Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"This is a very simple question," Harua sighed, "you can't not know."

"Why am I supposed to know everything?!"

Harua shot Yuma one of his what-are-you-talking-about? looks, where he just blankly stares until the other person cowers. Yuma, unfortunately, didn't like to back up. He stared back, demanding, and Harua let out another sigh. "Your best friend card should be revoked."

"So now it's my fault that I dunno what he does when he likes someone?"

"I know what Taki does when he likes someone."

"'Cause you never dated him!" Yuma said in frustration. "Can we not forget that?"

I'd love to forget about that. "We need to know so we can figure out what to do next, Senpai."

"Well, Jojo likes to bring me to where we can eat."

Since they were still on school grounds, Harua had advised earlier to keep their voices down if they wanted to mention a name. Hearing Yuma say it with a hushed voice didn't help the knot in Harua's throat. He swallowed forcefully. "That's a start, I guess."

"Aaah, this is tiring!" Yuma lay down on the grass, both hands and legs sprawled like a mess. "Can't I just say to him, like, hey, I know you like Maki-kun. You should confess."

Unconsciously, Harua reached out to play with Yuma's hair. He twirled it with a finger, mumbling, "No. That's too straightforward."

"You're making it complicated."

"Senpai, I'm literally helping you."

Yuma moved slowly, only stopping once his head was on Harua's lap. "'m gonna take a nap. So you think, 'kay?"

"Hey!" Harua protested, despite the clanking of his heart. "Seriously, you're not even trying!"

"I'm tireeed. Seniors have many responsibilities, y'know."

"You look free enough to nap at lunch time," Harua commented. He rested his hand on Yuma's head. "And to play cupid."

"Well, I'm doing it for someone else."

"You're not even good at it," said Harua. "Seriously, Senpai. Are you really Asakura-senpai's best friend?"

"Your words are hurtin' me, Shigeta-kun."

When Harua looked down, Yuma had closed his eyes. He let Harua caress his hair softly, accompanied by the gentle breeze playing along. "You're goin' to make me doubt myself," he continued.

"Honestly? I think you should."

"You're so mean!" Yuma protested. Harua jolted when their eyes locked, followed by a fit of giggles because of Yuma's expression. "You're an angel to everyone but me."

"Are you saying that I'm an angel?"

"People say it all the time," added Yuma. "Not me. I don't think you're an angel."

Harua wanted to tease him about how Yuma answered a little too quickly for it to be a casual response, but he was distracted by laughter erupting from somewhere else. He shifted his attention at the same time as Yuma, making a little ooh sound when they both realized where the laugh came from.

"Looks like a lot of people are datin' in our school."

"Well, we're high schoolers," said Harua, "so it makes sense."

"Maybe we should interview them?" suggested Yuma. "Like, how did they meet, and things like that?"

Harua laughed, but it died down fast once he realized Yuma had a stern expression on his face. He frowned. "What? You're serious?"

"I mean … well, it could be a fun little project for us to do?"

"You're … actually serious?"

"You've asked that twice!"

"Because it sounds like nonsense!" Harua refuted. "Why would we do that?"

Yuma sat up, and Harua's lap abruptly felt empty. He laid his hand on where Yuma's head was, toying with a stray fabric. Yuma looked at him with a blank face. "'Cause neither of us knows anything, Shigeta-kun. We need help."

"From strangers?"

"Do you know any other couple?"

"Re—"

"Except them!"

"Hold on." Harua crossed his arms. "How about you? I mean, you and Asakura-senpai dated."

Yuma mirrored the act. "We're not usin' me and Jojo as the example."

"Why?"

"We broke up."

"But you dated," insisted Harua. "That counts."

The sigh that slipped out of Yuma's lips sounded like a defeat, but Harua knew it wouldn't be this easy. He understood Yuma enough now to know he wouldn't back down without a fight, even if it were a petty matter. His eyes followed acutely as Yuma moved to face him fully, and with a grimace, said, "What about you?" He cocked his head to the side. "Why don't we use you as an example?"

Despite feeling flustered, Harua managed to let out a weak "What?" along with continuous blinks. "Me?"

"Yeah." Not long, Yuma smirked. "Don't tell me you've never dated anyone before?"

"I have!" Harua almost shouted. He clicked his tongue. "I have. Why wouldn't I?"

Yuma shrugged. "Just guessin'. I've never seen you datin' anyone before."

"Maybe I kept it as a secret," Harua countered. "We barely talked before … this. How would you know?"

"'Kay, 'kay. That's a good point. I guess you're a bit secretive." Harua pressed his lips when Yuma dramatically waved a hand around, holding a chopstick as if it were a flag. "Fine. We can count on you and your experience, and maybe someone else."

"Wait, wait. What? Why are we counting on my experience?"

"Why? You dated, right?"

Harua noticed how the right corner of Yuma's lips raised gradually. He put the single chopstick back on the lunch box, hands busy with its lid. "Unless … you were lying?"

"I wasn't lying!" Harua scowled. "It just ended badly. I don't want to recount it."

"So we're back to square one, then?"

"Not really," Harua mumbled. He helped Yuma to stack the lunch boxes, their hands slightly brushing when Yuma wanted to pick up the boxes. Harua hurriedly pulled his hand back, shoving it into the pocket of his pants. "I know who can help us."

☆

There was one lie and one truth to what Harua said this noon. First, he had never dated—or maybe it was a half lie and a half truth, since he did date someone when he was in elementary school, if it could be counted. Not that it even lasted for more than a few days. Harua couldn't even remember the name of the person he had dated. But he didn't lie when he said he knew someone who could help them. The answer was in the café in front of him.

But how would one even bring up such a topic?

Immediately as he walked in, the bell rang. The only barista in the room said before moving, "Welcome—oh, Rua-kun!"

"Nicholas-kun," greeted Harua, "hi."

Harua slipped into one of the bar seats, reaching for the menu book without having to wait for Nicholas to answer. He felt the older boy's eyes on him. Harua didn't need to look up to imagine the worried look on Nicholas' face. Nose scrunched, eyebrows knitted together. Classic Nicholas style.

"Is something bothering you?" Nicholas asked, voice thick with worry. "Do I need to fight someone?"

"What?" Harua frowned. "Where is that coming from?"

Nicholas put down the glass he was cleaning. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, you don't sound happy."

"Oh." He blinked. "Things … happened," mumbled Harua. He leaned his forehead on the table, letting out a long, seemingly endless sigh. "But it's nothing serious. Just something I brought upon myself, kind of."

"You want to talk about it?"

How should he answer this? Yes seemed like the most helpful answer, because Harua would love to talk about it with someone else. He hadn't had the chance to talk about it with anyone, unless complaining to the school's pets counts as talking. Harua didn't want to break the promise he had made to Yuma. But if he thought about it, Nicholas wasn't someone from school. He barely knew anyone from Harua's school, either. This cafe was closer to his house than it was to school, and for a second, telling Nicholas sounded like a good solution. Harua knew Nicholas was similar to a safe—he could keep secrets. He had revealed many things to him a lot of time.

"Thank you," Harua said when Nicholas gave him a glass of cold water. The doorbell rang as someone opened the door. "Hey, Nicholas-kun—"

"Nichol—oh! Look who's here!"

"Euijoo-kun!" Harua tilted his head to the right. "Are you done with work?"

Euijoo slid into the seat beside Harua, reaching for Nicholas' hand from across the counter. He entwined their fingers together, answering, "My next class will start around late evening, that's why I came."

A small oh came out of Harua's mouth. He was about to pick up where he left off when Euijoo added, "Hey, I heard something from Moka-chan yesterday." Harua stilled. The coldness of the water bled into his hand, blocking the oxygen from his brain. "She said you have a boyfriend now. Yuma-kun, right?"

