Chapter Text
"you made this, toge?" maki asked in awe the next day, as she eyed the moon and flowers he made on your arm, running a finger across the design. it somehow warmed his heart that you chose to show it off despite it being temporary. it was fading slightly now; it was made of a mere black calligraphy pen, after all. on top of that, he thought that your friends would think it was rather silly that you wanted a temporary tattoo with just a pen. surprisingly, they focused more on the thought that the design suited you that they probably forgot that it was just literally drawn by a pen and not actual ink, and the fact that he drew it. "it looks great."
it also made him curious that you didn't scrub it all off. the traitor that his mind was, it gave him a thought that you actually did like his art on your skin.
huh.
"salmon," came the late reply, as he realized that he was lost in thought again and everyone was waiting for his response. even fushiguro's eyes flickered in surprise before he controlled his usual stoic expression.
"it was my idea!" you laughed, looking at him with a teasing lilt, "but yeah, toge did well. i just asked him so i could try it out. i happen to really like it." he admonished his stupid heart for stopping and starting again.
"whoa, inumaki-senpai! it looks cool!" yuuji exclaimed, his eyes examining the flowers near the moon closely. you chuckled, patting his head as if he was a soft animal, and yuuji grinned. love flowed naturally from you. love and kindness. no wonder --
"did you just pet him like a dog?" nobara asked you incredulously, and you gave her a guilty smile.
"hey!" yuuji protested.
even toge couldn't resist laughing.
evening fell and he decided to stay back after training to watch the moon grace him with its presence. it was a crescent, much like what he drew for you. toge lied back against the grass, ignoring the scratch it had against the back of his navy-blue tracksuit, and his thoughts began to wander in his solitude.
he had come up with three realizations in the last few days.
one, you were his muse. his creative influence. the source of his inspiration. whenever he was with you, happiness and light filled him, and he often channeled it onto his blank slate where colors bloomed, and lines curled together in harmony. you gave him the peace that he never knew he needed or wanted. these thoughts flowed naturally because of you.
toge sighed softly, his eyes scanning the wide expanse of the sky, his mind elsewhere.
two, he really likes you. or actually, scratch that; toge was most likely in love with you. this was a bit harder than it sounded. he didn't know what love was like, and this wasn't like the movies. if it were, it wouldn't be so painfully good to see you smile without knowing about how he felt for you every single day. maybe it was just his mind, playing cruel tricks at him, making him actually believe that he was capable of it. love. maybe it was too early.
maybe he just needed a glass of cold water.
three, he should probably say something before he imploded, and his insides spilled out for everyone to see. the thing is, he didn't know how. he didn't even talk. how would even let you know? would words suffice? would texting you be so anti-climactic? can he just make rice ball ingredients for the words "i really like you"?
would you even care?
he groaned quietly, slapping his palm against his forehead with more force than he intended to. after his small retribution, he rested the back of his arm over his eyes, as if it would help him hide from the world.
"hey, you," a voice came from nearby, and toge's eyes flew open from under his arm, tensing when he heard a tell-tale flash - his photo was taken on the grass, while he was internally punishing himself.
moving your face away from your polaroid camera, you greeted him with a warm smile, the only noise being the photo sliding out of the camera slowly. "i got one just like yours," you told him proudly, showing him your new camera, sitting beside him in the grass. he realized that his upper arm was still on his forehead, and he put it down slowly on his side, willing the ground to swallow him up whole. "i liked your photos on your wall, so i wanted to put some of mine, too," you continued, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. "toge?" your voice turned worried, "are you okay?" he felt your hand on his shoulder.
wait, you wanted to put him on your wall? "salmon," he answered softly, hiding his chagrin behind his turtleneck. he let out a breath, closing his eyes again to regain some composure. "salmon," he repeated to assure you, cursing his luck once more at your impeccable timing to find him in his moment of weakness. he slowly sat up, feeling your hand move from his shoulder to his back. your hand was warm. you were warm.
momentarily distracted, he watched you drop your hand to carefully take out the photo from your camera, and it showed him looking like he had a headache, sleeping on the grass. toge took a peek from over your shoulder and grimaced when he saw that he looked utterly ridiculous. you, instead, chuckled warmly, showing him the photo fully, and he wrinkled his nose from under the collar. "bonito flakes," he muttered dejectedly, hugging his knees. no, it was a bad photo.
