Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

By eight-seventeen in the morning, Fuyuhiko has already stubbed his toe on his bedroom desk, failed to find his favorite tie, burnt his toast while making breakfast, and accidentally sent a door flying straight into the face of an unsuspecting Peko Pekoyama (and for the record, he does feel a little bad about that, because even though he only messed up her hair a little and made her glasses just the slightest bit crooked, she’s still his best friend, and he figures he’s supposed to feel at least a little bad). He’s only been awake for an hour-and-a-half and this day is already total shit. He almost considers turning around and heading back home—just saying, “Fuck school, I’m going back to bed,” and leaving—but he knows Peko will turn around and drag him by the collar, so there’s really not any point in trying.

“Fuyuhiko,” she starts, and the moment she says it Fuyuhiko knows she’s trying to force a conversation out of him, “did you finish the biology homework?”

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s only sort of a lie, because he tried to do it, but gave up about halfway through. He really doesn’t understand this genetics stuff. All of the letters and matching proteins just make him feel violent, so he decided to stop before he decided to throw his bookbag out the window. (And yeah, he could have gone to Peko for help, but she’s just so mind-numbingly calm and smart that it probably would have just made him feel worse.)

Something in Peko’s expression changes, but she stays quiet for the rest of the walk. Fuyuhiko suspects she can tell he’s lying, but he doesn’t find that piece of information particularly important (not when his toe still hurts and the flavor of burnt toast still resides in his mouth). He doesn’t mind the silence, in fact he mourns the loss of it as soon as they enter their classroom filled with their chattering, babbling classmates.

The first thing that jumps out at him is Tsumiki, who lands on the floor only a foot away from the tips of his toes. She wails before shakily bringing herself back to her feet, and Fuyuhiko can’t help but roll his eyes as Saionji howls with laughter. “Wow! I would say you’re a walking disaster, but that would imply that you can take three steps without tripping over your own two feet!” Koizumi isn’t nearly as amused, giving Saionji a good scolding before checking to make sure Tsumiki is alright.

Fuyuhiko pushes past them, making his way towards a desk near the back of the room. Oh his way he passes Owari, who’s busy stuffing her face with a box of chocolate chip cookies, and Nidai, who’s reprimanding her for her unhealthy eating habits (in what Fuyuhiko does not and will not ever consider to be an inside voice). He nearly runs into Nanami's desk on the way, but she’s much too immersed in whatever game she’s playing to notice. He sits down in the nearby desk, shoving his bookbag under it as Peko takes the desk next to him.

A few desks away, he can see Souda pestering Hinata, who seems much more interested in whatever he’s writing in his notebook. Komaeda leans over his shoulder, smiling at what Hinata’s wrote before giving his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. Fuyuhiko wants to gag, so when he hears the names “Tanaka and Sonia,” strung along in Souda’s train wreck of words, he scans the room for them. He finds them near the front of the classroom, Sonia cooing over Tanaka’s hamsters while the latter turns bright red. Disgusting, Fuyuhiko thinks, and he tries to distract himself, but it’s not easy when Mioda marches into the room, practically putting on a musical number about why she loves Togami. Togami is clearly flustered, but makes no attempt to stop her, occasionally smirking at her detailed compliments. Fuyuhiko feels violently ill; emphasis on the “violent.”

“Kuzuryuu-kun! Good morning!”

Fuyuhiko doesn’t even acknowledge the voice, not until it slips into the seat next to him, grinning and wiggling its eyebrows at him. “Don’t fucking touch me,” is the first thing Fuyuhiko says, because who knows what Hanamura will do if he doesn’t discourage him.

“Who said I was planning to?” Hanamura replies, but it doesn’t sound  nearly as innocent as it should and the little bastard is still smirking at him. “Anyways, I heard a rumor,” Fuyuhiko doubts he heard the rumor as much as he made it up himself, “that you and Pekoyama-san are… well, you know…,” no, Fuyuhiko does not know, and he doesn’t want to find out, but Hanamura continues anyway, “a pair? A perfect match? A couple of love birds? A matching hot dog and bun, if you catch my—“

Fuyuhiko can feel his blood boiling. As if he doesn’t get this sort of question enough already. “I swear to fucking God, if you don’t shut your mouth I’m gonna shut it for you!”

“Hmm… with a kiss, perhaps? I wouldn’t mind that.”

Finally on his last nerve, Fuyuhiko rises from his seat, yanking Hanamura up by the collar of his white-button up. “We’re just. Friends. And if you value your life, I’d suggest you never speak to me again, asshole.” At first Hanamura seems intimidated, but then he just grins and leans a little closer and oh fuck Fuyuhiko can feel Hanamura’s breath on his lips and it’s all kinds of horrible and gross and awful—

He shoves the other boy back into his seat without further thought, giving a few exaggerated gags in order to make his feelings perfectly clear. Hanamura just pouts and shrugs, rising from the desk beside Fuyuhiko and moving to a new one a few rows over (Fuyuhiko makes a mental note to thank God, or fate, or whatever for this small blessing).

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of class, and Fuyuhiko watches as Miss Usami tries and fails to get the class to calm down (“Owari-san, you are not allowed to eat those cookies in class! You’re getting cwumbs evewywhere! Nanami-san, put your gaming device down, and Tanaka-kun, pwease put those hamsters away! They do not bewong in the classwoom!”). She might just be the worst teacher ever, Fuyuhiko thinks, resting his cheek on his arms, which are folded neatly on top of his desk.  He scans the room—no one seems to be doing what they’re supposed to, and Miss Usami looks like she’s close to having an aneurysm. What a bunch of idiots (sans Peko, who doesn’t seem to mind the early-morning antics, but isn’t participating in them, either).

A folded slip of paper lands by his elbow, and he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up and look at it. Miss Usami is way too busy with Mioda (who thought it was a good idea to give everyone a preview of her latest song at the beginning of homeroom) to notice a kid near the back of the room reading a note that would fit in the palm of his hands. His last name is written on the front and Fuyuhiko has to admit that whoever wrote it has pretty good penmanship (there’s even a loop on the “y”). He opens it up, only to find a neatly written phone number inside.

He feels eyes on him and immediately turns to look at Hanamura, who winks and makes a his hand into the shape of a phone, placing it right near his ear. “Call me.” Fuyuhiko feels more ill than ever, and he doesn’t hesitate to rip the note in half and toss it over his shoulder. Hanamura scowls and turns away with a huff, clearly dissatisfied with his reaction, and Fuyuhiko would be pleased if he wasn’t so disgusted. He rests his cheek on his arm again, vowing to throw away any more notes without second thought.

What a bunch of idiots indeed.

Chapter Text

Usually Peko likes to follow Fuyuhiko around like some sort of crazed, wooden-practice-sword-wielding bodyguard, but there are still times when he manages to lose her. Now seems to be one of those times.

“Just going to get her lunch…,” he mumbles to himself, taking long strides down the sparsely-filled hallways (it seems most students prefer to spend their lunch hour in the cafeteria or inside an empty classroom). “Who takes ten minutes to get their lunch from their goddamn locker?” He’s already checked her locker, and he would have passed by her if she’d been returning to the classroom as he left it. This leaves very few obvious options. The only place he can think of is the girls’ bathroom, and the last time someone (that someone being a certain Teruteru Hanamura) tried that, Koizumi nearly mauled him. So if that wasn’t already on Fuyuhiko’s list of places not to visit, it certainly is now.

He’s even gone as far as asking a few people, which he doesn’t plan to tell Peko, since he knows she would treat it as if it were a huge accomplishment. He found a few girls from the other second year class talking in the hallway, only deciding to acknowledge them after he recognized one of them from Peko’s kendo club. The other member of the pair (a tan-skinned girl who was way too perky in response to Fuyuhiko’s grumbling) said she saw her getting her lunch from her locker earlier, which solved one mystery, but all in all nothing about the exchange was a pleasant experience for him. He’s just not good at talking to people, which is probably why he sticks with Peko, because she manages to say just as much with silence as she does with words.

Then again, it’s just as likely that she developed that way because of Fuyuhiko (they have known each other since they were in diapers, after all). Most of her traits balance out his in some sense, where he’s hot-headed and quick to anger, she’s calm and collected; where he’s brash and impulsive, she seems to plan out every move she makes with careful precision; where he’s occasionally too short to reach the top shelf, she does it with ease which, while embarrassing, is still very helpful. They complement each other perfectly, which probably explains the “rumors” Hanamura was talking about (Fuyuhiko still refuses to believe the little shit heard that from someone else).

Regardless of all that, there’s absolutely no way Fuyuhiko would ever want to be anything more than friends with Peko. They’ve lived next door to each other all their life, and at this point part of the reason they stick together is out of pure habit. She’s aggravating and kind and always listens and Fuyuhiko wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s like a sister to him, so just the thought of them being romantically involved makes him feel nauseous (okay, the thought of being romantically involved with anyone makes him feel nauseous, but it’s important to note that Peko is not an exception).

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost doesn’t hear the pair of voices from around the corner.

“I mean, come on! You’re so hot, I could bake cookies on you!”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” It’s unmistakably Peko’s voice, which would mean—

Oh hell no.

He rounds the corner as quickly as he can and is not at all surprised to see Hanamura leaning against a locker, Peko standing only a few feet away, lunch box in hand. Fuyuhiko manages to ignore the former, addressing Peko as soon as they make eye contact. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Ishimaru had me run an errand for him.”

Typical Peko, he thinks. Always rushing to help, even at the inconvenience of others. “Then what the hell are you doing with him?” He gestures toward Hanamura, who seems to shrug off the implied insult, smoothly taking a comb out of his back pocket.

Peko’s expression doesn’t change. “He followed me.”

“He what.” It’s not even a question, just a simple reaction of shock.

“I said, he follo—“

“I heard you the first time!” he shouts, feeling his face flush with anger. He turns on his heel, facing Hanamura, who’s running the comb through his hair now, albeit a bit shakily. “And you! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Hanamura’s gaze slides from the tile floor to Fuyuhiko  before returning to the floor again. He chuckles uneasily. “Hmm… Well, it seems I’ve been cornered.”

 “You think?” is Fuyuhiko’s reply, and he makes sure it’s dripping with sarcasm.

The uneasy chuckling turns into an uneasy grin. “But can you really blame me? My mother did tell me to follow my dreams, after all.”

Fuyuhiko’s eye twitches, and he’s sure he feels his stomach lurch a little. “You and Peko? Not even in your dreams, asshole.”

Hanamura is silent for a moment, and then oh god he’s smirking again and either Fuyuhiko’s stopped breathing or he’s asphyxiating (he briefly prays for the second one). “Ah, is it possible that you’re…,” there’s a pause that lasts longer than any pause really should and Fuyuhiko knows what he’s going to say and should really just punch him right now and get it over with, “that you’re jealous?”

In seconds Fuyuhiko has him pressed up against the locker, and he can hear Peko protesting in the background, but he doesn’t care, the little bastard has had this coming to him for too long. Hanamura winces a little as his back hits the locker, and there’s a sharp clack as his comb hits the ground. “I already told you, we’re just friends,” Fuyuhiko says in a low voice (and he has to ignore how Hanamura trembles under his words because he is not letting his conscience catch up with him halfway through).

“J-just friends?” Hanamura repeats, and Fuyuhiko’s surprised he even has the guts to speak. “Oh please. She follows you around non-stop. Do you really expect me to believe you’re just friends?” There’s not even a smirk, just a genuine look of disbelief, and suddenly it occurs to Fuyuhiko that Hanamura actually thinks I have a thing for Peko.

His grip on Hanamura’s shoulders tighten. “You follow Peko around all the time, and she doesn’t like you. You follow me around, too, and if you think I like you, you are sadly fucking mistaken. You follow everyone around, and none of them like you! Don’t you get it? Nobody likes you.”

Hanamura’s gaze drops to the floor, his head hanging low as he hunches his shoulders up to his ears. Fuyuhiko takes a step back, admiring his work. “Well?” he jeers, and Hanamura’s holding himself now, making Fuyuhiko smirk a little. “I hope you’re happy with yourself, because Peko sure never asked to be around the likes of you.” (He can feel Peko’s stare burning into the back of his head, but he ignores it for now.) His smirk only grows when Hanamura tenses, but it breaks entirely when Hanamura looks back up at him and—

…Is he crying?

And suddenly there’s an jittery feeling in the pit of Fuyuhiko’s stomach, and he wants to say something, anything; but he can’t, because Hanamura is turning away and darting down the hall (and Fuyuhiko feels unusually on edge hearing the other boy sobbing as he retreats).

He can still feel Peko staring at him, and it doesn’t take long for him to understand why.

Chapter Text

“You really should apologize to Hanamura, you know.”

The words catch Fuyuhiko off-guard, and the bag of store-bought karinto he’s holding nearly goes tumbling off the bed (it doesn’t though, and for that Fuyuhiko is glad). He turns to look at Peko, who is lying on her stomach right next to him, clutching one of Fuyuhiko’s pillows under her chin. Peko looks right back at him, and he makes sure to give her the most bewildered expression he can manage. He doesn’t mind the conversation too much (they’ve just been lying on his bed and watching mafia movies); he just wishes the conversation didn’t have to be about this.

“He’s upset, Fuyuhiko,” Peko tells him, and there’s more power behind her voice this time.

“Good. The little fucker deserves it, after all he said to you.”

Peko frowns. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Fuyuhiko turns back to the movie, trying to disengage himself from Peko’s words. “And I need you to protect me?”

“You need me more than you think you do.” There’s a long pause, in which Fuyuhiko feels like he should object, but instead he just ends up acknowledging the truth in her statement. “What I’m trying to say is that I honestly wasn’t all that bothered by Hanamura’s advances, so you had no reason to be.”

Fuyuhiko has to grab the remote and pause the movie, because it’s hard not to respond to that. “Really? Who knows what that perv could have done to you!”

“He may be a pervert, but he’s also a person, just like everyone else. And typically, when you hurt another person’s feelings, you apologize.”

Fuyuhiko just takes the remote again and presses play, because damn, she has a point. He tries to focus on the movie, but he can feel it whenever Peko glances at him, and he ends up thinking about Hanamura the old time.

(He doesn’t tell Peko how he kept the comb Hanamura left behind, or how he’s going to bring it to school tomorrow, since he’s thinking about returning it. Even now, it burns in his pocket.)

/ / /

Monday is long and tedious, and halfway through homeroom Fuyuhiko already finds himself wanting to crawl back into bed. Everything and everyone seems to be unusually aggravating. Peko’s been deadly quiet all morning, his classmates are extra annoying, Miss Usami won’t shut up, and Hanamura seems to be ignoring him (but it’s not like he was paying attention to Hanamura. It’s just very hard not to notice how Hanamura’s not noticing him). So when Miss Usami tells the class they will be “discussing the events of chaptew four with your fewwow cwassmates,” Fuyuhiko is less than pleased. When Miss Usami continues to say that she’s already chosen the groups herself, he goes from less than pleased to somewhat aggravated.

So, of course, when his group partners are Koizumi, Tsumiki, and Hanamura, he goes from somewhat aggravated to slightly furious.

Fuyuhiko feels eyes on him, and he turns to glare at whoever’s staring at him, expecting it to be Koizumi or Tsumiki. So naturally he’s surprised when he locks gazes with Hanamura’s unreadable eyes (which is odd,  Fuyuhiko contemplates, because Hanamura is usually so expressive). Hanamura’s eyes widen a little, and then he turns away, colder than ever. Fuyuhiko’s shoulders sink, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s not nearly as happy about Hanamura ignoring him as he should be.

Miss Usami is hardly finished explaining the assignment when Fuyuhiko rises from his seat, trudging over to Hanamura’s desk. He puts his hands on the desk next to him, moving it until the desks are lined up together, side-by-side. He slips into the desk, trying to ignore the fact that no one really forced him to do this and that he could have sat across from Hanamura if he wanted to. Hanamura refuses to look at him, but with the desks pressed together, Fuyuhiko’s foot accidentally brushes against Hanamura’s a few times and he’s almost close enough to feel the warmth from the smaller boy’s body. It’s actually kind of nice, and Fuyuhiko finds himself oddly thankful that Koizumi’s in the group, since she’d probably throw a fit if Hanamura moved to another seat (“Boys on one side, girls on the other! It’s pretty simple, you know!”).

The discussion (if you can even call it that) goes fairly well at first: Koizumi’s leading the group, due to Tsumiki’s wariness, Hanamura’s silent treatment, and Fuyuhiko’s own anti-social attitude; Tsumiki adds in something every so often (usually with “but I’m not really sure,” or “I’m sorry for being so useless,” tacked onto the end); and Fuyuhiko participates more than he typically would, partially because Hanamura’s so quiet, and partially because he’s actually enjoying this book (because kids trying to kill each other with spears is just really entertaining, he argues). And while it’s amusing seeing just how taken aback Koizumi is by Fuyuhiko’s contributions, it just seems to draw more attention to the one person who isn’t contributing.

“Hanamura, aren’t you going to say anything?” Koizumi’s bright yellow nails go tap tap tap on her notebook, her eyes narrowing at Hanamura, who stares idly at his desk.

Seconds pass, and Fuyuhiko finds himself grabbing for a chance for Hanamura to look at him. “Hey, what’s your problem?” And Hanamura does look at him, but Fuyuhiko realizes pretty quickly that he chose the wrong thing to say.

“You know what my problem is,” says Hanamura darkly, before going back to glaring at his desk.

Fuyuhiko can see Koizumi staring at them from the corner of his eye, and she gives him a look that screams, “So? What’s his problem?” He scowls. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

Koizumi’s lip curls upward in disgust. “Excuse me? When did I ever say I wanted to know what’s going on between the two of you?”

“You—you were staring at me like it was suddenly the most important thing on Earth!"

“I was not!”

“Can you just get out of my face for once?”

“I—What the hell is that supposed to—“

“Can you two just shut up?” The voice coming from his left makes Fuyuhiko flinch, and it’s enough to silence Koizumi. Hanamura’s looking up from his desk now, giving Koizumi a fragile glare. “It’s really not worth arguing about. If you want me to tell you, I’ll tell you.”

Koizumi hesitates, bringing a sunshine-yellow nail to her lips. “That would be nice, I guess…”

Hanamura’s expression doesn’t change, but Fuyuhiko notices the way he hunches his shoulders a little. “It’s pretty simple, actually. Kuzuryuu’s just a dick.”

“Kuzuryuu.”

No “-kun.”

Shit, he really is upset.

“A dick?” Fuyuhiko echoes (and he finds that it’s mostly out of instinct). “Of course I’m going to get pissed when you hit on my best friend!”

“She was putting up with it…,” Hanamura mutters, still avoiding Fuyuhiko’s gaze.

“The fact that she had to put up with it is proof enough.”

Hanamura gives him a glance, from the corner of his eye. “Proof of what?”

“Guys, we should really get back to the discussio—“

“Proof that she didn’t want you around, asshole!” Fuyuhiko senses he’s being too loud; he feels more pairs of eyes on him than just Koizumi and Tsumiki’s.

Hanamura turns to look at him now, and something about those dark, dark eyes finally meeting Fuyuhiko’s makes him feel sick to his stomach. “Oh, and I guess no one wants me around then, huh?!”

“Well I sure fucking don’t!” Fuyuhiko can’t stop himself now and he can’t even tell if he wants to; the words just spill out of his mouth before he can register what it is he’s saying. “I’d rather disembowel myself on the spot than be seen hanging around you!”

Hanamura’s shoulders are almost touching his ears now, and even in his mind-numbing rage, Fuyuhiko can tell he’s on his last nerve. “Well I can’t see why anyone would want to hang around you! You’re grumpy—“

“Boys…”

“—you’re vulgar—“

“Boys.”

“—and all you know how to do is yell at people!”

“Boys!”

Fuyuhiko spins around in his seat, ready to do the only thing he knows how to (at least according to Hanamura), but the words die in his throat. “Both of you… aftew cwass…,” says Miss Usami; chest heaving, face as pink as her ponytail.

///

“I’m sure you both know I don’t appweciate yelling in my cwasswoom, especially during cwass discussion!” Miss Usami’s peach pink heels make quick, sharp noises when they hit the floor, and Fuyuhiko tries his hardest to focus on that instead of paying any mind to the shaking, teary-eyed boy beside him. Miss Usami may not be the most assertive of teachers, but when she gets angry, people listen. She’s definitely angry now, with the way she paces back and forth in front of the whiteboard, glaring at the walls. “I hope you boys can learn to get awong, otherwise I’ll be forced to take this to the pwincipal’s office.”

From the right, Fuyuhiko can hear Hanamura stammer, “R-r-really, ma’am, that’s not n-necessary, ma’am!”

Miss Usami turns to face them, glowering over her glasses. “Weally, now?” Her gaze shifts over to Fuyuhiko. “Well, Kuzuryuu-kun? What do you think?”

Fuyuhiko frowns, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “No, it’s not…,” he grumbles, because he really doesn’t need something stupid like this to end up on his permanent record.  “We… we’ll try to get along…”

Miss Usami hums thoughtfully, wringing her hands together. “I think it would be a good idea for you to apologize to each other, and work out your diffewences.”

If there’s one thing Fuyuhiko has little experience with, it’s apologizing, so he stays quiet until Hanamura lets out a quiet sigh, deciding to go first.

“I… I’m sorry I called you a dick, and… and I’m sorry I hit on Peko…” There’s a pause, and then Fuyuhiko swears he hears him mumble, “I didn’t mean to make you angry…”

There’s a distinct pause, but Fuyuhiko doesn’t speak until Miss Usami gives him a stern look. “I-I… I’m… s-sorry I slammed you against a locker, and th-that I told you no one liked you… and that I sort of said I hated you…” It’s fumbling and awful and Fuyuhiko can feel himself turning red, but Miss Usami seems pleased enough.

“Vewy good. I think the two of you could get awong swimmingly if you just put in a bit of effowt. You could even be fwiends.” Friends? Fuyuhiko doesn’t buy it. He wouldn’t be caught dead with Teruteru Hanamura, and that’s that.

But he still feels uneasy when Monomi dismisses them and Hanamura stands, shaky and sniveling, so he fishes the comb out of his pocket and shoves it into Hanamura’s hands before grabbing his bag and bolting out of the classroom.

(And he ignores the feeling he got in his stomach when Hanamura looked up at him, eyes still welling with tears—nauseous, but fluttery, like butterflies. What the hell is wrong with him?)

Chapter Text

Tuesday comes and goes, but by Wednesday Fuyuhiko is still completely caught up in this Hanamura nonsense. Typically, he would have given the comb to Hanamura, stormed out of the classroom, and been completely done with the whole ordeal. He wishes that were the case. Instead, he manages to find himself focused, yet again, on the smaller (and much more obnoxious, he reasons) boy. Either that, or he just has terrible luck. By the beginning of lunch, he’s already:

1. literally bumped into Hanamura while entering homeroom.
2. sort of decided to sit behind Hanamura instead of halfway across the room from him.
3. witnessed Hanamura trying to approach him at break (when they made eye contact, the cook retreated).
4. almost killed Saionji with an arrow during PE because Hanamura was staring at him (and he would have gotten kicked out of class if Mr. Monokuma hadn’t been laughing so hard).
5. ended up standing outside of the home ec room, where he can hear the sharp sizzling of something cooking on the stovetop and the soft, yet distinct humming of Teruteru Hanamura.

He doesn’t even know how he got here. Maybe he was trying to look for Hanamura, or maybe he was just kind of thinking about it, but either way he came to a stop when he noticed the door to the home ec room was slightly ajar. I’ll just stay out here for a little while, he tells himself, just stay for a little while and then leave. But when the fresh scent of herbs and spices drifts out of the room, Fuyuhiko’s feet move on their own accord, and suddenly his hand is up, and it’s pushing the door open…

“Hanamura?” he doesn’t think about saying it; it just sort of pops out (but then again, it seems he usually doesn’t think before he speaks in the first place).

Hanamura flinches, bringing the spatula he’s holding close to his chest. “Kuzuryuu-kun!” His gaze calms a little, and he fixes Fuyuhiko with a confused look. “What are you doing here?”

Fuyuhiko stares at the walls as he takes a few steps into the room. “I smelled food,” he says simply, not wanting to mention the humming, or how he knew he’d find Hanamura inside before he even opened the door.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Hanamura shift a little closer to the stove. “Did you bring a lunch?”

Fuyuhiko shakes his head, a little pleased that it’s not a lie. He had been running late this morning, and it wasn’t like Natsumi was gonna offer any help. He had expected Peko to share her lunch, but—

“Ah— I’ll, uh, make you something!”

--he could already tell that wouldn’t be necessary.

“It’s fine,” he tells Hanamura, taking a seat at a nearby table. “What are you making right now? As long as there’s no,” he hesitates, feeling a bit violent, “dairy, I’ll be fine.”

Hanamura fixes him a look. “You’re lactose intolerant?” he asks, as if he never would have guessed.

Fuyuhiko turns his head away, staring down at his hands. “W-whatever! It doesn’t matter.” Swiftly, he looks for a way to change the subject. “And hey, you never answered my question. What are you cooking? It smells good.” The compliment slips out without him even realizing it was one, until he catches Hanamura smiling.

“This? It’s not a specific recipe, I suppose, just some pork, with a bit of—“ He starts rambling off a long list of spices and oils and whatever else that can be added to meat, and Fuyuhiko quickly finds himself not listening.

“Hanamura. I don’t want to hear its life story. I want to eat it.”

The talking stops abruptly, but Hanamura doesn’t seem angry, other than a pout and a little huff. He opens a cupboard and pulls out a plate, all while cutting the piece of meat in half. “Fine. I made too much anyways. Now that I’ve fixed that little problem, it should be perfect.” One half of the meat goes on one plate and one half on the other, in what seems like one fluid motion. He picks up both plates, turns on his heel, and places one plate in front of Fuyuhiko, saying something he doesn’t quite catch (he thinks it might have been in French, though).

There’s already a fork and a knife right by him, resting on a napkin, perhaps the ones Hanamura had intended to use (this is confirmed when he spots Hanamura fishing through a drawer for utensils of his own). He lifts the fork in one hand, takes the knife in the other, and lowers them to cut a small piece off of the portion of meat set out before him. He lifts the fork to his mouth (only vaguely wondering if Hanamura would poison him before realizing the other boy had no idea he would walk into the room), and he’s actually a little surprised by how good it is. He had heard Hanamura was a great cook, but this…

“So? How is it?”

He snaps out of his reverie, chewing and swallowing the small piece of meat before turning to address Hanamura. “I-it’s good,” he stammers, trying to ignore the fact that this is the second time he’s complimented Hanamura today.

Hanamura smiles again, this time directly at Fuyuhiko. “I thought so,” he says, sliding into the seat across from him. "Back in Minami-Aoyama, my cuisine was called ‘the tastiest food on earth.'”

Fuyuhiko can’t help but snicker a little. “Yeah, sure…,” he remarks before sticking another small piece of the dish into his mouth.

Hanamura scoffs, but he chews and swallows before speaking. “It’s true!” Fuyuhiko just rolls his eyes and continues eating, so there’s a long, drawn-out pause before Hanamura says, “Thank you for returning my comb, by the way…”

Fuyuhiko feels himself turn red. “I… it’s no problem. Don’t fucking mention it,” he says, and he means it. He doesn’t want anyone to know he actually felt a shred of sympathy for Hanamura, of all people. Nobody seems to like the guy, and Fuyuhiko doesn’t plan to be the first. “I didn’t think it’d mean so much to you…,” he mutters, more to himself than to Hanamura.

Hanamura pauses again, picking at his food a little before speaking. “It’s just… I didn’t expect anyone to actually care. Especially not you.”

Fuyuhiko’s fork comes to a stop. He looks directly at Hanamura now, trying not to let any sort of emotion show on his face. “What do you mean, ‘actually care’?”

There’s yet another pause; this time because Hanamura’s eating, but there’s a thoughtful look on his face before he swallows. “Well, I guess… you’re sort of right about me, but also wrong at the same time.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

If there’s a hesitation this time, Fuyuhiko doesn’t notice. “Nobody really likes me, okay? I—I know that. I’m not stupid. But, I mean—at least when people put up with me, I-I can pretend they like me. And I guess I… I just sort of tried to ignore it; how nobody liked me, because I wanted to pretend I actually fit in somewhere, you know? I just… I wanted to belong for once. So I pretended they liked me, and just sort of tried to delude myself like this and then—“ He stops abruptly, as soon as his voice starts to get hoarse and his face starts to turn red.

“And then I kind of killed that, huh?” Fuyuhiko mumbles, feeling another pang of guilt take hold of him.

Hanamura nods, but says nothing.

“You know,” Fuyuhiko starts, “if you stopped perving on everyone, people might actually give you the time of day.”

“I—I know. I just, I thought that… if I became some suave, debonair Casanova—you know the type—people might think I was… cool, or something.”

“So you’re not normally like this…?”

Hanamura is having a staring contest with his plate. “Not entirely… I mean, I guess part of it’s really me now, but I wasn’t really always like this.”