He gripped the glass, still careful not to break it, although Harua doubted he had enough power to do it. Nicholas turned to him, eyes wide, mouth gaping. "Wait, I've never heard about this name ever!"

"He's quite popular at school," Euijoo stated, "this Yuma-kun. I've heard his name a few times." He let go of Nicholas' hand, but not before giving it a small squeeze. "His name comes out a lot."

"You've got yourself a popular boy?" Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

The truth lodged itself in Harua's throat. Here came the chance to confess the truth—wide open, in front of him, like a street with no cars. He could cross to the other side with ease. There was no one else here. No one else from school, aside from Euijoo, who knew a few from his job as a cram school teacher. Words slowly clawed their way to his tongue, but Harua swallowed them with the rest of the cold water, fingers clutching his pants. He couldn't say it. He shouldn't. He didn't want to break Yuma's trust, even for his own comfort.

"Are you doubting me?" Harua asked, trying to sound offended. Nicholas and Euijoo laughed. "What—hey! Do I look like I'm not capable of doing that?"

Within a second, Nicholas shook his head. "Well, no. It's just that … it never crossed my mind that your first boyfriend would be … a popular guy."

"I think I'm more curious about how you"—Euijoo pointed at him—"aren't more popular. I mean, look at you!"

"… me?"

"You understand what I'm talking about, right, Nichol?"

Nicholas hummed. "He's … what do they say? The word for guys who are handsome, but also pretty?"

"Bishounen?" Harua offered, albeit the confusion on his face.

At his answer, Nicholas snapped his fingers. "Yes! Bishounen." He nodded. "You look like a prince."

He choked on the air stuck in his throat. Harua frantically waved his hand in front of his face, repeatedly saying, "No. No. No way!"

"Now that Nichol mentioned it," mumbled Euijoo, "Moka-chan and Mari-chan said the same thing. They said that they didn't know there was someone who looked like a prince at school."

"Our Rua-kun is pretty quiet, isn't he?" Nicholas threw a smile at him, half-fondly, half of it smothered in mischief. "Unless you reaaaally know him, you won't find out how snarky he can be."

"I'm not snarky," complained Harua. "I just have a sharp tongue."

Nicholas snorted. "Same difference."

Before Harua could retort, Nicholas had shifted his whole attention to a new customer who had walked in. Harua watched as his pseudo-big-brother walked away, leaving him together with Euijoo at the bar. Nicholas had served them a plate of various sweet and savory snacks in the middle of the conversation, and Harua couldn't help but slip out a fond smile at Nicholas' sweet demeanor. Euijoo seemingly caught his smile, because he said, "Nichol is very sweet, isn't he?"

"You won't say that in front of him," responded Harua. He elbowed Euijoo gently. "The two of you always talk sweetly behind each other's backs."

Euijoo blushed. He stirred his half-cold coffee, muttering, "Well, it's kinda hard when you started as friends who bicker all the time." He paused, two fingers reaching for a potato chip from the snack platter. "It gets easier, though. We're getting better at it."

"How?"

"That's a nice question," Euijoo mumbled, as though Harua were one of his students. He fixed the position of his square glasses, pushing them upward. "I guess what stopped us was pride. We were," Euijoo paused to laugh, "scared, I think? Of what each other would think when we say those kinds of things out loud. After all, we were friends before, and we weren't the type to say things out loud." Euijoo smiled, fondness wrapping every bit of his lips in its embrace. "But as time goes by, I just stopped thinking it's cheesy. Nichol started it, though. So I became more … comfortable with it."

Harua giggled. "You're really in love, huh, Euijoo-kun."

"No use in denying it now, right?" Euijoo grinned. "It's hard not to love him."

In response, Harua faked out a retch. He laughed when Euijoo jabbed his waist lightly. "How did it start with you two, though? I mean, how did you start dating?"

Euijoo chewed on the potato chip he reached for, slowly stirring his coffee again. The crunch disrupted the gentle music playing in the cafe, but Harua was used to it. He took a piece of cookie for himself, biting with an expectation of the usual crunch, but instead the cookie crumbled in his mouth. "Oh, wow."

"Is it good?" Euijoo asked. "They've been trying out a new soft cookies recipe for a week. It isn't in the menu yet, though."

"It's delicious!" Harua exclaimed. He took another bite, smiling like a little child who had just gotten a new toy to play with. "It's soft, but not too crumbly. And it's still chewy. It's perfect."

"Nichol would be happy to hear that." Euijoo crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back in the chair. "Nichol and I … well, we didn't just randomly fall in love. I think I fell in love because I was used to his presence, you know? Since he was always there."

Euijoo halted, taking a sip of his coffee. Harua could see the glass sweating and wondered if the flavor had been a little diluted, but Euijoo looked like he still enjoyed it. "I don't know about Nicholas, but maybe it was the same for him. Before I knew it, I would try to find him in every crowd, or long to be with him. Sometimes, I can only see him." He tried to mask his reddening cheeks by tipping his head up, yet failed miserably because Harua saw it. "I confessed when I was drunk. It was a mess." Euijoo shook his head. "But it was very us. I confessed again in the morning, though. I didn't want him to think I was joking or anything."

"I thought those scenes only happened in movies," Harua joked. "But that's … so you. And Nicholas-kun too."

"Oh, yeah. It was a whole thing. Nichol avoided me for a few days after, then he called and said he liked me too." Euijoo rested his left elbow on the chair's top rail, a soft smile adorning his face. His eyes were looking at Nicholas, who was cleaning one of the tables. "It's been a year since then."

Without missing a beat, Euijoo turned his face to him. "How about you and Yuma-kun?" Euijoo snapped his fingers. "No, wait. What kind of person is Yuma-kun, anyway?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Nicholas-kun for this?"

"I'll just tell him about it at home," said Euijoo. "So?"

Harua reached for another cookie, but stopped and let his fingers linger on the side. No one ever asked him this question, he realized. They were always interested in how they met or how they started dating, but not in how Yuma was. Harua reckoned it was because the people who knew came mostly from their school, and they already had an idea of Yuma. He picked up the crumbs on the plate, scattering them on one side. Did they ever ask Yuma about him?

"Nakakita-senpai is nice," Harua muttered. "He likes to annoy me, but … well, he does it in a way that doesn't really annoy me." A smile found its way to bloom on his face, and Harua unconsciously tried to hide it with his hand, yet he knew Euijoo saw it because he smiled at him. "He takes care of me. I think I've been eating properly since he's around, or else he'll get angry." Harua laughed. "He looks like a cat, and acts like one. And I would guess you've already known about how friendly he is."

Euijoo hummed. "I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"Like this," Euijoo reiterated. He waved his hand a few centimeters away from Harua's face, saying, "All smiley and giggly, like this."

"I'm not giggly," Harua refuted.

"You are." Euijoo had a stern look on his face. "You're blushing."

"It's the heat," Harua gave out. He bit into another piece of cookie, looking at it as if it were the most interesting piece of art in the world. "It's been unbearable these days."

"We're inside, Harua-kun," Euijoo sighed. "The AC is—well, I guess you just don't like the heat."

"I'm not the best with it," he admitted.

"It's uncomfortable, huh?" Harua nodded. "How is school, though? Is everything well?"

"We're already starting the school festival discussion." Harua turned his chair around. "You and Nicholas-kun should come!"

"Is it allowed?" Euijoo asked.

"People come all the time," answered Harua. "You haven't been to one, right?"

"Oddly." Euijoo laughed. "I've only been to the university ones."

