Chapter Text
The second break had just ended when the PE teacher walked into the classroom, whistle dangling around his neck and a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"Alright, out to the pitch. Five minutes. Get changed now."
Taka slowly turned his head toward Toru, who was slouched lazily in the seat beside him. Before he could say a word, Toru was already on his feet, patting his shoulder from behind.
“Come on, shortie. Get changed before your sweat starts to smell like sin.”
Taka sighed. “You’re way too excited to go running in the sun.”
“Who said I’m planning to exercise? I just enjoy watching people suffer.”
“Oh. Sadist therapy?”
“Something like that.”
Taka stood up, slinging his small bag of spare clothes over one shoulder. “Where are we changing?”
“Equipment shed. More peaceful.”
“Are you even human, Toru?”
“Exactly because I’m not, I’m bringing you along.”
Without waiting for agreement, Toru had already strolled out of the classroom. Taka followed behind, rolling his eyes but not exactly protesting either.
---
The sports equipment shed was located at the far end of the pitch, tucked behind a narrow corridor. As soon as the door opened, the scent of rubber, wood, and dust greeted them. There were balls piled in baskets, rolled-up mats, slightly rusted racquet racks, and light from a high window filtering softly into the room.
Toru shut the door with his foot and leaned back against one of the racks.
“Changing now?”
Taka frowned. “Can’t you scoot over a bit?”
“We’re both lads, Takahiro.”
“The problem isn’t ‘lads’. The problem is 'you'.”
Toru chuckled. Still, he turned away—offering a bit of privacy, although his eyes sneaked a glance through the glass panel on the rack.
Taka slowly took off his hoodie, revealing a light grey T-shirt underneath. He pulled it up from the hem, exposing his bare torso for a second—pale skin, slim frame, faint muscle lines under the surface. A small scar was visible on his left waist. Toru noticed... and stared a bit too long.
“What are you staring at?” Taka’s voice broke the moment.
“Old bullying scar?” Toru shrugged.
“Caught myself on a shoe rack while moving. Nothing tragic,” Taka gritted.
Toru pulled his own shirt off while still grinning. “What a shame. I was hoping for a dramatic origin story.”
“Sorry my life isn’t marketable for drama series.”
Just as Taka reached for his sports shorts, Toru stepped closer.
Too close.
“Oi—don’t—”
“I just wanna ask something,” Toru whispered, leaning in and boxing Taka between the rack and his body.
Their breaths nearly touched. Taka’s shirt was half-on, exposing his stomach to the cool shed air.
“Why didn’t you push me away? That time I…” Toru didn’t finish, but the implication was clear.
Taka looked at him for a long moment. His face wasn’t angry—just... confused. Embarrassed. Anxious.
“Because I didn’t understand why you did it.”
Toru moved closer. “And now?”
Taka bit his lower lip for a second.
“Now... I still don’t get it.” He turned his eyes away.
Just before anything more could happen, a whistle shrilled from the pitch outside.
“Everyone to the field, now!”
They froze.
“T-time to run for our grades,” Taka stammered, quickly finishing getting dressed, head down. His face was still red.
Toru let out a low laugh as he walked to the door, tugging his shirt down.
“You still didn’t push me away,” he sang teasingly.
Taka hurled a small towel at his back.
“You idiot!”
---
“Why do we have PE at this bloody hour…?” Taka muttered under his breath.
Toru jogged casually beside him, hands tucked into his track bottoms. “Because the school hasn’t gone full psycho yet. If they were really evil, they’d have us running at two in the afternoon.”
Taka glanced at him, panting. “You’re... not tired?”
“I’m tired of looking at your face.”
“Do you want me to punch you?”
Toru just grinned and veered off toward some of the other lads. Meanwhile, Taka stood at the edge of the pitch, catching his breath and sipping from a small water bottle. His shirt clung slightly to his body from sweat, the shape of his shoulders and slim waist faintly visible from the side.
From the direction of the benches, a few boys from another class had been eyeing Taka.
“Oi, that’s the new kid, right?” one of them muttered, kicking an empty bottle while chewing gum.
“Yeah. The one who looks like some emo Japanese bloke.”
“Kinda cute though. Look at his shoulders... tiny as. Like a kid.”
They chuckled. One of them, clearly the most overfamiliar, strolled over toward Taka.
“Hey, you’re Takahiro, yeah?” he asked, feigning friendliness.
Taka glanced up, still catching his breath. “Yeah?”
“You’re kinda cute. Dead skinny. Bet you'd snap in half if someone hugged you.”
Taka frowned. “What?”
“C’mon, give us your number. Or just your LINE, yeah?”
He said it jokingly, but the mockery was obvious. The others started giggling behind him.