Fuyuhiko fights with himself a little (if he asks, will he really have a way out of this?) before opening his mouth again. "What were you like before, then?"

Hanamura brings his fork to his lips, but doesn't take the food in his mouth. A second passes by before he sets the fork down on the plate, giving Fuyuhiko a hesitant (yet oddly trusting) look. "Kind of a dork, I guess. I cried a lot, got angry easily, I was kind of a momma's boy..." His gaze shifts just a little, and Fuyuhiko realizes Hanamura's looking at the wall behind him instead of looking directly at him. "Nobody really paid any attention to me, so I guess I thought--" he stops himself again, this time more decisively. "Whatever. It didn't work, anyways."

Fuyuhiko looks right at him, silently hoping Hanamura returns his gaze. "Well, I'm paying attention to you, aren't I?"

Hanamura tenses a little, and his gaze shifts back to Fuyuhiko. "Yeah, I... I guess you are..." There's a long pause as Hanamura continues eating. "You're the last person I would have expected this from," he says as soon as his mouth is empty, "especially after what you said to me."

"Well, I... I guess I felt bad for you. I can't remember the last time I actually made someone cry. I only ever really hang out with Peko, and she's... well, you know."

Hanamura nods, because yes, he must know. Peko's about as emotional as a cardboard box. Meaning, not at all.

There's hardly a lull in the conversation before Hanamura says, "I wouldn't mind hanging out with you," to which Fuyuhiko almost chokes on his food because is Hanamura asking him to be friends (and why is that idea not as unappealing as Fuyuhiko had thought for it to be)?

Hanamura flinches, and is probably about to ask if he's okay before Fuyuhiko cuts him off. "You want to be friends with me?"

"I-I don't know, I mean...," there's a moment where Hanamura stares at his plate, before giving Fuyuhiko a hesitant look (he's wincing, Fuyuhiko notices), "you're not that bad... I mean, you gave my comb back and--"

"Don't make a big deal out of the comb. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me." He's smiling now, and Fuyuhiko notices now that he's had the comb in his lap the whole time. He's holding it gingerly, staring at it with a fond look in his eyes. "Like I said, no one's ever really nice to me."

Fuyuhiko doesn't really want to, but he draws within himself, crossing his arms over his chest. "That wasn't being nice. I-- I'm not nice."

Hanamura looks up at him now. "You tried, and if it's any consolation, it made me pretty happy."

Fuyuhiko's lips betray him, curling up into a smile. "I-- fuck, I'm actually enjoying talking to you."

"I don't hear that very often," Hanamura says, but he's still smiling. "So? You wouldn't mind if we talked like this more often, would you?"

Fuyuhiko feels like he should hesitate, but he doesn't (at least, not as much as he imagined he would). "Eh, why the fuck not? It might be nice having someone else around." He tries to give Hanamura a serious look, but he realizes he's still smiling like an idiot. "Don't follow me around like some creepy stalker, though."

For a second he's afraid (but why would be afraid, he asks himself) that he's upset Hanamura again. But Hanamura smiles back, and Fuyuhiko feels the worry dissolve in the pit of his stomach. "Why not?" he asks, and the smile's a little playful now. "My mother always told me to follow my dreams."

Fuyuhiko launches a nearby napkin into Hanamura's face, but for the first time in a long while, he finds himself laughing.

Chapter Text

The easiest way to deal with Hanamura, as Fuyuhiko quickly learns, is to not take anything he says to heart. So when Hanamura greets him at his front door with, "Good morning, Kuzuryuu-kun. As handsome as ever, I see," Fuyuhiko hardly bats an eye. But Fuyuhiko's sister (who is sitting on the couch, texting someone) looks up from her phone and laughs out loud, not at all different from a rabid hyena.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend," she says, wiping tears from her eyes as she catches her breath.

"I don't," Fuyuhiko replies, just as Hanamura steps into the Kuzuryuu family living room.

Hanamura's gaze lands on her immediately. "Hello, and who is this?" He turns to Fuyuhiko just as the latter realizes he has no idea how to introduce people to each other.

He opts for the easy route. "Uh... This is my sister, Natsumi. Natsumi, this is Teruteru Hanamura. He's in my class. We're, uh..."

"Meant to be?" Natsumi finishes with a grin, and Fuyuhiko can't help but turn red when Hanamura grins right back at her.

"Friends, Natsumi. We are friends; I swear to god." Natsumi says nothing, but she's still grinning, and Fuyuhiko hates the implications it holds. 

"You never told me you had a sister, Kuzuryuu-kun," Hanamura says, and it sounds off-handed until he continues. "She's very cute. Must be genetic."

"Ooh... This one's a keeper, bro."

"Would you both shut the fuck up?" Natsumi and Hanamura laugh, and Fuyuhiko can only soak in his embarrassment as he feels the tips of his ears burn. "A-anyways," he mutters, pushing the word in a forceful way to change the subject (because sorry if he doesn't find the idea of making out with Hanamura all that appealing), "he's just going to be here for a while. We won't bother you, so don't bother us."

Natsumi's eyes are glued to her phone again, as if she's completely lost interest in the conversation. "Won't be a problem. I have a friend picking me up at ten."

"Ten? Isn't that in about...," his eyes flicker to the elegant black clock on the living room wall, "two minutes?"

"It is," she confirms, shrugging slightly. Fuyuhiko knows it's her silent way of saying, "So what?"

"Do Mom and Dad know you're leaving?"

"Yeah."

"Where are you going?" he continues, hardly caring if Hanamura thinks he's being overprotective.

Natsumi looks up at him, pouting. "We're just going to the movies, geez!"

Fuyuhiko's about to ask who she's going with, but a gentle knock on the doorframe answers his question. On his porch stands someone Fuyuhiko never expected to see: Koizumi, her sunshine-yellow nails almost as blinding as the stripes of purple in her hair. "Your hair is purple," he says, mostly in an attempt to ignore the shell-shock-inducing event that is Mahiru Koizumi standing on his porch.

Koizumi scowls, fussing with a few strands of bright violet hair. "They're clip-ons...," she mumbles, before looking straight at him, her pretty face scrunching up in anger. "Anyways, I'm here for Natsumi-chan."

Instantly Fuyuhiko finds himself facing Natsumi again, who's already risen from the couch and stuffed her phone in a flower-shaped purse. "How do you know Koizumi?"

"We're both on the yearbook committee," she replies matter-of-factly, adjusting her twin pigtails and the butterfly hairclip that's attached to her head. She smooths out her frilly, froofy, girly tank top before giving Fuyuhiko a look. "What, do you have a problem with her?"

"She chased me down the hall with a hairbrush once," Hanamura quietly offers.

"Only because you tried to sneak into the girls' bathroom!" Koizumi cries, hands on her hips.

"I told you, Kuwata-kun set me up!"

Koizumi looks like she's about to retort, but then she stops herself, her expression transitioning from frustrated to bemused. "Wait, why are you here?"

Kuzuryuu doesn't really want to answer that question (very few people at school had caught on to their friendship, and he'd prefer for it to stay that way), but he really isn't in the mood to get bitched out by Koizumi, especially when he had no idea she would be showing up at his front door. "We're kind of friends."

Hanamura echoes, "Kind of?" right as Koizumi says, "Really?" Hanamura looks a little miffed, and Fuyuhiko hopes he isn't too upset (usually his anger doesn't go beyond pouting and huffing, though). He just wasn't prepared to tell people about their friendship, especially after the big blowup during class last week. Koizumi, on the other hand, looks pretty shocked, and Fuyuhiko really can't blame her. This came completely out of left field, even for him.

"Yeah," Natsumi sneers, stepping outside to join Koizumi on the porch. "They're totally lame for each other. It's great."

Koizumi laughs at this, and Fuyuhiko feels the urge to yank Natsumi's pigtails right off of her head. "Shut up," he mutters, knowing how useless it is to fight back.

Natsumi just shrugs and leans forward to grab the doorknob. "Tell mom and dad I'll be back around one," she says before closing the door behind her.

Beside him, Hanamura smiles. "I like your sister. She seems nice."

"Oh? And here I was hoping you'd help me plan her murder."

Hanamura chuckles, at least until the door opens and Natsumi pops her pigtailed head back in. "Oh, by the way, Fuyuhiko. I forgot to mention; it looks like you finally found someone shorter than you. Congratulations!"

The door closes with a click.

"So, what exactly does this murder plan entail...?"

Fuyuhiko just laughs in reply before taking Hanamura's hand and pulling him through the house. They stop in the kitchen, where Fuyuhiko pauses and looks to Hanamura for some sort of reaction. (He also doesn't let go of Hanamura's hand, something he will realize later.)

There's a cold, calculating expression on the cook's face before he speaks. "It's alright. Pretty standard as far as kitchens go."

"I figured you'd say something like that." He motions to the counter, where a variety of items are neatly spread out: flour, sugar, eggs, baking soda, chocolate chips... "I got all the stuff you told me to." (Actually, his mom bought everything, but he figures that small factoid doesn't make much of a difference.)

"Great!" Hanamura lets go of Fuyuhiko's hand in his rush to the counter, and it's only then that Fuyuhiko realizes they were holding hands for longer than they should have been. He decides to ignore this, and joins Hanamura at the kitchen counter.

"So. You never told me what it is we're making."

"Just cookies. Chocolate chip; I figured it's a classic, plus it's really easy."

"Do you have a recipe?"

Hanamura smirks. "I know it by heart."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me. So, how do we start?"

The smirk turns into a frown. "First you have to wash your hands."

Fuyuhiko doesn't object to this, mostly because he finds no good reason to. The hand washing turns into a battle when they both try to squeeze in front of the kitchen sink at the same time, and they end up getting dish soap all over each others' arms. It's chaotic, but it proves to be effective when all hands participating come out cleaner than before.

Hanamura is quick to preheat the oven, and he's also quick to tell Fuyuhiko (who has zero experience with this sort of stuff) that no, it will not burn the house down. "It doesn't just jump right to the temperature you want it to. It takes time, which is why you have to preheat it."

He hands Fuyuhiko a small dish with a portion of butter in it. "Microwave this for 10 seconds, and not on high or it'll be too soft. It's already kind of soft anyways, but it'll still be hard to mix." Fuyuhiko normally doesn't follow orders, but he's sure Hanamura knows what he's doing, so he does exactly what he says (and he has to reason with himself that he's not intimidated by just how serious Hanamura is when he's working). When the butter is done, Hanamura has already started mixing together different kinds of sugar. Fuyuhiko hands him the butter, and Hanamura adds it to the bowl and continues mixing in one motion.

Fuyuhiko finds himself measuring amounts of vanilla extract and cracking eggs (with Hanamura constantly correcting his methods, and always showing him the "right" way to do it), all at Hanamura's command. Flour, baking soda, and salt are added to the bowl, all while Fuyuhiko tries to ignore the fact that he's playing the role of Hanamura's assistant (and also ignoring how that isn't as bad as he would have thought because of course it's awful). Hanamura stirs the ingredients into the large mixing bowl with ease, and even if Fuyuhiko had never  met him before he would have been able to recognize that he's done this hundreds of times before. Watching Hanamura in his environment is interesting; a few times Fuyuhiko finds himself spacing out, at least until Hanamura gives him another task to complete.

"Grease the cookie sheets," Hanamura says as he mixes chocolate chips into the cookie batter, subtly motioning to a can of spray-on oil nearby. "We should have enough batter for two batches. And don't add too much, okay? Lightly grease them." The way Hanamura commands his is obnoxious, he decides, but he does what he says anyways.

Hanamura needs his help putting the batter on the cookie sheets, and it's then that Fuyuhiko feels like he and Hanamura are more of an equal team, rather than Fuyuhiko just being Hanamura's little baker accessory. It feels nicer, being on Hanamura's level. It's like the first day in the home ec room, when they were finally seeing eye to eye, and it was like something that was previously non-existent was suddenly just there.

Hanamura sticks the first batch in the oven, sinking into a chair after he sets the timer. Fuyuhiko sits in a chair opposite of him, and it's quiet for a minute before Hanamura speaks up. "Is that Fujisaki-kun?" he asks, staring out the kitchen window.

"What?" is Fuyuhiko's gut reaction, since that was one of the last things he would have expected Hanamura to say.

"Fujisaki-kun," Hanamura repeats, getting up to stand in front of the window, "from our school." He motions for Fuyuhiko to join him. When Fuyuhiko gets to the window, he quickly deduces that 1.) yes, that is Chihiro Fujisaki standing outside, and 2.) he's standing in front of Peko's house. Actually, he's walking up the steps of the porch and knocking on her door, which seems odd to Fuyuhiko, since he's never heard about Peko and Fujisaki being friends.

Fuyuhiko must be making a face, because when Hanamura looks at him he asks if something is wrong. "No, nothing," Fuyuhiko replies, since nothing is really wrong. "It's just... that's Peko's house. I didn't know she and Fujisaki were friends."

"Maybe they're working on a project together. For school."

"They're in different classes, idiot."

"Then maybe Fujisaki-kun's gone to confess his love!" Fuyuhiko knows Hanamura is joking (at least he thinks Hanamura is joking), but he still considers the possibility anyways. He's not at all sure how he feels about it.

"Screw it. I'll just ask Peko." He turns on his heel and reaches for his phone, which is sitting on the table.

"But it's much more fun to solve the mystery ourselves!" protests Hanamura, following him to the tableside.

"Yeah, but it's easier and more practical to just ask Peko why the fuck Fujisaki is in her house."

Hanamura is back to staring out the window. "Is he really inside? I mean, I can't see him, but--"

"It doesn't matter if he's inside!" cries Fuyuhiko. He's already punching the buttons on his phone's keypad, and by the time Hanamura's at his side again he's already sent the message to Peko. He slams the phone down on the tabletop, only for it to vibrate seconds later.

New message! the screen announces. Fuyuhiko presses a button, and the screen alights with Peko's reply.

'He asked me to teach him some basic sword-fighting techniques. He says he wants to be stronger, but isn't sure how to go about it.'

When the fuck did this happen? Fuyuhiko wonders, but he doesn't reply. He sets the phone back on the table, still not sure what to think of Peko's newfound friendship. He's always been Peko's only friend; her best friend; the threat of being replaced lingers in the air like a bad omen. Peko is his friend, after all. Who told Fujisaki he could just go and learn sword-fighting from her?

From the corner of his eye, he notices Hanamura giving him a look. "So...?"

And that look is enough to bring Fuyuhiko back to his senses, because of course. Maybe this is how Peko feels. They've always been each other's only friends, but it doesn't mean Peko is his property. She's allowed to be friends with Fujisaki, just like Fuyuhiko's allowed to be friends with Hanamura. It may take a while to get used to, but it's just something he'll have to deal with from now on.

Fuyuhiko sits down in his chair again. "She's teaching him sword-fighting. Nothing special."

Chapter Text

The more time Fuyuhiko spends with Hanamura, the more comfortable Hanamura becomes; and the more comfortable Hanamura becomes, the more flirty he acts. It's a frustrating cycle, really, and Fuyuhiko can't quite place his finger on why.

It's not like he isn't used to it by now. He would have ditched Hanamura a long time ago if he couldn't deal with some flirting. No, it's not that he can't get used to him, or even that it bothers him. He knows Hanamura doesn't mean what he says. There's no reason to get upset or to get flustered about it, at least not in Fuyuhiko's mind. An admittedly clever line deserves no reaction other than a quick eyeroll. No, Hanamura's flirting is harmless, and Fuyuhiko has trained himself to not think much of it. But something about it is unnerving anyways.

It's odd; the way Hanamura's playful, joking flirtatiousness is involuntarily getting to him. Hanamura will make a quick little comment, or maybe wink is his direction, and then sometimes there's this weird fizzy feeling in the back of Fuyuhiko's stomach. At first Fuyuhiko thought it was just indigestion or something, but then it happened again, and he realized the strange feeling wasn't all that unpleasant. It never lasts long, but it's always bubbly like soda pop. Fuyuhiko thinks it's a sign of disgust, or maybe anger, but that doesn't make sense when he's already told himself there's no reason to get upset about this (but now he is getting upset about this, because having feelings you can't identify is very frustrating).

There are other feelings, too; just as indefinable as the fizzy stomach feeling. Sometimes there's an slight head rush, or the fizzy feeling will travel up to his shoulders and make him shiver a little. That last one is particularly easy to play off as disgust, but still he wishes he knew what it was so he didn't have to play it off as disgust. These little bolts of energy pass by him so fast that he hardly has time to analyze them, to figure out what they are, or to even realize they're happening, which is even more aggravating.

For now he just tries to ignore whatever it is, because he just doesn't feel like dealing with it (and as he's learned, bottling his emotions up is a lot better than letting them all out at once). And hey-- maybe if he blocks out the feelings, pretends they don't exist; maybe they'll go away.

Maybe.

He hopes so.

(Because this is really confusing and he has things to do with his life other than obsessing over Hanamura again.)

Fuyuhiko ends up alone with Hanamura in the home ec room again on a Friday, a day when he'd much rather be focused on getting through the day and going home. Eating lunch in the home ec room has become a habit at this point; he, Peko, and Hanamura eating lunch they bring from home or eating something Hanamura makes on the off chance one of them (accidentally-on-purpose) forgets to bring their lunch. But today Peko has decided to eat lunch elsewhere (with Fujisaki, Fuyuhiko suspects), leaving Hanamura and Fuyuhiko alone together. Which is fine and dandy, sure; but it's a lot easier to ignore these weird feelings with Peko around to distract him.

"Kuzuryuu-kun, if I'm going to make you food, you should at least try to eat it."

Fuyuhiko doesn't jump, and he definitely isn't startled by Hanamura's voice. He just twitches slightly, because he was taken off guard. And isn't it ironic, he thinks, how he manages to forget Hanamura's in the room because he's so distracted by thoughts about Hanamura? "Oh, right," he says, just barely muttering, "sorry," before getting back to eating his food. From across the table, Hanamura nods, smiling slightly (it seems to be an understanding they have, even so early on in their friendship).

Unfortunately, Fuyuhiko can only focus on so many things at once. So after only a minute or two of thinking and eating all at once, he feels something hit the side of his chair. He looks to his left just in time to see Hanamura slide into the chair next to him. As in, directly next to him. Pressed up to his own chair. Fuyuhiko swallows not only the food in his mouth, but the lump in his throat. "What?"

Hanamura pouts (or frowns, maybe; it seems like Hanamura's always pouting when he's upset, so there must be some sort of divide). "You're ignoring me."

"I, well... I'm-- no, I'm not." Not on purpose, anyway.

Hanamura leans towards him a little; and suddenly their shoulders are touching and Fuyuhiko has no idea why that's of importance. "You've hardly said a word to me since the start of lunch. Is something wrong?" The underlying question of, 'am I bothering you?' seems to be implied, but it doesn't look like Hanamura wants to say it out loud.

"Everything's fine." It's nothing you need to worry about.

Hanamura's little hands are around Fuyuhiko's arm now, shaking it back and forth just enough to be bothersome. "Kuzuryuu-kuuuun...!" he whines, much to the chagrin of Fuyuhiko's ears. "You're avoiding my questions! Don't do this to me! I thought we were friends!"

"We are; now let go!" He elbows Hanamura; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to pry away his hands.

There's a moment of silence as Fuyuhiko continues eating and Hanamura sits in quiet contemplation. Fuyuhiko starts to think he's given up when Hanamura's head rests on his shoulder. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Nothing," Hanamura says, but it's definitely something with the way he's moving closer to Fuyuhiko. Their hips are touching now, Fuyuhiko notices, and fuck-- the fizzy feeling is in his chest for just a second, but then it's gone. His heartbeat is actually noticeable now, which is weird, because usually Fuyuhiko isn't conscious of an organ pumping blood through his body. "I'm just making myself comfortable."

"Like fuck you are," Fuyuhiko mumbles, and that only seems to encourage Hanamura, who actually nuzzles Fuyuhiko's shoulder (and Fuyuhiko has to resist the urge to cut off that pompadour with a nearby kitchen knife, because who even does that?).

Fuyuhiko must have tensed up a little, because the next thing he knows Hanamura is asking, "What's wrong, Kuzuryuu-kun?" in the quietest voice he's ever heard him use. The only reason Fuyuhiko can hear what he's saying is because Hanamura's whispering right into his ear. A tremendous head rush overcomes Fuyuhiko, and it takes a second for the room to stop spinning. But when his thoughts are back in order, there's only one thing on his mind.

Revenge.

He can't let Hanamura have this much power over him; friends or not. If Hanamura wants a fight, it's a fight he'll get. And unfortunately for him, Fuyuhiko doesn't play nice.

"Nothing," Fuyuhiko replies briskly, snaking his arm around Hanamura's waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "nothing at all." And it's so satisfying, the way he can feel Hanamura's face heat up against his neck.

Stunned silence lingers for one beat; two...

"I-I'm sorry. What?"

Fuyuhiko shrugs, although he's unable to mask his smirk. "You heard me. Everything's fine. Thanks for asking, though." He picks up his fork again, casually taking another portion of food off of his plate.

"But-- you just--" Fuyuhiko's not even looking at Hanamura, but he can see him. The wide eyes, the burning red cheeks, the way his head turns back and forth as he looks from Fuyuhiko's face to the hand resting on his waist. It's too predictable to pay attention to, but it's too amusing to ignore entirely. "Are you actually hitting on me?"

"I'm just doing what you always do to me."

There's a pause, and then, "Okay. That's-- fair enough."

"...Are you actually hitting on me?"

"No," Fuyuhiko can hear the defensive pout in Hanamura's voice. "I just-- it's like what I said. That Casanova-ness, it rubbed off on me."

"Oh yeah," says Fuyuhiko, mouth half-full of food, "you're a real Casanova, alright."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Hanamura tells him quickly, as if on instinct. "And yeah, I can't keep the ladies off of me. Gentlemen, too. Everyone, really. Case in point." He elbows Fuyuhiko, who replies by nudging Hanamura with his hip.

"Yep. Totally got me," Fuyuhiko replies, and it's weird how natural it feels. The weird fizzy feeling is still popping up, sure, but it doesn't seem to be of concern any more. Something about this whole situation just makes sense, like this is the way it's supposed to be. He takes another bite of his food, briefly thanking the great spirits above for the blessing that is Teruteru Hanamura's cooking. Who knew revenge felt this good?

"So...," Hanamura starts, and Fuyuhiko actually looks at him this time, "what time do you have to be back in heaven?"

This time, Fuyuhiko makes sure to swallow his food before he speaks. "Six-ish. You?"

Chapter Text

Fuyuhiko is sort of half-asleep when class starts (he blames Sonia for all that fucked-up stuff he found on the internet last night. He could hardly sleep last night, and all because he just had to ask what was up with that faceless tentacle guy that Sonia was drawing in the back of her notebook), so he hardly notices Miss Usami call for everyone's attention, tapping her ruler against the edge of her desk. He does notice, however, when a folded up slip of paper ends up wedged under his elbow.

"Evwyone, may I have your attention, pwease?"

Fuyuhiko does not give Miss Usami his attention; rather, he gives his attention to Teruteru, who is sitting next to him, and is likely the one who shoved this piece of paper under his elbow. He stares at him, long and hard, while Teru stares off into the distance, neither at him nor at Miss Usami; obviously pretending he isn't aware of Fuyuhiko's presence. Fuyuhiko waits a few seconds more, and then Teru glances at him, probably thinking the coast was clear. Then he flinches slightly, averting his gaze as if he had never been looking at Fuyuhiko in the first place. Fuyuhiko just barely stifles a smile before taking the piece of paper in his hands and furtively unfolding it under his desk.

"We have a new student joining our cwass today..." That catches Fuyuhiko's attention. He glances at the front of the room, and he's able to quickly identify the new student. A girl standing by the doorway with long, dark hair. She's unremarkable, really, and that alone is enough to drive Fuyuhiko back towards the scrap of paper in his hands.

'Are you busy today?' is written at the top of the paper in Teru's tidy handwriting. Fuyuhiko feels almost bad that he'll be replying in his own messy scrawl, but not bad enough to wait until break to give him an answer. He grabs a pen from his desk and begins writing out a response.

"She's going to be with us for the west of the school year, so pwease be kind to her!"

'No. Why?' It's a simple response, but he's pretty sure that's what Teru expected. He slides the note onto Teru's desk as discreetly as possible, hoping Miss Usami doesn't catch him in the act. He pretends to pay attention to what's going on at the front of the room now, just in time to see the dull-looking girl introduce herself.

"Hello. My name is Yurika Satou. I hope we can all get along." What do you know? Her speech compliments her looks almost perfectly.

The slip of paper lands in his lap, and Fuyuhiko checks to make sure Miss Usami is preoccupied with Satou before hastily unfolding it. 'My family wants to meet you. I sort of talk about you a lot.' Fuyuhiko is willing to bet that's a huge understatement, but he decides to omit any quips about Teru's talkative nature from his reply.

"Satou-san, why don't you take a seat next to... Koizumi-san. Koizumi-san, waise your hand so Satou-san can see it, pwease!" From the corner of his eye, Fuyuhiko sees Koizumi's hand skyrocket into the air.

'What, are we dating or something? Anyways, yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to come over today?' He places the note on Teru's desk again, and when he does, he turns his head just enough to notice Koizumi has replaced her sunshine-yellow nail polish with a leafy-green one. Huh.

"Ooh, new meat," he hears Saionji say— loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that Miss Usami can't hear. "First thing's first: don't mind the pig bitch sitting behind you. She doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut."

There's a strangled noise from Tsumiki and a soft, "Stop that!" from Koizumi. "Like you're really any better. Sorry about her. I'm Mahiru Koizumi."

"Yurika Satou... But I guess you already heard that," there's a slight laugh. "That's a nice camera."

"Oh, thanks! Photography is like, my passion. ...I-I guess." Koizumi sounds embarrassed, like she's gotten a little too excited about taking pictures. Fuyuhiko doesn't get it, but he's not surprised (which applies to anyone in this God-forsaken classroom, really).

"Really? That's so cool! Do you just... go out and take pictures of stuff, then?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I take a lot of pictures for the school newspaper lately. It's good practice."

"I bet." Fuyuhiko feels marginally bad for listening in on their conversation, but there's only one desk between him and Koizumi: Teru's, and he'd prefer to stay close. ...To make note-passing easier. That's the only reason.

(Okay, maybe that Friday in the home ec room wasn't the only close encounter of the flirt kind the two of them have had. It's starting to become pretty typical for them; like playful banter between friends. They don't mean anything by it, they both know that, and that's exactly why it works. They can just say things without worrying about the implications, the consequences, or the drama that would be attached if they actually meant it.)

He realizes that he's stopped listening into Koizumi and Satou's conversation when the folded-up note lands in his lap again. He unfolds it once more, still taking care to be discreet about it. 'Only if you want to be. ;)' Fuyuhiko takes a second to roll his eyes at this, and then he continues reading. 'Today works fine. You can do that, right?' He feels Teru staring at him, so he just gives him a nod before shoving the note in his own pocket.

He hardly notices Peko, sitting behind him, leaning back in her chair; almost as if she had just been leaning forward.

/ / /

"So I heard you're finally taking him to meet your parents."

"You told her?" Teruteru asks, giving him a mockingly betrayed look. The three of them are all crowded around a table in the home ec room, eating their individual lunches (and oftentimes, each others').

"I didn't, I—" The answer dawns upon him, and he turns to glower at Peko. "Fucking... Peko, did you read the note?"

There's a slight pause. Peko's expression does not change. "Maybe."

Fuyuhiko rests his forehead in the palm of his hand. "I hate you so much sometimes."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that's Peko's suppressing a smile. "Your parents told me to look after you, and I—"

He looks up at her again. "Don't finish that sentence."

"I just need to make sure your boyfriend is a good person." She's smiling now, but only slightly, and it's obvious she's holding back a full-blown grin.

Fuyuhiko can feel his ears burn. "He is not my boyfriend."

Teru nods in agreement, which for him is rather subdued. "I mean, not that I would say no if he asked, but—"

"Teru." They've become close enough now to start using each others' first names, and Fuyuhiko find that "Teruteru" doesn't always roll off the tongue as easily as you'd think it would.

"Ah, I mean—! We're not dating; never will be," he says, right before holding out a rice ball for Fuyuhiko with his chopsticks. Instead of taking it with his hands or asking Teru to set it down on his napkin, Fuyuhiko leans forward and eats it right off the chopsticks.

Peko actually smirks. "You were saying?"

Fuyuhiko replies with a scowl and simple, "Shut up." Peko just shrugs and goes back to eating.

It isn't long before a knock on the door interrupts the silence. Hesitantly, the door creaks open, and a head of light brown hair peeks inside. "Oh, ah... Hello." Fujisaki seems to notice Peko's presence, and takes a careful step into the room. He's shaking slightly, and Fuyuhiko tries not to stare too much, since he's pretty sure the poor boy would melt into a puddle if he felt much more nervous. "Pekoyama-san told me I could eat here sometimes if I wanted to... And Mondo and Kiyotaka are busy today, so I thought...!" He takes a step backwards, holding his boxed lunch against his chest (which is odd, Fuyuhiko thinks, because nobody's even said anything).

