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nanamis-baker · 4 months

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The Bold Stroke

Chapter 2 | Whisper of the Petals

Pairing: philosophy student Geto x art student f!reader (College AU)

Summary: A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology… but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 10.2k

a/n: okayy it's here!! This chapter took me a while to write because writing conflicting emotions is something new for me lol.

But a big big bigg thank you to my girl @whereflowerswenttodie for reading and rereading it and helping me out with it!! 💙

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“So, are you meeting up with someone?” you asked Inumaki as you fixed your hair a little, the elevator mirror being perfect for it. The two of you were going to the library. Well, you were going to the library, and Inumaki had some work on the same floor, so he accompanied you.

Inumaki nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as the lift opened with a ding. The two of you went separate ways, waving each other goodbye as you went into the library. But as soon as you entered, your legs halted. What you saw was… unexpected, to say at least.

The library had transformed into a bustling marketplace of stressed students. Every table, including yours and Suguru's usual spot, was now occupied by unfamiliar faces. The studious quiet you'd craved was replaced by murmured arguments, frantic typing, and the occasional frustrated groan. This wasn't exactly how you'd envisioned making the presentation format with Suguru.

You had texted him earlier about the presentation format, but there was no way you could get any work done in this chaos. What could you do now? And what other option did you have? You could go to the cafe but-

Just then, a warm hand settled gently on your shoulder. You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat, only to find Suguru standing there, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he chuckled, his voice soothing amidst the library's chaos. You shook your head, the disappointment momentarily forgotten.

"No worries," you managed, forcing a smile. "But seriously, what do we do now?" You gestured towards the library, the silent question hanging heavy in the air.

Suguru's smile faltered, replaced by a knowing frown that mirrored your frustration. "I kind of expected this," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, a bunch of students submitted the same assignment, thinking they could fool their teacher."

A flicker of surprise shot through you. "The same assignment? How did you…"

"Long story," Suguru interrupted with a wry smile. "Let's just say the rumour mill at this school is efficient." He paused, his gaze flickering around the library before landing back on you. "The good news is, I might have a backup plan."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in your eyes. "A backup plan, huh?" The unexpected turn of events had certainly piqued your interest.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of mischief dancing in his dark eyes. "It is a Top secret," he declared, smiling to himself. "But trust me, it's worth it." He reached for your bag, gently relieving you of the weight. "Just promise me you won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

"Can't guarantee anything until I know where we're going," you teased, the disappointment at the ruined library session fading with each passing moment.

Suguru grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached out and gently grasped your arm, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, the crowded library seemed miles away as Suguru led you on a detour.

The corridors twisted and turned, a confusing maze that would make recalling the route later impossible. You found yourself relying on Suguru's confident strides, a comfortable silence settling between you broken only by the rhythmic click of your shoes against the polished floor.

Finally, you arrived at a seemingly nondescript wall, the only hint of something unusual was a small, silver panel nestled discreetly within the plaster. Suguru pressed a button, and with a soft whirring sound, the elevator door slid open.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You had no idea this elevator even existed!

Suguru stepped inside, beckoning you to follow. It was a maintenance elevator, you realised. The cramped space barely accommodated the two of you comfortably, and the close proximity did little to deter you. He punched in a series of numbers on the keypad, and with a slight jerk, the elevator began its ascent.

"This elevator," you began, looking up at him, unable to contain your curiosity any longer. "How did you find it?"

Suguru chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he looked down to meet your eyes. "Let's just say Satoru and I stumbled upon it during an… 'unforeseen circumstance'?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the memory. "Someone was rather displeased with us - him, actually - at the time. Finding this secret elevator was a happy accident." His gaze lingered on the keypad, “And figuring out the pin wasn’t difficult, especially when Satoru is with you,” He finished, smiling fondly at the memory. You found yourself smiling too.

The elevator came to a halt, the familiar ding echoing in your ear. With a sense of anticipation, you watched as the doors slid open, revealing a sight that took your breath away. No longer confined by the walls of the library, you found yourself standing on a rooftop terrace bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

The sky stretched out before you like a canvas splashed with luminous hues of apricot and peach, with a hint of purple, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. Below, the sprawling campus unfolded like a miniature world, with buildings and pathways etched in the golden light. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair and caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of drying leaves, with a hint of muskiness.

For a moment, you were speechless, captivated by the unexpected beauty that lay before you. Turning to Suguru, you found a wide grin plastered across your face.

"So this is what you meant by 'Top Secret'?" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, nodding confirmation. "This place is a bit of a hidden gem."

His gaze swept over your face, searching for your reaction. "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Like it, Geto?" you repeated, the question almost comical. "I absolutely love it!"

This secret terrace, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, felt worlds away from the unexpected chaos of the library. It was a private sanctuary, a place just for the two of you.

A satisfied smile spread across Suguru's face. "Good to know," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He gestured towards a nearby bench, its weathered wood and faded brown paint promising a comfortable perch. "We should have plenty of light for some time now - enough to complete that presentation, at least."

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, you readily took a seat on the bench. Suguru settled himself beside you, the air crackling with newfound energy. "Perfect!" you declared, clapping your hands together. "Then let's get started."

The sun, it seemed, had a favourite today. You sat beside Geto, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon light, as it casted a golden halo around you. He found himself mesmerised, his gaze drawn to the way the light danced on your skin, turning it a canvas of shimmering bronze. Each flicker in your eyes held a spark more captivating than any gemstone, a tiny fire that seemed to ignite a warmth deep within him.

A golden aura surrounded you, and in Geto's eyes, you became the most exquisite treasure the world had to offer.

He struggled to focus. Every few moments, his gaze would snag on the way the sunlight danced in your eyes, igniting a flicker that stole his attention. Geto found himself mumbling a request for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly, you didn't seem annoyed, simply repeating your point with a gentle smile.

You intrigued him – a captivating puzzle he couldn't seem to solve. Your thoughts, a fascinating mix of unexpected angles and surprising echoes of his own, kept him constantly engaged. During discussions, you'd throw out a witty remark that had him stifling a laugh, a sharp observation that made him see the topic from a whole new perspective. He'd marvel at the way your mind effortlessly weaved humour and insightful analysis, a combination that felt refreshingly unique.

There was a depth to your intelligence that went beyond mere academic prowess. You possessed a genuine curiosity about the world, a thirst for knowledge that mirrored his own. He found himself drawn to your passion, the way your eyes would light up as you delved into a subject that truly interested you. It was as if you held a mirror to his soul, reflecting things he hadn't even realised were there.

The more he interacted with you, the more he realised how much he craved your presence. It wasn't just the conversations; there was a spark between you, an undeniable chemistry that left him both exhilarated and strangely vulnerable. He found himself wanting to impress you, to share his thoughts and ideas in the hopes of eliciting another one of those dazzling smiles.