"Well, ours will be more fun," Harua said proudly. He grinned, looking at Euijoo with twinkling eyes. "I have a little bet with Nakakita-senpai to see whose class will have more customers. My class hasn't decided on anything yet, but I'm sure we'll gain more visitors!"

"What will Yuma-kun's class do?"

"A café … or something. If they go through the usual route, I guess it'll be a maid and butler one." Harua played with the cookie between his fingers, rotating it lazily. "Nakakita-senpai is pretty. He'd look good as either."

Euijoo's lips turned into something similar to a smirk. "You want to see him dolled up?"

"No?" Harua frowned. "I just think he's pretty."

"You should bring your boyfriend to meet us," Nicholas chimed in. Harua jumped in his seat, scowling at Nicholas. The target laughed, clinging to Euijoo like a cat seeking attention from its owner. "He needs to get our approval before you two do anything together."

"We won't do anything." Harua put his fist underneath his chin, completely used to the scene in front of him—Euijoo and Nicholas acting like there were only the two of them in the world, even though they were still responding to him. "And you're not my parents. I don't need your approval."

"In a way, we are. So, yes, you do."

Nicholas' answer fished an exasperated puff out of Harua. He couldn't refuse the idea. Nicholas and Euijoo had taken care of him when his parents couldn't—they were his second parental figures, although Harua would argue that older brothers suit them better, considering the three-year difference in age.

It had been two years since the three of them met. At that time, Euijoo and Nicholas were merely best friends. Harua was only in his senior year in middle school, but he could sense that there was something going on between them. It was hard to ignore it. Nicholas looked at Euijoo as if he had put the stars in the sky, and Euijoo smiled at Nicholas with the fondness only a genuine love could bring out. One time, Harua wished he could find a love similar to theirs—minus the painful longing. Taki had told Harua that he watched too many romance dramas, but Harua swore that if Taki spent as much time with them as he did, he would see it too. Unfortunately, Taki met Euijoo and Nicholas when their friendship had turned into a romantic relationship, and Harua couldn't prove his argument right.

"Fine," he huffed. "You have to come to the festival, then. I'll introduce the two of you there."

☆

"Why do I have to meet them?"

Harua stayed still as Yuma brought out two pairs of chopsticks. He answered while taking a pair, "Because you have to. As I said, they're like my big brothers."

"Your brothers are …" Yuma made up a fake surprised face. "… datin'?"

"You know that's not what I meant," Harua scoffed, throwing a glare at Yuma, which was received with a giggle. "They won't do anything. They're just nosy."

Yuma pinched an octopus-shaped sausage with his chopsticks. "That means they care about you."

"I know that," Harua said quietly. He waited for Yuma to eat before taking some for himself. The two ate in silence for a few minutes, seemingly famished from the long hours of school, despite it being only midday. Harua skipped breakfast because he woke up too late, and he remembered that Yuma had P.E. as his second subject today. No wonder he just dragged Harua out of his class into the schoolyard. It had become a routine every Wednesday.

"Where did you meet them, anyway?" Yuma asked. "When?"

"Two years ago," Harua answered. "Or … almost three? I'm not sure." He finished chewing on the sausage in his mouth before continuing, "Euijoo-kun was my tutor. He's teaching at a cram school now, but he was a private tutor. I met him through Nicholas-kun."

Yuma leaned on the tree behind him. The wood seemed sturdy, and Harua doubted it was comfortable. He could've used Harua's back instead. "How did you meet this Nicholas-kun?" Yuma blinked a few times. "Wait, are they foreign?"

"Euijoo-kun is Korean." Harua picked up an omelette roll. "Nicholas-kun is Taiwanese. I met him while he was working as a part-time barista."

"Were they already datin' then?"

Harua took a deep breath. "You have to prepare yourself for the story I'm about to tell …."

He started from the beginning, and the story took about 12 minutes to reach the present time. A piece of guilt arrived as he realized how jumbled the story was when it came out of his mouth. Euijoo and Nicholas' story itself was already one big old mess, and Harua wasn't the best storyteller. He expected Yuma to interrupt in the middle. It was long, filled with people he had never met, yet Yuma listened quietly without intervening. He would only occasionally reach for his food, but his eyes barely moved away from Harua, who pretended it didn't bother him, although it made the air feel suffocating.

"… and that's how they ended up dating," Harua concluded. "They live together now."

"Wow," Yuma exhaled, "you had to deal with that?"

Harua laughed. He played around with the rice sticking to the lid of the lunchbox. "Fifteen-year-old me didn't know what to do with any of that."

"But you love dramas, don't you? Wasn't it fun?"

"It wasn't that fun when it involved people that I care about," said Harua. "I didn't like seeing them sad."

Yuma poked Harua's right cheek with his chopsticks. "Aren't you the sweetest?"

Harua playfully swatted the chopsticks away, earning a long string of laughter from Yuma. He only stopped when Harua gently shoved a half piece of omelette roll into his mouth. Yuma scowled, but chewed it anyway. "But we can't use their confession way," he said after swallowing. "We can't drink."

"Obviously." Harua rolled his eyes. He took a sip from Yuma's drink, ignoring his muffled complaint. "But, you know. Maybe the festival would be the perfect time for a confession."

"Classic," Yuma commented, "but it's never wrong. We still need to get them on a date first, though."

"I think they go on dates," Harua mumbled. "I mean, if Asakura-senpai truly likes him, he'd ask him out, right?"

"Jojo is shy." Yuma put his chopsticks away. He sighed. "I'm starting to think we should just confront him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Well, duh."

"Don't go sassy on me!"

"You were askin' for it," Yuma muttered. "You rolled your eyes first."

Harua moved closer to Yuma, albeit a frown pasted to his face. Yuma, back still against the tree, rested his head on Harua's shoulder. Harua wondered if he could hear the drumming beat of his heart, because it sounded like thunder to his ears. Harua watched from the corner of his eyes as Yuma shifted, finding a comfier position. He squared up his shoulders, leaning closer to Yuma. "I guess we'll find a way later."

"That later needs to happen soon," Yuma softly said. He pressed his cheek to Harua's shoulder. "It's been … what, six weeks?"

"We've both been busy," Harua sighed. "You have to study too, and with the festival coming up, our focus is divided."

"We only got a few weeks left, though."

Oh. Of course they did. Harua had almost forgotten about the agreed duration of their relationship. Yuma had somehow become an important part of his daily life that Harua couldn't really imagine his days without Yuma in them. It sounded strange—even stranger than when they first compromised to fake-date. Harua tried not to show it, but sadness bled into his voice as he said, "We've got enough time. We'll figure it out."

Yuma seemed to be unaware, because he just nodded and changed the topic. "What is your class doin' for the festival?"

"I won't tell unless you tell me first."

"That's not fair!" Yuma protested. "I'm a senior. I should know."

Harua raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are we playing this game now?" He moved just enough to annoy Yuma, then chuckled and went back to his original position. "Your class is probably doing something boring," he prompted, "that's why you want to know what mine is doing."

Yuma quickly sat upright. "What—my class isn't doing anything boring!"

With his fist under his chin, Harua went on, "You're probably doing a maid and butler cafe. Boring stuff."

"We're not doing that!" Yuma glowered. "We've done it two years ago," he added quietly.

Harua had the time of his life laughing at Yuma's flustered face. Teasing Yuma felt easier now that he knew which button to push. It was even easier when Yuma was already tired, although Harua could come upon a dangerous territory if he did too much. He always made sure not to cross any line. "Are there any pictures?"

"'m not showin' you any."

"So there are pictures?" Harua asked, maybe a little too excitedly. "I want to see! Show me the pictures!"

"'m not showin' you any pics!" Yuma shouted, gaining attention from the students around them. He was quick to hold onto his phone before Harua could touch it. "Shoo! Go away!"