Peko motions to the seat next to her. "You're free to join us."

Fujisaki's posture noticeably softens, and he scuttles over the chair, setting his lunch down in front of him. As he does this, he catches Fuyuhiko's eye, and recoils so quickly it makes Fuyuhiko flinch. He starts to say something, but it's hard to understand him when he's mumbling, and Fuyuhiko's distracted by the sudden thought that Fujisaki finds him intimidating. He tries to hide a smile under his hand, but it must show, because Fujisaki's expression relaxes. "What is it?" His brown eyes, already big and round, widen. It reminds Fuyuhiko of a deer—a little fawn, maybe—and that thought is kind of cute.

Wait, hold on for just a second. Is the thought cute, or Fujisaki? He gives the boy in front of him a quick once-over: sure, yeah, he's cute. There's really no denying that. He's smaller than Fuyuhiko (something that he considers a miracle), with wide eyes and a little nose. But that doesn't mean he's actually attracted to Fujisaki, right? Despite his feminine charm, Fujisaki is a boy, and Fuyuhiko has never thought of himself as being attracted to other boys.

(Okay. So maybe there was that crush on Hinata in first grade. But he was a stupid kid, and that doesn't count. And he's not even sure if that was really a crush anyways. It was probably just... admiration. For what, he's not sure.)

He realizes he hasn't responded to Fujisaki, and he blushes more than he should, turning his head to look away. "Nothing. I mean... Are you...," he risks a glance back in Fujisaki's direction, "scared of me?" Privately, he hopes the answer is yes.

"Not exactly," Fujisaki murmurs, busying himself by opening his lunch. It's surprisingly well put together. "You just... I-I thought you were glaring at me."

"That's just his face," Teru says without missing a beat. Fuyuhiko throws a hit at him, but it's not nearly hard enough to leave lasting damage. Nearby, Fujisaki giggles.

"He's not mean at all," Peko reassures him, a comment that makes Fuyuhiko grimace. "He likes to come off as cold, but he wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt you."

"I—Peko! I'm—" He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm scary as hell..."

Fujisaki smiles warmly. "Kind of like Mondo...," he hears him say under his breath.

Chapter Text

It's raining by the time school ends, something Fuyuhiko didn't know it was going to do; which is exactly why he ends up sharing an umbrella with Teruteru. It's Fuyuhiko's job to hold the umbrella, mostly because he's pretty sure Teru would have to hold his arm straight up in the air in order to hold it over Fuyuhiko's head (Teru frowns when he tells him this, but he doesn't object otherwise). The umbrella isn't small by any means, but the two of them still end up walking rather close to each other. The back of Fuyuhiko's hand brushes against Teru's, and Teru hardly hesitates before taking his hand; probably just to spite him, Fuyuhiko thinks. He doesn't pull away, because to pull away would be to show weakness; to say he can't handle a bit of physical contact. Instead, he gives Teru's hand a quick squeeze, hoping that counts as one-upping him.

"So, how far do we have to walk?" Fuyuhiko asks, and suddenly the sound of the rain hitting the umbrella sounds a lot quieter.

"Huh?" Teru shakes his head slightly, as if coming out a trance, before looking up at him.

Fuyuhiko scowls a little. "Listen when I speak to you."

Teru stares at his feet, and his face is out of Fuyuhiko's view. "Sorry, I was distracted." He sounds embarrassed, and his tone manages to stir up a bit of guilt within Fuyuhiko.

"It... it's fine. How far is your house from here?"

"Only a few blocks." He gives Fuyuhiko a look from out of the corner of his eye. "I thought that was kind of automatic. I mean, otherwise I wouldn't really be able to walk home from here." There's just the slightest pause, and then Teru is staring at the sidewalk again. "I mean, I'd still have to, but—" his posture stiffens a little, evidenced by his grip on Fuyuhiko's hand tightening, but it returns to normal with a slow, shaky exhale. "Never mind."

Fuyuhiko doesn't know how to respond to that, but he doesn't want to lose their conversation, so he presses further, despite Teru's behavior telling him that may not be a good idea. "Why's that?"

There's a hesitation, and for a second Fuyuhiko thinks Teru's not going to answer, but then he speaks, softly as he continues to watch raindrops hit the pavement. "Well, my mom's really busy with the family restaurant," Teru had mentioned the restaurant before, and even if he hadn't, it was common knowledge around the school, "and even then, she's not really in good health." There's a hesitation, but with the way Teru fidgets Fuyuhiko senses he really does wants to tell him the rest. "And my dad...," and there it is again, that unconscious squeeze on Fuyuhiko's hand, "he left." Teru says it with a definite tone of finality, and Fuyuhiko can tell that's as much as he's going to say.

"Oh," Fuyuhiko replies, mostly to show he was listening. Something about that statement doesn't quite match up, though; it takes him a moment to realize why it feels so off. "Do you have siblings or anything? With the way you were talking about it, you made it sound like there were a few people."

Teru seems to relax a little at the change in subject, and he speaks easily now. "I have three. All younger." Fuyuhiko makes a sound that he hopes portrays his pity, and Teru respond with, "Yeah, I know! I mean... I guess they're not that bad, though. Not all the time." He gives Fuyuhiko a grin. "Basically I'm saying they're not as bad as your sister."

Fuyuhiko isn't sure whether to be angry or to laugh and agree (because Natsumi's an awful brat, there's no denying that), so he settles on pouting and mumbling, "You're a dick," in a tone that suggests he's mostly joking. Teru grins in return, but he moves their interlocked hands to weave their fingers together, as if he's afraid of Fuyuhiko letting go.

It isn't long before Teru pulls the two of them off the side of the road and along a dirt path, telling Fuyuhiko that they're "almost there." Fuyuhiko is confused for a moment—from what Teru has told him about his past, Fuyuhiko would have pictured a modern, maybe a big extravagant house. What he gets is a more traditional, two-story home with a large canopy above the entrance. Below the canopy is an iron fence surrounding several sets of tables and chairs. So the bottom floor is the restaurant, huh? He's passed by this place a few times, he remembers suddenly, in the car around town.

He hardly has time to close the umbrella before a small girl in a yellow dress bolts out of the door and throws her arms around Teruteru's neck. Teru responds as if young girls throwing themselves on him is normal, and lifts her up so she can hug him comfortably. "Teruuuuu! You're home!" she squeals, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Your sister, I take it?" Fuyuhiko asks as he carries the girl inside. There's a few stray patrons inside, eating and chatting; and the familiar smell of Hanamura family cooking lingers in the air.

Teru nods, adjusting his grip on the tiny girl so she can get a good look at him. "Mimi, this is Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. Fuyuhiko, this is my sister, Mimi."

Mimi cowers a little at first, clinging to her brother's shirt, but when Fuyuhiko says hi, she smiles a little. "Teru talks about you a lot."

Fuyuhiko gives Teru a little smirk. "So I heard."

"And I mean a looooooot. I think he likes you or something. Like, like like." Fuyuhiko can see Teru turn red, but Mimi keeps talking. "I know 'cause there's a girl in my class I like like, and I talk about her like Teru talks about you."

"Is that so..." Fuyuhiko is giving Teru a look now, a look he hopes says, 'If you keep this up half of the planet will think we're dating, dumbfuck.'

Mimi smiles and nods. "Yeah, and he always—"

Teru sets her down mid-sentence, sounding flustered and desperate for a way out of this conversation. "Mimi, why don't you go see if Mom needs any help with bringing the customers their orders?"

There's a moment of silence, and then Mimi cries out, "Okay!" and happily runs away into the back, where the kitchen must be.

As soon as she's out of sight, Fuyuhiko finds himself looking for a way to avoid the obvious topic of discussion, and he's not entirely sure why. "She's full of energy, huh?" is what he finally decides on saying, and he wishes he had come up with something better.

"Well, yeah. She's only six years old," Teru says, as if that information is of utmost importance. It isn't long until the implication of his words dawns upon Fuyuhiko—if she's only six, then Teru's father left six years ago, at most.

"How old are you again?" he asks, and Teru seems to follow his train of thought.

"Seventeen." Fuyuhiko must have involuntarily lurched forward, because Hanamura flinches a little. "What?"

"When... when's your birthday?" Fuyuhiko stammers, fighting the urge to gouge his eyes out.

"September second...," Teru answers, clearly wondering where Fuyuhiko's train of though is going.

Fuyuhiko wants to scream. "You're almost a year older than me!?" it takes a lot of his willpower not to shout, not to let his voice echo off the walls of this little restaurant, but oh my god are you fucking kidding me.

Teru makes a face. "Is it really that important?"

"Yes," Fuyuhiko replies, but he can't really think of a reason why.

Teru just scoffs and drags Fuyuhiko towards the back of the restaurant as well. But instead of taking him into the kitchen, he pulls him up the stairs, where Fuyuhiko figures the rest of the house must be. As soon as they reach the top of the stairs, Teru makes a sharp turn and slams open the nearest door. The two people inside the room—a boy and a girl playing video games—do not react to this, which is at least slightly unnerving.

"I'm home!" Teru all but shouts at them.

"Hello," says the girl, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

"We figured you'd be home by now," the boy says, following her lead.

Teru gives Fuyuhiko a moment to see how frustrated he is by this, and then he goes back to addressing the boy and the girl. "I have a friend with me."

One of them (Fuyuhiko can't tell which) presses the pause button, and then they both turn at the same time to stare at him. They have fairly similar features and they look to be about the same age, so they must be twins.

"He's short," the boy says, his expression unchanging.

"What!?"

"And cute," the girl adds, her voice chillingly monotone.

"I am not—"

"Like a puppy."

"Or a fairy."

"Or a puppy the size of a fairy."

"Shut the fuck up!" Fuyuhiko yells, letting his anger get the better of him. For a second he's a little afraid Teru's going to be upset with him, but the twins' matching grins tell him they're more likely to be on the receiving end of Teruteru's wrath.

But Teru just sighs and introduces Fuyuhiko, which probably means this sort of behavior is completely typical. "This is Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. He's in my class. We're friends. Don't make fun of him, or pull any pranks on him." There's a bit of desperation in his voice when he says, "Please," like the two of them have ruined a few of Teru's friendships before.

The twins seem to ignore his request, and stand up to study Fuyuhiko. Surprisingly enough, they tower over their older brother, coming closer to Fuyuhiko's height. "Shiomi Hanamura; call me Shio," the girl says simply, before continuing on as if she hadn't said anything at all. "So you're the elusive friend."

"Kosho Hanamura," the boy almost echoes, giving Fuyuhiko a prolonged once-over. "We thought Teru might have made you up." There's a shadow of a smirk on his face. "But here you are."

Shio takes a step back, holding her hands up in defeat. "But it looks like we were wrong. That's not very fun at all."

Fuyuhiko finds himself shaking with anger. "Are they always like this?"

Teru presses his lips together, avoiding eye contact. "Ummm..."

Kosho looks straight at Teru. "Can we get back to our game? We're fighting the Shadow Sirens and we've only defeated one of them so far."

A sound comes out of Fuyuhiko's mouth that he hopes accurately depicts his frustration, and he throws himself out of the room with hesitation. "Abso-fucking-lutely!"

Teru follows him out, quietly shutting the door behind him. "Sorry about them."

"Yeah. Whose siblings are worse again?"

"I still stand by what I said."

"I can't believe you," he grumbles, crossing his arms and turning away from Teru.

"Look, I know they can be frustrating, but they just have trouble interacting with other people. They're like best friends, and I think it's mostly because they're the only ones who can tolerate each other."

Fuyuhiko's shoulders are up near his ears, and he hisses his words at Teru. "I'm the only one who can tolerate you. Does that make me your best friend?"

He didn't really mean it, but when Teru mutters, "Yeah, pretty much," Fuyuhiko suddenly feels really guilty.

But before he can reply, a soft, "Ah, hello," interrupts them. A mere glance tells Fuyuhiko that Teruteru really takes after his mother. She's standing in the doorway at the top of the stairs, wearing an apron with a few sauce stains on it over her skirt and blouse. "You must be Fuyuhiko. Teru told you you might be stopping by, yes he did."

Teru looks a bit alarmed to see her, and he rushes over to her so fast that he's nearly a blur. "Mom, you're supposed to be downstairs! Is something wrong?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine. I just needed to pick up a list for some catering work. It's a large order, yes it is. From the Togami family, so it's very good pay."

Teru looks like he's about to faint. "I could have done that for you!"

"I'm perfectly fine, Teru."

"Mooooooom," Teru whines, in a way that implies she's really not. Inspecting her closely, she looks to be a bit frail, and she's sweating slightly and breathing deeply. Is she really that winded from climbing up stairs?

"I was hoping to meet your friend," she tells him, glancing at Fuyuhiko. "From what you've told me he seems like a nice boy." Something in her smile changes, and she adds, "Could make a nice husband, too; yes he could."

Teru turns red as a tomato, and he buries his face in his hands. "Oh my god, Mom." He looks up at Fuyuhiko with the most embarrassed expression the latter has ever seen. "Fuyuhiko, I...—I'm so sorry, she just—"

Fuyuhiko, despite the fizzy feeling building up in his stomach again, shrugs it off. "It's fine. I think I'm used to it."

This seems to please Teru's mom. "Ah, so you're often mistaken for a couple?"

The two of them share a look. "Sort of?" Teru starts.

"They're not serious."

"At least, we don't think they a—"

"Peko and Natsumi are not being serious, and if they are they're going to get a piece of my mind."

This earns a chuckle from Teru's mom. "A very forward boy. I like that."

Chapter Text

The sun has already set, and the color is just starting to fade out  of the sky when Fuyuhiko leads Teruteru down the steps of his porch and towards the narrow street, "It's right over there," he says, pointing to the field on the other side, surrounded by a chain-link fence. He does a quick check for cars before rushing to the other end of the street, motioning for Teru to follow him (and he does, albeit hesitantly).

"Are you sure we're allowed to be over here?" Teru whimpers as he takes his first step onto the dying grass.  He's warily eying the "DO NOT ENTER" sign with bright red lettering, Fuyuhiko notices, his expression alternating between worry and feigned annoyance.

Fuyuhiko shrugs it off. "I do this all the time. No one is around to keep people out, and my parents don't care, so..." He sees that Teru still looks apprehensive, so he changes his tone of voice slightly. He sounds more serious now, or at least he hopes he does. "Hey. Breaking a stupid rule no one cares about isn't a big deal."

Teru winces a little. "But my mom always said—"

"You know, I'm starting to think your mom says a lot of things."

Teru glares at him, but doesn't object. "Fine. Have it your way." He's doing that little pouty thing again, the thing that makes him look kind of cute. (Not that Fuyuhiko personally thinks he's cute. It's more like common knowledge. Teru is cute; that's a fact he can't change.)

Fuyuhiko gives the fence a quick once-over, from top to bottom. Really, it's two fences; connected by a big, metal lock and chains. "You ever climbed a fence before?"

Teru's anxious gaze travels from the top of the fence to his own body. "I... don't think the fence would survive."

"That won't be an issue," Fuyuhiko tells him, finding a good spot for his foot near the bottom of the fence. He scales the fence within ten seconds and jumps over and off, landing on the other side. There's a metal pin attached to his collar (a gift from Natsumi); he takes it off and jams the needle into the lock connecting the fences. A jab, a twist; and the gate is unlocked. He pushes it open, and Teruteru scuttles in, looking embarrassed that Fuyuhiko would go through all that trouble for him.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" he asks quietly, eying the pin in Fuyuhiko's hands.

"I taught myself," Fuyuhiko replies (only because that sounds cooler than admitting he looked it up online), reattaching the pin to his collar. He decides to change the subject before Teru can pry any further. "That's my favorite spot; right there," he says, pointing to a tiny hill a small distance away.

"In front of the stream?"

"Yeah, there."

"But there's that weird tree—"

"What's wrong with it!?"

"It doesn't have any leaves!"

"So?"

"It looks creepy."

"Get over it. If you're so scared of the damn tree, then you can hold onto me."

Something tugs at the bottom of his shirt.

The bastard is toying with him, isn't he?

He fights back, taking Teru's hand and forcefully dragging him to the hill. He sits down in a huff, and after a second Teru follows his lead. "See? It's not that bad."

"I guess," Teru says, hugging himself. There's a pause, like he's thinking, and then, "I'm cold."

Fuyuhiko gives him a look, his best don't-fuck-with-me-right-now look. "You're wearing a sweater."

He is in fact wearing a sweater, a thick one that appears to be hand-knit. Fuyuhiko is almost certain his mom made it for him. "I'm still cold, though."

"Bullshit; I'm sure you have more body heat than me."

Teru frowns, but says nothing in return. It's quiet for a few moments, which is something that Fuyuhiko isn't used to when spending time with Teru. He doesn't like it, so he decides to bring up something he'd been meaning to talk about for a while. "What do you think about that new girl?"

This seems to get his attention. "Satou?" Fuyuhiko nods, and Teru thinks about it for a second, humming to himself. "She's attractive, in a plain sort of way."

"That's not what I was asking you at all."

Teru stares at him for a second, before his eyes light up in recognition and he starts grinning wildly (but there's a weird hesitation to it, Fuyuhiko notices, something he can't quite place). "Ahh, you're hung up on her, aren't you? Wanna make her your girl?"

Fuyuhiko wants to say he's surprised, but he really isn't. "What? No."

But it's much too late; Teruteru's already in full swing. "Fuyuhiko, why didn't you tell me sooner? I'd be more than willing to help you on your conquest." He wiggles his eyebrows as he says the last word, and Fuyuhiko pushes him down (as gently as he can) in return. "Oh, come now!" Teru says as he sits up straight again. "You know I'm an expert when it comes to love."

Fuyuhiko very nearly scoffs at this. "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Teru's expression falters. "None... well, what about you then?"

"I haven't had any either, but I've never wanted one."

"Why? Are you gay?" Teru asks almost instantly, and he sounds serious about it.

Fuyuhiko sputters, turning bright red. He can feel his brain desperately searching for an answer to that question, but he doesn't find one. "N... no," he finally decides on, and he assumes that's the truth. "I've just never really liked anyone like that before."

"Oh," Teru replies, pulling his knees to his chest. "Do you think you ever could fall in love with someone?"

"I dunno; probably. I guess... I'd just have to get to know them first. I'm not gonna date someone I hardly know."

There's a pause, and then Teru speaks. "What if someone confessed to you? What would you do then?"

"I guess it would depend on who it is."

"So, then... if you're friends with them, you'd accept?"

"Maybe, I mean—I never said that!" He's starting to get flustered talking about this, so he glares hard at Teru. "Why do you care, anyways?"

"Um, I well...!" Teru hesitates a bit before saying, "You're my only friend, so I want to make sure you're happy."

"I'm perfectly happy right now," Fuyuhiko mutters, falling on his back to stare up at the sky. It's dark now, and the first few stars are twinkling to life in the big, black void.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" Teru asks, laying down next to Fuyuhiko.

"Sure, what's up?"

"It's serious," Teru tells him, sounding a little frustrated.

Fuyuhiko rolls over, propping himself up on his elbows to look at him. "What is it?"

Teru does the same, but he avoids eye contact. "I, ah... Well, it's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while. And I just thought that it would make sense telling you know, because—"

"Just tell me."

"I'm not ready yet!"

"If you're not ready, then why the fuck are you trying to tell me?"

Teru fidgets for a moment, wringing his hands together before pulling a familiar comb out of his pocket. "Because... I-I feel really close to you." He runs the comb through his hair, but Fuyuhiko can see his hands shaking. "And I feel like... like this is something that you should know. I don't think I should keep it a secret anymore."

In the back of Fuyuhiko's head, something clicks for a second; but then it's gone and he's even more confused than before. He feels himself shiver. Maybe Teru was right. It is pretty cold out. "What is it?" he says, and he wonders why he can barely force words out of his throat.

For a few moments, Teru is not silent, but he's certainly not getting anywhere with the way he's tripping over his words. "I, well, uh... You see, I just... I really... um...!"

"Just spit it out already!" (And he's such a hypocrite, he thinks, when he can hardly force the words out himself.)

"I-I'm not really from the city!"

Fuyuhiko has no idea what he was expecting, but those words come completely out of left field for him. It's not that he didn't suspect it, it's just that he didn't think Teru would bring it up now. (Part of him feels like there's something else he wanted Teru to bring up. Something that seems so obvious, yet something that he can't remember.) "What...?"

"I'm—I'm so sorry," he stammers, glancing around as if looking for a way out of the conversation. "I mean, I let you see past so much, I-I really should have trusted you, but I just—I've been pretending for so long, it's like I forgot how to—"

Fuyuhiko wants to be angry. He wants to be furious. He feels like he should be. But since when has he cared about Teru being from the city? He never thought any of it whenever it was brought up before, so why should he think anything of it now? "It's fine," he tells him. "I mean... that doesn't really change anything, does it?"

"What do you mean...?"

"It's not like I really care about that. You're still... you, right? You're still the same talkative, dramatic, perverted guy you were before, right? So... it doesn't really make a difference to me."

Teru is silent before he mumbles something in an accent Fuyuhiko didn't know he had. "Ah... thas' good... I-I thought tha'... tha' maybe y'd..."

"Leave?" Fuyuhiko finishes, and it's now that he realizes how much he doesn't want things to change. He meant it when he said he was happy like this. "I... I couldn't do that, dumbass. Who knows how you'd survive without me?"

Teru doesn't reply to this, sitting up to hug his knees to his chest again. It doesn't take a genius to see that he's not convinced.

Fuyuhiko pulls himself up to his knees, moving closer to Teru before he has the chance to change his mind. He grabs Teru's shoulder, pulling him in his direction. "Just... come here, you moron." He wraps his arms around Teru's neck before he remembers that he has no idea what he's doing. The last person he hugged was Peko, and that was probably when they were in elementary school. Regardless, Teru doesn't seem to mind, since he buries his face in Fuyuhiko's shoulder and stays firmly put, his arms around Fuyuhiko's waist.

"Thank you," the cook mutters into his shoulder. "Thank you for staying, even when I can't go through with anything..."

Fuyuhiko won't realize what he means until much later.

Chapter Text

Fuyuhiko's favorite mafia movie is playing on the TV in front of him, but it's hard to pay attention with Teruteru sitting next to him on the bed. It's weird to think that just two hours ago they were actually hugging. Fuyuhiko isn't accustomed to psychical contact, and with how few friends Teru has, he must not be, either. And yet there they had been, clutching at the back of each other's shirts. He can only imagine what his sister would say: something about how hugging is such a normal thing for friends to do; but it feels like such a big step for Fuyuhiko. He wonders if it's because of the earlier conversation, or perhaps because of his own standoffishness.

He didn't really plan to have Teru spend the night; it just turned out that way. By the time they went back inside, it was too dark for Teru to walk down himself, and from what Fuyuhiko has seen of his mom, he doesn't think she's in the proper condition to drive (at least not after dark). So while Fuyuhiko is in his own pajamas, Teru's wearing a t-shirt (one that's much too big on Fuyuhiko; it was a hand-me-down from his father) and the purple flower-print boxer shorts he was already wearing. He seems to be taking interest in the movie, which is good. Fuyuhiko thought he might find it unnecessarily violent.

"That actor is cute," Teru says suddenly, and Fuyuhiko realizes why he's been paying attention so much.

"You're supposed to be focusing on the story, not how attractive the actors are," he tells him, but he knows it's hopeless. No matter what, Teru always seems more concerned about cute girls (or boys, as the case may be) than the situation at hand. This doesn't seem to be an exception.

"Ah, so you don't deny he's attractive?"

Fuyuhiko's stomach turns. "I didn't say that."

When he looks at Teru, he's frowning at him. "Ah, that's right. You're straight, huh? At least... that is what you told me earlier, isn't it?"

"I... I guess," Fuyuhiko mutters, and he wishes he could be more sure of himself. It's not like he's ever thought about this. He's gone through his life flat-out ignoring the idea of romance, but it's nearly impossible to do that with Teruteru around. "I mean... all I really said is that I'm not gay," and even then I'm not sure about that.

Teru stares at him with an odd sort of intensity, as if he's studying him. "So... you're bisexual? Or maybe pansexual?"

"I don't know!" Fuyuhiko cries, his ears burning. "I've never thought about it before!"

"...Never?"

"Never." The expression on Teru's face tells Fuyuhiko that the little perv didn't think something like that was possible. "I've always avoided people," he says with a shrug. "I just got used to a lack of human contact, I guess. I didn't have any friends, and I didn't really care about making any, so it's not like I've ever had the opportunity to experiment or anything, and I don't even know of I'd want—"

For some reason, Teru sitting up on his knees, looking at Fuyuhiko with bright eyes. "Do you want to try?" He leans forward, and suddenly the two of them are a little too close for comfort.

Fuyuhiko leans back, his hands landing on the bedsheets behind them. That stupid fucking fizzy feeling is taking over his entire body now, and he grips the bedsheets, hoping it'll calm him. It just makes it worse. "Try... try what?" His throat feels dry, but he isn't thirsty.

Teru doesn't back down, though. He leans forward again, his hands landing on the bed, so that he's on all fours. "Experimenting, of course. Like I said, I'm a master when it comes to love."

"You said you were an expert," Fuyuhiko mumbles, trying his best to avoid his friend's piercing gaze. "Besides, you already said you've never had any girlfriends, so that can't be true."

"What if I've had a boyfriend before?"

"We both know that's a goddamn lie."

Teru pouts, making Fuyuhiko try his hardest to stop his face from flushing. "Then we're just, ah...," he searches his mind for the right phrase, "killing two birds with one stone, right? I can have my first kiss, and you can find out whether or not you're interested in men."

"I don't need to know that," Fuyuhiko says, even though he knows it's a lie.

Teru leans back a bit, looking disappointed (although Fuyuhiko guesses he's just messing around). "So... that's a no?"

"I don't know," Fuyuhiko mumbles, his head pounding. "It could be... good practice," he says, and he wonders if he's just making excuses, because since when has he ever wanted kissing practice? But if that's true, since when has he ever wanted to kiss Teru?

...He doesn't want to kiss Teru, right?

"Yeah," Teru replies, holding his ground as he stares Fuyuhiko down. "Good practice. So we should kiss. You know," he leans in again and oh fuck Fuyuhiko can feel Teru's breath on his lips and it's all kinds of confusing and warm and wonderful, "for practice."

"And to find out what the fuck it is I'm into," Fuyuhiko wants to say, but he's very busy tilting his head, closing his eyes, and pressing his lips against Teru's. As soon as he does, there's the slow, burning realization that he's shaking; and then that he can hear his own heartbeat. That fucked-up fizzy feeling is hitting him with full force, and it doesn't take long for Fuyuhiko to understand that it's the source of his shaking. Weakly, he puts a hand on Teru's shoulder and pulls him a little closer, simply because he wants to.

It isn't a sudden realization. It's not an epiphany, and it definitely doesn't hit him with the force of a speeding train. Instead, it slowly dawns on him, as if he's been solving a long, winding mystery piece by piece: he's in love.

In reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds. When Fuyuhiko pulls away, his question is definitely answered, but like fuck is he satisfied. Teruteru stares straight at him; blinks once, twice. "Did you, uh... figure it out?" he nearly whispers, but Fuyuhiko can hear him loud and clear.

Fuyuhiko reaches for the remote, and once it's in his hands, he pauses the movie. No distractions. "N-no, not yet," he stammers, and this time he knows it's an excuse. Unfortunately, he stopped caring about that as soon as they started kissing. "Maybe you should try again."

He's not sure who leaned in first, him or Teru, but it really doesn't matter so long as they're kissing again. He must be losing his mind, he thinks, as his arms find their way around Teru's waist. Teru responds by pulling on the collar of Fuyuhiko's shirt, and it seems he's made his way onto Fuyuhiko's lap without his noticing. He's clutching at the back of Teru's shirt again, and he can't tell if it's because he's nervous or excited. While the first kiss was soft and unsure, this one is much more confident. Teru's lips are firmly planted on his, and it doesn't look like he plans on letting go of his shirt collar anytime soon. But Fuyuhiko doesn't mind; he's just as desperately pressing their bodies together, momentarily forgetting that this has nothing to do with revenge.

Fuyuhiko doesn't care about revenge anymore. Not when Teruteru's tongue ends up in his mouth and he tastes just like his cooking, which is to say he tastes amazing. Even if he doesn't care about revenge any longer, Fuyuhiko know when he needs to fight back. Neither of them are experienced, so the kiss itself is a bit sloppy, but the heat of the battle more than makes up for it. Fuyuhiko's brain has probably stopped functioning at this point, because surely he wouldn't moan into Teru's mouth if he were actually thinking straight. He hardly cares that he's lost an unspoken contest, especially when the kiss is broken and he's gasping for air and there's drool on his chin and—

Oh fuck.

Did they really just—

Fucking hell; god dammit, shit.

This is not happening to him.

"Did... did you figure it out this time?" Teru asks between breaths, looking up at Fuyuhiko with an expectant look on his face. Fuyuhiko feels like he's been put on the spot.

