Chapter Text
By the time Barou reached home, the moon hung high above the rooftops, its glow pale against the dim streets. The quietness of the neighborhood felt strangely sharp after the noise and color of the festival. His steps were heavy, but not from exhaustion.
When he opened the front door, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread and lingering spices drifted from the kitchen. His mother, still tying her apron after cleaning up, glanced at him with a gentle smile.
“You’re back late,” she said. “How was the festival?”
Barou kicked his shoes off with a low grunt, hanging his blazer over the doorway hook. “It was fine.”
His mother raised an eyebrow. “Fine? That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
She hummed, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to pry further. “You kids work really hard on those festivals. I’m sure it was fun.”
Barou didn’t answer. She let it go.
“Your sisters are already asleep,” she added warmly. “Don’t wake them when you go upstairs.”
Barou nodded and trudged toward his room, shoulders tense.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling sharply as though he’d been holding his breath all night.
The silence of his room was suffocating. Too still. Too calm. It left space for thoughts he had shoved down the entire walk home.
His room was dark except for the faint streetlight filtering through the curtains. Barou switched on his desk lamp, the warm light spilling over textbooks, dumbbells, and football gear arranged neatly around his room.
He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his hands.
And finally– the thoughts he’d been refusing to face crashed into him all at once.
What the hell was that today?
He scrubbed both hands over his face, groaning softly.
Was I too obvious? Too forward? Did he notice? Did he think I was weird?
He flopped back onto the mattress and replayed everything– every glance, every breath, every moment Aryu’s hand brushed his.
Friends don’t look at each other like that, right? Or do they…? No. That wasn’t normal.
His heart gave an uncomfortable thump.
Him. Aryu. The fireworks. The light that reflected in Aryu’s eyes. The way they leaned in toward each other without even noticing.
Barou pressed an arm over his eyes.
“Shit.”
They were close. So close he could feel Aryu’s breath on his cheek, could see the faint dusting of pink on his nose from the chilly air. Aryu had looked at him– not like a friend, something more.
Something that made Barou’s heartbeat pound so hard he thought it was audible.
And he… froze. At the last second. Like an idiot.
He clenched his jaw.
Why didn’t I just kiss him? Why did I stop?
He knew why.
Because he panicked.
Because Aryu was too beautiful and too unreal and too perfect, and Barou– who prided himself on discipline and control– lost all of it the moment Aryu leaned toward him.
He groaned again and covered his face with both hands.
I should have kissed him.
But that kind of thought scared him as much as it thrilled him.
He sat back up abruptly, his chest felt tight.
Does Aryu even like me like that?
Aryu had smiled at him, walked with him, laughed softly at his remarks– but Aryu was kind to everyone. Charming to everyone. Polite to everyone.
Barou wasn’t special. He couldn’t be.That thought stung.
But then– sometimes, Aryu looked at him differently. With softness. With interest. With something Barou couldn’t decipher but desperately wanted to.
The charm on Barou’s own bag flashed in his mind– the matching one he bought for them.
Does him keeping it mean something? Or am I just reading too much into everything…?
He groaned into his hands again.
“This is stupid,” he muttered, though the heat in his ears contradicted his words. “I’m being stupid.”
He couldn’t pinpoint when it started — maybe the bakery, maybe the street, maybe the moment Aryu smiled at him like he meant it.
“Does… he see me as just a friend?”
The question tasted bitter.
He was screwed. Completely, utterly, screwed.
Because he liked Aryu.
He liked him so much it made his stomach twist and his chest ache and his brain stop working every time Aryu looked at him too long.
He likes him so much he found himself wanting more everyday. He liked him so much he almost kissed him under fireworks. He liked him so much he couldn’t think straight anymore.
“Yeah,” he whispered into the quiet room. “I’m far gone.”
Despite the turmoil, despite the uncertainty, despite the fear of wanting someone so badly–
Barou smiled.
Just a tiny one.
Barely there.
Because even though everything felt overwhelming, confusing, and terrifying…
He remembered the way Aryu looked at him during the fireworks.
Close. Soft. Expectant.
Like maybe– just maybe– the feeling wasn’t one-sided.
And that single memory burned bright enough to keep him awake long after midnight, staring at the charm beside his pillow and wondering what would happen the next time they stood too close… under lights or stars or nothing at all.