"Okay!" you said, a triumphant smile lighting your face. The last rays of the setting sun cast a warm glow on the terrace, painting the cityscape in hues of lavender and gold. "We are done now," you declared, gathering your things. You turned to him, and your smile was even brighter, “Suguru, I can’t thank you enough for your help with this - I couldn’t have done this without you” Gratitude and sincerity shone brightly in your eyes, but that wasn't what held his attention.

Suguru. You had called him by his first name. It was a simple gesture - you probably didn't even realise it - yet it resonated within him like a physical touch. The sound echoed in the twilight, a melody far sweeter than the chirping crickets. He craved to hear it more and more.

"You don't have to thank me again and again, you know?" he managed, his voice a touch rougher than usual. He cleared his throat, hoping to dispel the unexpected feelings that bloomed within him. "I enjoyed working on this project too," he added, hoping to convey his sincerity. It was true – it had all been stimulating for him. But a deeper truth lurked beneath. He enjoyed simply being near you - in your presence.

A pang of sadness, sharp and sudden, twisted in his gut. Here he was, enjoying the afterglow of a shared experience, yet a looming shadow threatened to engulf it. The project, the reason you were here with him, was done. When would be the next time the two of you see each other? Would you, like the last rays of the sun dipping below the horizon, simply slip away too?

The weight of his unspoken thoughts pressed down on Suguru as you walked towards the elevator. The last embers of the sun had faded, leaving the sky a canvas of deepening indigo. As he reached to press the button, blinding darkness swallowed the world whole, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

"What happened...?" He heard you murmur, a whisper lost in the sudden quiet. Suguru turned towards your voice, his eyes straining to adjust to the absence of light. He found you, a faint silhouette framed by the faint glow of the rising moon.

Concern flickered across him. He couldn't see you clearly, but he didn’t miss the slight tremor in your voice. He gently grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours, hoping to calm you.

Needing to confirm his suspicions, he took a tentative step towards the railing and peered over. Darkness. Not just the terrace, but the entire university grounds were shrouded in an inky blackness. The distant hum of activity that usually filled the evening air had been replaced by an unsettling silence.

"There seems to be a power cut in the area," he replied gently, his voice sounding hollow in the darkness. "But don't worry, we should have power back soon." He said, but for some reason, he had a hard time believing his own words.

"Can we use the stairs or something?" you asked, the slight tremor he had heard in your voice earlier was still there.

"Unfortunately, no," he sighed. "Satoru and I found it earlier, but they are blocked - inaccessible."

You didn't say anything, but Suguru heard a small, defeated 'Oh' escape your lips.

"But don’t worry, we can go and sit on the bench?" he offered, trying to shake away your worries. He could see the outline of the bench as his eyes had started to adjust to the darkness.

"Yeah, let's go," you agreed. As he guided you towards the familiar wooden seat, he felt your hand tighten around his, drawing his attention towards you.

Suddenly, you stopped, your voice tinged with awe. "Suguru, look up!"

He followed your gaze, tilting his head back. And then he saw it. The unexpected darkness had stripped away the veil of artificial light, revealing a breathtaking spectacle he hadn't even realised he'd been missing. A vast expanse of midnight blue stretched above them, a canvas sprinkled with a million shimmering diamonds. The stars. So many stars, each one a tiny beacon in the infinite darkness.

The darkness, once unsettling, now felt strangely beautiful. He stole a glance at you, your face bathed in the ethereal glow of the starlight, a look of wonder mirrored in your eyes. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.

Not at all.

An unexpected idea sparked in Geto's mind. He gently released his hold on your hand and reached for his jacket. He knelt, spreading the garment on the cool ground, making sure it was properly spread out.

"Here," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked up at you. He could see you better now, bathed in the faint moonlight, and a flicker of curiosity played across your features.

"What are you doing?" you asked, And Geto could hear the amusement in your voice.

"Come on," he said, extending out his hand, offering it to you in the dimness. "This way we can see the stars better, without straining your neck."

Understanding dawned on you, and a delighted smile spread on your lips, mirroring his own. Taking his hand, you allowed him to gently guide you down onto the makeshift blanket his jacket provided. A warmth spread through him as the two of you settled on the jacket, laying down side by side. Geto could feel the heat radiate from your body against his arm.

A comfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of a cricket, a sound that seemed louder than usual in the quiet. Geto kept his hand intertwined with yours, the warmth of your skin a surprising comfort against his. His thumb, as if possessed by a will of its own, began tracing lazy circles on your palm.

Stealing glances at your face, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, Geto searched for any sign of unease, a flicker of disapproval that might suggest he had crossed a line. Thankfully, he found none.

"Suguru?" He heard you say, your voice, soft as the night breeze. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze in the dim moonlight.

"You know," you began, a playful glint dancing in your eyes, "you never really told me why you were nose-deep in all those business books in the library that day."

A surprised chuckle escaped Geto's lips, despite the topic you were referring to. "Yeah? And you never told me why you chose to drown yourself in the world of arts," he countered, his voice betraying a hint of the unease he felt.

You let out a laugh, the gentle sound echoing in the dark. "Well, you never really asked!"

"But I am asking now," he countered, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Okay, okay," you said with a grin. "Fair enough. First, you answer my question, and then I'll answer yours. Deal?"

Geto hesitated for a beat, the darkness both a shield and a prompt. So Geto had to offer a part of himself to get to know you better - sounds interesting "Deal," he finally agreed.

You looked up at him expectantly and taking a deep breath, he decided to be honest. "The thing is," he began, trying to hide the disgust he felt about this topic, "those business books weren't exactly what I wanted to be reading. You see, my family owns a pharmaceutical company, one of the biggest in the country."

"Oh wow," you said, a hint of surprise in your voice, “I didn’t know that.”

"Yeah," he said, a humourless scoff escaping his lips. "They expect me to join the business after graduation. Here's the real thing though," he continued, feeling his voice drop low, "They see me as a puppet, someone to inherit their greed and continue their ruthless practices."

"What kind of practices?" he heard you ask, concern flickering in your voice.

He felt his jaw clench slightly, the darkness a welcome shroud for the anger simmering within him. "They price their life-saving drugs at exorbitant rates," he spat, the venom of his words sour on his tongue. "People who desperately need them can't afford them, all because of my family's insatiable thirst for profit. It goes against everything I believe in."

A heavy silence descended. He stole a glance at you, unsure how you'd react. But your expression was open, devoid of judgement, and held a flicker of understanding. It was an unspoken invitation to continue, a safe harbour for the storm of emotions brewing within him.