"Uh, well, y-yeah," he replies, squirming out of Teru's grip as quickly and efficiently as he can manage. This isn't something he can lie about, he decides, so he just spits it out. "I like guys. Definitely. So you don't have to help me figure it out any more. I...," he pries Teru's hands off of his collar, "I've got this."

He doesn't have this at all. What does he know about being in love with someone? He must have felt this way for a while, he realizes, what with the head rushes and the god damn feeling in his stomach. If he's so out of touch with his feelings already, how can he expect to properly handle any of this? He'll just fuck it up, like he always does. There's no way he can do this.

"Oh," says Teruteru, with an expression that Fuyuhiko can't quite place. He thinks it lies somewhere between surprise and disappointment.

For a second, he wonders what would happen if Teru liked him back. Would he want that? He's never wanted to be with anyone before, and to suddenly realize he's already involved with someone like Teruteru Hanamura, someone who he thought was his friend and nothing more... He didn't even think he was attracted to guys. How is he supposed to deal with this? What the fuck is he supposed to do?

He decides to distract himself by turning off the TV. Behind him, he can hear Teru's voice, sounding proud of himself. It makes Fuyuhiko feel sick (he refuses to acknowledge that this sickness is just the fizzy feeling again). "You see? I told you I was an expert—"

"You said master," Fuyuhiko tells him, laying down to go to sleep.

(He doesn't sleep at all. He can't sleep with Teruteru's head resting against his shoulder.)

ACT I END

Chapter Text

This isn't happening. This cannot be happening. Of all the things to happen, this should be the last one to occur.

"You invited Teru?"

Peko looks at him from over her shoulder, pausing in the middle of brewing a pot of Earl Grey. She's preparing for a small get-together. Fuyuhiko was under the assumption that it would just be the two of them and Fujisaki, but apparently his assumption was wrong. "I thought you would have been happy about that."

Fuyuhiko's composure (already broken beyond repair) falters even more. He hasn't told Peko about what happened between him and Teruteru, and he doesn't plan to. He hasn't talked to Teru about it either, but he suspects it's been on his mind as much as it's been on Fuyuhiko's. But if he brought it up... Well, there's no reason to bring it up. It was just a test. They were experimenting; just a thing that stupid teenagers do. Fuyuhiko's willing to admit he does stupid things from time to time.

He isn't willing to admit the truth, though. He'll never admit that kissing Teru wasn't nearly as awful as he expected it to be; and there's absolutely no way in hell that he's going to admit he wants it to happen again. Because he doesn't. (He really does.)

Peko interprets his silence as unease (she's not far off) and turns her back to the teapot, staring Fuyuhiko down. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

She's right on the money, and Fuyuhiko can feel the tips of his ears burn. He can't let her find out about this; there's no reason to talk to her about a problem that doesn't exist. "No, nothing," he replies, as firmly as he can.

But Peko isn't so easy to convince. "Fuyuhiko. You aren't keeping secrets from me, are you?"

Fuyuhiko tries not to feel guilty, because yes, he is and he's never done so before. He's been friends with Peko for as long as he can remember. They've always done everything together, told each other all their secrets, and suddenly they just... haven't. That's the problem about making new friends, isn't it? You lose contact with your old ones. Peko isn't the only person in his life anymore, and he isn't the only person in hers. Just thinking about it is jarring. He... doesn't know anything about Peko anymore, does he?

And that raises the question: what's going on in Peko's life that he doesn't know about? Is there anything she's hiding from him?

He narrows his eyes at Peko, trying to make himself look just as intimidating as her (which is difficult when her eyes are piercing red and his are honey brown). "I don't know. Are you keeping secrets from me?"

Bullseye. Peko tenses under his stare, and the way she's avoiding his eyes is very telling. "I... Never mind. H-how is Natsumi doing?' she asks; a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"She's fine; she's been hanging out with Koizumi and that Satou chick, I think. But that's not fucking important. What the hell are you hiding from me?"

Peko takes a breath so deep, Fuyuhiko can see her chest heave. The she stands her ground, making direct eye contact with him. "I'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours."

And then Fuyuhiko hesitates, because just how important is this to him? Would it really be worth it; to tell Peko something that could ruin the way she looks at him, in exchange for a secret that might not even be all that significant? He stares at the floor, wiggling his socked toes as a way of distracting himself. What would Peko think? She was always bugging him about Teru, so maybe she'll be accepting of it. But there's a chance; a lingering chance she won't respond to Fuyuhiko's coming out in a positive way.

Fuck, is he coming out of the closet? Is that what this is? He didn't even know he was in a closet for most of his life. He's comfortable like this, he thinks; after all, he's lasted this long. Peko's stupid secret can't be worth something that's causing him as much grief as this.

He thinks that, but when he looks up at Peko again their eyes meet, and he can feel the distance between the two of them. He hates the fact that they're suddenly drifting apart, and he's smart enough to recognize that it's at least partly his fault. He hasn't been treating Peko as a close friend—he's been treating her the same way he treats everyone else. Not showing her how he feels, keeping her at arm's length, not telling her things that are actually pretty important—those are all things he does to the rest of their classmates.

But Peko isn't just another classmate. She's Fuyuhiko's friend, and she should know what's going on his life, just as he should know what's going on in hers.

"Fine. That sounds fair enough." He gives her a good, hard stare. "You go first," he demands, only to buy himself some time.

Peko blushes, which is something Fuyuhiko doesn't think he's ever seen her do before. "Well, you see... Chihiro and I—" Fuyuhiko ends up blocking out the rest of that sentence, because since when does Peko call Fujisaki "Chihiro"?

"Wait, fuck... What did you just say?"

He expects Peko to look at least a little exasperated, but she just blushes more. "Chihiro and I are dating."

Fuyuhiko has remarked on the differences between him and Peko many times before. He's even gone as far as considering the two of them polar opposites. So it's only now that he realizes just how alike they are, and what ironic situations emerge from that.

...Or, at least, he'll realize that once he calms down.

"Since when!?"

"A-about a week ago..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure what you would think..."

Fuyuhiko groans, burying his face in his hands. A few feet away, he can hear Peko's breath hitch. "I can see you're not taking it well."

He tears his hands away from his face, giving Peko what he hopes is a a sincere look. "No, Peko, it's not that. If you're dating Fujisaki, it's fine. I'm cool with it. I'm just...," he leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, "I'm just mad at myself for making you feel like you couldn't tell me about it."

"Fuyuhiko, that's not—"

"It's fine. You...," he heaves out a sigh. He can't say this wasn't worth it, but it's still going to be embarrassing as fuck. "You wanted to know what happened between me and Teru, right?"

Peko nods, her red eyes training in on Fuyuhiko. No way out.

"I—well, we...," the words are caught in his throat, and he feels like he has to cough them out. And he does. For Peko. "We kissed. Teru and I."

Peko stares at him for a moment longer, completely unfettered by this news. "I didn't know you were gay, Fuyuhiko," is what she says after a minute's pause.

"I'm not."

"Bisexual, then."

"I'm not that, either!"

Peko gives him a look; a do you really expect me to buy that look. "Then why did you—"

"We were just experimenting," Fuyuhiko tells her quickly, hoping to dismiss the issue entirely. "It was really nothing."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's embarrassing," Fuyuhiko spits out, feeling the words burn like acid against his lips. "We haven't talked about it. And I was a total dumbass about it, so now he probably thinks I'm into him." He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing them with the heels of his palms until he sees stardust.

Peko is quiet for a few moments, and when Fuyuhiko opens his eyes, he sees that she's gone back to preparing the tea. She pours a cup of Earl Grey and watches the steam rise to the ceiling. "And you're not?"

"I—I just said I wasn't—"

Peko turns on her heel, and the look she gives Fuyuhiko is nothing short of terrifying. "Then why did you do it?" She brings the teacup, clutched tightly to her person, to Fuyuhiko; setting it in front of him with a sharp, deafening clunk. He stares up at her, only vaguely realizing he's gone slack-jawed. He presses his lips together; one last attempt to not look like a total ass. But Peko keeps on looking them with that kind of deadly glare, and he knows he's failed. "Your whole life, you've done nothing but push other people away. You've always found distaste at the very idea of romance, and now you expect me to think that you kissing someone isn't a big deal."

Well, when she puts it like that...

The doorbell chimes throughout the Pekoyama household, and it continues to ring in Fuyuhiko's ears long after Peko leaves the room.

Chapter Text

It used to bother him; how touchy-feely Teruteru was with people. It still does, but back then he didn't know why it bothered him. He figured it was just some kind of disgust, or that he thought Teru was stupid for trying even when he knows people aren't interested, or that he didn't like the way that Teru would blatantly ignore him (his friend) in order to talk to someone who happens to strike his fancy.

(Or maybe it bothered him that Teruteru refused to break his own walls down, and kept up this ridiculous little playboy persona until Fuyuhiko wanted to punch him in the face. Because Teru is nearly a completely different person without other people around, and Fuyuhiko wishes they could see that side of him, instead of thinking he's some kind of disgusting pig. They're all a bunch of idiots.)

But now that he knows the real reason; now that he knows he likes Teruteru... He'd be lying if he said that doesn't frustrate him more than ever. So now that Teru's sitting there batting his eyes at Tsumiki ("I think you're suffering from a lack of vitamin me"), Fuyuhiko can't help but grind his teeth. He knows that he's into him, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it.

Or maybe he's just jealous. Same thing.

Tsumiki stammers, shifting in her seat and tugging at the sleeves of her uniform. "A-actually, I plan my meals very carefully, to m-make sure I get sufficient nutrients from all of the major f-food groups... So I don't think I'm lacking any sort of vitamin... E-especially...," she swallows, and Fuyuhiko thinks the sound she makes when she does it is kind of gross, "that one."

Teru clicks his tongue, pretending to be dissatisfied with her way of worming around his advances (even though Fuyuhiko knows he doesn't really care, other than maybe being a little hurt by her distaste; but Fuyuhiko really can't blame her). "I'm just saying, if you ever wanted to hook up—"

Fuyuhiko feels fire in the pit of his stomach—rage. It takes him a second to realize Teru has stopped talking, and a second longer to realize why.

"Lay off, Hanamura. She doesn't want to hear it." He expects the voice to come from Koizumi, or maybe even Owari, but instead he turns to find Satou leaning down into Teruteru's face. Koizumi is standing a few feet away, looking like she was about to say something before Satou intervened.

Koizumi tries her hardest to take it in stride though, continuing where she would have began. "Yeah! Mikan-chan didn't ask for you to—"

"Well?" Satou presses, leaning down into Teru's face. "Where's your apology?" She was ready to cut Koizumi off, Fuyuhiko notices, and he wonders what that's supposed to imply.

Teru sputters (clearly this kind of physical proximity is still foreign to him), but he manages to spit out a reply more easily than expected. "I-I'm terribly sorry, Satou-san. If there's any way I can repay you, just let me know..."

They all gain something from this experience: Tsumiki gets a homemade lemon bar from Koizumi as an apology; Koizumi develops a headache; Teru is gifted with a vaguely hand-shaped red mark on his face; Satou earns a detention slip; and Fuyuhiko acquires a special distaste for Yurika Satou.

It isn't even justified, he thinks to himself. Satou wasn't even interested in Teru's advances. She slapped him when he tried. She isn't a threat, so why should he even care? Threat. When he words it so seriously, it makes him feel stupid and obsessed. He can't be obsessed with Teru, even if he likes him. Teru is still stupid and obnoxious and a horrible candidate for a boyfriend, regardless of whether or not he's Fuyuhiko's friend. Satou clearly knows this, and Fuyuhiko wishes he was like her; wishes he was in his right mind for once. But at the same time, he can't help but wish he was the one with Teru's face inches away from his. It's such a horrible, awful thing to want, especially when it comes completely out of left field.

And Teruteru isn't making things any easier for him—he hasn't made a move on him in over a week. Fuyuhiko thought that was a good thing, but he soon realized that when you're deprived of something you want, you feel the need to obtain it yourself; and there's no way he's going to be the one to make the first move. Not after what happened.

Is that why Teru isn't doing anything? Is that why he's acting different? Is he afraid anything he does can be misinterpreted, or is he afraid to make the first move?

...Does he like Fuyuhiko back?

Fuyuhiko has to tell himself that it's not important, and that he needs to get over this ridiculous crush as soon as possible. Hoping will only make it worse.

Still, he holds his breath when Natsumi walks by his room that Saturday afternoon. He's distracted for just a moment, until he hears the TV screen go crash and Fujisaki quietly cheer to himself. "Yes!" Fuyuhiko looks back to the screen, just in time to see the words "GAME SET" flash across the screen.

"And you said only first-timers use Kirby," Peko mutters, taking the controller when Fujisaki hands it to her.

"He used hacks," Fuyuhiko grumbles, and Fujisaki laughs, because they both know that's not true. He turns around to hand his controller to Teru, only to find that he isn't there. "The fuck did he—" Fuyuhiko starts, but when he turns he finds his worries have come true.

Teru is in the hall, conversing with an rather closed-off Natsumi (is he just an immediate turn-off for everyone involved?). Fuyuhiko holds in a groan, and it comes out sounding like a growl. Beside him, Fujisaki looks over, concerned. "Teruteru!" he shouts out, hardly caring that he's disturbing the peace. "Stop trying to bone my sister and get in here! It's your turn!"

He turns towards Fuyuhiko, scowls, and turns back to say something quick to Natsumi before returning to Fuyuhiko's room. He yanks the controller out on Fuyuhiko's hands, mumbling something about, "...can't have one, at least let me try for the other..."

Fuyuhiko's stomach lurches, and he finds himself subdued for the rest of the afternoon. Teru hardly says a word to him in return.

It isn't until ten minutes after Teru has left that any mention is made of it. After Peko leaves the room to gather her things, Fujisaki clears his throat. It's so clear that's there's no doubt he faked it; if he had really needed to, his voice would have caught in his throat a little more. No, Fujisaki wants to talk, and Fuyuhiko gives him his attention. "Is something going on between you and Hanamura-kun? It seems like you're not getting along well..."

Fuyuhiko cringes. This really isn't something he wants to explain to Fujisaki.

Fujisaki, upon seeing his reaction, immediately recoils. "You don't have to tell me! ...Especially if it's a sensitive subject. I... I understand." He takes a breath, anxiously tugging at a piece of his hair. "I was just worried about the two of you, and I was wondering... if there's anything I can do to help."

You can fuck off, is what Fuyuhiko would say on instinct, but he doesn't, because Fujisaki is a friend (can he call Fujisaki that?) and he's done nothing to deserve that. Fuyuhiko stays quiet for a second, sorting out his words before he speaks. "There's really nothing you can do about it. He's just been doing things I don't like him doing and I'm getting all pissed off about it when I really shouldn't." Once he starts talking, it's hard to stop, and he ends up feeling embarrassed for letting his feelings slip out.

Fujisaki is quiet for a second and Fuyuhiko assumes he isn't going to respond, until he actually looks at his face. Fujisaki is staring at his hands in his lap; his honey eyes narrowed and his mouth scrunched up to one side. He's thinking. "Well...," he says at last, "if it's bothering you so much, why don't you talk to him about it?"

"It would be awkward. It...," he struggles for the right words, but finds none, "it's complicated."

Fujisaki hesitates this time, but it looks like he has something he wants to say. "If you have something to say, say it. I don't bite."

"I was just thinking... if you never say anything to him, nothing's going to change."

Fuyuhiko's head hurts. "I don't want things to change." He clenches his fists, trying to calm himself. "Everything's fine the way it is."

"But... you want to be his friend, don't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Like I said... it doesn't seem like you're getting along right now..."

Fuyuhiko stares at his fingertips, finding the reddened areas where hangnails used to be. "Something happened, and now... I think he wants things to change, and I do too, but... things were fine before. There's no reason it needs to change!"

Fujisaki looks him straight in the eyes this time. "Are you afraid of things changing?"

"No!" he cries out on instinct, but he doesn't think it's true. "I told you, everything is fucking fine—"

"Fuyuhiko."

Fuyuhiko's words catch in his throat. Peko is standing in the open doorway, staring at him with a cautious, but threatening gaze. She examines the situation, before turning to Fujisaki to confirm that he's alright. Fujisaki smiles and nods in response, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. As he starts to leave, Fuyuhiko calls out to him.

(And it's absolutely grating, he thinks, how he can't control himself anymore. What he says, his actions, his emotions... he hates it hates ithatesit)

"Hey, Fujisaki—"

Peko's already out of the room, but Fujisaki's still in the doorway, and he turns around to give Fuyuhiko a grin. "If things can work out between Peko and I, I'm sure things will work out for you too."

Fuyuhiko doesn't put two and two together until after Fujisaki has left the house.

Chapter Text

A month ago, Fuyuhiko's tongue was in someone else's mouth. Now, it's firmly trapped in his own mouth, pushing against the back of his teeth as he mulls the situation over.

Nothing has changed. His feelings for Teru are the same as ever, even after a month of trying to talk himself out of it. Every time Teru is around, he can't help but relive their little... get-together in his mind; over and over, until someone snaps him out of it, and he feels himself turn red. He won't put up with it any more.

That's why, instead of joining the others in the home ec room, he finds himself holed up in an empty classroom on the school's second floor. At this point, it seems like the only way to ensure that Teru doesn't get to him is to avoid him entirely. It won't be fun, and he's sure Peko will scold him to hell and back once she figures out what he's doing, but it won't be permanent. As soon as his feelings subside, he'll go back to spending time with his friend, and it'll be like nothing ever happened. He just needs to be patient, and hope the he doesn't manage to hurt Teruteru in the process (because it seems like he's great at doing that).

The classroom door edges open, drawing Fuyuhiko's eyes to it. He straightens himself, preparing an excuse on the off-chance that it's Teru ("I just remembered, I left my lunch at home, and I need to pick it up from the office..."). But it's all for naught, and he slumps into his seat when he sees Natsumi poke her head through the door. She catches sight of him and makes a beeline towards the desk he's sitting in. "Thank god," she says, plopping into the seat to his left. "Someone I can actually tolerate today."

Fuyuhiko scowls, watching at Natsumi unpacks her lunch from a bag shaped like a cat's head. "How did you find me?"

"I asked Peko. She said you might be here." She pauses in her unpacking to give him a look. "Why are you here?"

He gives her a look right back, one that he hopes will scare her off. But Natsumi holds her gaze, and Fuyuhiko wants to strangle her for it. "Is that really any of your business?" He almost smirks, because he knows that Natsumi hates it when people answer questions with questions.

Her reaction is hardly amusing, though. "Shut the fuck up," she tells him roughly, gripping her box of fruit punch in two hands, "and answer my question."

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch!" he shouts back, and he knows he's asking for a fight, but she started it.

Swiftly, Natsumi rises from her seat, and the sound her chair makes as it clatters to the floor is near-startling. "I'm your sister!" she cries out, but whatever argument she was going to make ends there. She stuffs her juice box back into her bag, followed by the rest of her lunch.

"Are you leaving?" Fuyuhiko asks. It's a stupid question, but he asks it anyways. Of course she's leaving. She's probably realizing that it was a stupid idea to come here in the first place. He and Natsumi haven't gotten along in years, and for her to suddenly show up and demand what's going on in his life... It's a ridiculous idea; it's completely ludicrous; it's—

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck, Peko was right. He's been spending his whole life pushing people away for no goddamn reason. Natsumi hasn't done anything to deserve this (other than generally being a bitch, but that might sort of be his own fault); Fuyuhiko has just been blindly shutting her out. And here she comes, trying to make amends, trying to show interest in him, and he just...

"Hey, Natsumi—" he starts, just as she slams the door.

/ / /

Teru doesn't catch him before fifth period, but Peko does. She grabs him by the arm before he can get through the door, and pulls him to the edge of the large wall of lockers—the only quiet spot in an otherwise crowded hallway. "What are you doing?" she asks, her tone hushed and much too serious for Fuyuhiko's liking.

He decides playing dumb is the most prudent option. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"You didn't come to lunch today."

"I was busy. I had work to do."

Peko shoots him a look. "Did you." It's hardly a question; of course she knows he didn't. She's Peko. Even if Teru's the one he's fallen for, Peko still knows him best.

"Look, if you could just help keep Teruteru away from me for while, I'd really appreciate it..."

Peko's voice darkens. "Keep him away from you? Fuyuhiko—"

"I just need some time away from him, okay? But I don't want to make him upset. I've already done that enough fucking times."

She starts to speak, but seems to think better of it, closing her mouth shut and loosening her posture. "He's been looking for you."

Fuyuhiko's pulse quickens. He feels the fizzy feeling rush over him, and when it's gone he feels strangely light despite the weight on his shoulders. "Really? Fuck."

Peko's avoiding his eyes now, as if she feels awkward playing the messenger, but she does spare him a glance or two. "He needs to talk to you about something."

"About what?"

Peko closes her eyes; her way of keeping herself composed. "I don't know. He didn't tell me. He just said it was important."

Fuyuhiko doesn't respond to that—he doesn't know how—but there's a hopeful feeling rising from the pit of his stomach to the back of his chest. "Tell him he can fu—"

"Tell him yourself," Peko replies, already halfway to the classroom; and it feels like a slap to the face.

/ / /

It must be just his rotten luck that the time he tries to avoid Teruteru is the time Teruteru needs to see him the most. He's had three, maybe four close calls today, and it's hardly even noon. And it's not like Peko's been of any help, either. For all of her nagging at Fuyuhiko to stop pushing others away, it doesn't seem like she's made any effort to get closer to him again. Avoiding Teru has been a struggle, and all because she can't get it in her head to help out a little.

It's like she doesn't realize how important this is, and how much it effects him. All she cares about is herself. Just a few months ago, he was at Fuyuhiko's beck and call. What happened? Does she just not care anymore? Does Fujisaki mean more to her than him? They've been friends for years; she has no right to be so selfish.

It's been weeks since he's allowed himself to think this much, he realizes; shutting his locker with a heavy thunk. Maybe it's because he's been so caught up in the situation that he's been acting on impulse instead of actually thinking things through. That's what he decides, at least.

(But he knows it isn't really that. He's been distracting himself; doing everything he can so that he won't have a moment to think about how he really feels. He doesn't want to be doing this, but it's necessary if he wants to be normal again.)

Teru has never been "normal," and Fuyuhiko respects that. He doesn't have a problem with it (Teru is his friend, after all), it's just that he doesn't want to be that way. Just because he's Teurteru's friend doesn't mean they have to be exactly alike; Fuyuhiko would sooner be caught dead than be seen asking a girl for her number. ...Or a guy, for that matter.

He heaves open the door of an empty classroom, being careful not to push too hard. His shoulders have been hurting lately. He thinks it might be because he's so worn out; he hasn't been able to sleep properly since that time. The door shuts behind him, and he makes his way to an empty seat in the back of the room. He sits down, and as he pulls his lunch out of his bag, his mind wanders elsewhere.

There are other people in their class who aren't "normal," either: Hinata and Komaeda, for example. In a regular sense, Hinata's about as plain as it gets; but he has a boyfriend, so apparently that all gets thrown out the window. Komaeda, on the other hand, is pretty weird either way; so it doesn't even really matter that he's dating Hinata.

But Fuyuhiko doesn't want to be like them. He doesn't want people giving him weird stares in the hallway, or calling him names that make his hair stand on end. He doesn't want to lock himself in his room because his parents won't accept him, or spend the night crying into his pillow because they tried to force him to change. He's better than that.

No, he can change himself.

(But he does want to spend time with Teruteru, cuddling and kissing and doing stupid couple stuff. The temptation is there, but he has to get over it.)

Maybe if he hadn't been caught up in his own thoughts, he would have heard the footsteps approaching the empty classroom. Maybe if he had been paying attention, he would have had time to hide or leave or just get away before it was too late. But he doesn't. So he's completely and utterly unprepared when the door slithers open, and Teruteru pokes his head inside.

Fuyuhiko stands almost instantly, trying to shove the rest of his food back into the flimsy paper bag it came in. In his rush, the bottom of the bag gives out, and everything in it spills onto the floor. "Fuck," he says under his breath, just before Teru rushes over to help. He recoils, and quickly comes to regret the first words that come out of his mouth: "Go away."

Teru stares right at him, with what may qualify for the most hurt expression Fuyuhiko has ever seen. After a moment of silence, Teru presses his lips together, scowling at the food scattered on the floor. "No. You need my help with this."

"I don't need your help."

Teru reaches out and grabs an apple, before thrusting it in Fuyuhiko's direction. "Alright, fine," he mutters, his voice tense. "You don't need my help. I can see that. But I...," he hesitates, his fingers lingering on a juice box a foot in front of him. "I need to talk to you. It's important."

Fuyuhiko's emotions betray him, and his face turns red. This can't possibly be what it sounds like. "So I've heard. Can it wait?"

The juice box goes from Teru's hands to Fuyuhiko's, and suddenly the two of them are much closer than Fuyuhiko would like for them to be. "I've waited for long enough."

Fuyuhiko picks the last thing up off of the floor—a plastic bag half-filled with crackers—and stuffs it into his backpack. From there, he hoists the bag over his shoulder, standing to leave. "Well, I'm kind of busy, so—"

"Have you been avoiding me?" It's just a blunt question, in a worried, yet demanding tone of voice, that it makes Fuyuhiko stop dead in his tracks. He's going to regret this; he's going to regret everything now.

"That's...," he starts, looking for a way out. "I just need some time to myself. That's all."

Behind him, he can hear Teru's footsteps, moving closer. "Is something wrong?"

Fuyuhiko stands his ground, but does not—cannot—look at him. "No. Nothing," he tells him, as he has to force the words out of his mouth. He doesn't want to do this, he realizes; he doesn't want to keep on lying like this.

"Then can you just... listen to me? Just for a little while?"

Fuyuhiko grips the straps of his bag and tries to say no. What comes out of his mouth instead is, "Alright, fine."

Teru is quiet for a second, before he requests, softly, for Fuyuhiko to turn around. Fuyuhiko thinks about resisting, but decides that at this point he might as well just fuck it, and turns around anyways.

"I, ah...," Teruteru hesitates, but then he takes a breath and speaks in length. "I know I've said this before, but before you came around, I really didn't have anyone. Everyone just saw me as a nuisance, and I guess after some time I... I realized why they avoided me, but I kept on acting that way, because it was the only way I knew how to act to get attention... S-so... you being around has really meant a lot to me, and...

"If you're thinking of leaving, I can understand that. I'm honestly surprised you've put up with me for this long, and you d-deserve to be happy if you really hate being around me that much. But... I just... I just wanted you to know that..."

Teruteru has been staring at the floor the entire time, but he looks right in his eyes as he says the words Fuyuhiko has been both dreading and hoping to hear.

"I love you."

Chapter Text

Fuyuhiko stares at the red semi-circle at the top of his paper, and it stares right back. D+, it reads, and Fuyuhiko is left to wonder how this day could get any worse.

He tries to be sneaky about glancing at Teru, but it's not like it matters anyways. There's no way Teruteru would even want to look at him right now. Not after what an absolute jackass Fuyuhiko has been.

He really wishes he would have stayed calm and talked things out with Teru. They could have worked things out; maybe even found a way to be together that would have worked for both of them. Or maybe he could have just thought things through and told Teru that there's no way things could ever work out between them. Being honest would have helped him so much. What he did instead was tell Teru that he doesn't like him that way—that he could never like him that way—and how them being together is something that will never happen, ever, before bolting out of the classroom.

He's never been such a dirty liar.

Even from across the room, he can see the redness in Teruteru's eyes, and he knows he's been crying. After he had promised himself he'd never make Teru cry again. Okay, maybe he hadn't (at least not consciously), but isn't that part of the reason they became friends in the first place? To recognize that they had made mistakes in their past interactions, and vow that they wouldn't repeat those mistakes in the future? Or maybe he's just overthinking this, and he's just trying to come up with complicated reasoning to mask the truth.

He doesn't want Teru to cry. He doesn't want to make Teru sad. He wants exactly what Teru wants; or at least, what Teru wanted.

Chances are, Teru doesn't give a shit about him anymore, and Fuyuhiko can't blame him. God, he's been such an asshole.

He stuffs the test into his backpack, hoping he can go home soon.

/ / /

Peko catches him in the hallway again, just after the final bell rings and people are swarming out of their classrooms in clumps. "What did you say to him?" she asks, and even though Teruteru has already taken off down the hallway, long gone, Fuyuhiko knows exactly who she's talking about.

"I didn't say anything," he insists, trying to wriggle out of her grasp. But Peko holds on tight, and as her eyes bore into Fuyuhiko he can feel himself crumple.

"Then why," her words are forceful and her nails are digging into Fuyuhiko's wrist, "was Hanamura so upset? Don't tell me you didn't notice it."

Of course Fuyuhiko noticed it, but he's not about to let Peko get the upper hand. He's already taken this so far; he's stopped caring who he hurts in the process. He'll go down kicking and screaming if he has to. No one can make him admit to anything. "That doesn't mean I had anything to do with it."

