets would be suspended from the hooks and balloons hung in front of them to obscure them, so that when the balloon popped the prize would be revealed. A lot of little cards with numbers printed on them had turned up in the bag with the darts that looked like they would fit on the hooks, and could presumably be rearranged at will so the crowds didn’t learn where the best prizes were hidden. Atsushi wondered about the wisdom of working at a booth where people would be throwing pointy objects in his general direction, but he supposed it was probably too late to back out now.

“We should go to the baths after this,” he said aloud. “The others might even still be there.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Kinshiro. “Even if they aren’t there, we could still go.”

Atsushi thought about being alone in the bath with Kinshiro. The fact that he was willing to visit the Kurotama at all was still so new to Atsushi that it still amazed him to think about. Before now, though, there had always been someone else there with them - usually En, often the rest of the Defense Club, sometimes the rest of the Student Council. It had never been just the two of them before. The thought made him feel oddly fluttery inside.

“We should still do that,” he agreed.

Kinshiro smiled at him. The light of the setting sun gilded his silvery hair and outlined the delicate lines of his face. Atsushi felt his throat go tight.

That was the moment he realized his life was about to get a lot more complicated. His friends had teased him often about the dramatically fraught relationship between the Student Council president and their own club’s reluctant leader, calling them boyfriends and joking about their “lover’s quarrel”, but he’d always laughed and shrugged it off. He and Kinshiro were just friends, that was all. They had missed each other. They had a lot of catching up to do. Of course they were always happy to see each other, and wanted to spend every moment they could together. Of course Atsushi felt a thrill every time he received a text message from Kinshiro or saw him smile just for him…

Looks like they were right after all.

******

Kinshiro strolled along the sidewalk, arms full of shopping bags, and reflected that today had been a good day.

He had gotten up early, and he and the rest of the festival crew had gotten to work making the booth look like something other than a thing that had been buried in a dusty shed for a year. Arima, of course, had been only too flattered at being asked to help. Kinshiro been amazed at how right Atsushi had been about Yumoto: once he’d understood what was wanted of him, he’d scrubbed harder than anyone to get the booth looking sparkling clean and ready for a coat of paint. Perhaps working at a bathhouse all his life had given him an affinity for scrubbing. He hadn’t been able to avoid getting white paint all over himself while they touched up the scuffed and discolored boards, but steadier heads and hands had assured that the finished product looked at least halfway professional. In fact, Kinshiro had been quite pleased with how it had turned out. With some flags and bunting hung on it, it would be as handsome a booth as anything at the festival.

Now he and Atsushi were strolling along side by side after a successful afternoon of shopping. Atsushi had located a party supply store that sold inexpensive gewgaws for people to use as decorations or party favors. Kinshiro had not previously been aware that such a thing existed in this city, and had wandered in great bemusement up and down the aisles, too overwhelmed by the number and variety of gimcrack plastic objects to think very sensibly about which might make good prizes for their booth. It had been up to Atsushi to fill their bags with flower crowns, miniature plush toys, tiny water guns, glow stick jewelry, and other objects that would delight the heart of a child or lighthearted adult.

“That was a lot of fun,” Atsushi remarked, swinging his bags at his side. “They had some neat stuff in there, didn’t they?”

“They did. I was actually a bit surprised,” Kinshiro admitted. “I wonder what the school will do with anything we don’t give away as prizes?”

Atsushi grinned. “Maybe they’ll let us keep some! That would be fun.”

Kinshiro admitted that it would. He normally would not have agreed to coveting anything that wasn’t up to his high aesthetic standards, but there was something about these small, brightly colored objects that appealed to the more primitive parts of his brain. Anyway, glow-sticks were fascinating.

They reached the restaurant. It was an unassuming little building, painted in shades of brown and off-white suitable to its name. Beside the front door hung an oval signboard depicting a cluster of variously-shaped mushrooms growing from a patch of leafy ground, with Kinoko painted beneath it in elegant script. It would be easy to walk past it and assume it was a florist, or an art gallery, or anything but what it was. The locals knew it, and anyone who wasn’t a local found out by word of mouth or didn’t find it at all. Atsushi smiled as they drew near.

“Do you remember,” he asked, “when we had your birthday party here?”

“I do,” Kinshiro admitted. “That was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“I thought it was kind of amazing,” said Atsushi. “Other little kids asked for hamburgers or pizza or ice cream on their birthdays, but you wanted to be like the grown-ups.”

“You must have been bored,” said Kinshiro.

“I was never bored,” said Atsushi.

A hostess greeted them pleasantly and showed them to their table. Atsushi began looking over the menu. Kinshiro pretended to, but he already knew what it said and had his order ready in his mind. He was happier watching the thoughtful expression on Atsushi’s face as he considered the options.

“It’s nice of you to say so,” said Kinshiro. “That you weren’t bored, I mean. When it was your birthday, you always wanted to go to the amusement park or the arcade.”

“And you wanted to go to nice restaurants and book stores and museums,” said Atsushi. “I remember one time we went to an actual tea house and went through the whole ceremony. You were so excited about it. I remember how you talked about it for days afterwards.”

“I suppose I was a strange child,” said Kinshiro. He could feel his face warming. He hadn’t realized that Atsushi retained so many embarrassing childhood recollections.

To his surprise, Atsushi smiled and placed a hand over his.

“Kinchan has always been Kinchan,” he said.

Kinshiro spluttered. “Atchan! What a thing to say.”

“It’s true, though. I mean, you’ve always been the way you are,” said Atsushi. “That makes me happy. I wouldn’t want to find out you’d turned into someone I didn’t know while we were apart.”

He settled back in his chair, looking thoughtful. Kinshiro wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or sorry that Atsushi had taken his hand away.

“I always thought you were fascinating,” he said. “You were always a little different from the other kids. You seemed so smart and mature… I was really flattered that you chose to spend time with me. Maybe that’s part of why I didn’t fight harder when you pulled away. I felt like maybe I wasn’t good enough for you, and it was only natural you’d figure it out sooner or later and go find some friends who were on your level.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Kinshiro blurted. “You know it wasn’t like that.”

“I know,” said Atsushi. “But I didn’t know that then.”

“I always thought you were special, too, you know,” said Kinshiro. He fidgeted with his napkin, unable to meet Atsushi’s gaze for the moment. “Everyone else always seemed to think I was weird or a snob, but you made me feel like a normal person. I stopped feeling that way after you were gone. I suppose that’s why everything went wrong afterwards.”

Atsushi smiled gently and patted Kinshiro’s hand again.

“It’s not going to be like that anymore,” he said.

Kinshiro mustered a smile. “No, it won’t.”

A waiter floated over to beam down on them.

“Good evening,” he said. “Are you ready to order, or do you need some more time?”

“I know what I want,” said Kinshiro.

And it was true: he knew exactly what he wanted. Looking at Atsushi smiling across from him, looking happy and at peace in Kinshiro’s company, he knew that <I>this</I> was what he wanted. He wanted the two of them to be together forever, just as they had promised each other they would all those years ago. He wanted to go on feeling like the world was a good and wholesome place and that he belonged in it, in that way that only Atsushi had ever been able to make him feel. He had known that a long time ago. The difference now was that the first time they’d promised to be together, they had been children, with only a hazy idea of the kinds of things the future might bring. Now he was nearly grown up, watching the end of his school days and the beginning of his adult life come speeding towards him, and what he wanted went beyond childhood trips to the arcade.

In short, what he wanted was for Atsushi to love him the way he loved Atsushi, and he had no idea if that was even possible anymore. Could he ask that, of someone who he had tried to kill only a few months ago? They had worked so hard even to rebuild a functioning friendship. He wasn’t sure he dared to ask for more. He didn’t really think he deserved it.

He rattled off his order by rote. Atsushi said, “That sounds good. I think I’d like the same as him.” Would you? Kinshiro mused. I wonder…

******

It was a perfect day for a festival. Atsushi got up early and headed out to the fairgrounds while the sun was still creeping over the horizon. He didn’t really mind - there was a nip in the early spring air that made him glad he’d brought his jacket, but some of the flowers were already starting to bloom, creating delicate touches of color amid the early morning mist that echoed the pink and rose of the cloud-dappled dawn sky. For that, it was worth getting up early. He reached the park and found Kinshiro, Arima, and the Hakone brothers already there and setting things up.

“Morning, all,” he called out. “I see we’ve got some extra help.”

“Anchan wanted to see our booth,” said Yumoto proudly. “He says I did a good job painting!”

Atsushi smiled, recalling how Yumoto had ended up with paint on his clothes, face, hands, and hair by the end of the exercise.

“You certainly gave it your all,” he agreed. “What can I do to help?”

Arima handed him a heavy-duty stapler. “Start hanging up some of the streamers. We’ve almost got the main part of the booth set up.”

Kinshiro smiled a little. “Which is to say Mr. Hakone just picked all the pieces up and slotted them in place like so many building blocks.”

“Just trying to be helpful,” said Gora. “Anyway, if you don’t need me anymore, I’m heading back to work. You guys enjoy the fair.”

“I hope you’ll get a chance to enjoy it too,” said Atsushi.

“No worries,” said Gora. “The twins promised to take over the front desk around lunchtime so I can come over for a while. Maybe I’ll even try my luck with the balloons.”

He sauntered off, leaving the remaining four workers to put on the finishing touches. Atsushi hung up their supply of streamers and ribbons, while Yumoto busily filled balloons and Arima hung up the prize tags. Once each balloon was filled, they were passed on to Kinshiro, who fastened each one in place. Atsushi finished with his decorating and started arranging the prizes temptingly on shelves along either side of the booth. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to get everything into place. When everything was finally done, they all stood back to admire the effect.

“It looks quite nice, if I do say so myself,” Arima observed.

“We did great,” Yumoto agreed. “Hey, can I play now?”

Atsushi smiled. “Go right ahead. Have you got some money?”

Yumoto handed over a few coins, and everyone stood back to let him have his throw. He hurled the dart apparently without aiming, but it struck an orange balloon dead-center with a satisfying <I>pop</I>! Atsushi laughed.

“Good throw!” he said. “You got a two, so that means you can have anything off this shelf here.”

Yumoto accepted one of the little plush toys.

“I’m gonna play again later and win one of the big ones!” he asserted. “Hey, Arima-sempai, are you going to play?”

“Not just yet,” he said. “I’d like to look around a little first. Unless you need me for anything else?”

“No, go on and have fun,” said Kinshiro. “Just remember to come back when it’s time to change shifts.”

“You can count on me,” said Arima. He turned to Yumoto. “So, shall we explore the fair together for a while?”

Yumoto agreed enthusiastically, and the two of them set out into the rapidly swelling crowd.

“I think it’s going to be a good day,” said Atsushi, fetching a new toy to replace the one Yumoto had won.