"They wouldn't listen to reason," he continued, his voice low and defeated. "I've tried, believe me. But logic and compassion seem to be foreign concepts in their world." But still, Geto had to do something right? "Maybe, just maybe, by learning their game, I can break this system and change it from within. But honestly," he admitted with a bitter laugh, "I don't even know if that's possible. Their control is absolute."

The darkness seemed to press in on him, a reflection of the despair that threatened to consume him. He yearned for a way out, a way to break free from the gilded cage his family had built for him.

Your hands squeezed his, bringing him back to the present. "That's a lot to carry," you finally said, your voice soft but firm. "The anger, the frustration, the feeling of helplessness." You paused, letting your words sink in. "But Suguru," you continued, your voice gaining strength, "don't let them steal your compassion, your beliefs. As long as you hold onto them, you’ll find a way. I know you will”

Geto smiled. You were so sweet, so kind, trying to comfort him. It was a small, tired smile, the kind that held the weight of the world but acknowledged a sliver of sunshine breaking through the clouds. Your words, laced with a quiet strength, resonated deep within him. It was true. He couldn't let their greed and corruption taint the core of who he was. But, at the same time, he knew it wasn't wise to hope for much when it came to his parents. Still, he wouldn't burden you anymore with his issue. Maybe a lighter topic would chase away the shadows that had crept into the conversation.

"You're right," he said, his voice regaining a touch of its earlier playfulness. "Now, answer my question from earlier." He raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness, hoping to lighten the mood.

He saw you smile, but it wasn't your usual, happy smile. A faint shadow flickered across your features, a subtle shift in your demeanour that sent a wave of unease through him. "I was in a car accident a few years ago - both my mom and I," you said, your voice softer than usual, your fingers twisting a loose thread on your shirt.

The playfulness drained from his face. An accident? The image of mangled metal and shattered glass flashed unbidden in his mind. "Oh," he stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Another car crashed into ours," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "The driver was drunk. Thankfully, the major impact was on my side, so my mom wasn't hurt too bad."

This wasn't what Geto was expecting to hear. He watched as you reached for your phone, a hollow feeling blooming in his chest. With slightly trembling fingers, you lifted the hem of your jeans, the phone's cool flashlight revealing a constellation of scars that snaked across your calves. Geto's mouth went dry.

You turned towards him, a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes. Hesitantly, you reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, revealing a faint scar that traced a jagged line along your hairline and the back of your neck. The moonlight glinted off the raised, pale flesh, a contrast to the smooth skin surrounding it.

Geto thought he had memorised the expanse of your face, every little detail like the map of a cherished land. But god, was he wrong. He had missed such a big part of you.

Shame washed over him in a sickening wave. He'd been so caught up in his own problems, that he hadn't noticed the silent stories etched across your body. His fingers moved to trace the scar, to feel it under his fingertips, but retracted his hand before it could reach you.

You continued, your voice quiet, "I was bedridden for months, Suguru. I couldn't even speak because a shard of glass had damaged my vocal cords. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to survive, but I did." You let out a humourless chuckle. "I could barely move, I couldn't speak at all, and the frustration – I can't even begin to tell you." You shook your head slightly, a ghost of the ordeal lingering in your eyes.

"My parents were worried, you know, and that's when I started painting," you continued. A small, bittersweet smile touched your lips. "It was horrible at first, of course," you added with a self-deprecating laugh, "but with time, I got better. It became my voice, a way to express the things I couldn't say. Even after I healed, I kept up with it. I wanted to know more – about other people's work, their thought processes, and why they painted what they painted. And so, I chose art as my major." You finished with a shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal or anything.

Geto didn't really know what to say. Words felt hollow compared to the weight of your story. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, the question tumbling out before he could stop it. He mentally face-palmed himself. Really? That was the best he could offer? It sounded insensitive, trivial even, in the face of what you'd been through.

You offered a small, understanding smile. "Sometimes," you admitted. "Not the scars themselves, thankfully. But half of my body is metal now, thanks to the accident. That gets achy sometimes, especially when the weather gets cold." As if on cue, a cool wind rustled through the leaves, and Geto saw the way you flinched so slightly, a shiver running down your body.

Geto's heart lurched. He cursed himself for his obliviousness. Here he was complaining about his family, while you carried the physical and emotional weight of a traumatic experience. Without thinking, he shifted closer, offering you the meagre comfort of his body heat. "Here, let me shield you from the wind a bit."

A warm smile graced your lips as you leaned into him slightly, accepting his support - accepting him. The gesture ignited a spark within Geto, a warmth blossoming in his chest that rivalled the one he offered.

Geto's fingers, which had hovered awkwardly in his lap, found themselves drawn to you again. This time though, they didn't hesitate. With tenderness, they brushed against the cool expanse of the scar on your temple, then trailed down to the faint jagged line along your neck. Your skin felt cold under his warm touch.

You inhaled sharply, your breath catching against his chest. Geto's touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were tracing a sacred map. He met your gaze, the moonlight and stars reflecting in your eyes like a million scattered diamonds. At that moment, it felt like he was peering into a whole new universe, one filled with unspoken stories and hidden depths. A universe he desperately wanted to explore, to get lost in, and maybe, just maybe, find a way back to, together.

His thumb grazed the soft skin of your jaw, a gentle nudge that tilted your face up a fraction. He wanted to see everything, to re-learn every detail etched on your face, the scars, the way the moonlight glinted off the moisture gathering in your eyes. He wanted to learn all your secrets, or at least the ones you were willing to share.

You responded instinctively, leaning in further until the space between you evaporated. Your warm breath mingled with his, a silent question hanging in the air. The stars seemed to wink in approval as the distance between your faces continued to shrink. Anticipation flickered in your darkened eyes, which then fluttered shut as Geto leaned in even closer. Slowly, the space between his lips and yours became nonexistent, a mere breath away.

Just as your lips were about to meet in a brush, The world erupted in a harsh burst of fluorescent light. Both of you jolted back, blinking away the temporary blindness.

It took Geto a moment to realise what had happened. He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the sudden quiet. "We got the power back," he mumbled, his voice thick with the unspoken desire that hung heavy in the air moments ago. His gaze darted away from you for a moment, then returned, searching your eyes for any indication of how you felt about the interrupted moment.

He took in your flushed cheek and your dilated, glossy eyes. That was all the indication he needed. A small, frustrated sigh escaped your lips. "Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment, the intimacy between the two of you, was shattered like a dropped glass, leaving behind a thousand shimmering shards of unspoken desire.

The silence stretched, heavy with what could have been. Geto watched as you began gathering your things, a subtle shift in your demeanour that spoke volumes. You turned to face him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the lingering frustration in your eyes. "We should go now, it's getting colder."