The hallway is starting to empty out, and Fuyuhiko is starting to get worried, because something in Peko's stare tells him that she is definitely not backing down. "Why can't you tell me anything anymore?" she presses, and it's the most strained he thinks he's ever heard Peko's voice. "Do you not trust me?" Something about her expression almost frightens Fuyuhiko, and he tries to pull away again. Her nails scrape against his skin. "Is this not enough for you? Do I—"

"Peko—"

"Do I need to try harder?"

"No—I mean, I don't know!" The hallway is empty know, save for the two of them and their little game of tug-of-war. "Can you just let me go?"

Peko clenches her teeth; the angriest Fuyuhiko has ever seen her. "Answer me."

"This isn't about you!" he cries out. He throws a glance over his shoulder, making sure no one's around to watch.

Peko loosens her grip on Fuyuhiko's wrist, but she stands her ground. "You're right; it isn't. But the things you do affect me too, Fuyuhiko. When you do these things to Hanamura, I'm the one who has to comfort him and apologize for your actions. I'm not your mom, Fuyuhiko. Can you stop treating me like I am?"

"I—" Fuyuhiko stops short, because he'd never really thought about it before. "Yes. Fuck, Peko, I... I'm sorry."

Peko finally looks away from Fuyuhiko, her voice low as she speaks, "It's not me you should be apologizing to."

"I told you," Fuyuhiko can feel his body tighten; can feel the anger boiling up within him, "I didn't say anything to him!" But when he looks back at Peko, he sees something in her eyes he's never seen before.

Weakness.

He tries to speak; tries to say something in his defense; but words won't come out.

"Well?" she murmurs, and Peko let goes of his wrist now, making Fuyuhiko tense a little. He's been so stupid. He doesn't want to lose her. “I hope you’re happy with yourself, because we sure never asked for any of this."

A mountain's worth of emotions wash over him. He can feel the tears prick his eyes before he has time to control it, and in seconds he can feel himself crumple; feel himself cover his face with his hands, bend down, and legitimately sob. It doesn't feel like he can control himself. It feels more like an out-of-body experience; like he's somewhere else, locked up tight, watching this smaller, weaker version of himself.

But as soon as he feels a hand on the small of his back; as soon as he feels Peko pull him close; as soon as he can bury his face in her shoulder, reality comes rushing back. He's not the strong, confident person he's always tried to be; doing as he pleases and not caring who he hurts in the process (because they were in his way, he told everyone). He's a sniveling, sobbing sixteen-year-old clutching onto his childhood friend's school uniform.

"I'm sorry," she says, rubbing circles into his back.

"No," he chokes out, his tears staining the fabric of her sleeve. "This isn't your fault. I did this."

 / / /

Peko's hair is thick, he realizes, and there's room to put a lot of stuff in it. He sticks another hair clip in—this one has a little panda on the end—not entirely sure of what he's doing. It helps, though. The silver strands are like moonbeams, and he runs his fingers through them, absentmindedly. He hardly even remembers he's trying to distract himself.

The two of them have hardly spoken to each other since they got to Fuyuhiko's house. Peko wants to ask about what happened (after their conversation in the hallway, Fuyuhiko is sure of that), but for now she's letting him calm down. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his mouth (his nose is stuffy from crying). Everything feels like it's weighing down on him. The more he thinks about it, the worse it seems, so he's grateful that Peko's letting him wind down before explaining everything. He isn't sure how he's going to fix this, but Peko's always been pretty good at giving advice. He only wishes he had listened before taking things into his own hands.

"Hey," he hears, and his door swings open to reveal his sister standing on the other side. "If mom and dad ask where I am, I'm going to be at Mahiru's house."

"'Kay," he replies, not taking his eyes or his hands off of Peko's hair. What Natsumi does isn't important to him right now, but he doesn't tell her that.

Natsumi stands in the doorway a little longer, and Peko's head turns under his hands. They're sharing a look, aren't they. Natsumi is worried about him. God, all this and she still cares about him.

Peko shakes her head, and out of the corner of his eye, Fuyuhiko sees Natsumi turn and shut the door behind her. Peko waits until her footsteps disappear down the hallway to speak. "Was Hanamura...," she pauses, perhaps thinking of the best way to word it, "Was what he wanted to tell you... what I think it was?"

Fuyuhiko holds in a sigh. He doesn't want to think about this again, but it's about time that he does. "Probably, yeah."

"And you...," another pause; this time trying to delay the inevitable, "you rejected him, didn't you?"

He's quiet as he takes another lock of moonbeam hair in his hand, watching how it reflects the light even while laying limply in his palm. "What else was I supposed to do? I mean...," he closes his hand around it, shutting his eyes tight. "I could have handled things better. Fuck, I wish I had handled things better, but it's too late for that now, isn't it?"

Fuyuhiko can't see Peko's face (not with his eyes closed and her head turned away from him), but something in her voice sounds like a smile. "I don't think it's nearly as late as you think."

Chapter Text

Two AM, and someone shakes Fuyuhiko awake. He peels open his eyes, taking in the darkness of his room and his mother's face, dimly illuminated from the light in the hallway.

Last he remembers, Peko left to go home and he collapsed onto his bed, eyes worn out from crying. She had been understanding about the whole situation, and encouraged him to talk to Teru again; at least apologize and explain the situation, get things back on track...

He's forgetting something.

Oh, right: his mom. She's saying his name in the dark, shaking him roughly, and all with a growing sense of urgency. He shuts his eyes tightly and opens them again, trying to wake himself up and let his eyes adjust to the light. Her mouth is moving in a different pattern now; she's trying to tell him something...

He struggles to put words together in his sleep-deprived state. He picks up bits and pieces: an alleyway, walking home from a friend's house, a metal bat, lots of blood, Natsumi...

...

Oh shit.

/ / /

Fuyuhiko hears the whole story in the car: Natsumi went to Koizumi's house, but left in a hurry (why, he hasn't heard). On the way back, someone pulled her into an alley and beat her over the head with an aluminum bat. They left her to die there; barely conscious and choking on a pool of her own blood. In the mist of his panic, Fuyuhiko can't wait to get his hands around that bastard's neck, but apparently the cops already got wind from someone about who might have done it.

They're lucky (and it stings, the fact that they just got fucking lucky) that someone found her there and called an ambulance.

The car comes to a halt in front of the hospital, but Fuyuhiko has the car door open before it even comes to a complete stop. He rushes through the hospital doors, hardly aware of his mother and his father hurrying inside behind him. The trip from the hospital lobby from the room they're keeping Natsumi in is a blur; all Fuyuhiko can remember is white walls, the smell of hospitals, and the feeling that he's fucked up once more.

When he first opens the door, the first thing he sees is red. Not the red of Natsumi's blood—no, she's lying on a hospital bed; white gauze wrapped firmly around a head of golden-blonde hair. There's red seeping through the pure white, but that's not the red that catches Fuyuhiko's eye.

In a chair next to the hospital bed sits Mahiru Koizumi, hair red as usual, and eyes red and puffy from crying. The commotion makes her look towards the door, and Fuyuhiko can see the tears fill her eyes as she recognizes him.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers, running her hands through hair as red as blood, "I'm so, so sorry..."

/ / /

Koizumi is able to tell them the whole story: Natsumi arrived at her house around four and left around five. She left early because she had gotten into a fight with Satou. Apparently this was a normal occurrence—Satou was convinced Natsumi was too mean to Koizumi. She explains that Natsumi makes fun of her a lot, but it's always playful and she's always been fine with that. Satou didn't seem to understand that.

"They never got along," Koizumi tells him, but she doesn't take her eyes off of Natsumi. "I thought if they spent more time together, maybe they'd warm up to each other." She bites her lip, trying to hold back another sob. She fails. "But I was wrong. I was so wrong."

Fuyuhiko wants to react; almost wants to cry with her, but he's still frozen. It's not that he isn't feeling (inside his head are a swarm of emotions, buzzing around and gnawing away at his consciousness), it's that the shock of it all won't allow those emotions to properly process. But the emotions are there and they're strong. "Do you know who the fuck did this?" he asks in a low voice, because he needs to know.

He expects her to violently shake her head and keep crying. Maybe she'd even yell at him, tell him how she had nothing to do with that, and how dare he assume that she did. But instead she swallows roughly and weakly nods.

Fuyuhiko's hands are on her shoulders before he can even realize what he's doing. "Who?" he insists, the words coming out at lightning speed. "Who did this to her!?"

Koizumi takes a shaky breath; a vain attempt to compose herself. "R-right after Natsumi left... Satou ran off, too. She was really, really angry. I mean, Natsumi was too, but...," she presses her lips together, and soundless tears roll down her cheeks. "After she l-left, my dad complained that one of his baseball bats was missing, and...!"

Fuyuhiko can feel the air leave his lungs; slowly, cautiously, surely. The reality of the situation finally sets in, and tears prick his eyes for the second time that day. He violently turns away from Koizumi. He's not going to let her see him cry.

He knew there was a reason he didn't trust her.

(Not Koizumi; oh no, not her. She's still a royal pain, but she didn't treat his sister's skull like a baseball. No, he never trusted Little Miss Ordinary, Madame "That's a Nice Camera", queen of the red mark on Teruteru's face.)

That ridiculous bitch.

/ / /

He doesn't go to school the next day. No one expects him to. Natsumi may not be dead, but she's comatose, and if they're not lucky again that could end up being the same thing. The doctors say she'll wake up, but Fuyuhiko has never been an optimist.

After that, he has the weekend to recover. So when Monday comes around, he's surprised to hear that Koizumi missed a day, too. But it makes sense, of course. Her reaction was worse than his was.

"Was she there?" Peko asks him after seeing his reaction. "At the hospital."

Fuyuhiko lies; says no, she wasn't there, if only to give Koizumi some privacy.

/ / /

After class, he goes to his locker to get his lunch. Peko's going to eat with him this time, but apparently she needs to talk to Teru first. Maybe she's telling him about what happened. That's fine by him. After how much Fuyuhiko has shut him out, he deserves to know.

Lunch bag in hand, he grips the door handle, swings open the classroom door, and sees red.

Mahiru Koizumi is sitting in her desk with her lunch spread out on top of it. She doesn't look over at the door; she just stares at her peanut butter sandwich with sad green eyes. Her deep blue fingernails pick at a half-peeled orange nearby, but she makes no attempt to eat it. "Hi," she greets him, her voice almost raw.

"Uh," Fuyuhiko stumbles, because he really didn't expect to see her here, "hi."

"I'm sorry," she says, gently closing her eyes, "were you going to eat in here?"

"Well, yeah, but... it's fine."

She places her palms down on the desktop, ready to stand up. "It's okay. I can go."

"No, I can—"

"I really don't want to make you leave," she insists, putting her food away.

"I said it's fine," he replies, loud enough to make her stop in her tracks. "I'll sit with you."

Koizumi doesn't move from her position, not into Fuyuhiko walks over and sits in the desk right next to hers. Then she sits upright, looking at him with the most bewildered expression he's ever seen. "Why?" is all she says, and knowing Koizumi, she's gonna force an answer out of him no matter what.

"We're going through the same thing, aren't we? I don't know about you, but I don't like moping around all by myself."

Koizumi stares at him for a few moments longer, looking wonderstruck despite herself, before turning back to her food. "Alright. Thanks, I guess."

He swears he could have seen a smile there for a second.

/ / /

When Fuyuhiko gets home, there's someone sitting on his doorstep. The idea of talking to Teruteru right now makes his hair stand on end, but it's hard to avoid it when the little chef is right in between Fuyuhiko and the front door. He's already staring at Fuyuhiko, waiting for him to come closer, so he supposes there's really no way out of this one.

"What is it?" he says as soon as he's in earshot.

Teruteru doesn't hesitate this time; he stands up and hands Fuyuhiko a large paper box. On the top is a logo: Hanamura Diner. Is this... something from his family's restaurant? Stuck to the clear plastic window on the top is a piece of lined paper, folded up into a neat square. "Fuyuhiko", it reads, and there's even a loop on the "y". The note blocks his view, so he can't see what's inside; but whatever it is, it's got some weight to it.

"I heard about what happened...," Teru says, not meeting Fuyuhiko's eyes, "to Natsumi." He looks like he wants to say something important, but he settles with. "I thought I'd offer my condolences... e-even if she's going to be just fine."

"Oh," is what Fuyuhiko says in reply, because it's hard to think with this much tension clogging his pores. "Thanks, then."

Teru meets his eyes for just a second before turning and walking away in a rush. "I-I'll see you tomorrow!" he calls out over his shoulder, and Fuyuhiko hardly waves in return. He's still caught up in what might be inside the box, and more importantly, the note.

He heads inside, holding the box in both arms. Knowing that the box probably has some kind of food inside, he brings it to the kitchen. He sets it on the kitchen table and stares at it for a few seconds before reaching forward and peeling the paper note off of the plastic window.

Inside of the box is a circular chocolate cake, neatly frosted and decorated with strawberries. Did Teruteru make this himself? And for him (and his family, but for some reason that feels like a small detail)? It's beautiful, and as expected of Teruteru's dishes, it probably tastes great.

It takes him a moment to remember that the note is still in his hand. He thinks about putting it aside, maybe waiting to open it, but fuck it. He's hesitated enough these past few months. He unfolds the note, ready to deal with whatever it might hold.

Fuyuhiko—

(Alright, good start. Nothing's gone wrong yet.)

Before I say anything I want you to know that I completely understand that you've rejected me. I don't understand why, because you never told me, but I've realized that this is just something I'm going to have to deal with. I don't want to make things worse by bothering you about it.

(Well fuck. It's probably a good thing that Teruteru's thinking this way, and he's a little grateful for it, but it really isn't something he has to deal with.

...What is he talking about? Yes it is. It's not like he's going to go to Teru and...

Anyways.)

When I heard about what happened to your sister, I remembered that I'm not the only thing happening in your life. You have other problems, and I shouldn't have made myself one of them.

(Except Teru didn't make himself into a problem. Fuyuhiko made him into a problem, and Teru shouldn't be blaming himself.)

I really hope that we can be friends again, because you mean so much to me. I'd really hate to lose you over something like this.

(Same here.)

I made the cake myself. It's not on the menu, but I know you like sweets so I—

(How the fuck did Teruteru know that!? Fuyuhiko never told him.

Maybe Teru has been paying more attention than he thought. Well, at least that's one question answered.)

—so I made this for you and your family. To apologize for what I've done and to let you know that everything's going to be alright.

(Idiot. Fuyuhiko already knew that...)

I hope you can forgive me.

—Teruteru

Fuyuhiko folds the letter back together and heads up to his room, having made up his mind.

ACT II END

Chapter Text

Shio is the one to answer the door. She stares at Fuyuhiko with blank dark eyes and he's really not sure how to respond. He's never seen her without Kosho before (he kind of assumed that since they were twins, they did everything together. He realizes how stupid that was now). It's a little surreal. "Um, is Teru home?" he asks, trying to get a look into the house behind her. He's using the second floor entrance on the side of the house this time. He only knows it exists from a couple of later visits to Teru's house. "I need to talk to him."

She opens the door further, motioning for him to step inside. "He's in his room." Fuyuhiko steps inside, but before he can make it through the living room she speaks again. "Hey," she says, and her voice makes him stop in his tracks. He turns to face her and notices that something in her expression has changed. He can't exactly pinpoint it, but she looks more serious than before. "Don't fuck it up."

He's not sure what she means, but the way she staring him down makes him feel a little threatened. So he just nods. Does she know why he's here? How could she?

He makes his way up the stairs with quick, even steps. He nears Teru's room as fast as he can manage, not wanting to change his mind at the last second again. He's a good four paces away when something catches the back of his shirt. He turns around to free himself, and ends up with his hand inches away from Mimi Hanamura's face. "Uh, hey," he greets. He doesn't have a lot of experience with kids, much less younger siblings that aren't his.

"Hi," she says back, giving him a shy look. "Are you gonna talk to Teru?"

"Yeah," Fuyuhiko replies, managing to worm his way out of her grip and take another step towards the door.

"Do you like him?" she asks, in the way that only a six-year-old could. Fuyuhiko freezes. "Because he likes you. He told me."

"I know," Fuyuhiko says, but then he realizes how that must sound, "That he likes me, I mean. Look, I really have to do thi—"

But Mimi is stubborn. "Are you gonna tell him you love him?"

He can feel his ears turn red, and Mimi's eyes go wide with excitement. "You are, huh? You are, you are, you are!"

"Maybe!" he spits out, and he glances back towards the door. "We quiet, will ya!? He might hear you!"

Mimi's smile quickly turns into a pout. Guess it runs in the family. "He'd be really happy, though. I think he'd definitely say yes!" She stares at her socked feet, suddenly looking very sad. "Not like the girl in my class."

Fuyuhiko is confused for a moment, until he remembers the first time he met Mimi. He had pushed it aside at first; hadn't thought anything of it, but now he couldn't help but feel a little bad for her.

"I think he likes you or something. Like, like like. I know 'cause there's a girl in my class I like like, and I talk about her like Teru talks about you."

She's just a kid, of course. It's early in her life. She grow up, she'll meet other people, and she'll get over it. But the look on her face (lips pressed tightly together, eyes narrowed and brimming with tears) makes Fuyuhiko want to say something—anything—to patch up her scratches.

"She yelled at me," Mimi tells him, although it sounds more like she's talking to herself. "She called me gross and said that girls can't like girls."

"Well," Fuyuhiko says, eyes still drawn towards Teruteru's bedroom door, "if she's that kind of person, then I guess you shouldn't have liked her in the first place."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mimi's head perk up. "Yeah," her voice sounds almost chipper this time, "I guess not."

"You'll find someone nicer," he reassures her, taking one more decisive step towards the door. He looks at her this time and finds that she's smiling.

"Good luck!" she shouts before turning and dashing down the stairs; a giggling mess of childhood wonder. He watches her go and can't help but smile, just a little.

Three feet behind him, Teruteru's bedroom door clicks open. "Fuyuhiko?"

He whirls around to face him, feeling like he's been caught in the middle of some heinous crime. "Oh. Hey," he chokes out, and he instantly knows that his attempt to sound casual has failed. His voice makes it sound like he's gargling lemon juice and nails. "I, uh... I came to talk to you."

"Yeah," Teru says, his hands clasping the edge of the door, "I heard." He turns his head away, and Fuyuhiko can swear he saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Do you... wanna come inside?"

Fuyuhiko nods, so Teruteru opens the door wider. He steps in slowly, suddenly aware of just how awkward this situation really is. It's not like he hasn't been in Teru's room before—he's been in here enough times to feel at least somewhat at home. It's just that being here; being in this room and being around Teru again; reminds him that this is really happening. He's really going to do it.

Teru takes a seat on the edge of his bed, and when Fuyuhiko doesn't join him he motions for him to sit down next to him. Fuyuhiko hesitates, but he figures there's no reason not to. Teru's bed is soft and comfortable and it's nice being close to him after all this time.

"So," Teru starts, and it's more of a motion for Fuyuhiko to speak than anything else.

"So," Fuyuhiko continues, searching desperately for the right words to say. "Did you, uh... how much of that conversation did you hear?"

Teru's gaze is firmly focused on the floor. "Most of it."

Fuyuhiko can feel himself redden. "Oh. So I guess you know then, huh?"

Teru looks at him, then back at the ground, and then nods. "I guess it's less climactic than you'd planned, but...," he smiles, looking almost a bit guilty, "it still makes me happy."

(And it's odd, Fuyuhiko thinks, because he thought he'd never hear Teruteru use the word "climactic" in a non-sexual way. But a lot of things are happening that he never could have predicted, so he lets it slide.)

"I'm... I'm sorry," he chokes out, and he's suddenly brought to months ago, in a artificially lit classroom, when an overbearingly optimistic teacher suggested that they might just become friends. "I've seriously been a huge asshole."

"It's fine," Teru starts, but Fuyuhiko won't have any of it.

His hands are on Teru's shoulders in seconds, holding him firmly to emphasize his point. "No, it's not fine. I've been going on this whole fucking time thinking I could just push people away and all my problems would just disappear, but they didn't. All I did was give myself another fuck-ton of problems to deal with!" He can feel a burning sensation in his eyes, but he fights it to the best of his ability. "If I hadn't been so focused on myself, maybe Natsumi wouldn't be—"

Teru looks at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. "Fuyuhiko, it's really not your fault..."

"I know," he says, more to himself than to Teru, "but I still feel like I could have done something."

He stares at Teruteru's red bedsheets, and doesn't look up until he feels arms wrap around his waist. It's a simple-minded way of comforting him, but he'll be damned if it doesn't work. He returns the hug, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in months. He rests his chin on the top of Teru's head, and finds that he can breathe easy again.

"I love you," he says, and he finds he actually means it.

Chapter Text

Despite all of the shit going on in his life, Fuyuhiko feels oddly at peace where he is: sitting in a metal fold-out chair, surrounded by white walls, with Teru's hand in his. A few feet in front of him, Natsumi's eyes are gently closed, her calm face only obscured by the green-tinted oxygen mask helping her breathe. The doctors say she'll wake up in a few weeks, and that puts Fuyuhiko at least a little at ease.

Satou hasn't been at school since the night of the incident. Fuyuhiko heard about what happened (or at least, he knows that she's been apprehended for questioning), but he doesn't know what they're going to do with her. He doesn't want to know. His parents do, but he's told them to keep that kind of information away from him. He doesn't care what the fuck has happened to Satou, a long as she's far away from his sister.

"Fuyuhiko," his father had said, his big hand gripping the back of a wooden chair in their dining room, "when you get older, you're going to have to deal with issues like this. This is preparation for—"

His mother cut him off there, and Fuyuhiko was grateful. His father often means well, but sometimes Fuyuhiko can't stand the way he looks at him; like he always knows what best for him, just because he's older and just because he's in charge. And his mother; his mother is many things, but above all she is protective and stubborn. Once she stands up for something, she doesn't back down. It was clear from the start who would win this argument.

But in this room, a little world of white curtains and the smell of hospital chemicals, there is no arguing and no overbearing parents. Just him and Teru; and Natsumi, inactive and completely unaware of the secret her brother is waving in front of her face. He holds Teru's hand a little tighter, cherishing the feeling of a tiny, unimportant teenage rebellion.

From his left, he hears Teru hum softly, pressing his lips together in a contemplative frown—the tell-tale sign that he wants to start a conversation but doesn't know where to start.

"In a few weeks, we won't be able to do this anymore," he says (and he knows he should be focusing on the happy things that will be happening in a few weeks, but they've already talked about that).

"We could go to my house," Teru suggests, but they both know it won't be the same. Right now this is the only place they can go without having to worry about who might see. And even then, Fuyuhiko can't will himself to do anymore than this; can't bring himself to kiss Teru when his little sister is right there, completely unaware. Something about that idea just makes him feel slimy and gross.

He doesn't like keeping secrets right under people's noses, but it's really his only option right now. There are one, maybe two, people who know that him and Teru are dating: Peko and Fujisaki.

Fuyuhiko told Peko right away. She deserved to be in the loop after how much he'd locked her out of it. "Congratulations," is what she said, hardly looking up from the book she was reading. "I'm glad you finally did it." It wasn't much, but what did Fuyuhiko really expect?

(Well, a little more than that, considering what had happened in the hallway, with no one else around, with her hand wrapped around his wrist and her nails digging into his skin and...)

(He doesn't want to think about that.) 

He only suspects Fujisaki knows because of a few encouraging smiles and secretive looks. Maybe Peko told him. He feels like he should be angry, but in actuality he really doesn't mind. He must be relieving a lot of stress lately. Maybe that's what happens when you let out everything you've kept bottled up. He's sure Fujisaki would be proud; maybe he is, if he knows.

Teru's family knows too; Fuyuhiko was only alright with that because they're not acquainted with his family. Besides, Teru said they promised not to tell. He'll take his word on that. But even then, he'd rather be in here, where he knows no one in his life will walk in on them, than be in Teru's room, where there are people outside who can probably guess what they're doing together. He thinks Teru understands that.

(Not that him and Teruteru have done anything like that. Despite Teru's bravado, they both know neither of them are ready for it.)

"I know," he tells Teru, squeezing his hand a little tighter. And even though it's a late response to his suggestion, Teru seems to understand the implication and returns the squeeze.

Fuyuhiko studies Natsumi's unmoving face and finds himself wishing her eyes would flutter open despite what she would see. It's only natural, really; he is her brother and he doesn't like to see her lying unconscious in a hospital bed, even if he knows she's going to be alright. No matter what the doctors say, the worry is going to eat away at him at least a little bit.

But on the other hand, he has no idea what Natsumi will do when (not if, when) she finds out. She was already teasing him about "dating" Teru before, so it's not much of a stretch to say that she'll figure it out sooner or later. And as for her teasing, it was pretty neutral. Fuyuhiko could never tell if she really wanted him and Teru together, or if she was just fucking around. She could have even been chastising him, he realizes, despite how unlikely it seems. So Fuyuhiko has no real way of knowing how she'll react.

His parents, on the other hand, are not a risk he's willing to take. Not because they're homophobic—Fuyuhiko has never heard a word about it in his house—but because of what they expect of him. Find a nice girl, get married, have some kids, take care of a family. And Fuyuhiko... well, he doesn't want that. He hadn't thought much of it before, but that fact is finally there now, plain and simple and out in front of him to see. It had been hiding for far too long; right under his nose, where he could sense that something was there but wasn't quite sure what it was. Like an itch on his back that he couldn't quite reach.

He doesn't like girls and he never really has. He's happy that Teru's around, or he probably never would have accepted that.

He's gay.

And part of him thinks that maybe that's why he's always distanced himself from romance and convinced himself he hated it: not because he was frustrated about who he was, or scared, or grossed out by all of the straight people. No, it was never about the people. It was about everything else he was surrounded by. The movies, the books, the words of his parents, the always-present, "Do you have a girlfriend yet?" at family get-togethers. Him liking girls was expected by the media and assumed by his family. No one had ever given him a choice otherwise. Just thinking about it makes him feel ill. There's really no wonder he distanced himself for it for as long as he had.

Teru sees him watching Natsumi; sees his changing expression and gives his arm a shake. He doesn't speak until Fuyuhiko's looking right at him, his train of thought finally broken (and good, because Fuyuhiko's pretty sure he was hurting himself). "She'll be fine," Teru tells him, and Fuyuhiko knows he's misunderstood his feelings. That seems to be something they've both done a lot over the past few months, but right now it doesn't feel important to correct him.

So, "I know," is all Fuyuhiko says, and he's more than content to spend the rest of the afternoon in silence, protected by these freshly-painted white walls.

(But there's still that nagging feeling—the one that won't and can't go away.)

Chapter Text

"I'm bi," Peko says, and Fuyuhiko inhales a dry piece of cracker and coughs as the crumbs enter his windpipe, because this is the first time he's hearing of this. "Are you alright?" Peko asks him, leaning over the table to rest a hand on his shoulder. He only gives her a bewildered look in return (after clearing his throat, of course). "What?" is her response, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Why is this my first time hearing about this?" Part of him hopes he sounds angry, because he sort of is (but not in the serious way), but the other part of him thinks it's probably for the best if he doesn't.

Peko regards him with an unblinking stare, but with the way her gaze shifts about Fuyuhiko can see that she's mulling over the answer in her head. "It didn't seem important," is what she says after a long hesitation, and Fuyuhiko can't help but groan.

"You know, Peko," he grumbles, laying his head against the wooden surface of their dining space, "I might have felt a lot better knowing I wasn't alone."

"You should already know you're never alone," Peko replies, pulling a handful of crackers out of a box Fujisaki holds out for her.

Fujisaki stumbles out a, "Yeah," in agreement, but doesn't clarify beyond that. Fuyuhiko can't help but notice him tug at the bottom of his shirt; a usual nervous gesture of his.

"Hmm," Teru contemplates as he pops a piece of a tangerine into his mouth. He swallows before he speaks (always the epitome of good table manners; nothing ever changes). "I'm pansexual, so—" He's unable to finish his sentence before Fuyuhiko collapses on the tabletop again, vainly attempting to hold in his laughter. "What?" he asks, drawing the word out as he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend.

"How fitting," he comments, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. From across the table, he can see Fujisaki suppressing a giggle too.

Teru's elbows land on the table as he rests his chin in the palms of his hands, looking awfully exasperated with Fuyuhiko. "I see you're as clever as always." Fuyuhiko only laughs out loud in return; he doesn't have time to stop Teru from asking the inevitable, "So then, what about you?"

"Fujisaki laughed, too. You didn't ask him," is what Fuyuhiko spits out on instinct.

At the other end of the table, Fujisaki nearly jumps (or, at the very least, he gives a slight flinch). "Uh, I-I don't know, I..."

"You don't have to share if you don't want to," Peko counters, laying a reassuring hand on Fujisaki's shoulder. Her eyes shift back to Fuyuhiko. "That goes for you too, Fuyuhiko. I only brought it up because it was topical. It doesn't mean the rest of you have to share."

"But we can if we want to, right?" asks Fujisaki, staring at his hands, folded on top of the table.