It did indeed look like the beginning of a fine day. The mist had burned away, and the day was now clear and sunny. Dozens of other booths had begun springing up, and the air was already full of the scent of good things cooking as the snack stands prepared for business. Someone just out of sight was playing music over a loudspeaker. The crowds were trickling in, and everyone seemed to be looking forward to a good time.

“I think it will be,” Kinshiro agreed.

Atsushi laughed. “You look so solemn when you say that.”

“Well, I mean what I say,” said Kinshiro. He looked briefly worried. “Do you think I should try to look more enthusiastic? I don’t want to drive away customers.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” said Atsushi.

Indeed, a few customers were already lining up to take their turn with the balloon toss. The two of them quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm - Atsushi called out to customers to come try their luck and handed out their prizes, Kinshiro collected money and periodically hung up new balloons and rearranged the prize numbers. Their cash box quickly filled up with money.

“We make a good team,” Atsushi remarked, and was gratified to see how pleased this made Kinshiro look.

Some meters away, Atsushi noticed a pair of little boys talking earnestly to each other. One was plump and rosy-cheeked, the other with the scabby knees and band-aided elbows that suggested an adventurous outdoor lifestyle, but they were alike enough in other ways that he guessed they were probably cousins or even brothers. Eventually, the outdoorsman said loudly enough for Atsushi to hear, “Well, if you won’t ask ‘em, I will!” and came trotting up to the balloon booth.

“Hi!” he said. “Hey, Mr. Balloon Guy, Magozaemon wants to know if the flower crowns are for anybody or if only girls can wear them?”

Atsushi smiled. “Well, personally, I think everyone looks good in flower crowns.”

To make his point, he took a ring of yellow flowers and placed it on his head, then offered a purple one to Kinshiro. Kinshiro looked at it blankly for a moment before solemnly accepting it and settling it neatly on his own head.

He looks adorable, Atsushi caught himself thinking. With his silvery hair and delicate features, he might have been some magical elfin creature. Atsushi hoped he didn’t look too silly by comparison, and suspected he only looked like a high school boy with plastic flowers on his head.

Still, the gesture seemed to please the little boy, who beamed and hurried off to tell his companion. A few seconds later, both of them returned and handed over their money. Atsushi helped them climb onto the step stool they had acquired for the smaller children to use. The boy who had first approached them, who Atsushi had gathered was called Ichiro, threw his dart so wildly that Atsushi was amazed it didn’t end up stuck to the ceiling, but instead it popped a yellow balloon in the far upper corner and netted him a small foam-rubber soccer ball. The one called Magozaemon stepped up with a serious expression on his cherubic face. He lined up his toss precisely, and neatly struck a green balloon. The expression on his face when Atsushi handed him a wreath of pink flowers and ribbons was enough to make Atsushi beam as well.

“There you go,” he said, as he gently placed the crown on the child’s head, so that the ribbons streamed down his back. “You look really cute!”

This was clearly the right thing to say. Mogazaemon glowed with pride. Ichiro tugged on his sleeve.

“Come on!” he said. “Let’s go try to catch goldfish next!”

Atsushi smiled as he watched them go. What cute kids. I wonder why his parents decided to stick him with a name like Magozaemon? I’ll bet he changes it as soon as he’s old enough…

He became aware that Kinshiro was watching him approvingly.

“You’re good with children,” he remarked. “I’ll bet you’ll make a wonderful father someday.”

Atsushi felt himself blushing. “Nah. You know I’d spoil them.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Kinshiro thoughtfully.

“I guess if I get married, it’ll have to be to someone who’s good at enforcing rules,” said Atsushi, without really thinking about it.

For some reason, the idea seemed to embarrass Kinshiro. He quickly turned away and began rearranging a display of miniature frisbees that had looked just fine to start with.

“I suppose so,” he said to the toys.

Atsushi quickly turned his attention to the next set of customers, a rather harassed looking woman with “chaperone” written all over her, trying to wrangle a flock of unruly children. Atsushi guessed from their matching lanyards that this was an official school outing, and that the woman was probably regretting volunteering for this.

I wonder what got him so flustered? Atsushi mused, as he made change. Did he think I was talking about him? Well, maybe I was.

He was diverted from this line of thought by a scuffle breaking out among the flock of children, and the chaperone’s attempts to deal with it.

“No, Masaru, it’s not your turn yet! Yukimi is first in line this time. No, Daichi, it’s not time to eat yet. Be patient. Taishi, don’t - Manza Taishi, you stop that right now! We do not pull people’s hair! Taishi!”

The irrepressible Taishi gave the pigtail of the girl he’d been teasing one last jerk, stuck his tongue out, and made as if to run off into the crowd. He managed to get about five steps before Kinshiro was suddenly in his path, scooping him up with a hand under each arm and holding him out at arm’s length. The little boy squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t make any headway against Kinshiro’s immovable grip.

“Now, that’s no way to behave,” said Kinshiro firmly.

“She was making fun of me!”

“That’s no excuse,” said Kinshiro. “You need to learn how to deal with people better than that, or no one is going to want to be friends with you.”

“Don’t care,” said the boy sullenly.

“You will someday,” said Kinshiro. “I suggest you do something about it now, while you have the chance. Anyway, if you misbehave, we won’t let you play with the balloons.”

That got through. The boy looked genuinely shocked. “But she already bought my ticket!”

“We’ll give it to someone else. Darts are sharp. We aren’t going to give them to someone who can’t be trusted to use them properly.”

The boy Taishi thought this over for a while.

“I’ll be good,” he consented at last.

“There we go, then,” said Kinshiro, setting him gently back on his feet. “You’re going to behave for this nice woman and not pick on anyone else today, right?”

The boy nodded. Kinshiro’s eyes were boring into his, fascinating him as a snake might fascinate a bird.

“Good,” said Kinshiro. “Then you may throw a dart when it is your turn.”

Taishi drew himself up and made a show of how well behaved he was being. The chaperone looked relieved.

“Thank you,” she said. “He’s a good boy at heart, really. They’re all just a little overexcited today because of the fair.”

“I understand,” said Kinshiro, passing a dart to the girl at the front of the line. “We all have our off moments.”

Atsushi grinned. When all the children had rushed off to some other entertainment - the troublemaking Taishi now proudly sporting a colorful new bandanna - Atsushi said, “You’re going to be a good father too someday.”

Kinshiro looked pleased. “I’m just used to being the disciplinarian, that’s all.”

Atsushi grinned. “I think the little guy liked you. You’ve got a lot of charisma, you know.”

Kinshiro’s cheeks were definitely pink now. “Flatterer.”

“A lot more than me, that’s for sure,” said Atsushi.

“Not at all,” said Kinshiro. “You’re a very charming person.”

Atsushi beamed. “Call it even, then?”

Kinshiro smiled back. “If you like.”

The two of them stood that way for a few seconds, just smiling and looking into each other’s eyes.

Someone cleared their throat.

“I can come back later if this is a bad time,” said an imperious voice.

Atsushi jumped and turned his attention to the mother of three who had just approached the booth.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he said. “Will that be three tries, then? All right, that’s a hundred yen each…”

Still, even the frosty look the woman was still giving him couldn’t dampen his good mood.

I really am glad Kinchan asked me to do this.

The day wore on. Kinshiro looked down at his watch and was surprised to see that noon had already come and gone. The flow of customers had become so steady that he’d barely had time to stop moving, much less notice the time. Now he realized that he was getting hungry, and wondered when his relief would be here to spell him.

“Do you see any sign of Arima and Yumoto?” he asked, in between bouts of pumping up fresh balloons.” “Not yet,” said Atsushi, as he passed a plastic bracelet to a little girl, “but I’m sure they… oh, wait, there they are!”

He waved to someone Kinshiro couldn’t quite see. Sometimes, he thought, he envied Atsushi for being taller than him. It made it that much easier to find people in crowds.

Soon, though, Arima became visible through the throng. He was followed by a bobbing balloon that probably meant that his diminutive companion was somewhere close to him. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Yumoto himself pushed his way to the front, with Wombat tucked under one arm and a bag of assorted prizes slung over the other. A half-eaten corn cob on a stick was clutched in one hand, and there was a smear of ketchup on his cheek.

“I see at least one of you has been having fun,” Kinshiro observed. “I take it you’ve eaten lunch?”

“I have,” Arima said. “I think this one has had several lunches. I’ve never seen someone eat seven corn dogs in succession before. Where does he put them, do you think?”

Atsushi laughed. “I don’t think he puts them anywhere. I think he just burns through them, like a furnace.”

“He is certainly very active,” said Arima.

“I knew I was gonna hafta work all afternoon,” said Yumoto plausibly, “and I can’t have any snacks while I’m working, so I had to fuel up!”

“Thank you for being so far-sighted,” said Kinshiro dryly. “Are you ready to take over, then? I don’t mind admitting, I’d like something to eat myself.”

“Ready when you are,” said Arima.

Atsushi passed possession of the cash box over to Arima’s capable hands and issued orders for Yumoto to unbox some more prizes. Wombat hid himself beneath the counter and went to work blowing up more balloons. Once they were satisfied that all was in good hands, Kinshiro and Atsushi set out into the fair.

“Free at last!” said Atsushi, turning his face to the sun as though he’d just emerged from a cave. “That was kind of fun, though, wasn’t it?”

Kinshiro agreed that it had been. He actually wasn’t sure whether “fun” was the correct word, but he hadn’t disliked it. He always took satisfaction in having a job to do and knowing he was doing it well. All the same, he was happier now that he was off the hook and free to explore the festival with Atsushi.

“Where shall we go first?” he asked.

“Let’s find something to eat,” said Atsushi. “What do you think would be good? Grilled noodles? Okonomiyaki? Or are you feeling brave enough to try one of those corn dogs Yumoto liked so much?”

“I don’t think I’ll risk finding out he didn’t leave us any,” said Kinshiro dryly. He considered his options. Festival food was not really part of his regular diet. He had more or less convinced himself that it was all spectacularly unhealthy, dubiously hygienic, and definitely below his social status. On the other hand, he was starving, and everything he passed smelled wonderful.

“I think,” he said, with great deliberation, “that I could be persuaded to eat okonomiyaki.”

Atsushi grinned. “Good choice.”

They browsed among the food stalls, picking up plates of this and cartons of that as the impulse came to them, and Kinshiro gradually began to relax and enjoy himself. Maybe it was the fresh cool air, or the fact that he really was very hungry, or the fact that everything was being given to him fresh and steaming straight from the grill. Whatever the reason, everything Kinshiro tried was delicious, and when Atsushi suggested they should get something for dessert, he didn’t put up any argument.

“What should we get?” Atsushi asked. “That’s the trouble with these fairs, you know? There are so many good things you can’t try them all.”

“I don’t know,” Kinshiro admitted. “It looks like there’s…”

He didn’t finish saying what there was before a small child collided with the back of his legs.