"it's not that bad," you assured him. "you look like you have a migraine, but maybe you just have something on your mind," you said thoughtfully, still looking at his photo, your eyes soft. it astounded him how you figured that out. maybe he let you in more than he should have the last few weeks. "what's wrong, toge?"
he waited for the ground to respond to his call for help. he needed to be buried. “mustard leaf,” he mumbled. i’m okay.
your hand returned to his back, and he allowed himself to lean against your touch. toge thought that you must have noticed this shift, as your hand began to rub his shoulder blade gently, your eyes genuinely concerned. his heart was beating a song against his chest, and his blood was rushing. somehow, you were attuned to how he was feeling. but then again, this was you. you were quite the empath, and it was one of the many things he liked about you. "you know you can talk to me, right?" you offered kindly.
yes. he knew. he wished that he was able to. there were so many things that he wanted to tell you. from the beginning, when you first met. in the middle, when he was getting closer to you. up until now, at this moment, when he wanted to tell you how he felt.
so many words unspoken. not for the first time, he cursed his abilities and how difficult it was to get through to people. knowing that speaking was not an option, toge merely nodded, swallowing thickly. he was used to it. this loneliness of being confined to his thoughts.
perhaps it was why he turned to art in the first place.
"let's go back. it's getting cold," you began standing, and you gave out your hand to him. he took it gratefully, feeling slight comfort from you as he pulled himself up. he ignored that his stomach flipped over when he felt your skin on his, and toge scolded himself when he wanted more of your touch as you let go. he placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket to prevent himself from intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walked back to your dorms.
in the solace of his room, toge had applied the last of the shadows and highlights that his latest work needed. he let out a soft sigh of relief as he looked up at the moon high up at the sky, feeling a small crick in his neck. he hadn't noticed that it was late, too engrossed in his work. he raised a paint-stained hand to massage the back of his head. he needed it to be perfect.
it took a few days, but he was finally finished with his small birthday gift to you. scrutinizing his work, he thought that no matter how he tried to capture you, his work didn't hold a candle to the real thing. with a tired smile, he began tidying up his opened tubes of paint and started to clean his brushes.
placed on his easel, there you were. you were lying on the grass, on that one day, your hair spread amongst the greenery. the only difference was that your hair was adorned with an explosion of butterflies, big and small, pastel-colored to avoid overpowering your hair's natural color. your arms, which were raised above your head in a relaxed stance, were bare save for the small tattoo you had on your forearm - the same one. you were smiling up at the sky as if you saw a huge plane passing by as a child, looking at it with wonder.
you were beautiful.
for your special day, he didn't get you a dress, or chocolates, or flowers. he was also quite terrible at expressing himself in writing. he wished he could make you a poem, or a story. but there it was - a painting - all he had decided to say all that he needed to say there, in one canvas, with his brushes and paint. the care he put in to make the colors blend smoothly amongst the shapes that he had made of you, and the love and effort he had put in to put it all together.
it was all he could do to tell you how he felt.
he sincerely hoped that all the stars would forgive him for everything he's ever done, just so you would like what he made for you, that it would put a smile on your face. his heart sunk at the thought of you dismissing or hating it. but then, in his heart of hearts, he knew that you weren't like that. if you didn't like it, you probably won't tell him - but wasn't that even worse?
he willed his brain to quiet down so he could get some sleep. he finished his artwork late and had class tomorrow morning, but it seemed like toge only tossed and turned in his bed in the wee hours of the morning.
the painting had dried when the sun began to peek through his blinds, and toge carefully wrapped it in light wrapping paper to conceal it. now or never. his heart in his hands, he made sure that you had already left your room before putting the covered portrait of you on your doorstep. toge once again looked around, finding the hallway empty to make sure he wasn't seen, his hands feeling like they were holding icicles before running back to his dorm to get ready for class.