“He’s like a kitten. Feisty, but tiny.”
Before Taka could reply, a shadow loomed and stepped between him and the guy.
Toru.
Expression blank, his gaze cut sharply toward them. His voice was low, but freezing.
“What are you lot doing?”
One of them grinned nervously. “Just chatting, mate. Chill.”
“You got a history of bothering people smaller than you?” Toru asked flatly.
“We were only messing around…”
“Funny. Except you're not.”
Silence fell. Toru stepped closer.
“You’ve got five seconds to bugger off before I cast you in a crime doc as the dead body.”
“Jesus, chill, man.”
“We just wanted to be friends—”
“If I see one of you lay a hand on him again, I’ll snap it. Fair warning.”
They scattered, laughing awkwardly as they pushed each other away. Once they were far enough, Toru turned back to Taka, who was still a bit stunned.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Toru asked.
“I... could’ve handled it,” Taka muttered, looking down.
“Oh yeah? Your internal sobbing echoed all the way to the back field.”
“I wasn’t crying.”
“Not yet.”
Taka glared at him. “Why did you even come?”
Toru shrugged. “Didn’t like seeing you as someone else’s target. That’s my job.”
Taka smacked his arm. “I’m not your bloody property, you git.”
Toru chuckled. “But seriously. You alright?”
Taka lowered his gaze. “...I don’t like being touched by people I don’t know.”
“Noted,” Toru mumbled. Then added, “So I can touch you?”
Taka shot him a look. “DON’T EVEN START.”
Toru laughed, though his eyes kept following the backs of the boys from earlier. His face wasn’t as playful as usual. It was... sharper. More focused.
Without another word, he sat down on the grass, tilting his cap down to shield his eyes from the sun. Taka stood beside him, still gripping his water bottle.
A few quiet seconds passed.
Then, slowly, Taka sat down next to him. The space between them was maintained—but close enough to hear each other breathe.
---
The boys’ changing room reeked of sweat, cheap deodorant, and the sound of people chatting while pulling on clothes. Most students had already changed and left. Only Taka and Toru remained—again.
Taka stood by his locker, struggling to peel off his sports shirt that clung to his skin. Just as he pulled it over his head, a voice from the side nearly made him sprain his neck.
“Your shoulders look even smaller when you’re sweaty,” Toru remarked casually.
Taka hissed. “Shut it, you shoulder stalker.”
“I’m just worried they’ll pop out of place when you unzip your hoodie.”
“Hit me again, Toru. I swear I’ll happily spend a week in detention.”
Toru chuckled as he pulled on his school shirt, which had been hanging up. “By the way… about earlier, on the pitch—”
“Drop it,” Taka cut in, tugging on a fresh T-shirt quickly. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“I wasn’t gonna ask for thanks.”
“Good.”
But when Taka caught a glimpse of their reflection in the locker’s smudged mirror—Toru standing just a bit too close, and not grinning as cheekily as usual—his heart skipped.
One second. Two.
Taka instantly turned away and slammed the locker shut.
“Hurry up, we’ll be late for the next class.”
“Bit eager, aren’t you? Afraid I’ll hug you again?”
Taka kicked Toru’s shin. “Not afraid. Disgusted.”
“Disgusted, yet you didn’t move away.”
“SHUT UP.”
Toru burst out laughing this time. And though Taka scowled... his ears were visibly red.
The sky had turned a soft shade of orange as Taka stepped out of the school gate. His hand clutched the strap of his bag as he looked around.
Ryota had just emerged from the direction of the canteen, a camera hanging from his neck and a plastic bag of canned coffee in hand.
“Yo,” Taka greeted him. “Busy?”
Ryota raised an eyebrow. “Not really. Why?”
“Let’s go fishing.”
“...Fishing?”
“Yup.” Taka stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You like water, right? And wind? And... silence? There’s a river behind the park near school. Heard it’s quiet there.” —though he wasn’t sure fishing in early winter was the smartest idea.
Ryota looked at him for a moment, then gave a small smile. “This is new. You never ask me to hang out alone. Usually you’re stuck to—”
“Say ‘Toru’ and I’ll chuck you into the river.”
Ryota chuckled. “Alright, alright.”
They started walking together along the pavement, casual conversation flowing amidst the sounds of traffic and evening birds.
Then, suddenly, Ryota glanced at the sky and spoke.
“You know... it’s Toru’s birthday today.”
Taka’s steps immediately slowed. “What?”
Ryota nodded. “Saw the date on his LINE profile. He hasn’t told anyone. Not surprising, though. That guy bottles feelings like he hides razors in drawers.”
Taka turned slowly. “Why hasn’t anyone prepared anything?”