Peko gives him a quick look and Fuyuhiko doesn't know what it's supposed to mean, but it looks understanding somehow. "Of course." Fujisaki doesn't reply, though; just stares at his hands more and narrows his gaze a little, deep in thought.

Fuyuhiko hesitates a little before speaking (why shouldn't he? He's kept this in for how long?), but they're all friends here, so it really shouldn't be an issue... And with Peko's parents out of the house, he's pretty much in the clear. Still, he has to take a deep breath before actually saying it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm gay," he says at last, and the words stick to the tip of his tongue, because this is the first time he's actually said it. Hearing the words aloud only seems to make them more real.

"Pretty sure?" Teru echoes. The tone of his voice isn't judgmental or hurt, just confused and maybe even a bit curious.

"Well, it's not like I've ever seriously liked anyone besides you," Fuyuhiko mumbles, picking at the tangerine peel Teru had left on the table. "I just... I'm at least eighty percent sure, okay?"

Fujisaki gives a light smile at this. "That's good. To be sure of yourself, I mean."

"Sexuality is fluid, anyways," Teru says before popping another piece of tangerine into his mouth.

"Exactly," Peko agrees, slathering a healthy amount of cream cheese onto one of her crackers. "If you change your mind, none of us will judge you. And if anyone else does, then I can always—"

"It's fine, Peko. I think I'll manage."

She frowns at him. "It was just an offer."

He knows it wasn't. "I'm sure it was."

Peko shoves the entire cracker into her mouth, scrunching her lips together as she chews in what Fuyuhiko can only assume is her version of a pout. During this, he catches her sneaking a glance at Fujisaki, and she almost looks worried for a moment...

Ah, right. He still hasn't spoken yet. Fuyuhiko doesn't want to push it (just like he nearly did before), but he can't help but feel curious. Does Fujisaki have some sort of big secret he's holding? And if that's the case, does Peko know about it? No one presses for an answer, but surely Fujisaki can tell that there's a common curiosity; they're all staring...

And all too suddenly Fujisaki mouth is moving at top speed and Fuyuhiko can't process his words fast enough. Something about liking girls for sure but feeling like a boy sometimes and a girl other times and apparently he's been looking into gender studies? Then he spouts out some words that Fuyuhiko's pretty sure he's never heard before and if he explained them then he was talking to fast for Fuyuhiko to catch it.

There's a pause after he speaks, as if everyone's expecting him to say more (and honestly, Fuyuhiko kind of is). After a moment of thought, Peko opens her mouth. "I have to admit, I expected this." Fujisaki tries to get a word in, but she interrupts before he can. "And it's fine. I love you, not your gender." Beside her, Fujisaki turns red, and Fuyuhiko tries to ignore the fact that this is the first time he's heard Peko say she loves Fujisaki. "And sexuality is fluid, anyways," she repeats, giving a nod in Teru's direction (and he nods back).

"Thank you," Fujisaki says, looking like he might cry.

Fuyuhiko shuffles in his seat, not wanting to ask any questions for fear of making Fujisaki feel worse. Fujisaki catches his eye between rubbing tears away from his own, and suddenly the air feels a lot thicker.

"Are you...," Fujisaki swallows mid-sentence and speaks again, hoarsely, "is everything okay, Kuzuryuu-kun?"

"Y-yeah!" he says on instinct, throwing his hands in front of him in a way that he hopes makes him look less like a judgmental jerk (because he really isn't one; he's just confused). "I just, uh...," he breaks eye contact with Fujisaki for just a second and he can see the other flinch.

"Just...?" His voice quivers, and in that moment Fuyuhiko realizes that he's holding his breath. He lets it out slowly, trying to let his pride leave with it (it's only for the best, he thinks).

"...Didn't understand anything you just said." He stares down at his lap as he says it, trying to ignore the feeling of being stared at, even if it's by good friends. He can feel his ears turning red and it only gets worse when Teru reaches over and places his hand on top of his. He's still getting used to this, but that thought doesn't make it any less embarrassing.

There's a long pause (or at least it feels awfully long) before Fujisaki speaks, with just as much gentleness as Fuyuhiko would have expected. "O-oh. I didn't realize you didn't...," he looks like he's about to say more, but he stops himself and restarts. "I'm sorry. I can explain more, if you want."

Fuyuhiko feels his face returning to room temperature, but there's still a pang of guilt sinking to the bottom of the stomach. "Uh, if that's okay with you, then yeah, I guess..." He tries to sound open and inviting, but he doesn't think it shows (sixteen years of being an anti-social jackass really isn't helping him right now).

Luckily, Fujisaki is as kind as ever. "Sure, of course," he(?) says, giving Fuyuhiko a warm smile. "Where do we begin?"

Chapter Text

The easiest way to hide a relationship, Fuyuhiko quickly learns, is to act like he doesn't take anything Teruteru says to heart. To the ignorant onlooker; to someone who wouldn't dare to look beyond the surface, it looks like nothing has changed at all. But really, everything is different now. Like when Teruteru greets him at his front door with a smile and a, "You look nice today," and Fuyuhiko has to pretend like he didn't spend a little extra time looking through his clothes in the closet this morning.

He holds the door open a little wider, and Teru walks inside for what must be the hundredth time now. It seems like Teru is over every other day now: after school for to do homework or just to drop in and borrow something; on weekends for movie nights and sleepovers. They're usually at Fuyuhiko's house; Teru's house is usually too loud and busy with the restaurant downstairs, and it's easier to deal with one younger sibling than three.

"Is she feeling alright?" Teru asks as soon as he steps in. Fuyuhiko nods, not really knowing what to say in response. Teru smiles a little at this. "Good. I brought some other stuff too; to make hot chocolate." He gives Fuyuhiko a look; a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Do you think she'd like that?"

Fuyuhiko doesn't even try to hide his smile. Teru's used to caring for the sick and it shows. "I wouldn't worry about it."

Speaking of siblings... Natsumi woke up two days ago, and while she's certainly awake, she's not ready to go back to school quite yet. Her wounds are still healing and she's almost (but not quite, Fuyuhiko will insist) confined to her bed. The doctors said to give her a week before returning to school, and even then they want to check up on her before she goes back. The doctors have also reassured him that she won't relapse... not that Fuyuhiko needed reassuring, of course. She's awake now and that's all that matters.

But right now isn't about Natsumi. ...Actually, he takes that back. Teru is here to help make her cookies and hot chocolate. Fuyuhiko figured it would be a nice treat and make her feel a little bit better about being stuck in bed. So really, today is all about Natsumi, but Fuyuhiko's a little more focused on Teru right now.

They lock gazes for a second, and Teru looks a little worried. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step towards him. He reaches out, his fingers just lightly brushing Fuyuhiko's arm—

He pulls his arm away; no one's around to see, but he just can't feel safe here (in his own home. How fucked up is that?). "Yeah," he says, and he gives Teru a look that he hopes portrays what he's feeling: I'm not trying to brush you off, I just can't have someone walk in and see us so close together.

Teru stares back and seems to understand, and if he doesn't Fuyuhiko can just explain later. But now's not the time. He takes Teru to the kitchen, and he can't help but notice that it seems awfully quiet without the feeling of intertwined fingers leading the way. They stop in the doorway, just as they did last time, only this time Teru should really be used to how "standard" Fuyuhiko's kitchen is. Teru takes only a moment to look around before deciding to place this bag on the counter. Fuyuhiko follows him and watches as he takes out ingredient after ingredient: flour, sugar, eggs, baking soda, chocolate chips...

"So," Fuyuhiko can feel a grin creeping up the corner of the face, "you'll lead the way, right?"

Teru smiles right back. "I know the recipe by heart."

"Yeah," Fuyuhiko replies, and the fizzy feeling is in full swing, "I know."

"First you have to wash your hands," Teru says slowly, as if he was talking to a small child. He keeps steady eye contact with Fuyuhiko, who has an overwhelming feeling that this is one of Teru's weird ways of flirting.

But Fuyuhiko was prepared for this. "I already washed my hands," he snaps back, a distinctly implied "joke's on you" hidden in his words.

"Let me see," Teru replies, as if it's part of some sort of test. Fuyuhiko holds his hand out, turning it over to show that, yes, it is totally clean.

And then Teru does something that surprises him. He takes Fuyuhiko's hand (gently, as if he could break it with the slightest slip of his pinky finger), holds it up, and kisses his palm. In Fuyuhiko's house, where anyone could have walked in and seen. (And although it's certainly something Fuyuhiko would never say out loud, that little tidbit made it that much more exciting.)

"Wash them again," Teru says, and Fuyuhiko does. When Teru joins him, Fuyuhiko feebly tries to keep their hands away from each other, but it's nearly impossible because the stream of water is only so big. Their hands end up pressed together in the big metal prison, which is somehow more concerning than the fact that the small stream of water ends up getting everywhere after bouncing off their hands.

It's Fuyuhiko's turn to preheat the oven this time; Teru is busy measuring different ingredients into different sized measuring cups. It's just as Fuyuhiko finishes this minimal task that the sound of the doorbell resounds throughout the Kuzuryuu household. It's such impeccable timing that Fuyuhiko almost thinks it's the sound the "start" button on the oven makes; but since when was their oven (or any oven, for that matter), that loud? Teru looks at him, looking almost concerned about who could be at the door (or maybe he just knows how much more on edge and non-risk-taking Fuyuhiko will be with a guest around)? Fuyuhiko holds the gaze just a second longer than he should, gripping the edge of the counter harder than he realizes.

When he turns to go back to the living room, he can see Teru turn back to his mixing bowl, and suddenly there's a wall of glass separating the two of them. Fuyuhiko holds his breath, hoping it's just a salesman or something (the only time he'll ever hope for that, he realizes). But by the time he gets to the door, he can see a flash of red hair in the window, and all those hopes turn to dust.

He swings open the door to greet Koizumi, whose nails have been freshly painted with a light shade of blue polish (they had been navy for a couple weeks now). "Hey," he says, and he tries not to sound rude, because he knows why she's here.

"Hey," she echoes, and for some reason talking really brings out the bags under her eyes. She hadn't bothered to cover them up with makeup, not that it makes a difference to Fuyuhiko. Whether or not a girl wears makeup is the least of his concern. "Is Natsumi home?" she asks him. Her brow furrows in worry, as if she doesn't already know the answer to that question.

He holds the door open a little wider, motioning for her to come in. She does, holding her over-the-shoulder bag close to her side. Fuyuhiko had overlooked it at first, thinking it was just a camera bag. But on second thought, it looks like a normal bag. That is, the bag itself looks normal; something is definitely stuffed inside. It looks like it's about to burst.

Koizumi looks absolutely lost in the middle of his living room, and it's only then that Fuyuhiko realizes she isn't usually over here. And why is that, Fuyuhiko wonders, but he knows the answer. He and Koizumi never got along well. Koizumi's house was always the better option for Natsumi, in order to avoid conflict. "Here," he offers, gesturing for her to follow him, "I'll take you to her." When he sees her look towards the floor, her hand gripping the strap of her bag, he adds, "She'll probably be really happy to see you." He feels bad that this affects her so much, especially when he's still trying not to blame himself for this whole mess.

But he finds himself feeling a little better when Koizumi smiles.

/ / /

"Who was it?" is the first thing Teru asks when Fuyuhiko returns. Fuyuhiko has a feeling he knows, or at least has a suspicion. It's not like you can't hear voices in the living room from here, but Koizumi's voice isn't necessarily the most distinctive.

Still, Fuyuhiko gives him a straight answer. "Koizumi. She came to visit Natsumi. I think she has a present for her or something." Teru stares down at the half-filled bowl before him, looking a bit discouraged. Maybe he thinks they're making Natsumi more food than she can eat, Fuyuhiko realizes, so he quickly follows up his previous statement with, "I'm sure she'll appreciate it, whatever it is. All of this, really. She hasn't eaten in a while, you know." When Teru gives him a look, Fuyuhiko has to hide a grin. "That's what happens when you're in a coma."

"I know that!" Teru cries out, laughing as he flicks the smallest bit of cookie batter in his direction. He has good aim; it lands on the center of Fuyuhiko's right cheek. Fuyuhiko wipes it off his cheek and test-tastes it. It's mostly eggs and sugar; unfinished, but sweet. It takes him a moment to notice that across the room, Teru's smile has faded. "I'm just... a little worried, is all."

Teru motions towards the big bag of flour, and Fuyuhiko is happy to get it for him. "It's not like we're gonna give her a stomach rupture or anything. She's a smart kid; she knows when to stop eating." He rummages through a bag of measuring cups, wondering which one is the right one to use. "How much flour do you need?" he asks, only vaguely aware that he's breaking the tense atmosphere by doing so.

"Two cups," Teru replies, staring absent-mindedly out the window while Fuyuhiko pulls a measuring cup out of the bag. It's not until it's placed right next to him that Teru seems to come back to Earth. "And I'm not worried about your sister. I'm worried about you."

"Me?" is what comes out of Fuyuhiko's mouth on instinct, and it makes him sound like a broken record, but he can't help it. He's fine. It's Natsumi who everyone should be worried about.

(Okay, maybe he's not totally fine. But there's nothing anyone can do about it; he's not ready to come out yet and won't be for a while. Regardless, Natsumi is of more concern.)

Teru stares him down, his dark eyes showing confusion, then understanding, then something Fuyuhiko can't quite read. "Never mind. Just be careful around Koizumi-san, alright?"

Fuyuhiko sits down in one of the kitchen chairs, deciding not to question his boyfriend for now.

Chapter Text

When the two of them decide to go on their first date—their first real, actual, official date—it rains. It's probably for the best, Fuyuhiko thinks as he watches drop after drop bounce against his front porch. Not a lot of people go out in the rain unless they have to. It'll decrease their chances of being spotted by someone from school.

That being said, they're still going out. Teru was the one to suggest calling it off, but Fuyuhiko had convinced himself that it was much too late to do that (well, that and the fact that he was secretly more than a little excited about it). He had also insisted that Teru pick him up at his house, because he "didn't own an umbrella." This was a lie, and they both knew it. But they also both knew that Fuyuhiko was too manly nervous to admit that he wanted to share an umbrella.

They've gotten pretty good at communicating without actually saying what they really mean, which is a huge weight off of Fuyuhiko's shoulders. A lack of communication had clearly been a problem in the past, so it's lucky for them that they've figured out how to adapt.

It's 1:04 when Teru arrives. He was supposed to be here at 1, and he apologizes for that, even though 4 minutes isn't all that long to wait. "Mom needed help in the restaurant, and then the twins gave me this overblown rant on 'date etiquette' for some reason. I don't know what they were so worried about," he tells Fuyuhiko as he opens up his umbrella and hands it over to Fuyuhiko (it's mutually agreed that it's much easier for the taller of the two of them to hold it).

"Oh, yes," Fuyuhiko starts, sneering as they take their first down the stairs leading up to the porch, "I can't imagine."

Teru stares at him, mouth wide open in mock-shock. "Why, I never!" He continues on as they make their way down the sidewalk, hardly managing to hide a grin. "I'll have you know, Fuyuhiko, that I am a well-respected member of the community. I would never force myself upon someone as innocent as yourself." Fuyuhiko is so busy rolling his eyes that he doesn't notice the angle Teru turns his head in. "Even if you have a nice ass."

Fuyuhiko's immediate reaction is to elbow him in the side, which earns a yelp from Teru. "Cut it out!" he hisses. "At least while we're in public." He sees Teru grin, and swiftly adds, "That doesn't mean whatever you think it means."

"I know," Teru tells him, but he's still smirking, the little bastard.

"I'm serious. If you see anyone we know—and I mean anyone—stop holding my hand or whatever you're probably going to be doing and tell me right away, got it?"

"Got it," Teru echoes, almost monotonously. He reaches out to take Fuyuhiko's hand, and Fuyuhiko has to switch the umbrella to his other hand. He almost soaks Teru in the process, a fact which Teru most certainly lets him know. Still, he ends up holding Teru's hand, and he wonders if all that effort was worth it if someone is going to see.

Instead of going somewhere in particular, they had opted for walking around the downtown district and stopping in some stores along the way. "I have to get Mimi something for her birthday, anyway," Teru points out as they walk along the sodden streets. "And you should probably get Natsumi something. Is she still stuck in bed?"

"No, she's been up a lot lately. And I'm pretty sure she's already gotten enough presents to last a lifetime."

Teru hums in reply, but after a moment of hesitation he asks, "When is she going back to school?"

Right. School. There's only a week until summer break. Natsumi hasn't missed that much school; okay, well, maybe a week is a lot. But Koizumi has been stopping by to bring Natsumi her homework every day, so she's still staying caught up. She always seems to stop and say hi to Fuyuhiko, and every time he wonders the same thing: why is Koizumi doing this, as opposed to one of Natsumi's classmates? "She's going back for the last week before break. She's not that far behind; she's been getting all the homework from Koizumi."

"From Koizumi?"

"Mm-hmm."

Teru doesn't say anything, and when Fuyuhiko looks over to see his reaction, he's staring at his shoes. "What is your deal with Koizumi?"

Teru's gaze all to suddenly rises to meet his. "What? Nothing," he insists too quickly for it to be true.

"Seriously, Teru." He narrows his eyes, but Teru manages to hold his gaze. It's clear he's not budging on this one, but Fuyuhiko doesn't back down, "You get all... panicky whenever I bring her up. Are you still scared of her after the thing with the hairbrush?"

Teru's expression falters, and he pouts as he stares out into the street. "That was still Kuwata's fault."

"Fine. Then what is it?" When Teru doesn't answer, he feels the need to add, "There was also that time you told me to be careful around her. So you can't pretend to not know what I'm talking about."

"Look," Teru starts sternly, and Fuyuhiko can feel his hand tighten around his own, "it's not really a big deal. I'm probably just looking into things too much. I just don't want to tell you about it, because then you'll be worried, too. A-and you already have enough to worry about, right?"

At first Fuyuhiko can only stare, because his argument really isn't bad. And he's right; Fuyuhiko doesn't need more things to worry about. The drama in his life has finally declined, and he doesn't need to drag it back up just because of his own stubbornness. "Fine," he decides at last. "I won't worry about it. But you know you don't have to be jealous of her or whatever. She's not—"

"I'm not—"

"—as annoying as I thought she was, but she's still a naggy bitch. She's just kind of taking a break from it right now, I gue—"

Before he can object, Teru has dragged him into the nearest store; a bookstore, with different titles and genres lining the wooden shelves. "You need to get something for Mimi?" Fuyuhiko asks, but he has the sinking feeling Teru actually pulled him in here to get him to stop talking about Koizumi.

Well, he'll take the hint.

Fortunately, Teru gives him a smile. "Yeah," he tells him. "She's been getting really good at reading. She says she's the at the top of her class."

This news (or perhaps the change of subject) seems to lift a weight off of Fuyuhiko's shoulders. He stands by the entrance, putting the umbrella away in the basket set by the door for rainy days, watching as Teru heads towards the multi-colored kids' section. Fuyuhiko's not sure if he wants to follow him over there. But as the distance between them widens, he feels like he has to.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Kuzuryuu."

Fuyuhiko wonders for a second if he should ignore her; if that's not "not worrying about it" entails. Then he wonders if Teru would want him to ignore the problem (whatever the "problem" even is) altogether or just act like things are normal.

"Kuzuryuu!"

He opts for the latter; Teru isn't even at school today, anyways (he ended up getting sick after their date, and Fuyuhiko can't help but feel just a little bit bad about that, since he was the one who insisted they shouldn't call it off just because of some rain). He turns around in his chair to face Koizumi, disregarding whatever look Peko is giving him right now. "What is it?" he asks, not caring if he sounds pissed off, because, well, she was just whisper-yelling at him a couple seconds ago.

Koizumi makes some sort of expression at him that Fuyuhiko can't exactly read: she presses her lips together and furrows her brow, like there's something that's really frustrating her, but she's not sure if taking it out on him is worth the effort. "I need to borrow an eraser," she tells him, more quietly than he would have expected her to. Then again, she's usually such a star student—maybe forgetting an eraser is some kind of big deal to her.

He rummages through his pencil bag until he finds a loose cap eraser. It's nothing special, just a dusty pink eraser, but as he places it in the palm of Koizumi's hand, he thinks he can see a light in her eyes. "Keep it," he tells her, because he has plenty.

"Thanks," she replies, and when she wraps her hand around it Fuyuhiko can see that her nails are the same dusty pink color as the eraser. "Hey," she starts, looking up from her nails (had she caught him staring?) to meet his eyes, "can I talk to you later?" Fuyuhiko is about to ask why, but he's cut off with, "It's kind of important. It's...," there's a hesitation, and Koizumi reaches up to tuck a strand of carrot-colored hair behind her ear, "it's about Natsumi." The light is brighter this time; now he's sure he didn't imagine it.

"Uh, sure," he says, even though he should probably refuse. He doesn't know what Teru meant about being careful, but this probably isn't it. But then again, Koizumi is his (maybe?) friend, and Natsumi is his sister. If there's a problem between them, there's no way he's not getting involved. "Is there somewhere you wanna meet or something?" To his right, he can see Peko turn to stare at him, and he wonders if this is really any of her business.

(But he knows that, in a way, it totally is, because she promised she would protect him and his parents are counting on her. And even though he doesn't think it's dangerous to go meet Koizumi after class to talk about his sister—who, by the way, just got out of a coma—he's starting to think she knows about whatever was worrying Teru so much.)

Koizumi fidgets; pulls on a piece of hair covering her ear. "I was thinking in the classroom, halfway through lunch. Miss Usami's usually gone, and she's been letting me eat in here, so..."

"Yeah, I get it. She let me and Peko do the same thing before. I'll be there."

And Koizumi gives him a smile, one that almost makes Fuyuhiko wonder how Teru could have thought she was trouble. A naggy bitch, not unlike his mother, with a voice shrill enough to cut glass, but certainly not dangerous.

Fuyuhiko won't realize what he meant until a little bit later.

/ / /

It's twelve fifty-two when he turns the handle and pushes open the door to Miss Usami's classroom again. He's been almost obsessively checking the time on his phone all lunch. He tried to convince himself he just didn't want to be late, but he knows better than that (and so did Peko and Fujisaki, who gave him worried looks from across their usual table in the home ec classroom). He's nervous. He really shouldn't be, but Teru's warnings, the way he brushed them off with such hesitation, and the way he would (now that Fuyuhiko's really thinking about it) stare at the tiled floor whenever Koizumi smiled and waved at them... those are the things that are keeping him on edge right now.

When he steps inside, she's sitting on top of one of the desks, her phone on in her open hand. Had she been checking the time, too? He doesn't have time to think about this, though, because she's already turning the screen off and setting it down. "Hey," she breathes, and her expression is nothing less than unreadable.

"Hey," he replies, warily closing the door behind him. He's never been claustrophobic before, but he suddenly feels a lot more at edge now that his only escape is gone. "So," he starts, and he's kind of embarrassed at how strangled it sounds, "is something going on between you and Natsumi?"

There's a kind of hesitation; not in Koizumi's voice, because she replies right away, but in her stance. She grips the edge of the desk tightly, staring at her feet, which she absentmindedly swings back and forth. "Not exactly," is what she tells him, and Fuyuhiko doesn't know what to make of that answer. But he doesn't have enough time to decipher it, because Koizumi is always hoisting herself off of the desk and making her way towards him. Her steps are quick and she's closer to Fuyuhiko sooner than he would have liked.

"Then what is it?" he manages to get out. "Is some asshole bothering her again? After all that—"

"This isn't about Natsumi," Koizumi insists, and her eyes are cold and hard and lightless, and she's totally serious, isn't she? "This is about us." She takes another step forward, cueing Fuyuhiko to take a step back. His back hits the door, and suddenly he thinks he understands what Teru was so worried about.

"What?" he hears himself say, and it sounds surprisingly strangled.

"You've helped me out a lot since what happened with Natsumi," she tells him, not daring to meet his eyes. "I just... I kind of lost all my confidence back then, and you were always there for me, so...," there's a definite pause, and Fuyuhiko can tell she has to force herself to look him in the eye, "I think it's time I properly thanked you."

Fuyuhiko's mind feels strangely active and oddly blank all at the same time. He reaches his hand back, against the door, and grips around until he finds the door handle. Koizumi's eyes bore into him, but he doesn't feel anything. Not towards her.

"Fuyuhiko—" she starts, but Fuyuhiko tries to block out the rest of that sentence, because since when does Koizumi call him "Fuyuhiko"?

But no matter how hard he tries, he knows. He tries not to hear, tries to turn his ears off or pretends she's saying something else or tries to do something equally ridiculous, but he knows.

And as he turns the door handle behind him, swings the door open, and makes a quick escape, he feels nothing but an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Fuyuhiko, I love you."

Chapter Text

"Peko, can you help me tie this? I need to do my hair..."

Fuyuhiko spares his sister a glance, right in time to see Peko grab hold of the red obi keeping Natsumi's kimono on. He looks away quickly and focuses his eyes on a bump on the white wall of his sister's bedroom. He's only here because Peko's in here and he needs her emotional support a lot more than he would like to admit. But he really doesn't want to see his little sister changing, even if she insists she's wearing a tank top and shirt underneath.

"You done yet?" he drones, and in response he gets a frustrated huff.

"If you're gonna be in here, you should do something other than stare at the wall and bitch and moan."

"Like what?" Fuyuhiko ventures, carefully pulling his knees to his chest. He's wearing a kimono, too; something he wouldn't normally do if it weren't for his family. He's not really all that bothered by it. It's just... different. (And maybe he's a little nervous about how Teru will react to it, but it's not a bad nervous. It's that weird fizzy feeling again; the one thing that's making Fuyuhiko feel a little bit better about this situation.)

"You could start by grabbing my bag from downstairs," Natsumi suggests, and she really doesn't know how intimidating of a task that is. Staring at a wall isn't exactly mind-clearing, but turns all of his other senses on high. Here he can sit and focus on the sounds of rustling fabric, Natsumi's occasional complaint and the smell of makeup and perfume. Those things can at least keep his mind away from the thought that's ready to eat away at him from the inside.

So he doesn't respond. He just sits there, at least until he hears his sister forcibly clear her throat. "Fucking fine," he mutters, trudging towards the door. He gives Peko a glance as he leaves and she nods at him reassuringly. Had he really looked so desperate? He tries to focus his mind on this as he heads out the door and down the stairs. It's weird, suddenly being by himself, especially since he's been avoiding just that all day. Try as hard as he may to stop it, being alone finally brings that troublesome thought to the forefront of his mind: Koizumi. He hasn't seen her in about a week; not since summer break started, but that's all going to end today. Natsumi invited her to come to the festival with them and strangely enough, she had accepted.

Fuyuhiko knows he couldn't have avoided her for too long, especially considering what good friends she is with Natsumi, but that thought doesn't really make him feel any less stressed about today. If anything, he's angry at himself for getting this worked up despite having expected it.

He's kept quiet since that day in Miss Usami's room; no one knows what happened between him and Koizumi besides the two of them. At least, to his knowledge. He has considered the possibility of Koizumi telling someone else, but if she had, she probably would have told Natsumi, and Natsumi hasn't said a word to him about it. So he's probably okay. Well, he thinks Peko knows, but it seems like Peko always knows about what's going on in his life in some way or another. As long as she doesn't tell anyone (which she never does; Peko works on an oath of secrecy), Fuyuhiko isn't too concerned.

Teru, however, is none the wiser. He's was pretty concerned with Fuyuhiko's behavior during the last few days before break, but that was when Fuyuhiko was forced to sit in the same room as Koizumi for hours on end. Fuyuhiko managed to pass it off as stress over test results and the questions stopped there. So Teru has no idea (and that's mostly because Fuyuhiko thought he could avoid Koizumi under the problem blew over, but clearly that's not the case).

The sound of the doorbell rings throughout the house, and instantly Fuyuhiko feels both wariness and relief. Koizumi is meeting them at the festival, so he doesn't need to worry about that. But he's still on edge as he rushes to the door, twists the doorknob until it opens, and ushers Teru inside. "Morning, Fuyuhiko," Teru greets as Fuyuhiko escorts him into the kitchen, sounding like he's not expecting an answer. "I see you're lively today."

"Yeah, whatever," he replies, abruptly aware of his surroundings and how on edge he must seem and that he's wearing a kimono and he still doesn't know what Teru's going to say about that. He wraps his arms around himself on instinct, turning red under his boyfriend's stare. "Well?" he pushes the word out a little, hoping he doesn't sound like a total jerk, but also hoping it'll get Teru to say what he (sort of secretly) wants to hear.

"You look nice," Teru says, setting his bag down on the table. Fuyuhiko almost wants to be angry at how casually he says it, especially when he can feel his ears burn in response.

"Thanks."

"Are you okay?" is what Teru asks next, and Fuyuhiko feels like he walked into that one. Soften him up, and then delve into his insecurities. Of course.

It's not completely unwanted, though, and Fuyuhiko feels like he should give Teru a little bit of leverage on this one. He's going to find out either way, right? "You know who we're meeting at the festival today, right?"

