Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“It’s simple, really,” Yashiro Nene, the boy-crazy cheerleader who dethroned Akane in Aoi’s personal best friend ranking since middle school, began as she clasped her hands together in a serious stance.

Yashiro stared intensely at Akane as she sat across him in the confines of their classroom. The three of them, Akane, Aoi, and the person starting a seemingly insightful monologue, decided to spend their lunchtime conducting an emergency meeting. The agenda? “How to get Golden Boy Teru Minamoto off Aoi’s Back.”

Yashiro made a show of rubbing her hands together, as if to build suspense, before slamming her fists down her desk. “You take down the Minamoto political dynasty!”

Almost instantaneously, Akane clapped his hands decisively. “Alright, stupid idea. Any other suggestions?”

Yashiro shrieked in a mix of horror and offense. She waved her hands around animatedly as she yelled, “H-Hold on a second! You have got to hear me out!”

Akane leaned back onto his chair with his arms crossed, brows furrowed in evident disapproval. He narrowed his eyes at Yashiro as he responded, “I’m not interested in listening to the full extent of your attempt at getting me to act out another one of your fantasies. Immediate rejection.”

Aoi, always the fool who dotes too much on Yashiro and her wild imagination (no wonder the girl’s head is on the clouds 24/7, she’s spoiled rotten by her best friend), nudged Akane with her elbow to gently reprimand him. “Ah, c’mon Akane, quit it! Nene-chan’s already doing us a huge favor by helping us out, even though this has nothing to do with her.”

Yashiro grinned wide at Aoi’s statement, and wistfully sighed as she waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Ao-chan, don’t be so modest! Of course this concerns me, you two are my OTP after all!”

Yashiro squealed in a shrill voice that was adorable to Aoi and annoying to Akane, as she recalled their middle school memories. “I built this ship with my own two hands, and now that my matchmaking skills have rendered me capable of nurturing romance, it is only right that I do everything in my power to protect it!”

Akane grimaced as Yashiro leaned in to capture both of Aoi’s hands into hers. She breathed in and out so excitedly that Akane swore smoke was coming out of the hopeless romantic’s nostrils. Akane deduced that her misplaced excitement is rooted in her need for a sense of purpose in her uneventful life. “That’s why… I promise to be of great help to Ao-chan!”

Aoi returned Yashiro’s passionate smile with one of her own graceful ones, looking quite touched despite the nonsensical statements the borderline lunatic just mentioned. Her eyes sparkled brightly as she intertwined her fingers with Yashiro. She breathed out in awe, “Nene-chan…”

Akane looked on at the two idiots with pure disbelief, face devoid of any hope nor joy. “Hey, are you two hearing yourselves right now? Like, actually?”

The fools continued to stare at each other, ignoring Akane’s pointed questions. Akane groaned in defeat, burying his head in his hands. It seemed like he had to figure out this conflict by himself.

From the corner of his eye, Akane noticed one of Yashiro’s shoujo love triangle mangas placed invasively on his desk. He pursed his lips into a thin line as he reflected on his options. As much as Akane hated having to resort to a comic book with a cheesy and overdone storyline to be his source of guidance, he admittedly doesn’t have much to turn to. His lack of experience in love, brought about by his general lack of interest in girls and romance, didn’t really help his case. Begrudgingly, he picked up the manga and skimmed through the pages, willing some sort of sign or answer to come into fruition.

Yashiro noticed Akane’s actions and lit up at the sight. She parted from Aoi, much to the latter’s dismay, and excitedly pointed at the panels of the manga. “Ah, this one is really good, Akane! The male lead is extremely cool. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from him!”

Akane tried not to show much interest, but he did find the male lead quite compelling. He was a school delinquent, someone extremely far off from Akane’s character, but his rugged handsomeness and brooding personality did somewhat intrigue him. As he flipped the pages, he noticed that there were a lot of action scenes for a romance manga. Akane raised a brow. “Why the hell is he always fighting someone? Is this a gangster comic guised as a love story?”

Yashiro looked genuinely insulted. “It is not!”