He nodded in agreement, his voice thick when he finally spoke. "Yeah, definitely." He grabbed his jacket and dusted it off, the simple action taking longer than necessary. He watched as you reached for your bag, then blurted out, "Here, let me get that," as he grabbed the bag, relieving you of the weight. It was the least he could do, anyway.

Geto had spent hours with you today, yet it felt like mere moments. "Let me walk you home, please," the words tumbled out before he could stop them, fueled by a desire to prolong this stolen time, this unexpected intimacy.

He held his breath, bracing himself for a polite refusal. But then, a bright smile bloomed on your face, a smile that lit up the terrace brighter than the harsh fluorescent lights that had shattered their moment. "Thank you, Suguru," you said, your voice soft but filled with a warmth that sent a thrill through him. "I'd like that."

“Okay, so what happened next? Did you invite him up?” Maki leaned forward, her eyes eager. She glanced at Yuta, who was also listening intently.

Your friends—minus Inumaki—were gathered at the campus café for a small celebration. You’d just received an A+ on your presentation, and of course, you had to share how Suguru's help had played a crucial role. The moment you mentioned his name, their ears visibly perked up.

It had been two weeks since that night on the rooftop, two agonisingly silent weeks. You and Suguru had barely exchanged any texts, and you hadn’t even seen him around campus.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you shook your head. “Of course not! It was just something we felt in the moment. I don’t think inviting him up would have been a wise decision.” You took a sip of your iced tea, the coolness soothing the flutter in your stomach. Every time you replayed the scene in your head, your heart skipped a little. But the silence that followed since then was deafening.

“It doesn’t sound like ‘something in the moment,’ especially with the way you described everything.” Yuta pointed out. One might think he wouldn’t be interested in such stuff, but when it came to his friends, Yuta was always supportive.

"Maybe," you admitted, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. The truth was, the interrupted kiss felt less like a missed opportunity and more like a promise waiting to be fulfilled. But what if you were reading too much into it? The thought sent a pang of disappointment through you, a feeling you quickly brushed aside.

Maki scoffed playfully. "Girl, you were practically glowing when you talked about him! And no one does what he did just to be friendly, you know."

Your cheeks burned even hotter. Maybe Maki was right. Maybe there was something between you and Suguru. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within you, but it was quickly washed away by a wave of uncertainty. Here you were, falling for him, yet his silence indicated that he probably regretted things—didn’t want it. But then the gentle look in his eyes, his silent support, and the way he held you oh so tenderly, shielding you from the cold...

Ugh, it was all so confusing. "But what if—"

Yuta cut you off with a gentle laugh. "Hey, you never know until you try, right? And besides, even if things don’t work out romantically, you made a great new friend. Win-win, I'd say."

You couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s statement. Yuta always knew how to see the bright side. Taking a deep breath, you decided to focus on the positive. Suguru was interesting, kind, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You could confide in him as a friend. But the way his touch comforted you, ignited you...well, that was definitely more than friendly.

"Yeah, you're right," you agreed, a newfound determination settling in your voice despite the nervousness you felt. "Maybe I'll just...see where things go."

Admitting it out loud felt a lot easier. "I like him, you know," you said, looking at your friends with a small smile. "He’s someone who seems to be interested in something that’s not superficial—like he wants to know me, understand me. And it just seems so rare for someone to be genuinely interested in you, right?"

Your friends looked at you with knowing smiles, a silent encouragement hanging in the air. It was probably more than just liking him, you knew. But admitting it out loud, even with just a hint of the deeper feelings swirling within you, felt like a huge step.

The art exhibition buzzed with a quiet energy. The gentle notes of classical music filled your ears, punctuated by the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses from the nearby champagne bar.

You stood mesmerised in front of a large, abstract piece. It was a puzzle, quiet literally. Fractured squares of vibrant colours and captivating strokes hung on the stark white wall, making an incomplete puzzle, while its other pieces were scattered chaotically on the floor below. The missing pieces created a gaping emptiness in the artwork, a void that tugged at your emotions.

Was it a metaphor for loss - longing? a commentary on the incompleteness of experiences? You longed to discuss it with Yuta. He'd always loved puzzles; his apartment was filled with framed pieces of puzzles he had solved so far. His mind was a kaleidoscope of unconventional interpretations, making you look at things with a different perspective.

A pang of guilt lanced through you. You were supposed to visit this exhibition with your friends, but Maki wasn't feeling well. Yet, here you were, lost in the beauty of the artwork displayed. Although Yuta had assured you he was taking care of her, telling you to not miss this exhibition, a part of you still yearned to be by your friend's side.

“Intriguing, is it?” A voice interrupted your thought. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The voice, once a source of comfort and playful teasing, now startled you. It was him, the man who had vanished after nearly kissing you under the twinkling stars, leaving you with nothing but lingering confusion and a heart full of unanswered questions.

And now, after almost two months, he was here, asking you this bloody question.

Suguru Geto.

Well, if he wants to play it this way, you can entertain him. After all, two can play this game. "It is," you began, your eyes finally meeting his. "But I'm trying to figure out what the artist is trying to show here."

Geto hummed thoughtfully. "You know what I think?" He paused. Was he expecting a response from you? Well, he wasn’t getting any. You remained silent, your gaze fixed on the artwork.

Undeterred, he continued, his voice taking on a philosophical tone. "This artwork seems to be a metaphor for life. Life throws pieces at you, like the ones scattered on the floor. It's all you need to make your life meaningful and beautiful. Opportunities, people, love..." he trailed off, the last word hanging in the air unspoken.

His gaze shifted back to the painting, his voice softer now. "But it's up to you how you make use of those pieces, to put in the effort to fit them together. If you're not careful, if you wait too long..." He paused again, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to regret and longing passing through them. "The pieces might be lost to you forever."

You sucked in a breath. No, he couldn’t mean what you were thinking. After all, the only conversation the two of you had after hanging out on the terrace was when you told him about your assignment and the grade you scored.

Yes, you had texted him a couple of times after that, but the reply seemed…dry. So, you stopped, hoping Geto would reach out to you when he was ready, but the man beside you never bothered to do anything about it.

But your mind replayed the memory of how he held you that night, a tender embrace that spoke volumes without words. It was a gesture that made you feel cherished, as if you were his most prized possession, far above any material wealth the world could offer. And when you shared the news of your accident, his reaction was unexpected - a mixture of regret and concern, as though he wished he had been there for you, even though he didn't even know you at the time.

No.

You couldn’t allow yourself to go there again.

Not if he wouldn’t follow you, keeping up with you.