"I bet you wore cat ears with your costume."

"You—" Harua dodged easily when Yuma wanted to jab his waist. He laughed loudly, watching as Yuma's face only became redder within the passing seconds. "You brat! You will pay for this!"

☆

Harua, in fact, didn't pay for anything because, as it turned out, playing cupid while planning for a festival was already a series of tedious tasks. They had to study for the midterm exam too, and their time together was lessening as exam days were getting closer. It had been a week since their bickering at the schoolyard, yet neither of them could think of anything. It was time for Harua to choose the call a friend option, which he forgot existed.

"We're studying, okay?" Taki warned. "Don't get distracted."

He hadn't even prompted anything that was worth a warning. Harua jutted out his bottom lip. "It's just math."

"You barely passed last term," Taki said. He sipped his iced tea, looking at Harua with a tangible desperation. "We have plans this holiday. Don't mess it up."

"I barely had time to study last term!"

"You just prove my point." Taki opened his math exercise book, then pointed to one of the pages. "We'll do this one first, then discuss it, 'kay?"

Harua exhaled a half-hearted okay before beginning to read the questions, which just swam freely in his head since he couldn't focus one bit. The words and numbers kept passing by like a train and left Yuma's face in their wake. Harua squinted, in hope of solving at least the first exercise, but the plan of asking Taki for advice interrupted his mind every second. He fidgeted with his pen's button, making endless clicking sounds, muttering incoherent words under his breath. Taki, seemingly used to it, didn't bother to say anything. His nose was deep in his book, and it took Harua three times to receive his attention.

"What is it?" Taki asked without any annoyance in his voice or expression. "Do you need help?"

"Yes," Harua immediately answered, "but … well, not in this."

"Harua," Taki sighed. He leaned back to the windowsill, left hand gripping his book, while the other rummaged through his pretty long hair. "You have to focus. The math exam is, unfortunately, the first one next week."

"I can't focus," Harua admitted. He put his pen down, taking a deep breath. "I need your advice."

"Like, what? On school stuff?"

Harua scowled. "No. On relationships."

At his answer, Taki's expression quickly changed. It had the kind of worry he usually showed when Harua forgot to bring his lunch to school for three consecutive days and only brought snacks with him. "Are you having troubles with Nakakita-senpai?"

"God, no." The thought itself tickled his skin uncomfortably. "No. It's … it's about someone else's relationship."

"Is it Euijoo-kun and Nicholas-kun?"

"Fortunately, they're as married as ever." Harua shook his head. "It's Asakura-senpai and Maki-kun."

Taki looked a little bit more confused now. "What?"

Before he realized, Harua ended up telling Taki about the whole cupid thing, with a few important details left out—like how his relationship with Yuma is fake, and how they "dated" only to encourage Jo to pursue his crush. "We're quite literally stuck."

Taki was quick on wit—perhaps even quicker than Harua. Despite the three-day difference in their age, and the times Taki said Harua seemed like an older brother, Taki often sounded more mature than Harua. He gave the best advice, and Harua knew he could count on him, even with weird situations like this.

If only he could tell Taki about his relationship with Yuma.

"It's easy," Taki responded after pondering it for what felt like five seconds. "Just go on a double date with them."

It wasn't as if Harua didn't consider the option. He did, and even considered asking Yuma about it. He could just go, Hey, what if we go on a double date with your ex and his crush? You know, the one you probably haven't moved on from. Sounds perfect, right? and possibly be cut off from Yuma's life forever. That sounded like a great idea.

But he erased the idea once he remembered it could hurt Yuma.

The fast food restaurant they chose was filled with students from various schools—a few shared the same one as theirs. The sun had begun to retire, and its soft light spilled through the big windows, giving books and faces shadows. Harua stayed quiet for a moment, distracting himself with one of the customers, who was busy playing with her phone instead of the book lying open in front of her.

"Isn't it weird?" Harua at last asked. "I mean, you know they … dated, right? Asakura-senpai and Nakakita-senpai?"

"You're still calling your boyfriend by his surname?" Taki frowned. "I don't think it'll be weird. I mean, he's dating you, so he has moved on, right?" The lines on his forehead deepened. "Right?"

I don't know, Harua wanted to confess. He had been spending countless nights wondering if Yuma had moved on. He couldn't read his expression or behavior when Liz talked about Jo, and he didn't know where the slight change in his tone whenever they talked about their plans came from—what was left of his romantic feelings for Jo, perhaps? Some kind of longing that stemmed from having to remember how your ex-boyfriend treated you right when you were dating? Or was it just pure annoyance after failing to think of anything for days?

He would like to think that Yuma had moved on, but his eyes would still trail to Jo whenever they passed by him. The fondness in his smile didn't disappear even when Jo was out of sight, and Harua could hear the heaviness in his voice when he had to talk about their breakup. Yuma had some things reserved for Jo—a smile, a tone, a stare—that Harua wished were for him instead.

"Right," Harua managed to gather. His eyes darted to the swimming words and numbers again. "Right. Yeah, of course."

☆

"Taki's advice doesn't sound bad, though."

Nicholas' cafe wasn't as busy as usual on Thursday afternoon. It seemed as if everyone decided to go home or visit other places, so Harua could have Nicholas' full attention. He jabbed at a piece of strawberry with a fork, mumbling, "But still, Asakura-senpai is his ex."

"But both of them had moved on, right?" Nicholas pulled out a chair to sit across from him at the bar. "They chose to be best friends. It shouldn't be weird at all."

"I don't know," Harua sighed. He stabbed another piece of strawberry. "I feel weird."

"Are you jealous?"

"What?" Harua looked up to Nicholas, who was smirking. "Me? No!"

"You sound like you are," said Nicholas, laughing. "I mean, that's normal. I would be a little jealous too if Juju had an ex."

Harua knitted his eyebrows together."Euijoo-kun had never dated anyone?"

"None that matters." Nicholas popped a piece of strawberry into his mouth. "The shop down the block sells the best strawberries, I swear."

"It's sweet," Harua agreed. "Wait, is this his first relationship?"

Nicholas nodded. "If we ignore the silly, childish relationships, yes."

"Silly—what? Like what?"

"Relationships under a year," Nicholas explained. He leaned forward, the soft evening sun casting its light on his glimmering blonde hair. "Or under six months. Doesn't mean the feelings don't matter, though."

Harua failed to stop himself from blurting out, "What if it lasted exactly six months?"

"It must've been kind of serious," he answered. "But, I don't know. I mean, you guys are high schoolers. Can you even have serious relationships?" Harua must have shown whatever he felt on his face, because then Nicholas continued, "Damn. You're actually jealous, huh?"

Jealousy wasn't exactly a strange concept. Harua had felt jealous before—if it could be called jealousy. He remembered jealousy described as some kind of raging fire, not an uncomfortable feeling gnawing at the pit of his heart. "I'm not," Harua quickly said. He put a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, allowing the sweetness to overwhelm his senses. "This is it. I'm never going to another cafe again."

Nicholas grinned. He ruffled Harua's hair, ignoring his protest. "No one can make strawberry parfaits as good as I do."

"Nakakita-senpai should try this." Harua swatted Nicholas's hand away from his head. "Can you make it with kiwi?"

"I can make anything," Nicholas said with pride all over his face. "Does Yuma-kun like kiwi?"

"Why are you calling him Yuma?"

"I can't?" Nicholas slightly frowned. "Juju calls him that, too. So does Moka-chan." Then, he apparently registered something. "Why do you call him Nakakita?"

Harua shrugged. "That's his surname."

"You're his boyfriend," Nicholas said, slowing down on the last word as if it were a foreign language. "Aren't you?"