“Oops! Sorry!” said the boy.

“You should be more careful where you’re going,” said Kinshiro. He turned to look at the boy. “I know you. You’re Unazuki Taiju, aren’t you? Your father owns the construction company.”

The boy nodded. “That’s me. Sorry, I just wanted to catch up to my friend.”

“All right. Just watch where you’re going from now on,” said Kinshiro.

Taiju nodded. Then he dashed off again, calling to his friend. “Wakura! Hey, Wakura! Dad says he’s going to buy us ice cream!”

“That’s an idea,” Atsushi remarked. “Do you want to get ice cream too?”

“Hmm… no. We can get ice cream any time we want.” Kinshiro realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he’d just said “we”. He wondered if Atsushi would take it as an invitation. Quickly, he went on, “I want to get something a little more out of the everyday, like cotton candy or a candied apple.”

“I think you’re right,” said Atsushi. He looked around, eyes serious as he scanned the various offerings. Kinshiro couldn’t help but admire him. He looked so intelligent, even though he had apparently forgotten he was still wearing a crown of yellow flowers. Come to think of it, Kinshiro was still wearing his, but he had no inclination to take it off. After all, it had been a gift from Atchan, and he didn’t have so many of those that he was willing to cast this one off lightly.

“Aha!” said Atsushi, expression brightening. “I see just the thing.”

He grabbed Kinshiro’s hand and began leading him through the crowd. Kinshiro almost stumbled, all other thoughts subsumed by the thought that was, Atsushi is holding my hand! Somehow he managed to stagger and regain his footing well enough to follow Atsushi on his zigzagging course through the crowd until they had reached on specific booth.

“Here we are!” said Atsushi. “What do you think?”

He sounded so proud of himself that Kinshiro was prepared to say that whatever he’d dragged him to was fine. Then a shift in the air brought a scent of sweet baking dough, and he realized that Atsushi had found a taiyaki stand. For an instant, he was back in time, a little boy sitting beside his best friend at a table in the mall, contentedly ruining his appetite for dinner with those little fish-shaped cakes, and all was right with the world.

“It’s perfect,” he said, around the sudden tightness in his throat.

Atsushi beamed. “I knew you’d think it was a good idea.

They ordered bags of small taiyaki - custard filled and chocolate filled for Atsushi, red bean and matcha custard for Kinshiro. Then they wandered away from the crowds, out into the parts of the park that hadn’t been taken over by booths and picnic tables, looking for a quiet place to enjoy their dessert and rest their feet for a while. Kinshiro nibbled a cake, still warm and steaming, the filling melting on his tongue, and thought that the world really was a good place after all.

“Hey, look,” said Atsushi, nudging him.

He was pointing to three little boys playing together under a nearby tree. Or rather, Kinshiro realized, one little boy napping while the other two attempted to rouse him.

“Come on, Kyotaro!” the red-headed one was saying. “We’re all done eating now. It’s time to go back to the fair.”

The drowsy Kyotaro flapped a hand and said something too quietly for Kinshiro to hear. The boy with the glossy black hair rolled his eyes dramatically and said, “Come on, Ryouma. If he won’t come we should just go without him.”

“But Ata…!” Ryouma protested.

Atsushi laughed as they walked past.

“It’s like if you and me and En-chan were all kids together,” he said.

“It really is,” said Kinshiro. “I hope things don’t get as complicated for them as it did for us.”

Atsushi smiled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said, “could get as complicated for them as it did for us.”

Kinshiro smiled. “You’re probably right.” Then he sobered again. “You know, I wish it had been like that. Can you imagine? If maybe that day you had told me where you were going and I had decided to come along just to keep you company. We’d have met Yufuin and he’d have been my friend as well as yours and none of this nonsense would have ever happened.”

“Hmm,” said Atsushi. “If that had happened, I might never had met Wombat or gotten to be friends with Yumoto or Arima and Akoya and the Beppu brothers, and I’d have been kind of sorry if I thought I’d missed my chance to be a superhero. That part was kind of fun sometimes. But I am sorry we didn’t get to spend more of our childhood together. I’m sorry you had to be so lonely for so long. I wish we could have had it both ways.”

Kinshiro’s lips quirked. “The Battle Lovers and the Caerula Adamas fighting together against the evil of TV Universe? I suppose that wouldn’t have been so bad.”

“It would have been fun,” said Atsushi. He smiled. “I think next time, though, I really am going to have to be more careful what I wish for. I wouldn’t have wished to be a superhero if I’d thought it would involve me fighting with you.”

“So, what would you wish for this time?” Kinshiro asked.

Atsushi smiled. “I’ll have to think about it and let you know. What would you wish for?”

“The same as last time,” said Kinshiro promptly. “For us to be together for the rest of our lives.”

Atsushi nodded. “I’ll try, then.”

Kinshiro found himself oddly pleased by that noncommittal answer. If Atsushi had promised unhesitatingly that Kinshiro shouldn’t worry, that Atsushi would always be there for him whenever he needed him, then Kinshiro wouldn’t have been able to make himself believe it. He’d believed it when he’d been a child, and had been disillusioned when he’d found out it wasn’t going to happen that way. Now they were both older, and understood that sometimes things happened. Sometimes they would be misunderstandings that would have to be worked through. Sometimes they would be things outside of their control. All Kinshiro needed to hear was that Atsushi wasn’t going to just give up on the two of them the next time an obstacle dropped in their path.

“Thank you,” said Kinshiro. “That actually makes me feel better.”

Atsushi flashed a bright smile. “At least I can promise to spend the rest of the fair with you. What do you say we finish our dessert and then go try some of those games? I’ll bet with all that archery you do, you’d be really good at hitting targets.”

Kinshiro smiled back. “I’ll win you something.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Atsushi protested.

“No, I want to. To thank you for agreeing to go through this whole ordeal with me.”

“I was glad to do it. It’s been fun,” Atsushi insisted.

“Then accept it as a gift from a friend,” said Kinshiro.

Atsushi nodded. “That’s all right, then.”

Kinshiro smiled and reached into his bag for another taiyaki, already planning his strategy. He was going to win Atsushi the biggest, best prize at this fair if he had anything to say about it. And maybe when he gave it to him, buoyed by his success, he’d be able to say why he’d really won it. If not, well, Atsushi would still be accepting it as a sign of friendship, and that would be almost good enough.

******

Atsushi stood aside and watched as Kinshiro patiently lined up his shot. At moments like this, he could have been some legendary warrior of ancient legend - some demigod, perhaps, come to do a bit of righteous smiting. His back was straight, his chin held high, his eyes hard and bright with the glint of battle. A stray breeze ruffled his hair, and Atsushi sighed.

He really is gorgeous. Maybe if we’d spent more time together I’d have noticed it sooner. As it was, he had to assume that the only reason someone hadn’t snapped him up already was that Kinshiro had firm views about people messing around with dating when they should be concentrating on their schoolwork.

With snakelike speed, Kinshiro went from statuesque stillness to a blur of motion. The ball he’d been holding shot from his hand to smack squarely into a pyramid of bottles. They clattered to the ground - all but one, which wobbled precariously back and forth on its base. Atsushi held his breath, but Kinshiro simply stared, coolly daring it to defy his will. The bottle gave up.

“Great job!” the man behind the counter cheered. “You get a prize. What would you like?”

Kinshiro glanced at Atsushi, who grinned and said, “You pick.”

Kinshiro surveyed the offerings before selecting a windbreaker dtenciled with “Binan City” and a view of Mt. Binan on it. He solemnly offered it to Atsushi.

“You keep it,” said Atsushi, holding up his hands in protest. “You already got me this.”

He held up the plush toy Kinshiro had acquired at the pop-gun stand: a round and smiling onsen manju over a foot across, pink-cheeked and button-eyed. It was amazingly soft and squishy, and Atsushi couldn’t help but feel that En would be jealous of it, and probably try to steal it for a pillow.

I’m not letting him have it, though. If he wanted one, he could win it himself. Possibly he had - Atsushi had seen him briefly outside the balloon booth, chatting with Arima as he prepared to take a chance with the darts. Atsushi had considered asking him to join them for a while, and decided against it. En, while always good company, would be a complication Atsushi wasn’t prepared to deal with just now. Later Atsushi would call him and they could hash over the day together, maybe even meet up at the baths if it was still open by the time Atsushi got home. For now…

“It will look better on you,” Kinshiro insisted. “Anyway, you won me this. Fair is fair.”

He indicated the canvas tote bag that Atsushi had managed to win at the coin toss. It wasn’t a bad bag, as these things went, but Atsushi didn’t feel it quite counted. It was only one step up from a consolation prize, for those who managed to toss a coin into the outer ring of the slippery target but hadn’t managed to hit dead-center. Atsushi felt it was a poor repayment for the grand prize Kinshiro had won for him.

“Well, all right,” he allowed, “but if you see something else you’d like, you have to let me know so I can try for it.”

Kinshiro nodded. “All right.”

Privately, Atsushi suspected that Kinshiro was just humoring him, but Atsushi wasn’t about to let the matter drop so easily. There had to be something at this fair that he could offer to Kinshiro that would help him express all these complicated things he was feeling.

“What do you want to do next?” Kinshiro asked, glancing at his watch. “The fair will be closing down soon.”

It was true. The sun was inching towards the horizon now, painting the fair in shades of gold and rose. Once it began to get dark, the booths would fold up and the fairgoers would begin to depart - not to go home, though, not all of them. Most of them would head to the other end of the park, down by the river, where the fireworks display would be held. They were always a high point of the festival, and Atsushi was looking forward to them.

“Let’s make one last circuit of the fair,” he said, “and then check in and see if Arima and Yumoto are ready to close up yet.”

“And then the fireworks?” Kinshiro suggested.

“Definitely fireworks,” Atsushi admitted. “I wouldn’t miss them.”

Kinshiro’s smile was inscrutable. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Atsushi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see,” said Kinshiro mysteriously. “Come on. Let’s make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

They walked slowly, taking everything in. Already the crowds were thinning out, as parents brought tired and cranky children home and locals slipped off to find dinners that weren’t fair food. The raucous noise of shouting people, squealing children, and popping balloons had quieted to a gentle murmur. Atsushi found himself looking less at the booths he was strolling past and more at Kinshiro. The light of the setting sun reflected off his hair and cast gold highlights on his face. He looked relaxed and peaceful in a way that warmed Atsushi’s heart. He hadn’t often seen his dear friend looking so content.

“Atchan?”

Atsushi jerked his mind away from contemplating the way the sunset highlighted Kinshiro’s eyelashes.

“Yes?” he asked warily.

“You aren’t really looking at the fair, are you?”

Atsushi felt himself going red with embarrassment. “Guess not. Sorry. It’s just… you look so happy, and it’s nice to see you smile.”