Your mind buzzed with Geto’s words, his interpretation of the art piece lingering in your thoughts like an unshakable presence. Was he a piece that life had flung your way, meant to enhance the beauty of your existence? Or did he hold some other significance, perhaps serving as a lesson - a piece that doesn’t enhance the beauty of the puzzle, but serves as a guiding force for other pieces? Was he a fleeting moment of joy, destined to fade into memory like the strokes of paint on a canvas? Or was he a constant, a steady presence meant to shape your journey, to teach you lessons you had yet to grasp?

Stop.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to go there. Not again and again.

This man almost kissed you after you told him one of the deepest truths about yourself, and then disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the darkness so similar to the inky blackness of that night. But this time, even the stars weren’t there to keep you company.

Leaving the painting behind, you moved towards a different section of the exhibition. Here, the air shimmered with vibrant light. Holographic projections of the paintings danced around you, painting your surroundings with the artist's colourful strokes. These ethereal brushstrokes, magnified and swirling, seemed to come alive, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of the artist's imagination.

However, the original artworks remained untouched. Hung on the wall next to their holographic counterparts, they offered a more tangible connection to the artist's hand, allowing you to study the physical texture of the canvas, the subtle nuances of the brushstrokes, and the deliberate choices of colour.

The projections painted your off-white dress in different colours, the fabric a soft caress against the skin of your calves as you walked from one painting to another.

Geto followed you closely behind as you navigated through the section, his silence a palpable presence behind your back. You felt his gaze track your movements, but you paid it no mind, completely enthralled by the painting before you.

It was a complete mess. It was a riot of colour, a whirlwind of strokes, a storm of emotions, yet it held you captive. The longer you stared, the more it seemed to transform, the chaos morphing and shifting before your very eyes. What initially appeared as a meaningless jumble began to hold meaning, revealing a hidden order within the frenzy. The chaos formed a structure - The structure within the chaos.

It was almost as if the holograms mirrored your feelings - Confusing, chaotic, shifting.

Lost in the painting's mesmerising chaos, you barely registered Geto's approach. He stood so close behind you that the warmth of his body radiated through your clothes, his upper arm brushing against your shoulder. His voice, soft and low, shattered the silence.

"What are you doing at this exhibition?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Turning around to face him, you finally took him in. Dressed in a brown turtleneck that mirrored the depths of his eyes, his attire accentuated their warm, inviting hue. He wore a casual blazer on top of it, the colour slightly lighter than the colour of his turtleneck. His raven hair, noticeably longer, was tied back in a simple half-bun, the remaining strands cascading down his shoulders. The change, subtle yet noticeable, added a touch of softness to his features.

But what stood out the most were the circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his face. Even as the holograms danced all over his face, they did nothing to conceal his worn-out state; they almost amplified it.

A pang of concern flickered in your chest, a fleeting thought about his well-being. However, you quickly pushed it aside. Geto was the one who decided not to keep in touch anymore, so now it wasn’t your job to be concerned.

But of course, it wasn’t easy to just get rid of your feelings for someone like they never existed, was it?

"This is an art exhibition, open to all," you finally answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and in case you forgot, I am an art student, Geto." Your voice was filled with sarcasm, and Geto chuckled. You smiled sweetly at him as you asked, "What about you?"

"Well," he began, his voice laced with a playful drawl, "as someone just said, this is an art exhibition, open to all." He shrugged, smirking. You gave him one final, unamused look before your eyes turned back to the painting.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the lingering warmth of Geto's presence. Finally, he spoke, "What do you find so captivating about this painting?"

His voice, a soft melody laced with genuine wonder, resonated with a yearning that transcended mere curiosity. It was as if you held the key to answering the storm of questions swirling within him, your insights holding a weight far greater than anything else. A hunger to delve deeper, to peel back the layers of your being until he could see the very essence of you, consumed him.

A ghost of a smile danced on your lips. How could you deny the man who held such profound significance in your heart, the man who yearned to truly know you, to unravel your soul until there was nothing left to be discovered?

No, of course you couldn’t keep away, no matter how hard you tried.

Finally, you answered him. If he wanted a piece of your mind, you would gladly offer it to him. "For me, it’s those golden strokes," you began, "It was definitely a risky move for the painter. Those strokes could have ruined the painting, but it didn't. Instead, it made this painting what we see."

Geto hummed, "So, you feel like that stroke was a bold move for the painter?"

You nodded your head in response. Geto continued, "But what if that stroke ruined the painting?"

A slight smile played on your lips. "Well, then the painter would have learned something important. They'd know they could create the painting again if they wanted to, and that's a power in itself. They'd know they have the skill and the confidence to reach that level of greatness again." You looked him in the eye, your gaze pinning him, "Even if the stroke ended up ruining the painting, the artist could always put in the effort of making it again, and that in itself is a form of victory. They wouldn't be afraid to take that bold step again and again, till the painter gets what they want from the painting."

Geto's gaze drifted away for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words. It was as if he was engaged in an internal debate, weighing the implications of your statement against his own judgement.

“I wish I could look into your mind.” He finally said, his eyes slightly wide in wonder.

But oh Suguru, little did he know, he has been settled there since the two of you met in the cafe.

A soft buzz from Geto’s phone brought you out of your thoughts, making you realise how quiet it was around you. He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed a message. As you watched him, the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and met your gaze. "It was good seeing you again," he said. Were you overthinking, or was his voice a touch more formal than before? "I have to go now. Enjoy the exhibition."

With that, he turned and walked away, his steps hurried, leaving you standing there with a lingering feeling of unease. You hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, and the abruptness of his departure left you wondering about your interaction with Geto.

Soon, you were done with the exhibition, the vibrant colours of the holograms still dancing behind your eyelids. Your mind buzzed with inspiration, the beauty of the paintings displayed sparking a flurry of ideas in your head.

The puzzle painting seemed to mock you as you passed it one last time, the question echoing in your mind: where did Geto fit in your life? What piece of the puzzle was he?

Exiting the building, you descended the stairs, the chill in the winter air making you shiver despite your sweater. As you reached the bottom, your steps slowed, coming to a halt. There was Geto, standing by the entrance. But he wasn't alone. He held a woman close, his arms wrapped tightly around her like he never wanted to let go. Her head rested against his chest, and his eyes were closed, almost nestled against her shoulder. The intimacy of their embrace was undeniable, a silent language of comfort and connection that spoke volumes.

Despite the prickling suspicion in your chest, you knew better than to jump to conclusions. This wasn't your place to pry. Yet, the image of their closeness branded itself into your brain, a searing feeling that left your heart burning.

"Well, don't you two look cute," a voice boomed. You looked up to see a man with white hair and sunglasses approaching them, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Gojo Satoru - the name echoed in your mind - Geto's best friend.

You watched as Geto and the woman pulled away, the woman playfully swatting Gojo's arm. But it wasn't the playful interaction that held your attention. Even from a distance, you could see the lingering longing in Geto's eyes as he looked at her.