"Of course I am." He had never been as quick to reply. Harua scoffed. "It's just … he's been Nakakita-senpai my whole life. It feels weird to call him with his first name."

"That doesn't make sense. You two are dating."

"It's complicated," Harua said. He waved a hand in front of his face. "When did you start calling Euijoo-kun with Juju, anyway?"

Nicholas stood up to reach for a glass, but stopped in the middle of the action. "I don't know," he mumbled loud enough for Harua to hear. "I just started calling him Juju out of nowhere, and it continues 'till now. Maybe 'cause his name is too long?"

"But only you call him that."

"Guess I'll be a bit jealous if someone else calls him that," confessed Nicholas, masking the bitterness Harua heard in his voice with a small laugh. "The name Juju makes him sound rounder."

Harua let out a small hum as an agreement. His mind began to ponder on the nicknames he could give to Yuma, and how he would react to them. Yuma-kun sounded like the safest option, but everybody else called him that way. It didn't seem like anything special. Somehow, Harua disliked it. That weird feeling raised itself again—jabbing at his sides, trying to gain his attention. Harua tried to pay it no mind by asking Nicholas another question. "How did you choose the name?"

"I didn't really think about it." Nicholas sat down, taking a big gulp out of the cold water in his glass. "It just came to me at that moment. It felt right."

Nicholas paused for a good minute, then added, "I feel like it will just hit you once you've felt entwined enough with them, y'know what I'm saying?" He laughed. "Like, it just hit. Oh, I've been too entwined with this person, I might as well give them a nickname." Harua must have looked at him with confusion that it urged Nicholas to explain further, but he changed his mind the moment he opened his mouth and instead said, "You'll feel it when the time comes."

"What?" Harua blinked. "You need to explain more! I still don't get it."

"It's not something you get," emphasized Nicholas. "It's something you feel. Trust me, you'll feel it one day."

☆

One day didn't even pass when the time came for Harua to feel it. The time came a few minutes after he exchanged a few words with Euijoo outside the cafe, ending the conversation with a see you soon before heading to the train station.

Harua was humming to a song he heard Yuma singing to yesterday afternoon when they ate lunch together. It was the first time in a week, and Harua couldn't help but smile as Yuma's laugh came to his mind. It was nice to hear it again after a week full of endless studying. They couldn't meet because both of them had to focus, but Yuma found a free time in his schedule, and so did Harua. They talked about everything that happened within the days they didn't meet. For once, they didn't talk about Jo, Maki, or any of their cupid plans while conversing. It wasn't much, but Harua enjoyed it.

As he was waiting for the lights to turn green, he heard a voice. "Harua-kun?" Someone called out. "You're Harua-kun, right? Yuma-kun's boyfriend?"

Harua turned his head to see two people he had never met. "Uhm … yes?"

"See, I was right!" The girl squealed. "I guess the rumors are true, huh? You do look like a prince!"

"He does," the boy beside her said. He nodded his head, and Harua felt like a public attraction with the way his eyes scanned him from head to toe. "Hm. You suit Yuma-kun very well," he added, "a prince and a prince sounds like the perfect couple."

"A pair of pretty boys! As Heaven intended it."

"You're throwing words so easily," the boy scoffed. "Guess you're right, though. No wonder you're a hot topic now, Harua-kun."

Was that a compliment? Harua tried his best to keep a neutral face, but he couldn't stop his eyebrows from furrowing. It felt weird to get compliments from strangers, although this wasn't the first time. Still, hearing it from students from the same school felt odd, because it had never happened. Harua was almost always invisible. He rarely got any attention unless it was needed—for a presentation, maybe, or if the Painting Club achieved a new trophy. But this was new, and he stood awkwardly as the two showered him with nice words that felt pretty suffocating. The compliments they threw around were scattered around his feet, missing the target, which was probably Harua's heart. He couldn't comprehend them as their voices were drowned out by his own confusion. Why were they complimenting him? How did Yuma's name slip easily from their mouths? This was new. This felt overwhelming. Harua wanted to run as fast as he could across the street.

Harua wished Yuma were here.

"Say, Harua-kun—"

"'Kay, that's enough, you two!"

A hand wrapped his wrist warmly. The familiar weight felt comforting, and Harua didn't have to do anything to know it was Yuma. He rested his head on Harua's left shoulder, pulling him closer. "Shoo! Leave my boyfriend alone!"

"Eh? We were just complimenting him!" The girl complained with nothing but mischief in her voice. "You're pretty possessive, Yuma-kun."

"You guys are troubling him," Yuma uttered. "Don't disturb our date."

"What—you disturbed ours!"

"'Cause I was bored," Yuma said matter-of-factly. "My boyfriend's here now, sooo …."

"Now he's abandoning us," said the boy, "'cause his prince's here."

Yuma tightened his hold. "'Course. Now, shoo. Move along! You're gonna miss your reservation if you don't go now."

"Oh, shoot. He's right." The boy—Harua never learned his name—grabbed the girl—his girlfriend, it seemed?—by the wrist. "C'mon, babe. We're gonna be late!"

"G'bye, Yuma-kun, Harua-kun!" The girl shouted as she was dragged along with the boy. "Let's have a double date soon!"

Harua followed Yuma's waving hand. He mouthed goodbye and turned around when Yuma tugged his hand. "Wanna walk to the next station?"

That would be a longer route, but Harua nodded. He intertwined their fingers as he followed Yuma's steps. Yuma spoke again, "Sorry 'bout my friends. They're kinda nosy."

"It's okay," answered Harua, "I don't mind."

"Sure," Yuma snorted. He pulled Harua's hand closer to his body. "You looked like you were gonna cry."

"I didn't."

"You do, actually. You were tearin' up."

"I wasn't!" Harua pinched Yuma's wrist softly. Yuma let out a gleeful laugh. "I just wasn't used to it."

"With the compliments?" Harua nodded. "With that face?" Harua nodded again. "Man! Maybe people are stupid."

"Because they don't praise my face?"

Yuma hummed. "I mean, you got the face."

Harua shot up an eyebrow. He took a step forward, stopping Yuma in his tracks. "So you think I'm handsome?"

Yuma flinched. He stepped back, letting go of Harua's hand. "Cheeky brat."

"This cheeky brat is said to be handsome enough for you," Harua teased. He dodged Yuma's hand, laughing as he caught it instead. Yuma scoffed, but he didn't attempt to pull away.

"My friends have been sayin' that." Yuma hit their shoulders together. "You're pretty popular now, Shigeta-kun."

It felt weird to hear Yuma calling him by the name they had both agreed on. The name sat oddly around his ears, and Harua tried to fend it by saying, "Yeah. That was the first time I was recognized as someone's boyfriend."

"Do you mind?"

Harua's lips curled into a soft smile. "No. I don't mind at all." His hand crawled down to touch Yuma's fingers, and was met by a comforting weight wrapped around his own. "I was just confused." But it was nice. I liked it, Harua kept to himself.

"That's cool," Yuma mumbled. "I wanna get a drink. Do you want one?"

He shook his head, then let go of Yuma's hand slowly. Harua sat on a nearby bench. "What are you getting?"

"Water," Yuma answered. "'m parched."

Harua hummed uncommitedly. He threw his gaze around, searching for something else to look at before his heart burst at the view of Yuma under the streetlight. For a second, Harua thought he was an angel. The soft light cast a translucent halo above his black hair, and although Harua could only see him from the side, the half of Yuma's face was a feast Harua tried not to indulge in. He looked over to the board near the vending machine, where people put up posters of things. Festivals, conventions, and other events, Harua rarely visited if Taki didn't drag him.

"Senpai," he called, "about Asakura-senpai and Maki-kun—"

The words tripped into his throat when Harua saw Yuma flinch. He took his bottle from where it came out. "What about them?"