“Because he never lets us. Says celebrations are ‘over the top’. But... I reckon if you did something, he wouldn’t complain.”
Taka frowned.
Ryota glanced at Taka, who had suddenly fallen quiet.
“What if we did something small? Doesn’t have to be a party. Just... something to show he’s not alone.”
Taka let out a slow breath.
Then, after a pause, he nodded slightly.
“Okay. But don’t tell anyone yet.”
Ryota gave a thumbs-up. “Your secret’s safe with me. Besides... I’ve already got a good idea.”
They continued towards the river, the sky now a deeper orange, the wind softly rustling the leaves as if welcoming whatever was about to happen.
---
A light layer of snow blanketed the roof and windows of Toru’s house that night. Street lamps outside cast a dim yellow glow into the half-lit living room. Toru sat alone on the sofa, his hoodie loose, hair still damp.
On the table sat a bowl of instant ramen—untouched. The TV was on, playing some unfunny game show. But he watched it anyway.
Because the house was too quiet.
Because today… was his birthday.
And no one had said anything.
“Well, fair enough,” he muttered, leaning back. “Didn’t tell anyone either.”
His phone was in hand. No new notifications. Just the group chat from this morning about the Economics assignment.
He sighed. Then chuckled—alone.
“This is bloody sad, man.”
Just as he stood to turn off the TV, a loud KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK came from the front door.
Toru frowned.
He walked over slowly, still holding his spoon. “Who the hell visits this late...?”
When he opened the door—
“SUUUUUURPRIIIIIIISEEEE!!!”
Toru nearly dropped the ramen bowl in shock.
At the door stood Taka, Ryota, and Tomoya, each wearing a cheap paper party hat and grinning ridiculously.
Tomoya even blew a toy trumpet. “Piw piwww~!”
Toru stared, dumbfounded. “...What...?”
Ryota lifted a scruffy gift box. “It’s your birthday, idiot. Remember your own date or what?”
Toru went silent, trying not to let his expression give too much away.
Taka grinned, holding up a convenience store bag. “No cake, but we brought strawberry ice cream. And a sandwich full of heartbreak and emotional trauma. Per your request.”
Toru looked at each of them in turn.
Then said flatly, “You lot... are bloody awful.”
“Of course,” Tomoya clapped him hard on the back. “But we’re awful who care.”
They stepped inside and started setting up little things: mini candles, a busted stereo playing Avril Lavigne, and a mystery box Ryota had decorated with random stickers and a bald cartoon doodled by Tomoya.
Taka sat on the floor and mumbled quickly, “Go on, open it. I’m embarrassed by the wrapping.”
Toru opened the box slowly. Inside:
An empty ice cream wrapper labelled “Your fave”.
A photo by Ryota: the silhouette of four teenagers walking under a streetlamp.
A chibi-style drawing of Taka throwing a pillow at Toru.
And... a handwritten note, a bit wobbly but clear.
> “𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 annoyi𝘯g 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. –Taka.”
Toru looked down. His hands paused for a second.
Ryota shrugged. “If you wanna cry, it’s fine. We won’t film. Except Tomoya.”
Tomoya raised his phone immediately, camera pointed.
Toru tried not to smile. “You guys suck.”
Taka leaned against the wall. “But you’re smiling now, aren’t you?”
Toru glanced at Taka. For a long moment.
“Well... maybe a bit.”
The remnants of the party were still scattered across the living room: empty snack wrappers, crumpled paper cups, and a small banner that read, “Happy Birthday—Or Whatever.”
Taka stood holding a broom. “Ryota and Tomoya have gone home. Just the two of us now.”
Toru, sitting stretched out on the sofa, was still holding the gift box from Taka. He’d already opened it—but hadn’t said a word. He simply placed it back inside the box carefully.
“Yup,” he murmured. “House is empty. My parents are out of town. And now... it’s just you.”
Taka glanced at the door. “I could go home…”
Toru placed the box down on the table and leaned back. “Up to you.”
“...But I don’t really want to.”
Toru raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Taka resumed sweeping with very little actual purpose. “I’m just... too lazy to head back now. It’s late anyway.”
“Classic excuse to crash here.”
“Well, if you don’t want me to, I’ll leave.”
Toru stood up. “Who said I didn’t want you to?”
They stared at each other for a second—one that felt longer than it should have.
Then Taka turned away, pretending to sweep again. “I’ll just sleep on the sofa. Don’t try anything.”
Toru grinned. “It’s my birthday. You should be the one doing something naughty for me.”
“Arsehole.”
“Cheers.”
Taka exhaled slowly and finally set the broom aside. They sat next to each other on the sofa. Not far apart. But not too close, either.
A brief silence followed.
Toru looked at the gift still sitting on the table. “Were you... serious when you gave me that?”