That smile broadened. “I am happy. I’m so glad I got to spend this day with you. I just wish I’d had the sense to do this sooner.”

“Well, we’re doing it now. That’s what’s important.”

Kinshiro shook his head. “I’m not so sure. All that time is gone, and we can’t get it back, and it’s all because I was stupid.”

Atsushi politely declined to comment on whether or not Kinshiro had been stupid. He walked along silently for a second or two, watching the clouds in the west go from gold to pink to purple.

“We’re going to be graduating soon,” he remarked.

“I know,” said Kinshiro. “And then we’ll be going out into the world.”

“That’s right,” said Atsushi. “We’ll be adults, and we’ll be able to make choices for ourselves - what schools to go to, where to live, what jobs we do.”

“Yes..?” said Kinshiro, in a tone that said gently, “And where are you going with this?”

“So are you sorry you spent all that time in school when you could have been out in the world doing what you decide to do?”

“No, of course not. How could I? I had to go to school first to… oh.”

Atsushi nodded. “It takes time to learn things. Maybe you could have learned it faster, maybe you couldn’t. Maybe you needed that time to let go of being hurt and be ready to start over. Maybe I needed time to learn things too. Things happened when it was time for them to happen. We might have used up a lot of time, but we didn’t waste it.”

Kinshiro regarded him with wide, amazed eyes. Then he shook his head.

“The way you see the world is really something special,” he said.

Atsushi laughed. “The way you say that, I can’t tell if you mean it as a good thing or a bad one.”

“It’s a good thing,” Kinshiro insisted. He turned his head, eyes tracking something out of Atsushi’s line of vision. “Oh! Look at that!”

Atsushi turned to look where Kinshiro was pointing. The attraction was a ring-toss booth, but Kinshiro wasn’t looking at the game itself. He was looking at the prizes. Most of them were the usual suspects, the same sorts of things that Atsushi and Kinshiro had spent their morning giving away. A few, though, were clearly meant to be grand prizes, and were safely shut away in a clear plastic box where they could be admired without any danger of being smashed by a wildly tossed ring. A few gaps showed where lucky players had already carried off some of the best prizes, but Atsushi could still see a new video game, a detailed figurine of a popular anime character, a glittering necklace, and… yes, that had to be it: a teapot with matching cups. They were all the same shade of soft celedon green, touched gently with strokes of black, white, and gray that suggested the outlines of leaves tossed by the wind. They were simple, elegant, and beautiful, and Atsushi could easily believe that Kinshiro must be coveting them.

“Nice,” he said. “That teapot would look perfect on display in your room.”

Kinshiro nodded slowly. “I wonder if I could…”

“Let me,” said Atsushi.

Kinshiro half-smiled. “I was going to say, I wonder if they would let me buy it off them, since the day is nearly over and no one has won it yet.”

“No, no, no,” Atsushi insisted, playfully wagging a finger. “It’s a prize. You have to win it or it doesn’t count. Anyway, you won me a jacket. And a plushie.”

“It’s not the same. I’m sure that tea set is worth a lot more than a cheap windbreaker.”

“Well, let me at least try,” said Atsushi. “You can try it your way if mine doesn’t work.”

“Stubborn,” said Kinshiro, but he was smiling when he said it.

Atsushi stepped up to the booth and regarded it thoughtfully.

“How does this work?” he asked.

“Pretty simple,” said the barker. “Five hundred yen gets you three tosses. You get a ring around one of these poles, you get a prize. The bigger the pole, the bigger the prize.

Atushi nodded. The poles stood in a row, with the smallest sitting nearest and the biggest the furthest away. Atsushi could see that it was nearly as big around as the hoops themselves, so that only a toss that was dead on target would drop onto it. Still, he had to try. He handed over his money.

I can do this, he told himself. He sized up the target. The little ones, he could ignore - it would have to be the teapot or nothing.

“Here we go,” he said aloud.

“You don’t actually have to do this,” said Kinshiro, as Atsushi lined up his shot. “I’d be just as happy with something else. Anyway, you know these games are rigged so that it’s impossible to…”

Atsushi tossed his ring. It wafted gently through the air, seeming to drift rather than sail. He watched with a sense of inevitability as it landed neatly on the furthest goal and dropped into place as though drawn by a magnet. Kinshiro’s jaw dropped. Atsushi blinked, as stunned as anybody.

“That was just a practice throw,” he said no one in particular. “I wasn’t actually expecting to hit anything.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said the barker. He shrugged and grinned. “Well, it looks like you’re the last winner for the day. What do you want?”

Atsushi felt a smile spread across his face as he took in what had just happened.

“We’ll have that tea set, please.”

“Right you are,” said the barker. “I’ll box it up for you.”

Shortly afterwards, Kinshrio was clutching a cardboard box to his chest as if the teapot and cups were precious treasures that everyone in the world might be expected to steal.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he said, for the second or third time.

Atsushi grinned. The repetition didn’t bother him. It was rare enough that Kinshiro was impressed by anything that he was enjoying the novelty.

“It was just fate,” he said. “That tea set was destined for you.”

“I love it,” said Kinshiro sincerely. “I’ll think of it you every time I use it.”

Atsushi felt a little thrill run through him when Kinshiro said the word “love.” He hoped his flusterment wasn’t showing too clearly on his face.

“I hope you enjoy it,” he managed. “Come on. Let’s go help the others close up. I don’t think I can top that performance, so I might as well end on a high note.”

They reached the booth where Arima and Yumoto were helping the last few stragglers. A boy ceremoniously handed his prize to the young woman with him, and the two of them strolled off hand in hand. Yumoto called out a goodbye to them, as enthusiastic as though he hadn’t spent the whole day waiting on customers. It was Arima who first realized that his friends were returning.

“Well, hello there,” he said. “I see you two have been having fun.”

Yumoto turned to beam at them. “Hey, guys! Wait until you see! We made so much money!”

“I see you’ve been doing very well,” Atsushi agreed. The supply of prizes was looking decidedly picked over.

“It was lots of fun!” Yumoto agreed.

“Do you need us to help you get it all back to school?” Arima asked.

Kinshiro shook his head. “You two go on. Get something to eat. Watch the fireworks. My people are coming back with a truck to help us haul this away, so Atchan and I can take it from here.”

“Okay!” said Yumoto cheerfully. “Hey, Arima-sempai, you want to come to the baths? Anchan’s making a big dinner and then we’re all going to the twins’ house to watch the fireworks from their roof. You can come too, if you want,” he added magnanimously, to Kinshiro and Atsushi.

“Thank you,” said Kinshiro, “but I have other plans.”

He cast a quick, speaking glance towards Atsushi. Atsushi had been considering taking up the offer, but now he held back, wondering what Kinshiro was up to.

“Okay, then,” said Yumoto. “See you tomorrow!”

He went bouncing off, with Arima following behind him at his usual sedate pace. Kinshiro turned back to Atsushi.

“I hope you don’t mind me volunteering you,” he said.

“Not at all,” said Atsushi. “I’m glad to help.”

Kinshiro smiled and shook his head. “Sometimes you’re almost a little too eager to volunteer help… but in this case I’m glad of it.”

“Oh?” said Atsushi.

Kinshiro’s smile became mysterious. “You’ll see.”

******

The trip back to school was a bumpy one. Kinshiro and Atsushi ended up riding in the back of the truck among the bits of disassembled booth. They didn’t talk much, since they had to invest most of their energy in not being jostled or squashed as everything rattled about. Kinshiro was surprisingly all right with that. It meant he didn’t have to make conversation and potentially spoil his surprise.

They reached the school, and Kinshiro directed his driver around to the back gate where they could unload the booth more easily. Atsushi started to help the driver unpack, but Kinshiro stopped him.

“Let him do it,” he said. “You’ve had a long day already.”

“Are you sure?” asked Atsushi, casting a guilty look to where the driver was already hauling things out of the back of the truck.

“It’s fine,” said Kinshiro. “He’s up to the job, and he’s being paid for it. I want you to come with me for a minute.”

“Oh. Okay,” said Atsushi. “Where are we going?”

“First,” said Kinshiro, “I want to take the cash box inside and put it away where it will be safe. After that…” He faltered slightly. “Well, I was hoping you might want to have dinner with me and watch the fireworks.”

“I’d love to,” said Atsushi. The way he lit up warmed Kinshiro’s heart.

This might actually be all right…

He fetched a key from his pocket and let himself and Atsushi into the school. The building was dark and silent, and slightly spooky in the absence of any other people. He was gratified to find Atsushi edging closer to him.

“It’s so much bigger when there are no people here,” he murmured, as they picked their way silently across the entry hall.

“I know what you mean,” Kinshiro agreed. He couldn’t help but find it a little unsettling to see the school he loved so much empty of life and light. He found himself wondering how Atsushi would take it if he tried holding his hand, but he restrained himself.

They reached the door to the council room without incident. Kinshiro let himself in with a different key and went to put the cash box away while Atsushi wandered around the room. The damage left by the disaster of the school festival was gone now, its only trace being a few spots on one wall where the paint was a bit fresher than the rest. Still, Kinshiro wondered if Atsushi might be thinking about that moment when he’d first realized that his club’s humble base was connected to this room.

“This is a really nice place,” said Atsushi aloud. “It’s no wonder you hang out in here so much.”

Kinshiro smiled a little. “It serves its purpose.” He strolled over to the window and unlatched it. “There’s a good view from here, too. Come and see.”

Atsushi obediently crossed the room to peer out the open window.

“Wow, you’re right,” he said. “The stars are beautiful tonight…”

While he was contemplating the view, Kinshiro crouched and began rummaging under his desk. After a moment, Atsushi turned around to see what he was doing.

“What have you got there?” he asked, as Kinshiro came up with a bundle in his hands.

“Dinner, if you want it,” said Kinshiro, a bit sheepishly. “I suppose you’ll think this is silly, but I had this idea… I thought we’d be able to see the fireworks really well from the school roof, so I thought if you were all right with it…”

“You’re asking me if I want to have dinner with you on the roof?” Atsushi guessed.

Kinshiro nodded. Atsushi beamed.

“That’s a great idea,” he said. “I should have thought of that myself.”

Kinshiro glowed with pride. He slid his picnic basket onto his arm and gestured to the open window with his free hand.

“After you, then,” he said.

Atsushi grinned and bounded through the window with the confidence of someone who had done it before. Perhaps he had. Kinshiro was vaguely aware that students sometimes slipped out the windows to sunbathe on the roof, or to cut classes, or just to read quietly away from the bustle of the rest of the school. Kinshiro could all too easily imagine Atsushi and the rest of the Earth Defense Club clambering onto the roof to watch the sun set while they rambled on about everything and nothing.

Well, tonight it’s going to be with me, he thought.