Dilemma settled between his teeth and made a barrier to stop Harua from saying anything. He stared blankly at Yuma. He couldn't say it. Not when Yuma flinched at a casual mention. Not when Harua still had a feeling that this could hurt him. Yuma stared back at him, a little smile dangling on his face. "You can say it, Shigeta-kun."

Harua closed his eyes and exhaled. "I was thinking that we could go on a double date with them."

"Oh." Harua heard before he looked at Yuma again. "Sure, if that could help."

"If you're not okay with it," Harua softly added, "you can just say no."

Yuma turned his face away when he said, "No, 's okay. I'm okay with it."

"You know that—"

"I know that I don't have to do this," Yuma cut him off. "I'm aight, you worry-wart. You're thinkin' too much."

How could he not when Yuma didn't even look at Harua while uttering any of the words he had said? He kept his head down, reading whatever was on the water bottle he held. Harua questioned what was on it that it hogged Yuma's attention. Did the water contain something very unusual? Was Yuma deliberately avoiding his eyes? Harua reached out to his chin. "Senpai."

Their eyes met, and under the dim light of the street, Harua tried his hardest not to touch Yuma's lips. It was glistening from the water he had just drunk. "S'rry," Yuma mumbled. He lowered Harua's hand. "Let's walk again."

Harua crammed his hands into his pockets as Yuma walked ahead. The water in the bottle swayed around, reflecting the lights they passed by. Silence embraced them like an uninvited guest, their usual chatter and bickering replaced by the low murmur of engines, competing with the conversations of the people scattered on the street. This felt weird. The stretching silence between them wasn't something Harua was used to. He could see the station from where they were standing—for a fleeting second, he wished they had taken another detour. But as the silence went longer, the station only seemed closer.

This wasn't the first time Harua saw Yuma's back, but this was the first time he could properly look at it in silence without any ruckus between them. There were a few keyrings dangling on his bag—Slowpoke, a character from Pokémon, which Harua had seen on the back of Yuma's phone before, a pair from a popular shoujo manga, and a realistically looking peach. Even his keychains were very Yuma. Harua let himself smile. He had been watching more anime for the last few weeks. It wasn't as if he hated them, anyway. He did watch them, just not as fervently as Yuma did.

"You love that song," said Harua, snapping out of his thoughts when he heard a familiar melody from Yuma's mouth. "Harunohi."

"You know it?"

"I think it'll be weirder if I don't," he replied. Harua took the chance to catch up to Yuma's side. "It's a really nice song."

"Yeah, it's nice. One of my favorites," Yuma said. "Though it's not a summer song."

Yuma didn't flinch when their hands brushed. Harua smiled. "It's probably spring somewhere in the world."

"Probably," Yuma muttered. He linked his pinky with one of Harua's fingers, a soft smile blooming on his face. "It's always spring somewhere."

Before Harua could ask about what he meant, Yuma said, "Let's go, it's going to rain!" and dragged him by the finger. Harua, confused as he was, ran along, matching Yuma's steps. The comfortable warmth he felt before came back once he realized the weight of Yuma's pinky around his. They ran even though it hadn't rained, and Harua became too busy with his breath to complain. Yuma looked back for a millisecond, a trail of laughter leaving his lips as he ran faster, earning a groan from Harua.

Rain fell only when they had arrived, the voice drowning the sound of everything else. Harua crouched in front of the ticketing machine. "We didn't need to run that fast!"

"We would've gotten wet," Yuma refuted. "We arrived at the right time."

Harua supposed Yuma was right, but he didn't want to admit it. He stuck a little bit of his tongue out. "You're just lucky."

"Whatever." Yuma rolled his eyes. "C'mon. You have class duty tomorrow, right?"

He remembered. Harua bit back his smile. "Aww," he cooed, "you care about me so much, don't you, Senpai?"

Yuma tapped his card to the gate with a practiced ease. He crossed his arms, looking amused and annoyed at the same time, if that was possible. "Your head is going to get so big with that confidence."

"Just admit that you care for me."

"Sure, sure," Yuma sighed. He pinched Harua's cheeks once he had crossed the gate. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Boy."

His train would come in 5 minutes, but Yuma's train was only a minute away. They waited on the platform, behind the line, together with a few people. The station wasn't as busy as Harua thought it would be—perhaps because it was past the rush hour. His shoulders tensed when he heard the announcement for Yuma's train. Yuma took a step forward, facing Harua with a grin on his face.

"Well, here comes my train," he announced. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Shigeta-kun."

The odd uneasiness came again with how his name slipped out of Yuma's mouth. It sat in his stomach, probing around his guts, making Harua a little nauseous. That didn't feel right. Yuma shouldn't be calling him with his surname when strangers call him Harua. The light of the train flickered in the darkness of the tunnel. The train was getting near. Its wail rang in his ears, echoing from wall to wall as if there wasn't anyone in the room. Harua pulled Yuma into his embrace without much thought—a hand gripping his wrist tight, the other on his waist. He would regret this. This unexpected bravery arrived from nowhere and would push him off a cliff soon.

"It's Harua-kun," he whispered, lips accidentally grazing Yuma's cheeks. The opening doors came into his peripheral vision, and Harua waited for a few seconds before he pushed now-frozen-Yuma gently into the train, face bewildered and red. "I'll see you tomorrow, Yuu-kun."

The doors closed as Yuma finally moved. Only when the train left with its loud cry did Harua realize his own rosy cheeks from the dark windows, his legs giving out under the weight of embarrassment, crouching with his head in his hands, muttering, "What is wrong with me …."

☆

Sure enough, Harua had to suffer the consequences of his actions for five days straight. Yuma didn't stop mocking him about the Yuu-kun part—Harua couldn't defend himself, although he knew that at that time, Yuma was as flustered as he was. His gesture made things worse. Every time they met, Yuma would grab Harua's wrist and pull him close, cackling like there was no tomorrow when Harua bashfully complained. Yuma only stopped when Harua begged him to, and even then, laughed while promising he would never mock him again. Both of them knew he would.

Here they were now, standing in front of a big, decorated gate, all blue and white. Harua grabbed the strap of his brown mailbag nervously. Somehow, his heart was beating at an abnormal speed. He felt as if a secret would be revealed soon—whatever it was, he didn't know. Harua had a hunch that he couldn't explain yet. Yuma looked at him, a white canvas bag hanging down from his shoulder. Harua remembered the conversation they had a few days ago.

( "A comiket?"

"Yeah," Harua answered. "You like anime, and so do Maki-kun and Asakura-senpai. Why not?"

"I dunno," muttered Yuma. He took a bite of the cake they decided to share. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You don't really watch them."

"I've been studying, thank you very much," said Harua, a little defensive of himself. "Besides, I can enjoy it just fine."

"Taki-kun said you don't like going out," Yuma argued. Harua ran his fingers through his hair. He forgot that the two had become close since they met three days ago. Somehow, they clicked. One of their bonds was probably made of their love for teasing him.

"I do, just not all the time." He flicked Yuma's nose gently. "Besides, it will be right after the last exam. That sounds like a fun time to me."

Yuma grimaced. "Fine. But don't force yourself, 'kay?"

"I'm not uncultured."

"'m not saying you are," Yuma said. He fed Harua a spoonful of cake, grinning widely at his compliance. "Just, y'know, making sure."

I should be the one who does a check-up, Harua swallowed along with the cake. "It's fine, Senpai. I've said it a million times." )

"You okay?"

Harua nodded. "Yeah. Just … I didn't know there'd be this many people."

"I've warned you," said Yuma, although Harua didn't feel as if he was warned at all. "Tell me if you feel overwhelmed, 'kay?"