"Who, Mioda?" he tries, and despite the smile playing on his face, Fuyuhiko gets the feeling that Teru knows exactly who he's talking about.

"No, not Mioda! Koizumi!" He makes sure to watch his volume; his sister is still upstairs, and she's the last person who he wants to know about this. He takes a seat in a kitchen chair, fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands. Instead he settles on rubbing center of his forehead, trying to ease an oncoming headache.

"Did... did something happen?" says Teru's voice, and Fuyuhiko nearly jumps. God, what was he thinking? He is not ready to talk about this.

"What?" he answers on instinct, hoping he can feign innocence and put off the inevitable for just a little bit longer.

Teru gives him a look that, while it looks very worried, tells Fuyuhiko he isn't buying it. "Last time we talked about Koizumi, you weren't that worried at all..." He never breaks eye contact with Fuyuhiko, not even as he pauses, and it's only now that Fuyuhiko realizes how far apart they feel. "Did she—"

"Fuyuhiko! Where the hell is my bag?!" comes Natsumi's voice, booming even from upstairs, and for what might be the first time ever, Fuyuhiko is thankful for his sister's impatience. He grabs Natsumi's floral print pouch from the kitchen table (he had been ignoring it up until now), and makes his way towards the stairs.

"I'll be there in a second!" he calls out, vaguely aware of the way Teru is trailing a few yards behind him, looking like he still has something to say to Fuyuhiko. "I'll tell you later, okay?" he says to him, hoping he doesn't sound as panicked as he feels.

"Okay," Teru echoes back, and the look he gives Fuyuhiko haunts him all the way up the stairs.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, they do meet Mioda at the festival. When they get to their meeting spot (next to a red-and-white soba noodle stall) they're greeted by a whole group of people: Mioda, in a garish purple and pink yukata; Hiyoko, in a blindingly orange kimono; Tsumiki, who's the only one not dressed in a kimono, instead opting for something a little less eye-catching; and Koizumi, who's trying very hard not to look at Fuyuhiko as she smooths out her jade green yukata. "Natsumi-chan!" Mioda cries as they approach, and Fuyuhiko has to fight the urge to cringe, because she really thinks she's on a first-name basis with everyone, doesn't she? "Ah, and three of Ibuki's fellow classmates?" she adds, gaping at Fuyuhiko (and the others, but he knows she's really surprised at his presence). "What a surprise!"

"They're our classmates too, y'know," Saionji grunts, but no one really bothers to say anything in return, because Mioda's already on a roll.

She lets out an ear-piercing screech (is that supposed to be a squeal?) as she nears them, taking Peko by the hand before Fuyuhiko can move to stop her. "Peko-chan looks so pretty in a kimono!" She marvels at the red and navy kimono Peko has on, her eye stopping on each and every flower in its intricate design. "Your's is so traditional-looking; Ibuki love-love-loves it! Ooh, it even matches your eyes!" Fuyuhiko feels his hand reflexively twitch, and it takes all of his strength to stop himself from socking Mioda in the face then and there. Also Teruteru gives him a 'don't-even-think-about-it-just-take-a-deep-breath' look, and that probably helps.

Peko sputters, turning pink at the flattery, and Fuyuhiko wonders if the words, 'I have a boyfriend,' are playing at the tip of her tongue. He remembers some other words of hers: 'I'm bi,' but he casts that thought aside. Peko and Mioda aren't winning "Cutest Couple" in the yearbook; not if he can help it.

"Natsumi," he starts, and he can't her face, but somehow he knows she's rolling her eyes, "what are they doing here?"

"O-oh," Tsumiki stumbles, her already pale face turning white, "a-a-am I not supposed to be here? I can leave, i-if you want..." She steadies herself and turns to escape, but Koizumi stops her with a firm hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Mikan-chan," Koizumi reassures her, and then she turns to Fuyuhiko with an unwavering stare. "Natsumi-chan told us to meet her here. Was this a bad idea?"

It is, and Koizumi must know that, but it's not because of Mioda or Tsumiki or even Saionji. It's that extra factor of surprise. He was so ready to put up with whatever shit Koizumi was going to throw at him, but now she's got her little bodyguards hanging around to keep her nice and safe; like Fuyuhiko was gonna ambush her or something. "No, it's just...," his jaw tightens, and Koizumi must see his frustration, because she stiffens a little (but she does hold her ground, because if there's anything Koizumi is, it's a stubborn bitch), "it's whatever, you know?" He spares his sister a glance, knowing that she'll at least be able to recognize how angry he is with her right now. "She just should've told us, that's all."

Natsumi scowls, but Fuyuhiko can see the way her lips twitch as she tries to hold back a smile. They've been on much better terms since she woke up. "Why, Hiko!" she scolds, voice heavy with false offense.

"Don't call me that—"

"Don't you trust your dear sister's decision-making skills?" She makes an expression that Fuyuhiko guesses is supposed to be a sort of puppy-dog face. It does make him feel a little better, at least until he hears a distinctly shrill laugh, and there's Koizumi again, staring at his sister with bright eyes and flushed cheeks.

And then he's fucking done.

"Fuyuhiko," Peko calls out after him, sounding more exasperated than angry. He doesn't listen; but he does listen when Teru makes a small, distressed sound as Fuyuhiko takes his hand and drags him away from the red-and-white soba noodle stall and across the dark pavement.

"You guys can have your girl time or whatever," he yells back, hardly daring to look back. "We'll meet you later!" He's not sure if he means it, but he doesn't really care.

He doesn't even care that he's still holding Teru's hand in the middle of the crowd.

Or at least, he doesn't until he hears Saionji shout, "Fucking pansy!" at him as they walk away. Teru has a hard time trying to hold him back from running back over and ripping the little twerp's pigtails off, and after that they don't hold hands.

/ / /

"So," Teru chokes out, and Fuyuhiko's almost sure he's just trying to strike up a conversation to distract himself. Fuyuhiko stays as still as he can, but that's kind of really hard to do when he's imagining Hiyoko Saionji's blood painting the walls of this cramped ferris wheel car. He takes a deep breath and tries to relax his muscles, even he's pretty sure Teru's more likely to rock their car with all of his shaking. "You never told me what happened with Koizumi."

This time, Fuyuhiko does move and their car does rock in protest. Teru nearly shrieks, one hand immediately finding the wall, as if that'll keep him safe and secure. He might as well latch onto Fuyuhiko, but now's really not the fucking time for that, even if they are alone. Maybe that's exactly why he doesn't think before he speaks; there's no need to keep all those thoughts bottled up when no one but Teru is going to hear. "Are you seriously asking me that now?" he spits out, and it sounds harsher than he would have liked.

Teru cringes, and Fuyuhiko's instant thought is, Shit, he really doesn't need this right now. But he doesn't have the chance to utter out a quick apology before Teru starts speaking, his shaky hand still glued to the wall of the car. "Well," Teru mutters, and despite the way his voice trembles, there's a bite of venom to it, "you refused to tell me earlier, and I'd really like to know." His posture relaxes, until his shoulders sag and his face is marked with that all-too familiar pout. "It's what I think it is, right?"

"I don't know," Fuyuhiko sighs. His hands finding the bench he's sitting on and he grips it with all his might. He really doesn't want to be difficult, but dammit, he also really doesn't want to talk about this. "What do you think it is?"

Teru doesn't look at him. He stares out the window of the ferris wheel car, which makes Fuyuhiko feel a lot more guilty than he probably should. Teru is terrified of heights; is Fuyuhiko scarier than that right now? "Did she tell you she liked you?"

Fuyuhiko find it's a lot easier when Teru says it, and so it doesn't take long before he gives in and nods. "Yeah. Basically." He leaves out the part where Koizumi said she loved him, because Fuyuhiko figures that makes the situation worse. He lets out a heaving sigh before burying his face in his hands. "This is what you warned me about, isn't it?"

And it's absolutely painful to know that Teru was right (and, by extension, that Fuyuhiko was wrong), especially when Fuyuhiko spent so long trusting that Koizumi's intentions were pure. Like an absolute dumbass, he thinks. He can hardly stand to look at his boyfriend; can hardly stand to address the, 'I told you so,' lingering between the two of them.

"I should have told you," says Teru at last, and Fuyuhiko can feel him staring. He rises his head, slowly coming to meet his gaze. Teru bites his lip absentmindedly, not breaking eye contact for even a second as he begins to speak. "I mean... I had a feeling, this whole time, and I never even warned you..." He blinks a few times and suddenly Fuyuhiko is aware of how glossy his eyes look. "Just because... ugh," he looks away now, his shoulders shaking as he speaks, "I don't know. I knew you weren't going to choose her over me or anything, but I guess... I couldn't help but be scared anyways?" There's a distinctive sniffle; one that makes the pit of Fuyuhiko's stomach drop like a hundred-pound weight. "You're the only one who's ever cared before, and even then, I feel like I can't talk to you... M-maybe it's be... because I'm too scared of losing you?"

A lone tear travels down Teru's cheek, and all at once Fuyuhiko decides there's no way in hell he's letting this happen.

He rises suddenly and the car groans in protest. Teruteru lets out a quiet squeak, gripping to the wall for support, just as Fuyuhiko takes a large step forward. No matter how small he is, he still has to crouch a bit to avoid hitting his head on the metal ceiling, which really doesn't help when the ferris wheel car lurches forward with his weight. Teru actually shrieks this time, pressing his back against the wall of the car, shaking with it. Fuyuhiko nearly lets out a cry at the change in balance, but he can't let that get in his way. He takes one more step and now he's in front of Teru and so he brings his head in just a little bit closer—

Time and gravity catch up with Fuyuhiko at last, and the car shifts again, too suddenly to give him a proper reaction time. For a moment, he feels his feet graze across the metal floor, and then he holds out his arms and squeezes his eyes shut just in time for his palms to hit the wall.

Teru makes another sound, and it sounds far too small for how loud it is.

Fuyuhiko opens his eyes and they meet dark ones.

"Well," he sighs, and he can't tell if Teru finds their proximity comforting or just more stressful, "this works pretty well for what I was going for."

Teru laughs, mostly breath that Fuyuhiko can feel on his lips, which is enough to convince Fuyuhiko to close the distance between them.

Not that he needed much convincing in the first place.

/ / /

They leave the ferris wheel car hand-in-hand, and it isn't until they're halfway across the festival property and he's laughing at something Teru said that he thinks to even ask. "Okay," he starts, wiping away what's definitely not a tear from his eye, "I need to know. If you're so scared of heights, why the fuck did you suggest going on a ferris wheel?"

Maybe it's the giddy mood or the glowing lights that flicker all around them, but Teru giggles. And it's very distinctively a giggle: too small, too delighted, and too unabashedly adorable to be called anything else (even if Fuyuhiko won't say it out loud). "How else were we supposed to get a moment alone?" He winks in Fuyuhiko's direction, and Fuyuhiko replies with a playful shove.

"You're such an ass."

Teru throws him a shit-eating grin. "Sure, but I'm your ass." His grin quickly vanishes as his own words sink in. "Ah, wait."

Fuyuhiko just about cackles at this. "Nope, no! No taking it back now!"

"Fuyuhiko-chaaaaaaaan!"

Fuyuhiko turns his head at the sound of his name being called, and shit. He should have recognized that voice. He lets go of Teru's hand and shoves his own hands behind his back just as the brightly colored girl reaches them, her smile outshining any of the paper lanterns floating around their heads. "Hey, Mioda."

"Ahhhh, we've been looking all over for you!" she squeals, and Fuyuhiko briefly panics wondering who 'we' is before noticing Peko lingering a few feet behind the other girl. Peko, thank god. She'll cover for them if need be. "Peko-chan kept on worrying about where you guys were and what you were doing—I think she was worried you guys were dead or something, hahaha—"

"I was not," Peko cuts in, but it hardly slows Mioda down.

"—so I came over here with her so she'd feel better! Where have you guys been, anyways? Did you get any food?" She stares at them expectantly, and when words don't come to either one of them, Peko takes over.

"She really wanted taiyaki," Peko clarifies, looking less exasperated than Fuyuhiko thought she would have. "I would have bought her one, but my wallet is in your bag, Fuyuhiko."

"Oh, right!" Fuyuhiko starts, hoisting his bag off of his shoulder and fishing in it until he finds Peko's red Hello Kitty wallet. "Fuck, sorry," he says as he hands it to her. "I forgot you didn't bring a bag."

Peko gives him a secretive look as she takes the wallet from his grasp. "I just didn't expect you to rush off like that. But it's alright." She unzips the wallet and pries it apart, flipping through the slips of paper held inside.

From the corner of his eye, Fuyuhiko can see Teruteru shifting back and forth on his feet, looking almost as uncomfortable as he did in that cramped ferris wheel car. "So, uh. Where are the others?"

Mioda opens her mouth to speak, right as Peko swiftly says, "I have two thousand yen. Taiyaki is one hundred fifty, right?"

"Yeah!" Mioda squeaks, and she motions for Teru and Fuyuhiko to follow as Peko walks in the direction of a pink booth with bold writing on it.Just as they reach it, Mioda reaches out and takes Fuyuhiko's wrist and one hand and Teru's hand in another, making the both of them tense. She gives them an exuberant smile as she drags them over to a tented area with tables they can sit down at. Mioda sits down on one side of the table, while Fuyuhiko and Teru sink into seats opposite of her.

"Anyways, like you were saying!" Mioda grins, pressing her fingertips together over the table like she knows something they don't. "Hiyoko-chan dragged Mikan-chan away to go on some rides together. Ibuki's a little worried about them; maybe we should check on them later?" She looks at them unsurely, and waits until she gets a nod from Teruteru before continuing. "And then—and this is part of the reason Ibuki left with Peko-chan—she wanted to give Natsumi-chan and Mahiru-chan some alone time."

Fuyuhiko coughs loudly before he can stop himself, nearly choking on thin air and the smell of fresh food in the air. "Why would you need to do that?" he cries as soon as he catches his breath, but he has a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Mioda looks bemused, to say the least. "What? Ibuki thought everyone knew!"

"Knew what?" Fuyuhiko shouts, and he knows he's being too loud, but this involves his sister, dammit. And if Mioda is telling him what he thinks she's trying to tell him, then that could mean—

To Fuyuhiko's right, Teru stares at Mioda with wide, surprisingly calm eyes. Three feet in front of him, Mioda laughs, like this is some kind of fucked up joke and—

"You really don't know! Ibuki shouldn't assume, huh? It's really obvious, though. Mahiru has a huuuuuge crush on your sister, Fuyuhiko-chan!"

To Fuyuhiko's left, Peko sets down a tray of four taiyaki down on the table with a resigned sigh.

Chapter Text

The first thing Fuyuhiko does, before even stepping past the threshold of Natsumi's bedroom door, is remind himself that he's doing this for Koizumi, despite the burning sensation in his stomach that tells him to back out immediately. Maybe then he can stay normal, for just a moment longer.

But, despite his apprehensions, he's already made up his mind and no amount of self-loathing is going to stop him. Mioda knows now—Fuyuhiko felt like he hardly had a choice in explaining the situation to her in full after she had shed such light on some of the darker corners of it. Of course, this meant three things:

1. He didn't have much longer to keep his relationship with Teruteru a secret. Despite Mioda's open and inviting persona, general ease with people, and her own admitted pansexuality, their exchange at the festival told Fuyuhiko that she couldn't keep a secret for her damn life. She was a ticking time bomb, and there were some people that Fuyuhiko needed to discuss this with on his own terms.
2. Natsumi, now more than ever, had a right to know. If he had told his annoying classmate about this, there was no way he wasn't telling his little sister. He had waited so long to do this, told him he needed to come out to her on his own terms, and now here he is, waiting at her door. Still, he can't stop his hands from shaking.
3. He'll have to tell his parents soon, too. Dear God.

And then there's the important thing, the biggest reason he's doing this, as well as his ulterior motive: to, if possible, ease a confession out of his sister as well. It was underhanded; he knew that, but that had never stopped him before. His parents had taught him that life was a dirty game, and ever since then he'd been picking locks, talking his way out of detentions and sneaking peeks at other kids' test papers. People could call him angry, violent, or irrational all they wanted, but they could never deny that he was clever.

Besides, this might mean something to Koizumi, someone who had provided Fuyuhiko solace and had all but promised to protect his sister with his life, and someone who he had abandoned in her time of weakness. He owed her an apology to say the least, but if Fuyuhiko had any experience with apologies, it's that his actions seemed to be more effective than his words. If a fucking comb could give him and Teru something so great, he's sure this conversation could give Koizumi and Natsumi something even greater.

He's busy taking a deep breath when Natsumi notices him, frowning at him over her history homework. "Do you need something?" she spits, and since it's pretty clear he does, she sets her pencil down and sits upright. Her tone is nothing less than fucking rude, but she's at attention, so Fuyuhiko decides he might as well get it over with.

"Uh, yeah," are the first words out of his mouth, and he tries to look less awkward as he steps into her room and shuts the door behind him. After that, he spends a good while staring at his feet and trying to figure out what to say, despite having practiced this in his head more times than he can count. Well. So much for not looking awkward.

"Seriously, Fuyuhiko, I have homework to do," Natsumi bites, curtly gesturing to the papers and books laid out of her bed. "If you're just gonna stand around and fiddle with the end of your shirt, can it wa—"

Fuck it.

"I'm dating Teruteru," he blurts out, and it's followed by what might be the worst silence of Fuyuhiko's life. No matter how much he might deny it, Natsumi's opinion is important, and the longer Fuyuhiko stares at the ground the harder it is to breathe, like icy hands are constricting themselves around his throat.

He waits nearly thirty seconds before looking at Natsumi to gauge her reaction—confused, but not as disgusted as Fuyuhiko was worried about or as surprised as he had assumed. "Okay," she says slowly, as if she's just waiting for him to leave so she can finish her homework. Betraying her tone is a follow-up question, "So what, you're gay?"

Fuyuhiko tries not to react; tries not to give himself away with raised shoulders or averting eyes, because it's always been a "probably," but he can't stand here and lie to his little sister. Not when he's already being this open with her. "I guess so."

Natsumi reacts with pinpoint predictability: her brow furrows in a mismatched mixture of annoyance and perplexity before she repeats, "You guess? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" It's not the most tactful response, but Fuyuhiko's parents didn't raise a tactful family. Natsumi's scathing response is about as normal as it gets in this house, which comes as quite a relief.

"It means I've never really been into anyone before Teru," he sighs, finding a spot to sit at the edge of Natsumi's bed. She changes her posture to match his; sitting upright and swinging her legs over the side of the bed perpendicular to his. "And it took me a fuckton of time to figure it out, anyways."

At this, Natsumi grins, toothy and impish. "I can believe that. You're about as thick as they get, bro," she teases, and that's really all the acceptance Fuyuhiko ever needed.

He doesn't feel the need to give her the usual elbow in response to her insult, so he just grunts and tries to hide the smile that's tugging at his lips. "What I'm saying is that I don't have a lot to base this on. But for now I've got Teru, and I don't care enough about girls to say I'm bi or anything, so."

There's something in Natsumi's eyes that reeks of recognition and nostalgia, and by the time Fuyuhiko realizes where this is going it's far too late. "What about Hinata?"

I thought we agreed to never bring that up ever again, is what he wants to say, but what comes out instead is a low groan. He really regrets his stupid elementary school crush on Hajime Hinata, but mostly he regrets ever telling Natsumi about it, even if he had been nine and it had been in the safe confines of a pillow fort an hour before bedtime. He really, really regrets giving her something to use against him, especially at a time like this. "I was in like second grade. I was a stupid kid; it doesn't count."

At his blunt refusal, Natsumi looks almost offended. "Hey, you were the one who said you needed more people to base your sexuality on, or whatever. I'm just trying to help." There's a flicker of vengeance on her face before she continues with, "Besides, you had it bad. There were drawings of him on the fridge and everyth—" Okay, that's enough. He doesn't need a recap on his embarrassing childhood crushes today. 

"I was there, Natsumi, I don't need to fucking hear about it again." He's a lot madder than the situation warrants, so he pulls himself to his feet before he can make things any worse. Pissing off Natsumi is not what he came here to do. He did what he came here to do, and now—

But did he really?

Right, Koizumi. Shit.

Is there even a tactful way to go about asking about something like that? 'Hey Natsumi, I just poured my heart out to you, so can you start feeling obligated to do the same?' 'Natsumi, my friend is interested, so do you like chicks?' No matter how he tries to word it, it just sounds like none of his business. Natsumi doesn't owe him anything just because he worked up the nerve to tell her the truth. He of all people should know that, especially with the new knowledge of just how nerve-wrecking coming out to a family member is (no story on the internet could ever do it justice).

He starts towards the door, trying his best to reel his thoughts back to his previous mindset. He's not going to stay here and put up with this shit; he's done, he doesn't want Natsumi trying to prove to him what he is, he's out of—

"It doesn't really matter to me, you know," comes Natsumi's voice from behind him, sounding more secretive and secure than what he's heard so far. "Whether you're gay or bi or whatever. I don't really get it, so it's not like I can judge, right?" There's a long pause, and Fuyuhiko can hear the quiet clink, clink of her fiddling with her mechanical pencil. "Just be careful, okay?"

He makes sure to look her in the eyes and give her his best grin when he says, "I've handled worse."

She grins back, holding her mechanical pencil tight in both hands. "By the way, I called it from the moment I saw him. You know I did."

Fuyuhiko has to reach across her bed to grab a pillow to whack her with. But it's definitely worth it. Wasn't it all really worth it?

(And for now, he won't think about his sister's silence, he won't think about how she 'doesn't really get it,' and he definitely won't think about Koizumi. He'll give himself a well-deserved break.)

Chapter Text

It doesn't last long. As it turns out, shit is like that is hard to keep out of your head. Fuyuhiko stays up half the night, unable to drift to sleep with all of the thoughts that are weighing his mind. Toss and turn as he might, his mind is still too busy for rest. Okay. Maybe if he sits down (lays down?) and sorts his thoughts out, he can do this.

At the very least, it's worth a shot.

So, what does he know? Well, he knows that Koizumi confessed to him and that he couldn't reciprocate because he was (still is) dating Teruteru (secretly). That much qualifies as common knowledge in Fuyuhiko's world. He also knows that Koizumi confessed to him because she actually liked Natsumi (and probably still does), which means...

Wait. Does he even know that? The only information he has to go off of is from Mioda, and she's probably not the most reliable resource... But contrariwise, she knows Koizumi a lot better than Fuyuhiko does or even plans to, so it's more likely that she'd know something like this...

Fuck. He needs better evidence than this. He turns over onto his back this time, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of his room and focus on the dim ceiling. Well, at the very least, there has to be someone who knows. If not Mioda, then there has to be someone who can explain this bullshit to him. Natsumi and Koizumi are practically attached at the hip as it is, but the girl had other friends. Like Tsumiki, Mioda, and...

God dammit, he knows what he's going to have to do.

He rolls over on to his side and presses his forehead against the cold wall, trying to take steady, even breaths. Is there any known method of preparing yourself to converse with a blonde demon?

/ / /

The next morning, Peko tries to call Fuyuhiko while vomiting, he has to walk to school, and Fujisaki trails him the whole way there. "Okay, seriously. What are you doing?"

The footsteps behind Fuyuhiko stop abruptly, but quickly pick up when he doesn't turn around and look. Fujisaki is by his side in seconds, clutching a book to their chest and smoothing down their school pants. "W-well, Peko is sick—um, you probably already knew that—and I was around, s-so she told me to keep an eye on you..."

Fuyuhiko can't help but furrow his brow at this. "You were around?"

The look on Fujisaki's face tells him he's being a little overprotective, but most people aren't just at their girlfriend's house at seven in the morning for no particular reason. "Well, I... That is, um...," they stammer, trying and failing to hide their rapidly reddening face.

"Whatever," he quickly amends. This is probably something he doesn't want to know the answer to. "I know you wouldn't hurt her," that would probably be impossible, considering your size, "so it's...," he can feel his ears heating up, "it's fine, okay!?"

Fujisaki nods so violently their hair ends up in their face.

"Great. Are you going to follow me around all day?" It's not until Fujisaki's eyes turn wider than saucers that Fuyuhiko decides it's probably in his best interest to rephrase that. "I mean, I don't mind! I just have stuff to do today."

Fujisaki considers this. "I can't follow you into class, anyways...," they furrow their brow in a way that would make Peko swoon, "or into the bathroom..." They look at Fuyuhiko decisively. "Okay. I'll only follow you around during break and lunch!"

"Is that really any better!?" he blurts out, louder than he probably should, and he's kindly rewarded by a six foot tall shadow blocking out the sun from behind him.

"This kid bothering you, Chihiro?" And Fuyuhiko goes still because that definitely isn't Mondo Oowada standing behind him (it definitely is). He takes a second to take in his situation: Fujisaki is frozen in place and Fuyuhiko's really not sure if he trusts them to speak up if things go south; Fuyuhiko himself is carrying a bag full of heavy books and like fuck was he thinking about running away in the first place (he totally was); and Oowada is staring at him with a look that lets him know he's toast, he's totally dead meat, he won't even have time to write his will, and all over a petty little misunder—

"Kyoudai! Now is not the time to be conversing with your fellow students! We are dangerously close to being late!"

Fuyuhiko has never been happier to hear Kiyotaka Ishimaru's voice in his life. Actually, this is probably the first time he's ever been happy to hear his voice. He's gotten enough detention from the guy to start considering him a bad omen. No matter how often Peko tries to weasel him out of it, she always fails. It turns out the only one with a stronger will than her is him, and all in the name of peace and rule-abiding and schoolwork. He's safe.

"Kiyotaka!" Fujisaki cries as he runs towards them, and they rush over to meet him half way. Great, he's doubly safe. "I was just talking to Kuzuryuu-san because Peko wanted me to watch him today because she's sick and we were just talking and I was being bothersome and he got upset l-like he should and then Mondo came over and, and, and...!"

"Chihiro, I, ah...," Ishimaru gives them a sheepish smile, looking terrified and impressed all at once. "Could you... slow down? It's a bit hard to understand what you're trying to tell me..."

Oowada, on the other hand, looks like he got the gist of it. "You mean he wasn't giving you any trouble?" He reaches over to rub the back of his neck, which is a shade redder than it was before. "Damn. My bad, Kuzuryuu."

Fuyuhiko settles with just saying, "Sure whatever," really quickly, because it at least makes him sound dismissive while he's still trying to slow his heartbeat down.

"Look," Ishimaru starts, already tugging on Oowada's sleeve so he can drag him off to class, "I know you want to spend time with your friend, but we have a test this afternoon and—"

"Right!" Fujisaki squeaks, their cheeks finally losing their eternal flush. They turn around to face Fuyuhiko again, bowing deeply before addressing him directly. "I'm so sorry, Kuzuryuu-san! I-I forgot I had planned a study session today! Um, y-you can handle yourself, right...?"

With anyone else, Fuyuhiko would have snapped, because of course he can handle himself, he's a grown fucking man. But this is Fujisaki. "I'll just tell her you did it," he tells them, and he doesn't know if they've ever looked happier.

Ishimaru's red eyes narrow at the mention of lying, but he doesn't waste time in dragging Oowada off with him, loudly calling for Fujisaki to follow. And if Fuyuhiko doesn't notice the way the pair's fingers intertwine as they rush across the cracked sidewalk, he definitely notices the look Fujisaki gives him; the look that tells him he should.

Chapter Text

Lunch honestly isn't as quiet as it should be, considering only half of the usual group is present. It probably doesn't help that Fuyuhiko and Teruteru tend to carry the conversation in the first place; Teru with his so-called charisma and Fuyuhiko with lots of exasperation and maybe some yelling. And they certainly don't have problems holding a conversation on their own, even if communication has been fairly turbulent in the recent past. So while lunch isn't quiet, it is comfortable (and it includes his boyfriend's cooking, which is always a nice bonus).

Conversation flows easily between, Of course I made the pasta from scratch, I'm a Hanamura, to, Did she seriously call you while puking? And while they never shy from throwing insults across the table at each other, it's all playful and friendly and so, so natural. Fuyuhiko doesn't know when he got used to this, but there it is: laid out so clearly in front of him, reflecting off some imaginary glass surface for only his eyes to see.

And there's the imaginary hammer, inches away from his fingertips, ready and waiting to shatter the good mood they have going. Fuyuhiko finds it's about time he took it.

"I'm gonna talk to Saionji today," it comes out as little more than a whisper, but it catches Teru's attention in the empty air of the home ec room and that's really all it needed to do. "You know. About...," he doesn't need to say it; they both know what he's referring to and there's no need for a fucking recap, "the thing."

The look he get from Teruteru tells him that the young cook thinks he may have lost his goddamn mind. How very kind. "Saionji?" he repeats, furrowing his brow in that way he does whenever he's questioning Fuyuhiko's decision-making skills or suggesting he might be jumping into things too quickly (like he often does). "Are you sure she's, like... the most reliable source for... I don't know, anything?" And Fuyuhiko must admit, he has a point there: Saionji is a lying, scheming little bitch, but everyone knows that. When you've completely spent the "sweet girl who can do no wrong" schtick, there's not much else you can hide behind; at least not when you're Hiyoko fucking Saionji. There's not a single person on this campus who doesn't have an inkling as to what she's really like, and lying really loses its touch when it's exactly what everyone expect you to do. Fuyuhiko would know.