He started to climb out the window. It occurred to him that he had never actually done this before. Oh, Chevalier Aurite had perched dramatically on the roof more times than he could count, but plain old Kusatsu Kinshiro had never done anything so undignified or dubiously rule-abiding as climb out a school window. His balance faltered a little as he tried to find his footing and manage his picnic basket at the same time. Then a hand closed around his, and Kinshiro looked up into Atsushi’s smiling face.

“It’s all right,” said Atsushi. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” Kinshiro managed, and somehow managed to get out onto the ledge without losing his balance or his composure and falling flat on his face - or worse, onto the ground four floors below.

It was better once he was outside, though. The tiles of the roof had absorbed the warmth of the day, so even though the air was growing cooler, it was pleasant up where they were. They clambered their way up to the top of the roof and into the bell tower. Kinshiro spread his picnic out for them. It was outrageously simple fare, by his own standards: fruit, sandwiches, bags of chips and nuts, cookies, bottled tea, things that would be all right left sitting around all day. He’d also had the foresight to pack a small blanket, in case the weather got chilly. Atsushi seemed delighted with the repast, though, and set about helping Kinshiro unpack it all with good will.

“I know what we need,” he said.

He reached into his pocket and took out some of the glow sticks he’d collected from the booth. He snapped them and arranged them around the perimeter of their picnic while Kinshiro watched in bemusement. Atsushi grinned.

“Nearly as good as candles,” he said.

Kinshiro smiled back. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The two of them settled down on the blanket and tucked into their feast. Simple as it was, Kinshiro couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a meal more. He and Atsushi chatted companionably, hashing over their thoughts on the fair and speculating on what the rest of their friends might have done with their holiday. Occasionally they’d lapse into a silence that neither of them really minded. For Kinshiro, it was enough that he was here, that Atchan was there with him, the stars were shining overhead, and all was right with the world.

“We should do this kind of thing more often,” said Atsushi.

“I don’t know when we’ll get another chance to sneak onto the roof,” said Kinshiro.

“I don’t mean quite like that,” said Atsushi. “I guess I just mean… well, things. Going to the movies or on a picnic or to fairs or… anywhere, really.”

“We will,” said Kinshiro. “We’ll get to visit each other a lot while we’re in college. After that, well…”

“We’ll make something work out,” said Atsushi. There was a gleam in his eyes that suggested one way or another, he meant to make it happen. He’d fight monsters for it, if necessary.

“We will,” said Kinshiro. He gathered up the last of the wrappers and tucked them neatly into his picnic basket. He checked the time on his phone. “Fireworks are about to start.”

“Better get a good view, then,” said Atsushi.

They moved out onto the spine of the roof, where they had a clearer view of the city. It was beautiful from up there, with all the city lights shining in their multitude of colors. If Kinshiro listened carefully, he could hear the distant music of the band that was playing to entertain the crowd before the fireworks started. Local garage band, Kinshiro thought, hoping to rise to greatness on the coattails of the VEPPer. They weren’t anything like as talented as Aki and Haru, Kinshiro suspected, but muffled by distance they sounded all right.

Asushi settled down next to him and tucked the blanket around the two of them.

“What…?” Kinshiro yelped, startled to find himself suddenly bundled up in the same blanket as Atsushi.

“So you don’t get cold,” said Atsushi. “You always did get cold easily.”

“You always said you’d keep me warm,” Kinshiro murmured. “I remember.”

Atsushi leaned his head on Kinshiro’s shoulder.

“A lot sure has happened since then,” he said. “I’m glad it all worked out all right. I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too,” said Kinshiro, with feeling. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. It’s hard to believe I could be so stupid as to spend so much time doing the opposite of what I really wanted to do.��

“Well, I could have done better, too,” said Atsushi. “But all that’s over. Now it’s time to think about what we want to do next.”

Kinshiro smiled slightly. “I think I want to watch the fireworks with you. After that… maybe just lie here and look at the stars for a while.”

“I’d like that too,” said Atsushi. “But what about after that?”

“After that?” Kinshiro hesitated. He was tempted to say, “I’m not sure,” but that wasn’t true. He knew what he wanted for the future, for tonight and tomorrow and the rest of his life, and that was to spend as much of it as possible with the man he loved. He just wasn’t sure how to get that out without making a fool of himself.

“What do you want?” he asked, feeling like a coward.

“I want… to spend a lot of nights watching the stars with you. I want to go to the library with you and sit and read together for hours. I want to go to coffee shops with you and drink coffee and talk until the baristas get tired of us sitting there and throw us out. I want to go to more festivals like this one. I want to do so many things I can’t list them all.” Atsushi turned towards him, his warm eyes serious. “I wish I never had to spend another day without you. That’s what I want - for us to be together forever, just like I promised we would.”

“That’s what I want too,” Kinshiro whispered.

Maybe it was because he was tired and his defenses were down. Maybe it was because he’d spent the whole day wishing he could do this. Maybe it was because he had planned this whole picnic idea with the hope that it would help him get to the point where he could. Maybe it was because he knew he’d never get a better chance than this. Maybe it was just because Kinshiro couldn’t stand the temptation any longer, but whatever it was, it was powerful enough to make Kinshiro lean close to Atsushi and kiss him.

A flickering of light on his eyelids told Kinshiro that the fireworks had just started. They were nothing compared to the fireworks that seemed to be going on inside him. After a second or two, he pulled away again, suddenly worried that he had ruined everything. He couldn’t quite read the expression on Atsushi’s face.

“Atchan?” he hazarded.

“You just kissed me.”

“Yes.” Kinshiro felt his face going red. Of all the stupid, impulsive… and just when they’d started to make real progress, too…

“Why?”

Kinshiro stared up into Atsushi’s gentle face. He didn’t look angry, or repulsed, only mildly quizzical. The fireworks going off in the background colored his features rose and gold and emerald.

“Because I wanted to,” Kinshiro admitted. “You’re just so warm and kind, and I always feel so happy when you’re near me, and it just came over me all at once, and…”

He stopped babbling as Atsushi raised a hand to cup his cheek.

“Would you like to try again?” Atsushi asked gently.

Kinshiro sighed with relief. He hadn’t ruined everything after all. He closed his eyes and leaned into Atsushi’s embrace. This time, there were a lot more flashes and bangs in the background before they pulled apart again. Atsushi laughed giddily.

“Wow,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day. All week.”

“Me too,” Kinshiro admitted.

Atsushi was still giggling. “Boy, are we slow or what? We take forever to do everything.”

Such was Kinshiro’s current state of elation that this struck him as hilariously funny. They both leaned against each other and laughed as the fireworks display reached its crescendo. Kinshiro reached for Atsushi’s hand and felt it close around his.

“Our friends are never going to let us hear the end of this when they find out, you know,” said Atsushi. “En-chan is going to tease us about it until we’re a hundred.”

“Let him,” said Kinshiro. “He had it figured out before we did, didn’t he?”

“He’s smarter than he lets on,” Atsushi agreed. “And I think he’ll be happy for us. I’m happy for us.”

“So am I,” said Kinshiro fervently. “I really do love you, you know.” It felt good to finally get the words out.

“I know,” said Atsushi.

“Mm.” Kinshiro settled himself more comfortably under the blanket. It was nice here, his head resting on Atsushi’s shoulder, the two of them holding hands. “I think the fireworks display is over.”

“Looks like it,” Atsushi agreed. He made no move to get up.

“Want to stay here a while longer?” Kinshiro asked.

“Mm-hm.”

“All right. Just for a little while, though. Tomorrow is a school day, you know.”

Atsushi laughed. “Nothing changes you, does it?” He gave Kinshiro’s hand a squeeze. “I love you.”

They leaned back against the tiled roof, holding hands and looking up at the stars. Far below them, the last of the fireworks winked out, the audience began to go home, and the city lights dimmed. The spring festival was over, but for the two of them, the real celebration was just beginning.

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #kinatsu #kinugawa atsushi #kusatsu kinshiro #silvormoon #kinatsuaddict17 #fanfic #submission

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boueibu-valentines · 6 years

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Creator: @seifukubu Recipient: @deuterium51614 Title: Love, Love Characters/Pairings: EnKin

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #enkin #yufuin en #kusatsu kinshiro #seifukubu #deuterium51614 #art #submission

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boueibu-valentines · 6 years

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Don’t Call Me Dear

Creator: @merelatio Recipient: @tinycharm-art Title: Don’t Call Me Dear Characters/Pairings: Nanao/Atsushi Summary: Atsushi wasn’t expecting such a surprise from a certain super sadist blond boyfriend tonight. Comment: I read quite a lot of your fics since after HK aired and enjoyed your writing style, so I was really happy to get to make a gift for you and got so excited when I saw you asked for NaoAtsu!! I just love the two green sadist magical boys and boueibu crossovers so this was a lot of fun! Hope you enjoy this story and Happy Valentine’s!!

____________

“Well hello, my dear~”

“D-Dear?” Atsushi mumbled in embarrassment, looking shy and sheepish as he pointed to himself.

Nanao grinned as he walked over to Atsushi, swaying his hips in the process, admiring the way Atsushi’s eyes were following his every movement.

“D-Don’t call me dear,” Atsushi mumbled after a moment when he had found his voice again.

“Why not?” Nanao asked with a hand weaving through his blond hair. “You’re dear to me, Atsushi-kun, more than anyone else, my dear~”

Atsushi’s heartbeat ran overtime at those words.

“Don’t be afraid to let your wild side take over for a bit. I’m all yours, after all~”

Nanao absolutely thrived at the titillating way in which Atsushi was reacting, all fidgety and blushing a deep crimson.

And just to keep his boyfriend looking like that, Nanao pushed his body right up against Atsushi’s, backing the other startled man into the nearby wall.

“E-Eh?! Nao-chan?!” came Atsushi flustered squeak as large chocolate eyes widened, his heartbeat racing as he shivered from the intensity lit up like an unquenchable fire in Nanao’s honey brown eyes.

But even though he was shivering and severely affected by the sudden action, Atsushi knew he couldn’t let Nanao win so easily. So he made his own comeback.

“I love you,” Atsushi murmured softly in a tender tone that left Nanao breathless.

But being a super sadist, he couldn’t pass up the chance to tease.

“Ah, do you now?” Nanao asked with a smirk, grinning widely as he reached a hand under Atsushi’s chin to tip his face up. “Well, I love you more.”

It had the proper effect.

Much to Nanao’s delight, Atsushi’s cheeks turned an adorable rosy red color as the other averted his deep, dark chocolate eyes shyly.

“Don’t look away from me,” Nanao teased playfully with a click of his tongue. “Let me see more of that sexy blush of yours, dear~”

Atsushi shifted on his feet as he bit his lip.

“N-Nao-chan,” he stuttered, averting his eyes for a second before they met Nanao’s who smiled in that sexy way that left him all flustered each and every time he saw it. “S-Say it again… that you love me…”

Upon hearing that, Nanao pounced.