It hit you like a punch to the gut. This was what he'd been preoccupied with. This is why he had kept you in the dark. This all felt like a cruel joke, life playing a twisted game on you. Of course he had a girlfriend - a guy like him probably had women lining up around the block.

You shook your head, a humourless chuckle escaping your lips as you made your way down the remaining stairs. Yeah, it was pretty obvious what kind of piece Geto was. A missing piece, a piece that belonged to someone else's puzzle, not yours.

You stood outside maki’s wooden front door, finger hovering over the buzzer. But, before you could ring, the door swung open, its hinges creaking slightly as familiar black, tousled hair came into the view.

Yuta lifted his head, momentarily startled to see someone standing right outside the door, before his eyes met yours. A small smile graced his lips. You took note of the black duffle bag hanging on his shoulder.

You returned his smile, “Leaving now?” you asked him, watching as a small blush crept up his cheek. “Yeah, Maki is feeling better now, so I figured I should go home.” He answered, relief clouding in his eyes before his expression turned curious, “Oh, how was the exhibition yesterday? Again, I am so sorry we couldn’t make it.”

You shook your head, dismissing his apology. “No need to apologise, Yuta.” Despite the events of last night, you found yourself smiling. After all, you saw some works by your favourite artists. You cannot let a man - no matter how much he meant to you - ruin something that you have been looking forward to so eagerly.

“The exhibition was great, Yuta,” You said, as you told him about the puzzle artwork. “I really missed you guys there, you would have loved it too.” You finished, hoping to convey your sincerity with your words.

Yuta’s eyes lit up and his smile widened, “That sounds amazing! I hope next time all of us can go” He said, before gesturing towards his bag, “Anyways, I gotta go now - Maki’s in her room, by the way.” With a final wave, he moved towards the front door, the door shutting behind him as he left Maki’s apartment.

You made your way towards her room, the minty smell of ointment filling your nose. You found Maki sitting on her bed with a small crochet blanket draped over her legs. The vibrant colours of the blanket reminded you of summer.

Maki looked up when you approached, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she rolled her eyes, inviting you to sit on the bed. “I knew I would see your face today.” she said, causing you to smile. Her voice today was a far cry from the shaky, tired voice she had yesterday.

Yeah, Yuta was right, Maki was definitely feeling better.

You also noticed that some colour has returned to her face, and Maki looked better now than she did at college, and this observation somehow soothed and comforted you. You enquired about her well-being and got to know that Maki had a cold and fever, but thanks to Yuta’s support, she was feeling far better.

Oh, Speaking of Yuta…

“So Yuta stayed the night, huh?” You finally asked, an eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing your lips.

Maki rolled her eyes again but she didn’t shy away from the topic. You watched as the top of her cheeks turned slightly pink. It was a rare sight, something you found so cute. Both Yuta and Maki had a similar reaction to a similar situation.

“Yeah, he was just making sure the fever doesn't get worse or anything,” she said, a small smile on her lips as if she was recalling last night. “He was really sweet about it, actually.” She said it as if she just realised it too.

You smiled for your friends, “So, do you want something with him?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Maki’s expression turned thoughtful, though a hint of playfulness remained, “I do like him,” She admitted. There was no hesitancy in her voice. “But I don’t want to force things with him or anything. Just go with the flow, you know?” She met your eyes as she said, “Besides, he is a great friend - that matters above everything else.”

You admired Maki’s clarity. She knew what she wanted.

Nodding your head in response, you reached out to squeeze Maki's hand. But just then Maki let out a small cough. You quickly reached for the glass of water on her bedside table and handed it to her, "Here, take a sip of this."

After a few sips, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Alright," she said, her voice slightly raspy, "enough about me. Tell me what’s going on between you and that Geto guy?" Her gaze, even dimmed by illness, held its usual unwavering intensity. It burrowed into yours, leaving no room for secrets. “And don’t lie, I can tell something is bothering you.”

Your heart sank at the mention of Geto's name, the emotions from last night bubbling back to the surface. You avoided them, though. "I think he's seeing someone else," you admitted with a bitter chuckle.

Maki's frown mirrored your own confusion. "But from what you told me…?"

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, your voice heavy with resignation. "But then again, we didn’t speak for two months. I don’t really blame him for pursuing someone else."

But the ache in your chest refused to dissipate, stubbornly clinging to the remnants of hope you had tried to bury.

You recounted the events of the exhibition, the cryptic nature of Suguru's words, and the sight of him with another woman. Maki listened attentively, her unwavering gaze conveying understanding as you poured your heart out to her.

Maki sighed, her disappointment evident in the furrow of her brow. “The woman you are talking about,” she began, her tone tinged with frustration, “I think I saw her and Geto at a cafe - the description sounds the same. But I didn’t think much of it because I just assumed they were friends or something.” Another sigh escaped her lips, laden with exasperation. “But from what you're saying… man, that guy is so clueless!”

"Now, there’s no point in that anyway," you murmured, your shoulders slumping as you shook your head. "I’m just disappointed because I thought we had something, but I guess I just misunderstood things."

Maki's eyes flashed with indignation. “I saw the way he looked at you in the cafeteria - like a teenage boy looking at his first crush. It was so sweet it was almost disgusting,” she said, her nose scrunching up slightly. “So no, you did not misunderstand things. That guy turned out to be an asshole.”

Maki reached out and squeezed your hand, a gesture so unexpected from her that it caught you off guard. “You deserve better than someone who doesn’t know what he wants.” Her gaze was intense, taking in your slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “You know what?” she began, determination clear in her voice. “Give me your phone.”

“You are not texting him,” you said sternly, though you unlocked your phone and handed it to her anyway.

“Of course not,” she replied with a humourless chuckle. “He isn’t worth my time.” You rolled your eyes at her statement, but the corners of your lips twitched upwards, feeling a bit of the weight lifting off your shoulders.

You peeked over your phone, curiosity getting the better of you. Maki was busy downloading - “A dating app?” you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Maki nodded in response, her fingers flying over the screen as she added a description and prompts to your profile. “But Maki, I don’t want to date someone just like that,” you protested.

“You deserve to meet someone new and exciting. It doesn’t have to be serious,” Maki replied, her voice firm but caring.

You had never used dating apps before, so you felt hesitant to try it out. The idea of swiping left and right felt strange, almost impersonal. But another part of you was curious to see how things would turn out. After all, college was ending soon, you had barely dated anyone until now, and then the thing with Geto...

Maki looked up from the phone, her expression softening slightly. “I know it feels weird, but sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone. Just give it a try. If you don’t like it, you can always delete it.” She angled the phone towards you, the dating app now downloaded and ready to go. “Think of it as an adventure. You never know what might happen.”