He hummed weakly in response, still gripping his bag strap for dear life. Yuma mumbled something about Jo and Maki waiting for them inside, but Harua couldn't focus. There was a sea of people in front of him—everyone coming in from various gates, and the area was packed with what seemed like a million people. Harua gulped. He didn't expect this many people to be in one place. Thank God it was outdoors, or he would actually be suffocating.

Yuma reached his wrist gently. "Let's try to not get lost," he said, leading the way. Harua's feet stumbled behind him. "I think I know where Jojo is."

It took them 15 minutes to find where the two were, since Yuma kept making stops every time he found something he was interested in and Harua couldn't hold his tongue back, which resulted in them bickering every three minutes or so ("You need to budget yourself," Harua commented, in which Yuma refuted with "I don't wanna hear it from you, Brat!"). Out of the blue, Harua felt a strong grip on his wrist. Their steps stopped when they were only a few centimetres away.

"Oh," Yuma mumbled, "there they are."

Harua didn't need to ask because he quickly spotted where Jo and Maki were—reading a list together, heads almost pressed, shoulders so close there might as well be no gap between them. Yuma stiffened beside him. He repeated, "There they are."

"Should we go somewhere else first?" Harua offered. "You said you wanted to check a nearby booth, right?"

Yuma shook his head. "We can do it later," he replied. "Jojo and Maki-kun are waitin'. C'mon."

There would be no use in saying no once Yuma had set his head on something, so Harua opted for something else. His fingers gently crawled down Yuma's hand, invading the empty space between his fingers. He curled them together, giving him a slight tug before saying, "Okay."

Harua thought he saw a glimpse of a smile, but it had turned into a grin once he realized it. Yuma called out to Jo a few times, each sound louder than before, until their targets shifted their focus to them. Maki waved excitedly—Harua was immediately reminded of the golden retriever in his neighborhood—while Jo put his hand up on the same level as his ears, lips forming a small smile. "Hi, Yuma-kun, Shigeta-kun."

"Did you guys get lost?" Maki asked.

"Nope. Someone just couldn't stop looking at every booth we passed by," Harua answered, glancing at Yuma, who grimaced right away.

"I just have a lot on my wish list," Yuma said. He tried to yank his hand from Harua's grip, but Harua only held it tighter. Yuma clicked his tongue. "Annoying," he murmured, loud enough for Harua to hear, which he blissfully ignored.

He switched his focus to Jo and Maki. "Have you guys bought anything?"

"'m eyeing things," Maki answered, "Jojo-senpai too. We're still decidin' on where to go."

Sometimes, it surprised Harua that Maki could speak Japanese fluently. Then, he'd be surprised at his own mind because he knew Maki was Japanese and lived in Japan his whole life—although he wasn't sure about the last part. He realized he had never asked. "Don't you like the Jojo anime, Maki-kun?" Harua tilted his head a little. "I think I saw a booth selling their doujinshi around here."

"I saw that too!" Maki grinned. "I was thinkin' of going there later, after Jojo-senpai buys the manga he wanted."

"What d'ya wanna buy, Jojo?" Yuma hooked his arm around Harua's elbow, fingers still etched together. "For your inspiration?"

Jo nodded. "Yes," he replied, voice quiet among the hustle and bustle of the event, "I saw my favorite circle here."

"Jojo-senpai is crazy good at drawing," Maki chimed in. The blooming smile on his face might make one think he taught Jo to draw himself. "When I first saw his drawing, I thought, wow! He will be a famous mangaka one day!" His grin expanded as he wrapped an arm around Jo's shoulders. "And I'll be there to witness it, I hope."

Harua had never seen Jo blush, and he noticed his ears were often red, but the blush encasing his ears had started to spread to his cheeks, and he looked down with the most bashful smile Harua had ever seen. Jo mumbled something he couldn't hear, but apparently, Maki could, and he let out a low laugh. For a while, they looked like they were in their own world—speaking a certain language only they understood, every shared whisper and breath was never meant to be acknowledged by anyone else. Harua stole another glance at Yuma and saw something akin to a smile. He slightly squeezed Yuma's hand. Yuma looked, squeezed back, and drew a bigger smile on his face.

He freed his fingers from Harua, clapping his hands together. "Well, should we start walkin' 'round, then?"

☆

Yuma permitted himself from the group once they hit the two-hour mark. Jo and Maki said they were still going to visit more booths, so Harua took the chance to take a breather. He bought a cold water bottle from the vending machine, taking in the atmosphere of the event. All the booths were painted white and blue—even the umbrellas which decorated the place. The staff wore a specific kind of blue which Harua couldn't name, but he knew it wasn't common. The sun had begun to rise higher, clouds scattered around it, but the area was more packed than before. Under the smoldering sun, it seemed like everyone had forgotten about the heat and was too focused on the booths around them. This wasn't something Harua was familiar with, but he could get used to it.

Harua found Yuma under a tree. He was hugging his knees close to his chest, playing on his phone with his head down. The coldness of the water bottle probably startled him, because Yuma jumped a bit in his position, glaring at Harua as he laughed at him.

"For you," Harua said. He occupied the space beside him, nudging Yuma's shoulder with his own. "Are you okay?"

He heard a low hum as a response, then the sound of a water bottle being opened. Yuma said, "Why wouldn't I be?" before taking a gulp of his water. "'s just too hot."

"Well, it's summer," he murmured. Harua leaned behind on his elbows, straightening his legs as he watched the people around them passing by. There was still enough room for him to breathe despite the ocean of humans before him. "I wonder where Maki-kun and Asakura-senpai are now …."

"Maybe we should just let them be on their own," Yuma suggested.

"Are you okay with that?"

Yuma laughed. "Why not?" he asked. "'s fine. We can't keep fourth-wheelin' them."

"It's called a double date," Harua sighed. "There's no such thing as a fourth-wheeling."

"Aww, you want to go on a date wimme so bad, don't you, Harua-kun?"

Harua didn't answer. He kicked Yuma's right shin gently, shifting closer to him. Almost everyone was moving—eating, bringing around their shopping bags, sipping cold beverages to fend off the heat. A few people even had a fever patch on their forehead. Harua didn't realize that was an option. He should consider it for their next outing. Yuma looked like he would melt any time soon.

But would there be any next time? It had been days since Harua first pondered about what would happen once Jo and Maki date. What about him and Yuma? Would they go back to being acquaintances? It would be weird, Harua thought, to only acknowledge each other with a nod and a smile once this was over. They wouldn't have as many reasons to hang out anymore. Yuma would be preoccupied with senior year stuff since he would be going to college, and Harua was certain he wouldn't hear from him anymore after summer break. Those days that seemed far before now felt too near, Harua began to fear them. They were only consistently in each other's lives for a few weeks—why was he already afraid of going through days without Yuma?

"What are you thinkin' 'bout?"

Harua looked up. "Huh?"

"You were deep in thought, Harua-kun," Yuma said. "Thinkin' 'bout something?"

"I was just wondering about what Maki-kun and Asakura-senpai are doing now," he answered. "Shouldn't we check up on them?"

"Doesn't look like they need us anymore," Yuma muttered. Then, with a hint of mischief, he asked, "Should we just go home?"

"You're just going to leave them here?"

Yuma shrugged, slowly standing up. "They looked like they were on their own world anyway."

A question sat on the tip of Harua's tongue, but he ignored it. He held Yuma's hand as he stood up, brushing off the grass sticking to his pants. "Are we really going to leave?"

"Do you want us to?"

"I don't know," he said, followed by, "I'll follow you wherever you want to go, Senpai," which earned a nose scrunch. He pulled Yuma closer, hand moving to rest on his waist. Yuma turned to him with an arched eyebrow, face moving a little further from Harua's. "What?" Harua asked. "You look like you're going to say something annoying."