“Always so needy. Do you really want me that badly~?”

Atsushi turned so red so fast, it was as if it happened in an instant. Even though Nanao was his boyfriend, he really wouldn’t ever get used to the teasing blond, would he?

“You’re such a sadist, Nao-chan,” Atsushi mumbled with a huffy pout.

Nanao giggled at that statement as he fluttered his eyelashes sweetly at Atsushi. “But I’m your sadist, Atsushi-kun,” he murmured huskily as he trailed a teasing hand down the center of Atsushi’s chest.

Atsushi sucked in a breath, frozen in place as he watched Nanao wink all flirtatiously at him.

“I’m well aware just how much you enjoy my sadism,” the blond stated with a confident grin, “so don’t try to deny it, dear.”

Nanao paused for a moment as his hand kept trailing down, watching Atsushi closely, intensely.

“And it’s always so hot when you show me just how much of a sadist you can be,” Nanao breathed into Atsushi’s ear as he felt the other man shiver against him. “What would you say if I were to tell you that I could consider you as a sadistic rival?”

Atsushi gulped, feeling his face and body grow all hot from all this teasing.

“I-I’d say you’re relentless,” Atsushi retorted in a shaky tone of voice. “But I’d also tell you that I won’t back down either.”

“Oh, you know I love a challenge,” Nanao replied with a glint in his eyes before adding, “but not as much as I love you.”

Atsushi turned even redder at that which was wonderful for Nanao’s lovestruck, sadistic soul.

“I can… never win against you, huh…”

Nanao shook his head with a knowing grin. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try, my dear.”

And Nanao knew that Atsushi would keep trying. It was like some sort of competition between them where they each kept trying to get the other to blush or stutter or flail; Atsushi knew he was the one usually on the receiving end though.

Nanao was a tough challenge to overcome no matter how much Atsushi loved him.

It seemed so impossible that the two of them even got together in the first place. But ever since they met, after realizing that they had had quite a lot in common, and after Nanao started teasing him endlessly with Atsushi trying his best to retaliate with his own comeback at times, they had somehow fallen in love.

There was certainly never a dull day to be had with Nanao around.

The only major thing they didn’t have in common was that Nanao had a sweet tooth while Atsushi enjoyed spicy foods.

Cooking had turned more into baking ever since they started dating which wasn’t an easy task for Atsushi to accomplish or get used to at first. But Nanao had still eaten what cakes and cookies and desserts he had managed to make. And a baking session or two had ended up with a teasing scuffle or a food fight.

He was happy with Nanao.

But naturally, Atsushi couldn’t dwell on his nostalgic thoughts too long before Nanao began to poke him in an effort to get his head out of the clouds and his attention back onto his blond boyfriend.

“Are you distracted with thoughts of me even though I’m right here in front of you, my dear~?”

A fresh blush bloomed its way across Atsushi’s cheeks as he blinked startled eyes back into Nanao’s teasing gaze.

“My, my, seems you can’t get enough of me, hm~” Nanao giggled as he leaned in to nibble at Atsushi’s lower lip, his arms winding over the other’s hips.

It was so adorable how Atsushi averted his gaze in such a way that it left Nanao’s heart beating fast.

But again, no matter how affected Atsushi was by all this, he had to try to make a comeback. So he did.

“No, I can’t,” he replied. And before Nanao could say anything else, Atsushi weaved his hands through Nanao’s blond locks of hair and leaned in for a lingering kiss.

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #naoatsu #kinugawa atsushi #wakura nanao #merelatio #tinycharm-art #fanfic #submission

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boueibu-valentines · 6 years

Text

To Love and Relax

Creator: @fierysunrises Recipient: @lidoxia Title: To Love and Relax Characters/Pairings: Ryouma/Ata Summary: Ryouma and Ata spend some long overdue time together. It’s not a date. Until it is. Comment: Prompts: Confession, First Kiss, Pining (A bit)! This is such a really cute ship!!!!! I hope you enjoy! Happy Valentine’s day!! \o/ ____________

One day, not long after they saved HonoyaLand, Ryouma found something in his shoe locker.

To Kirishima - You should relax once in a while.

It was a note stuck to a bottle, written in beautiful and clear printing. Ryouma stared at it in mild surprise. It was his favourite drink from when he was younger, a bottle of sweet strawberry soda. He took it out, smiling. It had been a while since he’d had this to drink, how nostalgic.

But… wait. Ryouma looked back at the note again. He should relax… did that mean he looked like he wasn’t relaxed? Did he look like that? That wasn’t good! It’s true he was more tired than usual lately… but how did someone else notice it? He put the drink and note into his bag, however, thinking that he’d drink it at home later. He couldn’t wait, really. It was something to look forward to.

Ryouma backed away from his locker. School was over for the day, and he had to go find Kyoutaro so they could walk home together like usual. Or rather, so he could help Kyoutaro walk home so he actually got home instead of finding a bench to sleep on.

He walked down the hallway, approaching the door to the defense club, when a sudden loud voice made him pause. He peeked around the corner to see a student standing there, looking down with shame, and Ata, his arms crossed as he scolded the student.

“You know that it’s against school rules to run and be rowdy in the hallway. What if you crashed into someone? Think about your actions next time.” His voice was strict and harsh, and seeing Ata with his pinched eyebrows like that… Ryouma found himself heading over to the two of them, his legs carrying him on impulse.

“Ata-kun, I’m sure he’ll remember that, don’t be too hard on him, alright?”

Ata turned to Ryouma, and his expression softened, giving Ryouma a small nod. Something about that small motion made Ryouma’s stomach do a few tiny flips. He smiled up at him. Ata immediately turned his head away again, way too fast, and Ryouma noticed the top of his ears had gone red.

While this happened, the student had already ran away.

“Kirishima,” Ata mumbled. “The student did something wrong, so please don’t interfere.”

“Oh,” Ryouma said, face falling. “I didn’t mean…”

Ata then turned back to Ryouma, his eyes a bit wide with regret.

“No, I’m sorry. I was just frustrated. I know you were just trying to help.”

Ryouma smiled again, feeling relieved.

“I’m glad. I don’t like seeing you stressed out, Ata-kun.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause, and Ryouma tried to think about something else to say. He and Ata didn’t get many chances to be alone together since HonoyaLand, where he and Kyoutaro made up, which meant that he and Ata got to be friends again too.

He had really missed Ata, more than he could express to anyone.

Ah, that’s it. A compulsion came over him.

“Are you busy now?” Ryouma asked. “We should walk home together. And maybe go somewhere?” It was a bit sudden, it was as if the words had come out without Ryouma meaning to say them. But he did mean them - he really wanted to spend time with Ata. He could feel his heart pick up speed, nervous, as he waited for Ata’s answer.

Ata looked a bit surprised, but he shook his head. “No, I’m not busy. I’m done everything I need to do for today. I… will. Walk home with you.” A small smile was on his face, and Ryouma beamed back.

“Great! It’s been a while since we spent time together just us.”

Now, Ata looked taken aback. “Just the two of us?” His cheeks went a bit pink, and Ryouma wondered if he had said something wrong. “I mean….” Ata continued, sounding irritated all of a sudden, “what about Shuzenji? You’re always with him, mothering him.”

“Oh,” Ryouma said, as he was reminded. He then felt a bit of regret. He wanted to spend time with Ata, but he also had to walk with Kyoutaro to look after him. He looked after Kyoutaro because he liked to look after his friend, but…

It was then when he heard some chatter, and he turned around to see the rest of the defense club exiting the club room. Nanao was teasing Ichiro, Ichiro was blushing, and Taishi was scolding Kyoutaro who was standing there, half asleep.

Ata was standing there, looking a bit put off, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning. And Ryouma made a split second decision. He walked up to his friends, and, flushing a bit, nervous, he asked them a favour. Something he usually never did.

“Is it alright… if one of you walks Kyoutaro home today?”

He sent a nervous glance back at Ata. He didn’t want Ata to leave without him.

Nanao noticed, and laughed. “Of course, Ryouma-kun. Ichiro-kun, Taishi-kun and I will, right?” Ichiro’s eyes widened, turning to stare at Nanao as he nodded, while Taishi looked surprised. Kyoutaro opened his eyes, gazing at Ryouma, and then he turned his eyes to Ata and back, and then he smiled.

“Go, Ryo-chin. I can go with Nanao-san and the others today. And other days, too.”

“You never ask us for anything, senpai,” Taishi said. “So of course, we’ll be glad to help.”

Ryouma smiled gratefully at his friends. “Thank you.”

Nanao then smirked, leaning in a bit. “Now go enjoy your date~”

Ryouma gasped. “Wakura-senpai! It’s not-it’s not-”

Nanao waved him off. “Yeah, yeah~”

And then the four of them were gone.

Ryouma gaped, his cheeks red, as he turned back to Ata.

How did he know?!

Not that it was a date…

But it wasn’t that Ryouma didn’t want it to be…

Oh, great, now he was going to act all awkward, and Ata would be turned off…!

Ryouma laughed awkwardly as he approached Ata again.

“It’s all fine, we can go!” he smiled at him. Ata’s whole body language changed then, he relaxed, giving Ryouma a relieved smile.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me get my bag.”

When he disappeared quickly, Ryouma thought again how convenient it was that the student council room was right next door to the defense club.

He’d get to see Ata so much more often, especially now that they could be friends again.

The fact that Ryouma wanted to be more than friends was something he tried not to dwell on.

Ever since they were kids, Ryouma had always thought of Ata as special. Ata, who was so elegant, beautiful, and fun to be around, and he captivated Ryouma from first sight. Ryouma couldn’t help but be taken by him.

The three of them hung out and played together all the time, both in school and out, but there were times when Ryouma and Ata spent time together too, when Kyoutaro was sick, or sleeping. And those times were when Ryouma realized that the friendship he felt with Ata was different than what he felt with Kyoutaro. He wanted to be with Ata all the time, he thought about him when he was at home, and his heart raced when he saw him. Of course, he kept all that to himself, not knowing what any of it meant.

It wasn’t until he was older, and Ata was already gone, did he realize what his feelings meant.

It had hurt him a lot when Ata suddenly stopped being friends with Kyoutaro, and by extension, him. It gave Ryouma so many regrets. If only he had gone after Ata sooner that day in the baths, if only he had tried to make peace between him and Kyoutaro, even though he noticed Ata’s anger at him, at both of them… he had truly thought that Ata was just as mad at him, too.

It hurt him, when he saw Ata in the hall, sending him and Kyoutaro glares, only speaking to them when necessary. It was true that Ata didn’t seem as angry when they spoke on certain occasions, just the two of them, like the moment during the sports festival. He could see the softness in Ata’s eyes. It was like old times, almost. But then it went back to how it was, with Ata separate from him.

It filled him with yearning that he tried to hide, tried to push down.