Maki began swiping for you, her eyes occasionally flicking up to check your reaction. One particular profile caught your eye. “Wait!” you stopped her just as she was about to remove the profile.

“What? Him? Really?” Maki asked, her nose scrunching up in mild disgust.

“Hey, he looks good, okay? But that’s not the point,” you said, leaning in to get a better look. The picture of a familiar white-haired man stared back at you. “That’s Geto’s best friend, Gojo.” You told her, swiping down on the profile to see more.

You came across a picture of him and Geto, seemingly from a beach trip. Both of them were wearing floral shirts and sporting big grins. The sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. The carefree happiness on Geto's face contrasted sharply with the confusion and heartache you felt.

The text with the picture read:

Yeah, that’s my best friend, but you won’t find him here. His heart is already taken, but mine isn’t ;)

You shook your head, ignoring the icy feeling that crawled up your veins; a feeling that didn’t have anything to do with the cold, biting wind outside. After a few more swipes, you got some matches. Maki took over, texting them on your behalf.

“‘Are you free tomorrow?’” Maki read the text from one of your matches out loud. Yeah, you were free, but was it wise to go out with someone you barely knew? As if sensing your hesitation, Maki said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I think you should.” Then, she added, “It might help you deal with your feelings for Geto.” You noticed a hint of bitterness when she said his name, as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You bit your lip, considering her words. Maki has always been your rock, her advice helping you through the toughest situations. Finally making up your mind, you said, “Yeah, I guess I’ll go out with him - see how it is.” Then, with a teasing tone you said, your voice light, “But I am going only for you.”

Maki smiled at you, her expression lightening. “Great! I’ll text him then.” Her tone turned serious. “But keep texting me, okay? He seems okay, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be worried about you.”

You smiled at your friend’s protectiveness. “Yeah, I will Maki, don’t worry about it.”

A small part of you felt like this was wrong, especially since there was no communication between you and Geto to clear things up. But he had started dating someone else, hadn’t he? His heart was already taken, wasn’t it? So did it matter what you felt for him? Clearly, it didn’t mean anything to him, so the sooner you got over it, the better it would be for you.

The sudden crack of lightning jolted you, sending a streak of black liquid across your eyelid just as you were applying your eyeliner. A muted curse escaped your lips as you grabbed a makeup wipe, determined to fix the line. But the damage was done – a dark smudge now decorated your under-eye. With a sigh, you opted for a clean look, wiping away the eyeliner completely.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a low rumble of thunder. Your brow furrowed as you pulled on your clothes for the date. Winter rain was a rarity, but the damp air and earthy scent were unmistakable signs of a downpour.

You had to hurry now. Getting caught in a winter rain shower was the last thing you wanted, especially with your already achy legs. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that you were looking presentable. Despite the eyeliner disaster, you felt satisfied with your hair and makeup.

You made your way towards the restaurant, taking the subway. As you emerged from the station, the warm, stale air was replaced by a blast of icy wind that stole your breath. It was raining now, but thankfully it was misty; the droplets of water barely felt like anything. The rain clung around your face, blurring the city lights into shimmering halos. The rhythmic rumble of the train faded behind you, replaced by the traffic honks and the murmur of people walking around.

Your legs felt like lead as you trudged towards the restaurant. You'd chosen a cosy Italian place that was a little far from your apartment. Your date had insisted on a ‘middle point’ since he lived far away from your place, and you couldn’t protest.

Doubt gnawed at you. Was this the right way to get over Geto? The memory of his supportive glances and gentle laugh sent a pang through your chest. This date with someone you barely knew, suddenly felt like a flimsy shield against a tidal wave of longing. Yes, you and your date had exchanged some text, but could you really judge a person just through texts? But cancelling now felt like a betrayal – you couldn’t bring yourself to leave someone hanging like that while they waited for you.

With that in mind, you pushed open the glass doors of the restaurant. The smell of molten cheese and basil greeting you, followed by the gentle clink of glasses and happy murmurs. The whole place was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights.

Once inside, you navigated through the crowded space until you spotted a familiar-looking face. Your date's blond hair was combed neatly, but there was something different about his hair compared to the pictures you saw. Still, you paid it no mind as you made your way to the table.

As you reached the table, you noticed an almost empty lowball glass that sat in front of him. It had a single ice cube clinging to the bottom of what appeared to be bourbon, given by its amber colour. Before you could dwell on the obvious red flag, dark hazel eyes met yours.

You forced out a smile. “Hey, you must be –”

The words died on your lips as he cut you off, his voice clipped. "You're late."

Huh?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Looking forward to your feedback 🌷

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I know things take a turn here, and even I wasn't expecting this to happen but it just happened, to the point I had to change the storyline lol

@whereflowerswenttodie @celestie0 @lostfracturess @nakariabnrb @yungbloode

@peppertoastuniverse @hopefulpeachcolor

Stained glass and heart dividers by @/saradika

Line divider by @benkeibear

Galaxy divider by @/cafekitsune

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my-fancy-hat · 7 months

Text

Most romance novels follows an scheme of what love should it goes, how people have to meet and follow a certain path and archetypes to correctly fall in or out of love, that what's makes this kind of stories predictable and boring to some people, but what about love that evolves? love that exists despite the desire for romance/selfishness? what about friendship? family? what if we choose to love ourselves too? to love the path we choose? I think that what Ao no Flag is majoritary about, romance as we know in a love triangle it's just the surface the tip of the iceberg of what this story is about, series of choices where we pray for them to make us happy, to make our loved ones happy, because we want to be brave about the things we love.

The four cour characters are put in one of the most troublesome and chaotic times of every person who had access to the system education can experience: final year of high-school, the deadline between childhood and adulthood, to accept reality on how it approaches us, the fear of rejection and failure of what we are of what we do. Many people incluided me had wished to have been more wise, more patient, more accepting yet strong about our chosen path, and that's what Ichinose, Touma and Futaba had to learn and eventually guided them toward their happy end. Not just that, but the experience many queer people had to endure avoiding the social suicide of showing to the world who we are, this ilustrated with Touma and Masumi's characters, and (subtly yet quite importantly) Ichinose. How can I exists in their world if I live like this? will my parents accept me? they will still think about me as someone successful and worth of their last name? will they disown me? hate me? will my best friend who I am in love with reject me in disgust? It's so easy and understandable to succumb to a hatred that you think you deserve, because at the time it was less painful to play along lying to your loved ones about this secret than "revealing the truth", they deserved to know yet you failed, and this loneliness is what you get. If this is how the enviorment wants you to feel, then isn't it expected that the individual would desire for freedom of it? that's what Touma wished for his future to be, not concrete answer more than to exists without regrets.