"Just surprised at how romantic you could be, Harua-kun." Yuma grinned. "Let's get some crepes before we look for Jojo. The one you said you've been eyeing for opened a booth today."

"Did it?" Harua frowned. "I didn't see them."

"I saw their name on the list, " Yuma said. He moved to lead Harua amongst the crowd, their hands now the only thing between them. "Since everyone's busy walkin' around, the queue shouldn't be long."

Going against the current might be one of the most difficult tasks when you are in the middle of a crowd. They were stuck for a few good seconds before being able to move, then again trapped between strangers Harua knew they would never learn the names of. Yuma was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, Jo's contact name the only thing Harua could catch from his screen. He couldn't make out what he typed, but he figured it was a question of Jo's whereabouts.

Harua stared at his hand, which was still wrapped around Yuma's wrist. Since when did it feel natural for them to hold each other's hands like this? He knew it was in the last-minute-whipped-up-contract they signed, but Harua thought it would've felt awkward at first. It was weird to think about how the weight and warmth of Yuma's hands felt like comfort now, and how the spaces between his fingers were meant to be occupied by Yuma. Heck, Yuma had laid his head on Harua's lap a couple of times and vice versa. Harua thought the idea would make him feel appalled, but he only found peace when he did it.

He locked their fingers together, observing the warmth flooding his body. Yuma didn't budge. Instead, he held Harua's hand tighter, slowly reduced his pace, and they walked side by side until the booth appeared in sight.

Sure enough, the line wasn't long. It only took them six minutes before it was their turn to order, and Harua ordered a strawberry with whipped cream, while Yuma ordered the kiwi one. They sat on a bench near the booth, right under a white and blue umbrella. Harua thought this was the first time he had ever seen so much white and blue stuff in one place. Yuma didn't seem to be bothered by it, but neither was Harua. He just couldn't help but notice the amount of white and blue he had seen today. He also couldn't stop himself from thinking about separating ways with Yuma.

"Jojo looked happy, didn't he?"

Harua stopped what he was doing to think. Harua wasn't on the same level of familiarity as Yuma was, but he could sense the happiness radiating through Jo. Harua didn't try to hold himself back from observing Jo today. He caught him brushing fingers with Maki a couple of times. Within the time they spent walking around, Jo smiled, laughed, giggled—and when he wasn't doing any of the three, he was looking at Maki with the softest gaze Harua had ever seen. It might be similar to how Euijoo looked at Nicholas, or how Liz looked at Rei. It was the kind of gaze that Harua often associated with love. Perhaps it was true that love and joy shared the same space.

"I guess so," Harua mumbled. "Both of them were smiling and giggling all the time."

Yuma curled his lips into a soft smile. "Yeah. Never seen him that happy."

"Does it make you sad?"

Yuma bit into Harua's crepes in place of an answer. He threw a displeased look, but Yuma ignored him. "Eatin' fresh fruits in summer is the best."

"Well, yes. Because you stole mine."

"Don't boyfriends share all the time?" Yuma teased. "Here, I'll feed you. Say aaah, Harua-kun."

Harua sneered, but he opened his mouth anyway. There wasn't much difference between their crepes, except that Yuma's had slices of kiwi in between the layers. "'s yummy."

"Right?" Yuma's smile stretched into a grin. "Wanna switch?"

Without waiting for his agreement, Yuma switched their crepes. Harua noticed he hadn't received an answer to his question. Yuma was back to enjoying his food, talking about a manga Harua had never heard of, like the manga connoisseur he was. Harua responded half-heartedly, guessing the meaning of Yuma's attempt to distract him. Was it a yes? A no? What did it mean?

"You're deep in thoughts again," Yuma pointed out.

"I just realized you're pretty consistent on feeding me sweets whenever we're together," Harua blurted out.

"What?" Albeit the bewildered look he had, Yuma laughed. "Suddenly?"

Harua could feel the heat of summer hitting him in the face. He stared down at his crepes. "It just dawned on me."

"I dunno. I mean, you're always buyin' sweets every day at school."

At his answer, Harua chuckled. "Have you been observing me?"

Yuma didn't immediately come up with an answer. When Harua lifted his head, Yuma was staring at him. He flashed Harua the kind of smile Harua could yet decipher, and said, "'m happy that Jojo's happy."

"Eh?"

"Remember the story I told you we'd use if anyone asks how we started dating?"

Hesitating, Harua nodded. Yuma focused his gaze on whatever was in front of him. Harua followed suit. "I lied, y'know," he continued. "I used to like you."

The world quickly fell quiet. Harua stiffened. The strength in his muscles had left his body, and he questioned if it was because he rarely worked out these days. He couldn't even turn to look at Yuma now. "What?"

Yuma's voice was infuriatingly composed. He straightened his feet. "Yeah," he said, "that's why I knew you loved sweets. You always have them with you." When he laughed, Harua wished for the first time that he didn't have to hear it. The lightheartedness made his stomach churn. He didn't like it. "I guess I did observe you, but isn't it normal?" Yuma's smile felt like a stab to an open wound. "I mean, I had a crush. 'Course you're always on my radar."

Harua wanted to ask: How? When? Where? Why? But each question was consumed by the earth, along with everybody else in the room—or park, or garden. There was no one else but him and Yuma, if Harua even existed in the first place. He wished the earth would swallow him whole, too. He didn't know what to say. Every word in his vocabulary had been chewed by the shock in his throat. Yuma seemed to think of his silence as a sign to go on.

"Funny to think 'bout it now," he joked, "'cause it's been three years, I think? I liked you in my third year of middle school. I saw you," Yuma paused to cackle, "while you were painting, and thought, wow, Shigeta-kun is handsome. 'n' I just ended up likin' you more after."

"Oh," Harua let out, watching Yuma crumple the paper of his crepes. "That's fun." It wasn't fun at all. Harua wanted to jump off a booth's roof after receiving the information.

"Yep. It was all in the past, though." Yuma jumped from his seat. He swiped his hands on his pants, then turned around to Harua. "Let's go look for Jojo and Maki-kun once you're done."

Shouldn't he stop him? He probably should, because Harua would love to hear that it was once again a joke Yuma was trying to pull on him, and then he could protest before they laugh it off together. It should be a joke, wasn't it? Yuma was in his third year of middle school, so Harua was in his second year. Coincidentally, he was in love with one of his seniors. The memories were quite vague because it was a crush that came out of nowhere, but Harua remembered who and why. How could he not, when he was always in his orbit?

"You're spacin' out again."

Harua blinked. "Hm?"

"You weren't listenin' to me, Harua-kun," Yuma complained, bottom lip jutted out in a tiny pout. "Again," he emphasized. He stared at Harua with big, sullen eyes. "Do you wanna go home instead?"

At once, Harua stood up. He shook his head. "No, sorry," he quietly said. He took Yuma's hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Let's find Maki-kun and Asakura-senpai. Do you know where they are?"

"Jojo just replied to me," Yuma answered. There was a little sulk in his voice, but Harua decided not to dwell on it. "He said they're in the area near the exit. Guess that makes it easier."

He followed as Yuma began to walk, their hands stretched between them. Yuma had put what he bought inside his bag; now his left hand was free. Harua longed to reach the other one. He could do it. He just had to extend his hand a little and touch it. Easy. But he couldn't. He only stared at it—the hand Yuma was swinging around casually. There was a red string wrapped around the wrist, sitting perfectly on top of his skin. Harua recognized the bracelet like he acknowledged an old friend.

Three years ago—and now, too—it adorned the hand of someone he adored.