"What better option do I have?" is what he says, balancing a rather triangular piece of beef on top of his chopsticks. He watches it struggle to stay afloat, precariously rocking back and forth on its tightrope-like base. "Mioda's apparently told me all she knows, Satou's in juvie or some shit, and talking to Tsumiki's a disaster I'd like to avoid." His hand veers slightly to the right and the triangular beef falls back into the bento box he'd been eating out of, landing in a soft bed of rice with a pathetic little plop. "Obnoxious as she is, she's kind of my last hope." Probably helps that she's clearly holding some sort of torch for Koizumi, he almost says, against his better judgement. It really doesn't give a shit about how Saionji feels about the redheaded photographer in question. That's her business, and he'd rather not hear about it.

(It would be funny though, and rather sickening, if he's being honest with himself. Maybe just from the sheer coincidence of it: to think there could be another blond little shit in this school struggling just as much as he was. Still is. Dammit.

That's all theoretical, though. Like he would even care in the first place.)

Teruteru smiles at him, no matter how minutely, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that's almost sad. "Just be careful," is all he says, and it echoes loud enough to make Fuyuhiko's stomach churn.

He's really worrying too much.

And for once, he tells him that. "Stop saying that." He jams a chopstick straight through the triangular beef napping on its little rice bed and holds it out for Teru to eat. Teru ignores it, or maybe he doesn't notice it at all, because he hasn't taken his eyes off of Fuyuhiko for a second. "Seriously," he sighs, lowering the skewered meat a little as he rests his chin in his palm. "It's always, 'Be careful, Fuyuhiko.' 'I'm so worried about you but I won't tell you why, Fuyuhiko.' I'll be fine, Teru. Saionji's a little bitch, but I can take her."

Something flashes in Teru's eyes; something Fuyuhiko doesn't recognize until it's much too late. "You sure? I heard she fights dirty."

"Gross," Fuyuhiko groans, pushing the chopstick past his lips to shut him up.

/ / /

Trying to catch Saionji after class is an ordeal in and of itself. The little brat seems hellbent on scurrying off as quickly as possible and taking the most convoluted pathway to the music room possible (and maybe, thinks Fuyuhiko, that's the point). By the time he's caught up with her, he's panting and sweaty and she's got this little grin on her face that Fuyuhiko would smack off if he wasn't so damn tired. "I was wondering how long I could keep you tailing me," she seethes, her eyes glazing over with something awful. "Creep."

"Don't make me puke on your shoes," he spits back, still breathing hard as he straightens his spine and stands upright. "You're the absolute last person I'd come running to for something like that."

"And yet here you are." Fuyuhiko didn't think it was possible for someone shorter than him to look down on him, but the look Saionji's giving him is contemptible. "What do you want? And make it quick; I have practice." She juts her thumb in the direction of the music room and Fuyuhiko just barely stops himself from asking why she'd take so long to get here if she had dance practice. Of course. The less free time she has to spend with him the better. He can't say he doesn't share the sentiment, but that really isn't doing him much good right now.

It doesn't give him much of a choice but to just come out with it. "What the fuck's going on with Koizumi?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth he knows he's said the wrong thing. One look at Saionji's face tells him all he needs to know.

"What the fuck's going on with you?!" she seethes, wrapping a tiny fit around Fuyuhiko's uniform tie and tugging hard. Fuyuhiko feels himself stumble forward, trying to balance himself until he's mere inches away from Saionji's prickly little mug. "I'll tell you what's going on," she says in little more than a whisper, pronouncing the words like they were acid burning her tongue, "Koizumi's a wreck and it's all your fault, bucko!" She punctuates the last word with a hard kick to the shin, and while Fuyuhiko winces he finds it's awfully hard to find the willpower not to fight back. 

Instead, he decides to push his luck. That is, he opens his mouth and lets the back talk fall right out. "She seems just fine to me," he retorts, not trying for a second to hide the way he grits his teeth when he grins.

He considers himself lucky Saionji doesn't reel her fist back and let it collide square with his jaw. Or maybe she's the lucky one; it's more likely she'd hurt herself more than him trying to punch him. Instead, she rewards him by talking his damn ear off. "You're so oblivious, you know that?! After how long she's had her eye on you, and you never even noticed...! She adores you, and yet here you are, taking it for granted like the worthless bitch you are! Don't you know how many people would kill to be in your place, you stupid whore, you little bitch, you worthless girl—"

Fuyuhiko almost falls backwards when Saionji lets go of his tie, but it doesn't matter. The words have already left Saionji's lips and now she looks at him wide-eyed, both hands over her mouth, cheeks red in lingering anger and newfound humiliation. She doesn't bother trying to backpedal; it's far too late for that. Fuyuhiko stares back, trying hard to fight the satisfied grin tugging at his lips. No matter how bad he feels for Koizumi, he can't help but feel awfully smug at the way Saionji's backed herself into a corner. "You know, last time I checked, I'm not a fucking girl," he growls, giving Saionji exactly the reaction she had expected (and relishing in the way she glares at him, looking absolutely disgusted with herself). "Now stop pretending I'm my sister and tell me what's actually going on."

Saionji sputters at this, her cherry red face alternating between rage and shock in instants. "Wh-who... who told you?!"

For a second he considers selling Mioda out, but after how much she's helped him he hardly thinks she deserves that. "Figured it out myself," he bluffs, and the urge to twist the knife takes over him before he can stop it. "A lot of people would kill to be in my place, huh?" Saionji grimaces, and he can't help but take pride in the way her face turns from white, to pink, to red again.

"Shut the fuck up," she mutters, her glare steadily drilling holes into the floor. But there's a hint of resignation in her face; a touch of weakness that lets Fuyuhiko know he's won. "Is this what you came here for? To mock me?"

Fuyuhiko gives her a look. "What, like I have a goddamn death wish?" He doesn't realize this is somehow reassuring until Saionji breaks her staring contest with the floor, shooting him an impish grin.

"Nah, I guess not. You always seemed more like the type to get yourself killed doing something stupid."

A year ago, Fuyuhiko would have snapped, called her a bitch, and stormed off. Now he knows better than to take the bait. "Gee, thanks. But I got what I came here for."

At this, Saionji smiles, looking genuinely happy with the knowledge that she'll be rid of him soon. "Great! You can leave anytime!"

"I was planning on it," he retorts, but he's only just turned to walk away when she calls out to him.

"You're not gonna tell her, right?"

He definitely could. He won't deny the thought is tempting, but he's all too ready to be done with this shit. After today, involving himself in Koizumi's love life sounds like the last thing he'd want to do. "Like I said, I don't have a death wish," is what he tells her, even if this conversation has just about diminished any fear he had of her. "But if you ask me, you should go for it. Don't worry about my sister; she's not interested. I don't think she even knows."

Saionji narrows her eyes at him, but he can see her hands shaking. "And why the hell should I listen to you?"

He doesn't look at her. "Because I get it."

He walks away with even steps, feeling Saionji's eyes on his back the whole time. Like her, his hands shake.

Chapter Text

“You really should apologize to Koizumi, you know,” Peko says, her voice muffled against the pile of blankets draped over her body.

This time, the words do not catch Fuyuhiko off-guard; in fact, he expects them so much that he can't help but give Peko a look of complete exasperation from his spot perched on the edge of her bed. "What do you think I've been trying to do?"

Beneath her blanket mountain, Peko frowns. "I don't know. I've been here all day." She stares at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, and even though the deafening silence of the room Fuyuhiko hears the words she doesn't say. "I'm stuck."

Gently, he reaches out and rests his hand palm-down on the top of her head. Her hair is out of its signature braids, her bangs matted and stuck to her forehead while the rest of her long locks splay out over her pillow. It tangles easily as she tosses and turns under the covers, and Fuyuhiko moves his hand down to run his fingers through her hair in a way he hopes is comforting. Peko's eyes shift to meet his, wide and questioning. "I don't want you hurting yourself for me," Fuyuhiko tells her, his fingers stopping at a particularly troublesome knot. "Fujisaki wouldn't, either."

At this Peko makes a small noise of protest, turning until she's facing the wall, her back to Fuyuhiko. She's silent for a long while, and Fuyuhiko waits, working at the tangle with gentle hands until it finally comes undone. "I shouldn't have put so much focus on Chihiro," she mutters against her pillow. "I was supposed to look after you."

Fuyuhiko heaves a long sigh, letting Peko's hair fall back to the pillow as he moves his hands to rest in his lap. "I can take care of myself, Peko. I don't need you to be around all the time." When he gets no response, he continues, his words steadily speeding until he can hardly control them. "You deserve to be happy too, you know. Just because I've got problems doesn't mean to have to drop everything just to try and fix them. For fuck's sake, Peko, I'm seventeen now. I need to learn how to deal with my own problems instead of relying on you to save my ass every damn time! Fujisaki is good for you, so don't you fucking dare—"

"I'm not going to break up with them." Peko shifts in bed until she's facing Fuyuhiko once more, but her eyes are still downcast. "I just feel like if I hadn't rushed into things with them, maybe... maybe this," she motions to the space between them, to the palpable tension that hanging in the air, to the recognized issue looming over their heads, "wouldn't have happened."

"Bullshit," Fuyuhiko protests, loud enough to get Peko to look at him again. "This is my problem, Peko. I went and fucked myself over. And now I'm gonna fix it." He scowls at the way Peko's hands fist in the bed sheets, stiff and shaking. "I really appreciate all that you've done for me, and I'm sure I'll appreciate your help in the future. But please." He moves his hand to rest gently over hers, and he feels her relax under his touch. “Take some time to take of yourself for once.” The last part he mutters, not bothering to hide the snideness in his voice, “We both know you don’t do it nearly enough.”

Peko may have softened under his touch, but she stays resolutely still, almost as if she’s waiting for something else. It doesn’t take a genius to realize what that something is.

“I’m going to talk to her,” he reassures her. “And I was going to whether or not you told me to, okay?”

Peko sighs, but she rolls over in bed to face Fuyuhiko again, her eyes tired and unfocused. “Just don’t screw it up,” she mumbles, and Fuyuhiko doesn’t even bother concealing his laugh.

He decides he likes sick, tired, slightly delusional Peko.

/ / /

He finds Koizumi in Miss Usami’s room halfway through lunchtime on Friday. He’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be ironic, somehow, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before her head perks up at the sound of the door opening and her eyes land on him.

“I… didn’t know you still ate lunch here,” he says, stupidly. “Alone,” he almost finishes, but he has a feeling that would have just made it worse.

Koizumi’s gaze lands back down on her sandwich (peanut butter and jelly, it looks like, with the crust cleanly cut off). “Um,” she starts, oh-so eloquently. “Only sometimes. When I need some time alone.” A pause. “To think.”

Fuyuhiko shuts the door behind him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second. “I’m guessing you’ve needed a lot of that lately, huh?”

Koizumi’s jaw tightens, and for a long second Fuyuhiko worries he’s done something wrong, and that he’s going to be chased out of the classroom with Koizumi swinging her lunchbox at his head. But then Koizumi opens her mouth and time returns to its normal speed. “Look, I didn’t mean it,” she says suddenly, turning in her chair to face him fully. Her face falls as the harshness of her words hit her with full force. “Okay, that sounded a lot worse than I thought it would. Like, obviously you’re an alright guy, you spent all this time helping me out and everything, and I guess that’s the problem, really.” She places her sandwich neatly on top of her napkin and sighs, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of her nose. “I guess… I thought… I had to like you. But I don’t. So…,” Fuyuhiko can see the effort it takes to force the final words out of her mouth, “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For… getting your hopes up, maybe.”

“Trust me, you didn’t,” he mutters, an instinctive bit of snark, but when Koizumi’s fiery eyes land on him, he quickly backpedals. “B-because I’m gay, I mean!” Perhaps a bit too quickly.

But it seems to work wonders, because Koizumi’s face instantly softens. “Oh. That’s convenient, then.” Shyly, she lowers her gaze to her hot pink nails. “And a bit of a coincidence, if I’m being totally honest.”

He tries not to smile. He fails, but still pretends he’s keeping a straight face anyways. “You too, huh?”

She nods. “Yeah. I…,” she swallows whatever words she had in her throat. “Yeah.”

There’s a moment in which Fuyuhiko acknowledges what an awful idea this might just be, but that moment passes in an instant. “Natsumi, right?” It’s only two words, but those two words make Koizumi nearly leap out of her seat, sitting up straight as a ruler (and far, far straighter than her sexuality, as it turns out).

“Um, I-I—” Her cheeks are turning an incandescent red and her eyes are wider than Fuyuhiko has ever seen them. She almost looks frightened .

...Does she think Fuyuhiko is going to be protective or something? It’s not like Koizumi is a bad girl or anything—he’s sure if Natsumi was actually into girls, Koizumi would be the perfect catch—and even if she was some kind of punk or delinquent, it’s not like Natsumi herself is much better. Besides, shit like that is Natsumi’s business. It isn’t his place to get involved.

After a few seconds of open-mouthed gaping, Koizumi finally seems to find her voice again. “Ugh, how did you know?” she mutters, and despite her bitter tone she looks thoroughly humiliated.

“You’re not… super subtle,” Fuyuhiko admits, and while it’s the truth, he’s also leaving out the part where he was an oblivious idiot. And the part where Teru was the world’s most paranoid and insecure boyfriend. And the part where Mioda didn’t know when to keep her goddamn mouth shut. And the part where Peko made the right decision to stay thirty feet away from everyone else’s drama. But it’s at least part of the truth; the part of the truth she needs to hear right now. “I mean, seriously. Asking her out to all of those movies, bringing presents for her after she woke up, delivering her homework every day? Hell, you were with her in the hospital before I even knew anything had happened. And the purple clip-ons? If you wanted to impress her, you could’ve been a little less—”

“Okay, okay, I think I get it,” she cuts in, holding up a hand to stop him. “Geez…” She’s trying to sound annoyed, but she’s red all the way up to the tips of her ears now.

Fuyuhiko shrugs, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants. Strange, how quickly this conversation went from tense and awkward to a playful, teasing exchange between friends. (Is that what they are now? Friends?) “I’m just saying, you were kind of obvious.” And he was kind of equally dense for not seeing it much sooner.

“Oh really?” Koizumi grits her teeth, and Fuyuhiko can see the challenge in her eyes. “Because I’m sure you’re super subtle about your guy-crush.”

“I must be,” he spits right back, “since you apparently had no idea that I’m dating Teruteru.”

It’s like he can see her entire world stop on its axis. “You’re kidding, ” she whispers after a long moment of silence, her eyes wide as saucers. “I mean, I guess you guys kind of got close all of a sudden, but I never thought… I-I just figured…” She presses her lips tightly together, seemingly forcing herself to think her words through before she says them. “For how long?”

He actually has to think about it. “Almost three months, now. So probably not as long as you’re thinking.”

“Okay, yeah,” she sighs, her body deflating as the words exit her mouth. “I was thinking as far back as the time he was over when I wore the clip-ons…”

Just the very mention of the clip-ons sends Fuyuhiko tumbling back into reality. Right. Natsumi. And Koizumi’s crush on her. The reason he’s here in the first place. “Uh, so…” He clears his throat. “Look. It really fucking blows that I have to be the one to tell you this, but Natsumi…” He tries to think of a way to put it gently (which he really should have thought of before he started talking, but so much for forethought), but Koizumi interrupts again before he can continue.

“...Isn’t into girls, right?” She turns back to her lunch, picking at her sandwich with delicate fingers. “Yeah,” she mumbles, and while she’s sitting up straight as possible, Fuyuhiko can see her throat constrict. “I figured.” She takes a deep breath, blinking wildly as she lets out a shuddering exhale. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

Fuyuhiko watches her fiddle with her lunch for at least ten more seconds before deciding that, no matter how awkward he might make things, it can’t get any more awkward than watching Koizumi try not to cry over her unrequited feelings for his little sister. “Hey, actually…,” he starts, making his way across the room until he reaches the desk adjacent to hers, “I might know someone who’s interested.”

She stares up at him with a furrowed brow and glossy eyes. “I really hope you’re not joking.”

He pulls out the chair from behind the desk and makes himself comfortable. “As long as no one finds out I told you, I’ll speak nothing but the truth.”

/ / /

He spends the night at Teru’s house, and it’s only after hours of video games with Shio and Kosho and a batch of brownies baked with Mimi that he gets the chance to tell Teru what happened with Koizumi.

“So I guess everything worked out, then,” he whispers, his face only inches away from Fuyuhiko’s. They’re packed into Teru’s tiny twin-sized bed, and while Fuyuhiko would never admit it, this might just be the first time he’s thankful for how petite he is.

“Yeah,” Fuyuhiko agrees, quietly admiring the way Teru’s smile shines bright even in the dark. “Or, it will.” Time will only tell if Saionji’s feelings will be reciprocated, after all (Koizumi’s reaction held hope, but it was plain to see the poor girl was conflicted). And if she won’t murder Fuyuhiko in his sleep. “Including us, if we’re lucky.”

“Mmm,” Teru hums, closing his eyes and curling up against Fuyuhiko’s chest. Fuyuhiko wraps a careful arm around him, appreciating the warmth. “You gonna tell your parents soon?”

Fuyuhiko almost doesn’t want to answer. But no matter how scary the thought is, he knows it won’t be nearly as bad as he’s picturing it. “Yeah… I mean, Natsumi took it well enough. I figure if they’re dicks about it, I still have her to back me up.” Over these past few months, he’s learned he’d be willing to step into hell if it meant protecting Natsumi, and he has a funny feeling the sentiment is shared.

“And my family,” Teruteru points out, holding back the smallest of yawns. “They really like you, you know.”

“Trust me, I can tell.” He would have to be really dense not to notice that. Mimi squeals when he walks through the door, Kosho tells him embarrassing stories about Teru, and Shio even lets him be player one sometimes (which he was informed is quite the high honor). And then there’s Teruteru’s mom, who Fuyuhiko is pretty sure knew they were dating before Teru even told her. She knew her son’s feelings for him from the beginning; that much is for sure. And she accepted Fuyuhiko as a potential boyfriend for her son long before the two of them met face-to-face. It was nice to be placed with that amount of trust. A little anxiety-inducing, but nice. He’s going to try not to fuck it up.

“And Pekoyama,” Teru continues, as if he hadn’t heard Fuyuhiko at all. Maybe he didn’t; the slight slur to his words gives away just how tired he is. “And Fujisaki... and Koizumi now too, huh? And…,” there’s a pause, wherein Teru wiggles in Fuyuhiko’s grip until he can properly look him in the eye again, “and me.”

They stay there for a long moment, the darkness wrapped around them like a comfortable blanket, before Fuyuhiko finally breaks the silence. “I love you,” he says, barely a breath in the quiet of the room. “I know I don’t say it often enough, but… I really do.” And he wishes he knew how to say it without feeling completely and utterly awkward, but it’s a work in progress. They’ve got all the time in the world.

Teru stares at him, kneading his bottom lip with his teeth, clearly trying to force certain words off the tip of his tongue. “You don’t need to say it more often,” he says at last, meeting Fuyuhiko’s eyes. “I know you do. I feel like…” He averts his eyes shyly before rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I feel like, for the first time in my life, I know that someone cares about me for sure. I don’t have to worry that they secretly hate me, or that they’re talking about me behind my back, or just saying things to make me feel better. I…,” he looks back to Fuyuhiko now, his face soft, “I actually know that you love me. I don’t have to question it.”

Fuyuhiko doesn’t reply, at least not with words. He’s not sure what he could say. Instead, he reaches up to cup Teruteru’s cheek, silently bringing their faces together. “I don’t do that often enough, either,” he murmurs as he pulls away (but only barely, so that he’s speaking the words against Teru’s lips).

“You could always make up for lost time,” Teru whispers, grabbing fistfuls of Fuyuhiko’s worn-out pajama shirt.

Fuyuhiko sighs and happily obliges.

They’ve got all the time in the world. Better use it wisely.

/ / /

The weekend passes by far quicker than Fuyuhiko would have liked. One second he was falling asleep with Teru in his arms, feeling as if the whole world couldn’t stop them, and now he’s rooted firmly in front of their classroom door, feeling like his heart might just burst out of his chest. Not that he’d ever say it out loud, of course, but… he can at least admit it to himself now.

He can hear the commotion from where he’s standing: Souda and Tanaka loudly arguing, Mioda’s ear-piercing squeals, a belch from Owari and a hearty laugh from Nidai… even the upbeat chiptune music surely coming from one of Nanami’s game devices. Class starts in exactly two minutes. Everyone must be in there at this point. Everyone except for Miss Usami, and...

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Teru reminds him, sounding just as worried as Fuyuhiko feels. “We can wait until tomorrow. Or as long as you need to, really…” Fuyuhiko isn’t sure if he’s nervous to go in there too, or if he’s just scared Fuyuhiko might back out. It doesn’t matter either way. Fuyuhiko’s never been more sure of any decision he’s made in his life.

“No. I…,” Fuyuhiko swallows, wiping one of his sweaty palms against his uniform pants, “I’m ready. As long as you are.”

At that moment, the smile that took over Teru’s face could have lit up an entire city. “Of course.” He turns back towards the door, and Fuyuhiko knows, no matter how brave he might try to act, he’s not going to be the one to make the first move. No, he’s done that far too many times already. This time, it’s Fuyuhiko’s step to take.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door with his free hand, gripping Teruteru’s hand tight with the other.

ACT III END

Chapter Text

“How much longer is this going to take?” Fuyuhiko asks, and Natsumi pauses in painting a pink stripe on Teruteru’s left cheek.

She fixes him with a very tired look. Fair enough; they’re up way too early and she already spent a good forty-five minutes on her own makeup. “I just started, calm down.” She has little green, yellow and grey flags painted on her own cheeks. Aromantic, she’d explained to Fuyuhiko. It means I don’t get all of that lovey-dovey stuff.

“I don’t mind,” Teruteru tells him. “We still have plenty of time before it starts.”

“Yeah!” Natsumi enthusiastically agrees. “Besides, didn’t you say you didn’t even want to go before? Because you seem pretty eager about it now.”

Fuyuhiko crosses his arms and sinks into the couch a little more. “Whatever. I just wanna get this over with.” He opted to dress without any of the usual rainbow fanfare—that’s just not his style—but he’s lying when he says he’s not even a little bit excited about it. Sure, he’s going to be surrounded by people—happy, cheering people—but they’re his people now. And he hates to admit it, but… he likes the idea of being included in something for once.

He’s still pretending to stew in furious silence when a knock sounds at the door. “That’s probably Peko,” Natsumi says, as if Fuyuhiko wasn’t thinking the same thing. “Go and let her in.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” he mutters, as if he wasn’t already getting up by the time she said it. Teruteru gives him a knowing smile, and Fuyuhiko flips him off.

Of course, that just makes Teru laugh, and Natsumi has to put a hand on his shoulder to make him sit still. “Sorry,” he mumbles, turning a little red.

As soon as he reaches the door, he opens it (maybe a little too eagerly, Natsumi’s right). Sure enough, there’s Peko, wearing a t-shirt with the phrase “Bi-Furious” on it. She’s accompanied by Fujisaki, unsurprisingly, but what is a surprise is—

“Fuyuhiko-chaaaaaaan!” Mioda practically mows the two of them down so she can wrap Fuyuhiko in a big, unwelcome hug. He is never going to be used to this girl, he thinks. She’s decked out from head-to-toe in neon pink, yellow, and blue. She looks like a walking eyesore, but he bets she’ll fit in just fine at the parade.

He shoves her away, but she steps back without stumbling at all. “Don’t fucking touch me all of a sudden!” he shouts, but it hardly seems to faze Mioda.

She immediately moves past him and further into the house, making a beeline for Natsumi. “Ooh, are you doing face-painting? Me next!” She pulls up a chair and sits down right by them. “I wanna be pan buddies with Teruteru-chan!” Fuyuhiko sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on.

Lucky for him, he has Peko around to provide him some peace. “Saionji and Koizumi said they’ll meet us at the train station with the others.” Fuyuhiko nods. Peko was the one who thought to organize all of this in the first place. He isn’t at all surprised by her organizational skills, but he is surprised she stood up and decided to do it all by herself. She’s really branching out, he thinks.

“They’re a really cute couple,” Fujisaki says, their eyes bright. “You did a great job with that, Kuzuryuu-kun.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko tears his eyes away from Fujisaki’s grateful expression, feigning ignorance. “I told you, I had nothing to do with all of that.”

Their look wavers. “Really? Because that’s not what Peko—”

He’s about to snap at Peko for handing out that kind of information (even if it was to her partner), but he’s cut off by a loud shriek from Mioda. “Oh my goodness gracious! Teruteru-chan, you look absolutely adorable! Even more adorable than Ibuki!” Wait, was that supposed to be a squeal? Could have fooled him. Either way, Mioda is practically rough-housing Teru out of his seat as he wraps him up in a great, big hug.

Okay, now he’s found something he can lose his temper about. He rolls up his sleeves and marches towards her, as if he’s actually going to kick her ass (he knows she’d probably kick his ass in a fight, but he can pretend). “Mioda! That’s my fucking boyfriend you’re tossing around like a ragdoll!”

Mioda glances at him curiously, and in the process she loosens her grip on Teru and drops him to the floor. He lands on his feet, which is good, because it means Fuyuhiko doesn’t have to worry about him too publicly. “What? Ibuki wasn’t treating him like a ragdoll at all! Like a teddy bear, maybe, but definitely not a ragdoll!”

“This isn’t about the comparison!” he groans. “Just…,” he sighs and shoves Mioda back towards her chair, but she moves like she merely nudged him, “get your face painted and shut the hell up, will you?”

She pouts, but sits down anyways. Probably only because she wanted to get her face painted in the first place. “Don’t act like Ibuki has an off switch!”

“Trust me, if you had one, I would have found it by now.” He’s been looking.

Finally, Teru steps between the two of them, looking like he’s finally regained his balance after being shaken around so much. “Now, now. You two don’t have to fight over me.”

“We weren’t.”

“Yeah! Ibuki wouldn’t step on Fuyuhiko’s man! Especially when he’s so territorial.”

“What?! I am not —”

“Like a hippo! Or a rhinoceros! A really little rhinoceros!” Mioda is very fortunate Teru grabbed Fuyuhiko’s hands before he actually tried to strangle her. No matter how much progress he’s made, joking about his height still seems to be an easy way to set him off.

Fujisaki giggles, pulling out another chair at the table to sit. “That does sound a lot like him.”

There are some people, though, that he doesn’t dare lay a hand on. Even if it’s just because Peko would kill him.

“Ugh,” Natsumi takes her makeup brush away from Mioda’s face. “Mioda, you have got to stop squirming around.”

“Ibuki told you, she has no off switch! It’s adapt or die!” Natsumi seems to take that as a challenge, because she just scowls and goes right back in. That’s his sister, alright.

When he glances back at Peko and Fujisaki, he notices the latter’s eyes darting around the room, not unlike a flighty animal. “Are you sure your parents are alright with all of us being here?” The question sounds like an innocent concern about noise complaints or making too much of a mess, but Fuyuhiko sees it for what it really is. “Are your parents okay with all of this? Are we safe here?”

“They’re fine,” Fuyuhiko reassures them, trying to sound casual about it. He’s trying not to remember how terrified he was, not only telling them he was gay, but that he’d been dating a boy for a good six months without their knowledge. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but the outcome was far better than he’d anticipated.

Not that he’d expected them to kick him out of the house or anything. He would have kept his fucking mouth shut if he figured he was in that kind of danger. It’s just that he expected stubborn disapproval that would slowly warm into reluctant acceptance, not… what he got.

He’s not complaining, though. Obviously.

“Alright, I’m done!” Ibuki practically jumps out of her seat the second Natsumi pulls away from her. The flags on her cheeks are a little messier than Teruteru’s, but Fuyuhiko is sure she did her best.

“Koizumi and Saionji are heading to the train station now with Hinata and Komaeda,” Peko says, staring down at her cell phone. She starts to rise from her seat, and Fujisaki is quick to follow suit. “We should probably do the same.”

“Right.” Fuyuhiko checks his pockets as he stands up, making sure he has his wallet and his phone. “Teru, you good to go?”

“Uh, yes!” He takes a few steps toward the kitchen. “Let me just grab everyone’s lunches…”

“Need any help?”

Teru gives him a sly look. “Well, I’d sure like some…”

“Never mind, help revoked.”

“Oh, come on!” he whines. “The bag is heavy!”

Natsumi chokes out a laugh. “And you think my brother can help you with it?”

“You know what? Just for that, I’m going to carry it by myself,” he decides, marching into the kitchen. He can see Natsumi winking at his boyfriend, as if to say, “You’re welcome,” but for once he isn’t bothered.

The truth is, he wanted to help out anyways.