The shoujo fanatic flipped her pigtails as she proudly continued, “It is a wonderful display of devoted love! The male lead always protects the female lead from rivals, and puts himself into dangerous situations to earn her affections!”

Aoi hummed in thought, feigning curiosity. She commented in a rehearsed tone, “My, how romantic.”

Akane sighed, exasperated. “How unrealistic, you mean.”

Yashiro frowned. “I disagree! After all…”

Yashiro pointed her dominant hand at Akane while the other rested firmly on her hip, mimicking the heroic poses of those magical girls that Aoi used to watch when she was younger. To state the obvious, Akane harbored genuine distaste for those shows. Anyone would, really, if they too were forced to sit through hour-long marathons of said media, just to appease the raging demon that is Akane’s childhood friend.

Yashiro winked as she dramatically proclaimed, “If you truly love someone, you’re willing to fight for them, aren’t you?”

Akane, to his credit, gives it a second thought.

“Metaphorically, sure.” Akane shrugged. “Physically? Debatable.”

“Unbelievable!” Before Yashiro could run on a tangent to defend her stance, the bell rang, signalling that lunchtime was over. Yashiro stood up, panicked. “Ack, I’ve got cheer practice! I’ll see you guys around, alright? Make sure to update me!”

“Hey, hold on a second, your manga–” Yashiro wasted no time as she scurried outside the classroom at a speed that could intimidate even an athlete, leaving the manga at Akane’s desk.

Aoi stood up as well, grabbing a bag containing her painting supplies. Her smile morphed into the deadpan expression that Akane’s grown accustomed to, as she turned to Akane and spoke sternly. “I’ve gotta head to the Art Room. Hold on to Nene-chan’s manga for the time being so it doesn’t get lost or stolen. That’s a favorite of hers, so you better take care of it.”

“Hah?” Akane stared at Aoi with a bewildered expression.

Akane didn’t like that. Not one bit. In no way was he going to be seen carrying around a stupid comic with a blinding sparkly cover.

“You’re acting like I don’t have club duties too,” Akane grumbled. He scratched the back of his head as he frowned up at Aoi.

Aoi raised a brow. She crossed her arms and spoke in a tone that left no room for arguments. “Your ‘club’ is the Student Council. All you do is monitor the hallways to ensure everyone’s in their respective clubrooms. Watching over Nene-chan’s manga won’t burden you in the least.”

Akane internally cussed Aoi out as she made her way to the exit. With a resigned sigh, he picked up the manga and placed it into his slingbag. ‘Perhaps a little entertainment while on duty won’t hurt.’

Akane didn’t consider himself to be someone easily influenced. He’d often be described as “smart”, “logical”, and “capable”, so he couldn’t fathom the idea of him being swayed by common temptations. In Akane’s defense, he has had experiences that supported this theory of his, so it's inevitable that he thinks the way he thinks.

For example, back in middle school, when he got invited to one of the older kids’ parties because of his association to Aoi, he was offered liquor. Akane didn’t really see the appeal in chugging down alcohol. In fact, he perceived it to be a lame beverage. It was bitter and it burned his throat, so he couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly consume it. He then concluded that the kids at the party were equally lame, and so their feeble attempts at getting him drunk were unsuccessful.

Another instance was when Aoi and Yashiro had the impulsive idea of running a marathon. Their reasoning? The head of the running organization that invited them was hot (looking back, it was most definitely just Yashiro who thought this, and Aoi simply chose to tag along). Yashiro had spent an entire afternoon convincing Akane to join them because she wanted to make a good impression on her new boy target–even going as far as using Aoi as leverage, though that didn’t really work out for reasons that are obvious to anyone but Yashiro herself. In the end, the two quit the team because the boy commented on Yashiro’s legs, and they were simply not having it.

So, all in all, it’s fair to assume that Akane has a solid grasp on his ideals and great control on his decision-making skills. That statement cannot be debunked by the odd fact that he is currently practicing boxing moves in the empty school hallway. Yup. No correlation at all.