The desire for romance can be rightfully observed by its selfish nature, to own the right, the demand for them to love us back, but it can be the exercise to accept ourselves as well. Touma wanted to show Taichi his heart without fears, despite if he would love him back or not, in doing so, he would be walking toward the ideal happiness he dreamed of. To openly love is the call for the indifferent cruel world to see in us the desire for goodness, that in this place can exists kindness too.: Touma most than anything, wanted for Ichinose and (by extention) Futaba, to be happy, to share their 1000+ points of best friend power and make everyone happy. That is, the core of love, to wish the best for your dears, and see them smile.

But accepting and not to, can be actually be the same. Masumi had to constantly fight with herself, with the inavility to change what she can't, to live with the fabricated idea of what she is supposed to be and what she is supposed to do, and what other people would react about it. That's why that, even if I have my reservations about her ending, I find it really meta for Masumi end to end up in a het marriage, making us conclude that at some point she gave up on Futaba, but paradoxically, accepted herself and her reality by coming out as bi. Us readers expected and rotted for her to confess to her crush and end up in similar terms like Touma and Taichi did, but this ending make us putting the lesson she learned though her character arc into practice: what people may think or not about our decisions, is their problem, not ours. Life can be so treacky and unfair, but no matter the circunstances, we can still find and make our place. We deserve it.

A friend or a lover, what is the difference if you just want to share our happiness with them?

That's how you humanize your characters, by expossing through them the good, the bad and the absurd, to tell a story in each how the circunstances molds them, but to oppose what damage us is quite a brave thing to do, even if it's our own mind, and that's what Futaba character speaks to me. The desire for wanting to change, to (once again) accept and not-to-accept. She's a weakling, clumsy girl loaded on self-hatred for her unability to live just as the others do. The fear of have reached your maximum potential and there's nothing else for you to do about it, that you born to live like this for the rest of your life. But she sees in Touma an example of hard work and due to her admiration (mistaked at first for a crush), wants to prove herself that life can be something else. To break our self-stablished limits and see what's beyond, to surpass your limits and try to understand what scares you. To be confident enough to think you have the right to live too. Failure reafims the truth that you are better off muted; what bother trying if it will end up in misery anyways? but the beauty of humankind is the unbeatable hope that things will change, to not give up, and without noticing, we'll feel blessed for have born in this time, in this place.

This as a result inspires Taichi's way of viewing life without him realizing too, just as how Touma's pure-lover heart expeled his sincere feelings ever since they started talking again, to the point to even sacrifice his leg and career for Ichinose: How can I exists and make it up for such people like you? what can I do? It's easy to fill your heart with resentment for the things you couldn't live, to feel prideful as consolation for a lonely life you didn't choose, as the left overs. But what we think makes what we are, if you keep on your days thinking you exists for the things you believe you deserve, to live in the imaginary unbreakable rules you made for yourself, then nothing will change. Touma, Futaba and Masumi changed Taichi's life forever, in the driving force of his spirit to pursue a better version of himself, to live driven by the desire for freedom, for love, and not care of what other people may see this choices.

That's why I think the final chapter is such a piece of art that makes the pay off so satisfying. What tortured him when Touma confessed wasn't that his best friend was gay, or that he lied to him about the nature of their friendship (he didn't): it was the though of losing him, so he chose both options at the end (if the analogy can't be more in the face). But as Yorkie said, it part of the course of life to most likely break up with your first gf, more less if they go to different universities, so them going their separate ways wasn't a surprise, but what made me happy about it that they still ended up in good terms and respected each other deeply for what they lived together. The surprise though comes from the actual realize of which POV we're following at the end, that reveals that Taichi had become Touma's husband. This is where I think Ichinose teach to the audience the lesson he learned from his former classmates, where he reaches for Touma above the lines that divides panels, to reach his husband's hand, the hand he shouldn't hold, and walk together toward home: he surpassed his own limits, his barriers and knew where his happiness lied.

A lot of queer people had *the realization* in their 20s (me included as nb), finally giving an explanation of all our past behaviour. I know before-hand most people got shocked for Ichinose to get reveal as bisexual, but isn't the story already gave us an idea this would happen eventually? when Futaba and Ichinose confess to each other, it's Touma's (and Masumi's) heartbreak that it's on spotlight overlaying their conversation, how Taichi and Touma hand-holding is such a central element for the story telling (literally it ends with them holding hands), and much more? Even Futaba suspected it before himself realized years later.

(it happened twice that when Taichi thinks about Touma what crosses his mind is his well-build chest/cleavage area like, ok)

But what makes the different between friendship and love? can a boy and a girl be friends? can a gay boy have male friends? can I be friends of someone I love and viseversa? can I forgive and maitain what we have? The only certainty I have right now, in this moment, is that I love you so much. I'm so happy to have meet you.

This got too long so to grap my final thoughs and make myself more loose right at the end, I'm so happy for have read this story FULL BLIND OMG I was so conviced that no one would end up together lol the only thing I knew of it is that it talked about queer drama and, textually: "had the ending it deserves". It genuinely made my perspective on some things change for the better. I actually loved so much how this story handles with such maturity a pretty much easy-target for comedy and bitter angst (bury your gays) the premise of "bff is gay and in love with the main character since they were kids". Not only that, but not picking sides of "who deserves who" taking leads between Touma vs Futaba, is quite refreshing for the genre: it humanize and treats fairly each member of the cast, giving proper space for them to explain themselves (worth mentioning Mami I loved her character so much you have no idea). Most of the drama in romance comes from missunderstandings or the lack of dialogue, when everything can be solved if the characters can actually sit and talk their feelings and thoughts out! and Ao no Flag is a masterclass on this manner. The explanation, exposition and introspection of every character struggle, the script, monologues, are so compelling and to the bone, I can't choose which interaction of the cast is my favorite. The pay-off is spectacular because we can actually follow each person train of thoughts and choices in which these end up in, with the faith that this path will make themselves and his loved ones happy, because even if we aren't certain about anything we do, we'll still find meaning in the absudity of destiny (or the lack of it?).

#alot of people search for a babysitter. a father or a mother replacement for a partner. but what about a friend?#passion fades eventually with the course of time but friendship is forever. i want to become my future husband's best friend..#shi so good it made me rethink the concept of marriage #anyways sorry for the long read i hope i made sense!!#tl;dr: i loved this manga sm the ending was a bit rushed but made 100% sense i recommend it so hard #taichi&touma ichinose made me giggle and kicking my feet at my shift (i'm a butcher) like🩷🩷💕💐💐💥💥🔥🚑🚑🪦#what a work of art #hope it gets an anime adaptation i may just explode #ao no flag #blue flag #reading

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