All he wanted was to be Ata’s friend like he used to. Even though they couldn’t be more.

Because there was no way, that Ata of all people could love him the same way. In Ryouma’s mind, there was no way it could be true.

“Are you ready, Kirishima?” Ata’s voice suddenly broke apart Ryouma’s thoughts. He smiled sheepishly at him, trying to will the painful thoughts away.

Ata was here with him now. It was okay.

“Yes, let’s go!”

It was after they left the school building, did Ryouma say something he’d been thinking for a while.

“Ata-kun… if it’s okay with you, you can call me Ryouma again.” He scratched his cheek, feeling a bit shy.

“Oh,” Ata said, looking over at Ryouma. He looked a bit hesitant, but nodded. “Alright…” And, Ata’s cheeks flushed a bit in apparent embarrassment, as he looked away. “Ryouma.”

The way Ata said his name made Ryouma’s stomach flip a few times over, and he couldn’t help but blush, and he looked away too, not wanting Ata to see how red his face was. Something so simple making him react like this… it was only because it was Ata.

After walking a bit more, Ata suddenly stopped and nodded toward a building just ahead. It was a small Japanese restaurant. “Are you hungry, Ryouma? This is a great restaurant. Would you like go in? I’ll treat you.”

Ryouma had to stop himself from getting his hopes up. This really felt like date.

“Yes, let’s go in. If Ata-kun likes it, I’m sure it’s great.”

They went in together, and Ata led them to a table. Ryouma was surprised when Ata pulled out his chair for him. Ata was being really nice to him, and Ryouma loved it… probably too much. It was something he wasn’t used to.

“I love the soumen here,” Ata was saying as they sat down together, across from each other. He had a smile on his face as he looked at the menu. “It’s the most delicious I’ve ever had. I’m sure you’ll like it too.”

Ryouma beamed. “I trust your taste,” he said. “Then in that case, can we have a dessert too?”

Ata chuckled. “You still like sweet things, huh?”

Ryouma laughed as well. “Of course. I didn’t change too much, Ata-kun.”

Ata’s smile softened a bit. “No, you didn’t. You’re still the same Ryouma.”

“Really?” Ryouma asked. “I must have changed at least a little…” he paused. “You’re still the same Ata-kun, too. Strict, and serious, but also… kind and caring, even if you deny it.” A small smile was on his lips as Ata’s eyes widened, his cheeks dusting pink.

“O-of course I’ll deny it!” Ata said. “I’m not…” he paused, seemingly obviously flustered by the comment.

“You are,” Ryouma insisted. “I know you’re kind, Ata-kun. How you reacted to Kyoutaro and I was just because you were hurt.”

Ata then became silent, staring down at the menu. It was then when the server came up. Ata then gave her their order. Two bowls of soumen, as well as a strawberry cake. Ryouma was surprised.

“How did you know I like strawberry cake?”

Ata smiled. “You liked strawberry flavours a lot when we were children, it’s not that much of a leap.”

Ryouma smiled. Him liking strawberry cake a lot was a more recent thing, after Ata had stopped being their friend. Ata was really smart to figure out his tastes.

“Thank you, Ata-kun. It’s one of my favourites.”

Ata smiled back, and then they engaged in some more idle chat while waiting for their food. When it arrived, Ryouma took the first bite of the soumen noodles and was pleasantly surprised. It really was delicious.

“You have good taste,” Ryouma said, mumbling through a mouthful of food.

Ata sighed, but smiled. “Chew and swallow first, or else you might choke,” he scolded lightly. “But yes…” he gazed at Ryouma in a particular way, an almost shy way that Ryouma couldn’t read too well, “I do have wonderful taste.”

Somehow, the way he said that made Ryouma’s cheeks go warm, so he lowered his head and continued eating, and trying to convince himself that this really wasn’t a date, no matter how it seemed like. Was it only him that thought that way…?

It had to be. Ryouma was very sure that there was no way Ata returned his feelings for him.

Just as he finished eating, both the soumen and the cake, he looked up to see that Ata was already done, and he had a troubled look on his face. It was easy to tell. His eyebrows were scrunched, and he was biting his lip. Ata then looked back over at Ryouma to see him looking, and his cheeks went pink.

Ata then visibly took a breath.

“I have something to apologize to you about.”

Ryouma didn’t expect that. “Me? About what? I don’t think there’s anything…”

“There is,” Ata insisted. And then he took a pause before explaining. “Before… when I was mad at Shuzenji. I took out some of my anger on you too. For that, I apologize.”

Ryouma was really surprised. Out of all things for Ata to say, he didn’t expect that.

“What do you mean?”

“I…” Ata looked like he was struggling with saying it aloud. “I wasn’t really that angry at you,” he finally said. “I was… how should I say… envious.”

Now, that Ryouma didn’t expect. His eyes went wide. Envious!? Jealous?! Ryouma really tried not to get his hopes up too much. But it was hard, when Ata was looking at him like that. His cheeks were a bit red, and the way his hair fell down in front of his face, Ryouma was mesmerized.

Ata was staring at Ryouma, and as if drawn in by impulse, Ryouma found himself leaning forward, reaching towards Ata’s hair, and brushing a piece of it out of his face.

It was only when Ata let out a gasp did Ryouma realize what he did. His own face went red.

“Ah-Ah-!” he stuttered, “Ata-kun, I’m sorry… it was an accident!” No, that was dumb! “It… I didn’t mean to do it on purpose…!” Not making your situation any better, Ryouma!

Ryouma shook his head, flushed. Oh, no! And what made this worse, was now that he had a taste - he wanted to do it again. He wanted to run his hands through Ata’s hair more…

“It’s… it’s okay,” Ata suddenly replied, looking down at the table. Ryouma could see his ears were red.

“B-but… you don’t like people touching your hair…”

Ata then looked up at Ryouma, his face turning a bit darker, as he clenched a fist on the table.

“If it’s you, it’s okay,” Ata murmured, voice quiet, but Ryouma definitely heard him, and now his heart was spinning a million miles a minute. Just what was he supposed to think about this? Ryouma was going to combust and collapse right here on this table right now.

Ata was going to let him get the wrong idea… Ryouma hid his red face in his hands, and he tried to calm his breathing. But he had no luck with that. He finally lowered his hands to see Ata was still staring at him, eyes full of something Ryouma couldn’t place, but… it made him want to keep looking into them.

He blushed again. Ata then seemed to blush again too, his eyes widening, as if he realized he said something he shouldn’t have, and Ryouma really was going to die here, wasn’t he?

“J-just forget I said that…” Ata suddenly said, turning his head away sharply.

Ryouma didn’t want to forget it. But he didn’t push it again. Instead, the topic of conversation was still nagging at him, since it got interrupted.

“Ata-kun… you said you were envious… of… of what?”

Ata’s head snapped back to Ryouma and he let out a big sigh.

“I… I already cleared the air with Shuzenji, about our falling out… and I’m glad we’re friends again, even if the grudge didn’t completely go away… but after HonoyaLand, and what I learned there… I realized I didn’t tell you the whole truth either. And… and if we’re going to be friends again… we should be honest.”

Now, Ryouma was really confused. And really curious. What was Ata getting at here? “About what?”

But he had to admit, the word friends stung a bit, when he wanted to be so much more than that.

“When I got betrayed by Shuzenji,” Ata continued, “and you continued to stay by his side, enabling him… I was frustrated. I thought you were choosing his side over mine.”

Ryouma shook his head frantically. “No!”

Ata looked at Ryouma, a questioning expression on his face. “No?”

“No,” Ryouma insisted. “It wasn’t like I was on Kyoutaro’s side.. I didn’t know you thought that..”

Ata looked down. “You always did so much for him, even after… you always let him get away with his slothful lazy ways, always taking care of him… always paying attention to him… I thought you chose him. So, in my anger… I was unfair to you.”

The way Ata said that caused Ryouma’s heart to start to pound heavily. Did Ata really… think that?

“No, no, no!” he blurted out. “Kyoutaro’s my friend, but you’re also my friend. I didn’t choose him over you - you-you’re…” he flushed. Ata was different. Kyoutaro was his best friend, but Ata was… more.

“I thought you were mad at me too,” Ryouma continued, “I did notice… I did notice you. I always did, but… I didn’t know if you’d have wanted me to talk to you.”

The look on Ata’s face was so heartbreaking, Ryouma wanted to go over there and give Ata a hug. He had to really stop himself.

“I’m sorry,” Ata said again. “That’s what I wanted to say. I never apologized to you for how unfair I was. I was never truly mad at you… I just wish you had chosen me.”

Ata flinched then, as if it was hard to admit that. With the way his voice wavered, Ryouma could tell he hadn’t wanted to admit that part.

“It’s okay,” Ryouma said softly. He reached over to put a hand over Ata’s, which was on the table. Ata looked up, wide-eyed. “I should’ve done something more. I noticed when you were hurt… and when you separated yourself from us… and I didn’t do anything. I could have tried to fix it a lot sooner, or at least tried to talk to you more. I’m sorry too, Ata-kun. For making you think I wouldn’t be on your side. And for not making more of an effort. Because being apart from you was horrible.”

Ata then looked up at Ryouma again, a soft smile forming on his face. And with the way his cheeks were still pink, Ryouma was shocked speechless. He’d never seen anything so beautiful before.

“You need to smile more,” he blurted out.

The smile fell from Ata’s face. “H-uh?!”

Ryouma gaped. Oh, why did he keep doing this? And now he was aware he hadn’t removed his hand from Ata’s yet, so he flung it away, heat flooding his face again.

“I-I mean, a smile looks good on you, you’re always so stressed and busy… you should relax and smile more.”

Ata then smiled again, chuckling. “I think it’s you who needs to relax.”

Ryouma looked baffled. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Ryouma didn’t know what that was about. But then Ata was paying for their food, and Ryouma didn’t even have time to object to that.

Ryouma then got up and followed Ata.

They left the restaurant, Ryouma felt a lot better after their talk. Even though his feelings for Ata were starting to overwhelm him. The fact that this whole outing felt like a date didn’t help. Nor did the fact that Ata was standing so close to him, that their shoulders brushed as they walked. And the way that Ata blushed when Ryouma had touched his hair wouldn’t leave his mind.

Ryouma was brought out of his thoughts when Ata suddenly stopped, and he reached over to touch Ryouma’s wrist.

The contact startled Ryouma, and he gasped. Ata gasped too, and his cheeks went red. “I’m sorry- I-”

“No, no,” Ryouma said, feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, “I was just surprised. What is it?”

Ata was looking over to a small playground across the street. Ryouma instantly recognized it, and his eyes lit up. It was a playground he, Ata, and Kyoutaro had played at together multiple times. But most of the time, he and Ata played together while Kyoutaro napped on a nearby bench.