“Ka-pow!” Akane raised a clenched fist in an action that somewhat resembled an uppercut. He’s currently in a one-sided battle with the school air, and with his form, one can assume the latter is winning. He took deep heavy breaths, as though he had just finished an entire workout routine-–when really, he had only thrown a couple “punches” on… nothingness. He wiped a bead of sweat on his forehead with his right hand and adjusted his tie with the other. He heaved in between his mumbling, “I… hah, think that’s how he… did it.”

Yes, Akane Aoi, Student Council Member and Academic Achiever, is mimicking the moves of a teenage delinquent belonging to a romance shoujo manga. His reasoning? The male lead was cool.

The boy in question bent forward as he rested his hands on his knees, catching his breath. His eyes fall on the opened manga that he placed on the ground a while ago to better see the moves he was copying. The panels showcased a boy with dark and messy long hair, face and ears adorned with multiple piercings and scars. He was positioned in a fighting stance, fists buried on the face of an ugly side character that was supposed to be his rival. Akane frowned in thought. ‘Maybe I should put more power into it..?’

“I didn’t know the Student Council required its members to train so vigorously.” A gentle voice made Akane’s ears perk up. He fixed his posture and turned around to face the source (of all his problems) and faced Teru Minamoto with a scowl. The man before him didn’t flinch at the unwelcome greeting, choosing instead to taunt Akane further. He stepped forward and crossed his arms, appearing to be amused by Akane’s earlier activities. He tilted his head in curiosity. “Are you hoping to run as a candidate for our school’s security team next year?”

Akane huffed, channeling the aura of the cool boy from the shoujo manga. “Get lost, Minamoto-senpai. Aren’t you supposed to be in your clubroom?”

The blonde boy hummed in delight, happy to ruin someone’s day it seemed. “Ah, yes. Art Club ended early. Such a shame, I was looking forward to spending more time with your girlfriend.”

Had his relationship with Aoi been of normal circumstances, the appropriate reaction would be to act all possessive at the reminder that his rival was in the same vicinity as his lover. Now, their dynamic is usually anything but that, however, the boy before Akane is naturally so irritating that Akane’s face actually scrunched up into something that heteronormative onlookers could conveniently dismiss as jealousy.

“Shut up,” Akane shot back almost immediately, partly because he thought it sounded intimidating, and mostly because Teru’s voice was painfully annoying to listen to. The contrast with his passive aggressive insults and the angelic tone in which he states them is too jarring for Akane. He fixed his stance, taking up the posture of that of a boxer–-if said boxer was an elderly man residing in a retirement home–and yelled at Teru with fervor so great it’s almost inspiring. Almost. “Listen, this is your final warning. If you flirt with Aoi again, I won’t let it stand. Leave. Her. Alone.”

Teru laughed. A genuine, boisterous laugh.

Akane felt an immense amount of shame flood his body at the sight of tears of joy forming on the corners of Teru’s eyes. The redhead’s legs began to feel weak, and his elderly-like form started to deflate into something akin to the shape of a raisin. It’s as though a bucket of cold water was harshly poured onto his head, as he came to the realization that he didn't really know what he was doing, and that he was unfortunately too caught up by the heroic atmosphere of the manga boy he idolized so much in a span of a few pages.

Teru stepped forward, and Akane willed himself not to step back. He leaned in and grabbed the wrist of Akane’s raised arm, though it didn’t cause him any pain. Akane’s pulse raced so fast he wondered if Teru could feel it. Teru looked down at Akane with an amused face as he whispered, “Go on, then. Hit me.”

Much like any person who is graced face-to-face with the killer looks of a guy like Teru Minamoto and the unignorable warmth of his fingers, Akane, understandably so, internally short-circuited at the interaction.

Again, Akane Aoi is the type of person to have a solid grasp on his ideals and great control on his decision-making skills. That is a fact.

However, Akane Aoi is also incredibly and extremely vulnerable to pretty faces.

Exhibit A: the shoujo boy who had Akane performing action fantasies in his head on the public domain that is his school’s first floor hallway; and

Exhibit B: Teru Minamoto.

Without thinking, Akane landed a panicked punch right on Exhibit B's face.

The thinking came after. ‘Hooolyyy shiit.’

Holy shit, indeed.