"toge!"
he froze in his steps right outside the dorm building, his whole body tensing. it was unmistakably your voice bouncing from inside the hallways. he thought you'd left for the class already? he swore he didn't feel your energy coming from your room. swallowing the lump in his throat, blood pounding in his ears, toge turned to look at you, already knowing that you found his simple gift. there you were, running toward him, beautiful and breathless as you held the opened painting in your right hand. your face was flushed, and you were looking at with glassy eyes as if you were nearing tears.
his stomach fell. you didn't hate it, did you?
you crossed the remaining space in between your bodies, engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug, throwing your arms around his neck.
the world seemed to stop. your body was pressed against him so tightly that he felt your quickly beating heart against his chest, but he never would have complained even if you're holding him closer than you have ever had before. he never thought that he would be able to feel this, to be here in your arms. he dreamed of it, but he never imagined that he would live it.
it felt so good.
a few more heartbeats and toge's lungs screamed out for him to breathe. he did. he relaxed against your warmth, burying his face in your neck, your cherry-scented shampoo greeting him once more. sliding his eyes closed, his worries about you not being pleased with his gift flew off as he inhaled your scent, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist.
"thank you, toge," you told him. he could hear your smile, but your voice wavered. were you crying?
are you okay? "mustard leaf?" he held you tighter as if you were a butterfly that he'd like to keep close to his heart but would eventually need to fly away.
"y-yes, i'm fine, i'm fine," you sniffled, "it's just... it's beautiful, toge. thank you. i love it. you're an amazing artist."
relief flooded through his veins. toge took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut, still not letting go of you. and then, bravely, or, as courageous as he could ever be, in the softest of whispers, you heard your name from his lips.
he felt you tense in his arms, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. you have never heard him say your name, nor anyone else's. it sounded foreign from his tongue, to say something with such adoration.
toge's heart was racing so fast, and he wouldn't be surprised that it already formed a bruise on his chest. he needed to look at your face before he told you; he may never get a chance like this again. he pulled back slightly, his arm still around your waist as he gazed into your eyes, trying to read your expression. your lips were slightly parted, cheeks deep red, and a single tear track was visible against your face.
with one hand, toge slowly lowered his turtleneck to reveal the lower half of his face for you to see his flushed cheeks and sealed lips. your eyes were wide, surprised that he had openly shown you the same marks on his face that you'd been eyeing. and then, being very careful not to say anything else, "i like you."
"oh." the arms around his neck slackened and slid down his shoulders, and the blush spread to the tips of your ears and down your neck as you looked away from him. you were still holding the painting, and it was digging against his upper back. this was real. he actually said it. toge swallowed thickly, the seconds feeling like hours ticking by - did he even expect you to reply? it's okay if you don't like me back, he wanted to say. i just wanted you to know. i just wanted to be honest. i just needed to get it out of my chest.
he began pulling away, faltering, "m-mustard l-"
his words of assurance were cut off by your lips on his. frayed nerves, heart pounding in his ears, he drowned in the feel of your kiss, letting his eyes close. there was that feeling again that the world seemed to fade away, and what only remained was your arms around him, holding him impossibly closer. he wanted to stay in this moment, where he could only taste your lips and nothing else mattered.
you pulled away slightly, chuckling shyly and giving him a soft smile. "i never thought i'd hear you say that," you murmured. "you also said my name."
toge blushed deeply. he had also decided that looking for his brain at this moment was futile. he nodded. yes. with all of my heart.
"i like you too, toge," your smile brightened, dropping your arms from his neck. "i like you a lot."
it took him a few moments to regain whatever sanity he had left. there was it again; the butterflies exploding, but maybe they were near his head this time. he thought the same: he never thought he'd hear you say that. the deities must have forgiven him already for them to give him you.
in the present, you began laughing softly at his blank expression. "earth to toge," you grinned, waving your hand in front of his face and he looked at you sheepishly, seemingly coming back to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "i mean it," you assured him once more, and warmth spread through his whole body at your sincerity.
his hand reached for your own, squeezing your palm gently and intertwining your fingers before he started leading the two of you to class. "mustard leaf?" is this okay? he asked before hiding his face behind his turtleneck again. he was unbearably shy about it, but he didn't want to let go of your hand anymore.
"yeah," you replied, squeezing his hand back before looking away to admire the painting he made as you followed his lead. the wind rustled your hair, and there was a smile on your face as you studied the portrait. to toge, you have never looked more loveable.
there were so many words he wanted to say, but he guessed it'll have to wait. you have a long road ahead of you, but the best part was that you'll travel it with him.