Taka stared at the switched-off TV. “I... don’t usually give people presents like that.”
“So why me?”
Taka lowered his gaze. “Because you’re... annoying.”
“A very convincing argument.”
Taka threw a cushion at Toru’s face. “Because you’re annoying. And... because you don’t seem to realise people actually care.”
Toru went quiet.
Then softly, he asked, “Do you care?”
Taka shrugged. “Sometimes. When you’re not being a pain.”
The air shifted—quieter, but heavier. Taka fidgeted on the sofa, then suddenly spoke quickly.
“I brought a change of clothes. So... if you don’t mind, I’ll stay over. But—no cuddling. No kissing. And absolutely nothing that falls under the category of ‘crossing boundaries.’ Got it?”
Toru raised both hands. “Relax. It’s my birthday, not a possession.”
Taka sighed, got up, and went to fetch his bag.
Toru watched him go. And though he said nothing, his expression softened. His eyes followed Taka’s back slowly—and a small smile tugged at his lips.
“Oi,” Toru called.
Taka paused, turning slightly.
“Thanks.”
Taka nodded. “You’re welcome, you idiot.”
Taka had changed into a loose T-shirt and trackies, now slouched on the sofa, munching on leftover crisps from the mini party. Toru sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa right beside Taka’s legs, hoodie half unzipped and hair slightly messy.
“I once ate raw shrimp as a kid 'cos I thought it was a sweet,” Toru said suddenly.
Taka frowned. “You were an idiot from day one, weren’t you?”
“I nearly died, mate. They thought it was an allergy. Turns out, I was just stupid.”
Taka let out a snort-laugh. “I used to think the leaking water from the aircon was holy water. I bottled it and threw it at my little brother when he had tantrums.”
Toru turned to glance back at him. “You’re... a monster.”
“I know.”
Their laughter slowly faded into a silence. But the kind that felt... comfortable. Until Toru spoke again, softly.
“Do you like guys?”
Taka turned quickly. “What?!”
“Just asking. Not a confession or anything,” Toru said, pretending to focus on the snacks in his hand.
Taka was quiet for a moment. Then answered in a low voice. “I don’t know.”
Toru didn’t respond. But the space between them seemed to shrink just a little.
“If you liked someone... how would you know?” Taka asked.
Toru thought for a second. “You think about them when you’re brushing your hair, eating, or picking your nose. And you don’t want them far from you.”
“...You think about me when you’re picking your nose?” Taka asked, almost too confidently.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Toru scoffed.
Taka chuckled softly, though his cheeks flushed pink. He nudged Toru’s shoulder with his foot. “Pervert.”
“I’m the pervert? You were the one who hugged me at camp.”
“It was a reflex!”
“A wet reflex?”
“THE WET PART WAS THE RAIN!”
They locked eyes. Their breathing grew quiet—yet heavier. Toru stood, turning to face Taka from close range.
Taka didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned forward ever so slightly.
“Can I kiss you?” Toru whispered.
Taka didn’t reply. But he didn’t pull back either. And when Toru leaned in slowly... their lips met once more.
This kiss wasn’t like the one in the kitchen. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hidden. It was soft, slow. Honest.
Taka’s hand rose gently, tugging on Toru’s hoodie. Their breaths mingled. Toru responded, one hand resting at Taka’s waist—gentle, guiding.
They melted into the moment. Shirts undone. Skin brushing. Breaths irregular.
Toru kissed down Taka’s neck, and Taka inhaled sharply—
“Ngh... not there, idiot...”
Toru chuckled. “Sensitive?”
“You bastard—”
But the words cut off as Taka pulled him back into another kiss, deeper this time. They rolled onto the sofa. Quiet moans filled the room.
Hands. Shifting fabric. Tangled breath. But nothing forced. Just want.
Toru paused for a second, staring into Taka’s face—now lightly glistening, his eyes half-lidded.
“You alright?” he whispered.
Taka opened his eyes for a moment, then nodded... and seconds later, dropped his head onto Toru’s shoulder. “...Sleepy.”
Toru blinked. “Eh?”
Taka had already dozed off. His breathing was deep. His hand still rested on Toru’s chest, but his face looked peaceful. Not blushing. Not shy.
“I was just about to keep going, you little sh—” Toru muttered, but his voice was... tender.
He gently brushed Taka’s hair back, staring at the sleeping face.
“Seriously? You fall asleep right after making my heart go nuts?”
Toru sighed. “You dreaming about me or what?”
No reply. Just a faint, harmless snore from Taka.
Toru smiled. “You bastard.”
He pulled a blanket over them both. And that night, on the sofa of an empty house, in the middle of emotional chaos and temptation, they fell asleep... in silence.