“Shall we… go check it out?” Ata asked, smiling softly at Ryouma. Ryoma nodded. Without thinking about it, he grabbed Ata’s hand, and pulled him safely to the other side of the road, towards the play structures.

“R-Ryouma?” Ata gasped out, as Ryouma pulled him over. He dropped his bag onto the ground, grinning.

“Come on, Ata-kun, let’s get on!” Ryouma called to him excitedly as he started to climb up to a platform. He looked down at Ata, who was looking around, seeming hesitant and embarrassed.

“But… we’re not children anymore. Isn’t it strange? What if someone sees us?”

“Nobody’s here,” Ryouma said. “It’s still fun! It’s okay. Come join me. Please?” he looked down at Ata, who was staring up at him, looking to the ground and back up at him.

And then Ryouma held out his hand to him.

Ata glanced up at the hand, and then after a moment, gave a sigh, and smiled. He dropped his own bag next to Ryouma’s, walked up, and took Ryouma’s hand. And then Ata climbed up onto the play structure next to him.

Ryouma smiled, squeezing Ata’s hand, and still trying not to hope too much that this was really a date. Ata wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel Ata squeeze back.

Ryouma then moved over, let go of Ata’s hand, and went to move across the handlebars.

He immediately fell.

Pouting, he turned to look up, and then watched with awe as Ata moved across them flawlessly.

“Amazing, Ata-kun!” Ryouma cheered.

Ata dropped down, blushing. “It’s… it’s nothing,” he said.

And then they spent more time together like that. It was full of nostalgia, but also… fun. Being with Ata like this. With them both smiling and laughing.

This day was already permanently etched into Ryouma’s memories.

After a while, of running around a bit, and playing on the slides, both of them were breathless, and laughing together. And they both, a bit tired, ended up sitting side by side on a swing set. Ryouma started to swing, while Ata stayed where he was, stretching out his legs.

Ryouma kept sneaking peeks over at Ata. He couldn’t help himself. He saw the way Ata was smiling softly, the wind which had picked up gently blew his hair to the side. It was a beautiful sight. Ryouma’s heart was beating really fast. In fact, he was so distracted watching, that he nearly fell off the swing.

Ryouma accidentally ended up letting go of one of the sides, as he yelped, tilting backwards, one hand gripping the chain, but unsteady.

Ata was upon him in a flash.

He quickly ran behind Ryouma, grabbing at his shoulders before Ryouma accidentally slipped off.

Dizzy, Ryouma blinked at Ata, and even though Ryouma’s vision was spinning, he could see that Ata was staring down at him with horrified concern.

“That’s why I thought this wasn’t a great idea-!” Ata scolded. “We’re not children anymore. This was unrowdy!”

Ryouma laughed. “I’m fine, though,” he said. “Thank you, Ata-kun.” He smiled up at him. “It was fun… it’s true that we’re not children anymore, but it’s okay once in a while, right?”

Ata sighed again, he helped Ryouma back into a sitting position on the now stopped swing, and he walked over to the other side of Ryouma, standing in front of him.

“I suppose,” he ended up saying, still studying Ryouma critically. Ryouma enjoyed the attention, though.

Before he knew it, Ata was lifting up one of his hands to inspect it. “Not even a scrape…”

Ryouma flushed a bit, Ata was holding his hand!, but nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Ata paused. “Of course I worry about you! Even when we were apart, I worried. About you… about you working yourself too hard… about how straining it was to take care of Shuzenji… if you got sick…”

Ryouma found himself freezing in place. Ata was still holding his hand, and now he seemed a bit distant, like he was lost in thought.

Ata then dropped his hand, and turned away from him.

Ryouma got up from the swing suddenly, and before he knew what he was doing, he was wrapping his arms around Ata. He really didn’t know what had come over him; but what he did know was that the way Ata turned away was filling him with a queasy and almost desperate sensation - he didn’t like it.

And not to mention his feelings for Ata were overwhelming him. They had all day… he’d been in love with Ata for a long time, after all. Spending all this time together, while great, had also been so hard for him when he was holding back his true feelings, his true feelings he feared weren’t returned.

With all of those feelings adding up inside him, he couldn’t stop himself from hugging Ata tightly from behind.

He heard Ata let out a shaky breath of air. “R-Ryouma…?”

Ryouma’s face went hot, but he didn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he said, voice strained. “I’m saying that a lot, aren’t I…?” Ryouma took in a deep breath. “Thank you for worrying and for caring about me…”

Ata’s body was warm, and Ryouma’s face just went warmer because of it. He was sure he looked like a tomato. But he wasn’t done speaking.

“But I want to make it up to you… I care about you too, Ata-kun, so much. So much I want to show you how much…. No matter how long it takes, even if it’s forever.” And then he held Ata tighter.

Ata now trembled underneath Ryouma’s hold. “Ryouma…” Ata said, voice shaky. “You’re… you…”

Ryouma then suddenly dropped his arms, taking a step back. What… what was he doing…?! Wasn’t that too much?

“Um, Ata-kun…” Ryouma stuttered, embarrassed. Hadn’t the way he just said those words sound too … romantic? Did he just go too far, with that and the hug?

But Ata slowly turned around, and Ryouma froze. Ata’s face was red, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

Ryouma then realized he and Ata were standing way too close. His eyes went to Ata’s lips, and he realized that he wanted to kiss him so incredibly much. The impulse that came over him was so strong, he ended up taking one more step closer.

Ata’s eyes were wide, and he was staring at Ryouma.

“Ryouma…” Ata’s voice sounded a bit high pitched. He looked down, gazing from Ryouma’s head, down to his lips, and back up, his own face mirroring Ryouma’s in colour, and Ryouma couldn’t back away now.

They were so close, and Ryouma, he wanted this, wanted Ata, badly, for so long, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I like you, Ata-kun,” he said in a rush. “I like you so much… I don’t know what do do with myself.”

Ata’s face changed a bit, his eyes went wider, his mouth opening a bit, but then it slowly morphed into a smile, and before Ryouma knew it, Ata was stepping closer, and leaning down, and kissing him.

Ryouma kissed him back, his hands moving up to Ata’s shoulders, as he tried to press in closer. Their first kiss - it was amazing. Ata’s lips were soft, so much softer than he ever could have imagined. And warm. Ryouma felt the sensations from his lips, all the way down to his toes.

His hand ended up moving away from Ata’s shoulder, finding itself in Ata’s hair, moving through soft strands. And then his eyes widened. “I-is that okay?” he asked, flustered, against Ata’s lips. Ata only nodded, and Ryouma’s eyes fluttered closed again.

But because they both needed to breathe, the kiss ended not long after that.

They pulled away, beaming at each other. Ryouma tried to catch his breath, unable to even believe what was happening. He hadn’t gone on this outing with Ata with the intent to confess to him, but… somehow it had gone that way.

Ryouma looked over at Ata, who was blushing so badly, he was looking to the side, biting his lip a few times. It was truly adorable. Ryouma giggled.

Ata then turned to look at him, looking shy, but still smiling. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” Ata said. “If I known, I would have…”

Ryouma shook his head. “I… I should’ve confessed to you a long time ago, if I knew too…”

Wait. Ryouma froze, panicking. He was making assumptions. Ata had kissed him, but he never said anything else…

Ata, as if realizing what Ryouma thought, grabbed his hand, smiling up a thim, still looking shy. “I’ve liked you since we were kids,” Ata admitted.

Awe and relief washed over Ryouma at the same time. “R-really? Me? Of all people?”

Ata frowned. “What does that mean? You’re amazing, Ryouma.”

Ryouma was going to combust at any moment now.

“No, you’re the amazing one, Ata-kun! You’re so smart, fun to be with, and talented, and beautiful… I could never keep my eyes off of you.… ever since we were kids.”

Ata looked taken aback, but he smiled. “You’re the only one to think so - everyone thought Shuzenji was better than me.”

“No,” Ryouma said. “It’s true that Kyoutaro was good at things instantly, but I could tell how much effort you put into everything… you really worked hard for it all, It’s one of the things I like and admire about you, Ata-kun.”

Ata blinked, and then he put a hand over his face.

“R-Ryouma… stop. I don’t think… I can handle this much more… my heart is pounding too fast. I never thought I’d ever feel this happy.”

Ryouma’s heart jumped, excited and flustered at seeing Ata this way, and he nodded frantically. “I-I get it! I did mean what I said though…” Pause. “And… me too.”

Ata lowered his hand, and then they both smiled at each other again. “This was a very good first date, for first dates… not that I have any experience with them.”

Laughing giddily, Ryouma squeezed Ata’s hand.

“I had thought… no, hoped this was a date the whole time.”

“It definitely was,” Ata agreed. Ryouma kept staring at Ata, realizing yet again that this boy was now his. They had mutual feelings for each other. After all his time pining and yearning over him, it was still so hard to believe.

Ryouma really wanted to kiss Ata again.

But after he thought that, he realized how breathless and parched he really was.

“Ata-kun, do you want a drink? There’s that vending machine over there.”

Ata bit his lip, shaking his head. “I actually have drinks here.” He moved over to his bag, opening it, and lifting two drink bottles. He handed one over to Ryouma. Ryouma’s eyes went wide. It was his favourite sweet strawberry soda. A flash from earlier overcame him.

“Ata-kun… that was you?”

Ata looked a bit embarrassed, but nodded. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” he said, blushing. “That made me really happy. But… why do you think I need to relax?”

Ata shook his head, sighing. “You have to deal with a lot, Ryouma. The whole of your club… not to mention Shuzenji. You’re always taking care of everyone. You’ve always been like that. You should relax sometimes, and take a break from it.”

Ryouma smiled, looking down. When Ata had said how he worried about him before… it had felt good, as this did.

He looked back up. “But what about you? You’re the president of the student council. You have a lot on your plate too. I’d say you need to relax just as much as me. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

Ata smiled. “Maybe so… but…” he looked a bit shy before leaning in a bit closer to Ryouma. “Maybe from now on we can help each other learn how to relax.”

Ryouma immediately smiled. He grabbed Ata’s hand, and tugged him in closer to him. And then, because he could do that now, he leaned in to kiss Ata. His hand once again ended up in Ata’s hair as they kissed, Ryouma really couldn’t help it.

Ata’s hand ended up wrapping around Ryouma’s waist gently, pulling him in.

And they stayed like that, only taking a break to breathe, until the sun began to set.

The next day, there was another gift in his shoe locker. But this time, it was different than before.

Ryouma pulled out a box of chocolates shaped like a heart, and then promptly blushed. On the side, there was a note, with perfect, beautiful handwriting that made his heart flutter and feel so full and excited for every day to come.

To Ryouma. Let’s relax together again soon. ♥ Ata

End.

#boueibu valentine #boueibu #ataryo #ibusuki ata #kirishima ryouma #fierysunrises #lidoxia #fanfic #submission

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