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This is the third-worst day of Gakushuu Asano’s entire life.
The second-worst had been when he was nine years old and returned home from school with a red 96 scrawled across the top of his test paper. His father asked him at dinner if he was satisfied with his grade. “Yes!” he’d answered cheerfully. It had been the wrong answer. Gakushuu knows better now. Everything is about unlocking his full potential, and his father had understood, back then, that ninety-six out of one hundred was not the best you can do.
The first-worst day had been the exam he took not two weeks ago. A three-point difference between him and that -- that -- creature . There is really no way Karma Akabane could be human, Gakushuu had concluded. Not someone as demonic and cruel and brilliant as he is. He’s Satan himself, probably -- it would explain the red hair.
This boy, this force of energy, this walking manifestation of chaos, is the one who’s making this the third worst day of Gakushuu’s life right now. He’s the one sitting across from Gakushuu, in the basement of someone else’s house, at a party neither of them should be at. He’s the one who had taunted Gakushuu here in the first place, with a carefree grin and a lilting just think about it as he pressed an address into Gakushuu’s hand.
And now Gakushuu’s somehow sitting in a ragtag circle on the dingy basement floor, a couple other 3-E students next to him and Karma sprawled on the ground opposite him. “Hey,” Karma says languidly, his flashing golden eyes boring into Gakushuu, and Gakushuu just knows he isn’t going to like whatever comes out of Karma’s mouth next -- “Why don’t we all play truth or dare?”
“I don’t know, guys...” Nagisa says quietly from his spot next to Karma.
Nakamura throws an arm over his shoulders. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Here, I’ll go first. Give me a dare, Nagisa.”
“Uhm…” Nagisa stammers. “How about… why don’t you, um, do a dance or something?”
“Oh, come on,” Nakamura says playfully. “When I said give me a dare, I meant make it good . That’s so tame, Nagisa.”
“Yeah,” Karma chimes in. “You should make her chug a jar of wasabi or something.”
Nakamura’s eyes light up. “I’ll try that! Got it on you?”
Karma pulls a jar out of what seems like thin air and tosses it at Nakamura. “Knock yourself out,” he says, grinning devilishly.
Gakushuu really should get out of here, find Ren or Seo or someone and escape from this madness. He makes to push himself off the ground, but meets Karma’s golden eyes from across the circle and suddenly feels held in place, like those amber pools have pulled him in and he’s drowning -- “Asano, leaving so quickly?” Karma drawls. “Play with us for a bit.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” Gakushuu says, not breaking eye contact -- hell if he’ll be the first one to look away -- “I have places to be, unlike you, Akabane.” (Next to Karma, Nakamura’s downed the wasabi. Her face is turning an alarming shade of red.)
“One truth or dare won’t hurt,” Karma smirks. “How about… I dare you to drink the contents of this jar?” He pulls out a container of a mixture suspiciously similar to the one he had given Nakamura earlier.
Gakushuu rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, wasabi again? And here I thought you would be more interesting, Akabane. Give me something a little better, would you?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Gakushuu’s stomach drops -- he feels like he’s one of those cartoon characters who are still running when they look down and notice there’s no ground beneath them anymore -- then they plummet. Maybe he should have just taken the wasabi.
Karma’s smirk widens, and his eyes flash. “No wasabi, eh? High standards, Asano. Well then, what would you like to do? Truth or dare?”
Gakushuu grits his teeth. Karma’s hair has a slight, almost ethereal, glow in the dim light, and his amber eyes shine like a cat’s. The devil, for sure. Gakushuu’s chest feels tight. He won’t play Karma’s game. “Truth.”
“All right, then, Asano~” Karma leans back on his hands, tipping his head back and exposing the pale line of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he speaks. “Let’s make it more interesting, shall we?” He leans forward, grin turning shark-like. “Out of everyone here, who would you like to kiss the most?”
Gakushuu blinks. Looks around -- there’s Nakamura, face still red but grin almost as wide as Karma’s; Nagisa, arms around his legs, watching them through his bangs; and of course, Karma, staring up at Gakushuu through slitted golden eyes, the line of his jawbone stark against the shadows on his neck.
He could lie, but -- “Actually, I’ll take the dare.” Gakushuu says, pointedly staring at Karma’s blazer rather than at Karma’s eyes, or the slope of his nose, or his pale pink lips --
“Aw, you’re no fun,” Karma pouts. He looks ridiculous. Gakushuu doesn’t raise his head to look at the way Karma’s bottom lip juts out, soft and wet. Definitely not. Three of the buttons on Karma’s blazer are undone.
“Since you refused the truth, we have to make the dare harder!” Nakamura pipes up. “How about we make him actually kiss someone in this circle?”
Nagisa raises his head slightly. “No, that’s too related to the original truth… sort of like cheating. Let’s make him pretend to propose to someone instead. No kissing required.”
Gakushuu revises his assessment of Karma in his head from devil to demon ringleader . Is everyone in class 3-E as malevolent as Karma is?
Karma lights up. “That’s a good idea, Nagisa! Asano, dare you to pretend to propose to me.” His grin, if possible, becomes even sharper. Karma has edges like cut glass -- everything about him is piercing.
Gakushuu doesn’t know if it’s the charged, heady atmosphere of the room, or the way Nagisa and Nakamura are watching him expectantly, or the way Karma is smirking wickedly, the sharp edges of his grin catching themselves in Gakushuu’s chest and burying in deep. But for whatever reason, Gakushuu meets Karma’s eyes, then gets down on one knee. “Akabane Karma.” he deadpans. Takes a breath. “I don’t like your wasabi, or your red hair, or the way your uniform is always messy. You might be the ringleader of a demon circus, for all I know. You must have put me under one of your strange occult charms or something, because I don’t know why I’m saying this, but… will you marry me?”
Gakushuu’s looking directly at Karma as he says this, so he witnesses the minute widening of Karma’s eyes, his brief intake of breath, the slight pinkening of his cheeks. It’s the first time since this party started that Karma’s lost his composure, even for a second. This close, Gakushuu realizes that Karma’s eyes aren’t piercing like cut glass, like he thought, but actually are the million small crystals of pieces of shattered glass, reflecting light in a dazzling incandescent rainbow.
Nakamura half-shouts gleefully, “Dare you to accept the proposal, Karma!”
Gakushuu doesn’t break eye contact. Karma blinks languidly, then the corners of his lips turn up softly. Karma’s red hair looks soft in the dim lighting, and his eyes flicker with a promise. “Of course I’ll marry you, Asano. You’ll make a perfect bride.”
Gakushuu’s about to sputter a witty retort when Karma suddenly swoops in and lands a soft, feather-light kiss on Gakushuu’s cheek. Gakushuu feels heat spread from the point of contact. “Come on, you can do better than that,” Gakushuu scoffs in an effort to draw attention away from his rapidly reddening face. Realizes his mistake too late --
Karma fists a hand in Gakushuu’s collar and pulls him up, crashing his mouth against Gakushuu’s. Gakushuu parts his mouth slightly, and tangles his fingers in Karma’s hair -- it is soft, he thinks deliriously. All he can focus on is the feeling of his hands in Karma’s hair, of Karma’s hands coming up to cradle Gakushuu’s cheeks, of Karma’s mouth against his--
Karma pulls back, and Gakushuu almost chases after his mouth before remembering himself. “Well. Not bad, Akabane,” he manages to say breathlessly.
Karma still hasn’t let go of Gakushuu’s collar. “Do I deserve a diamond ring now, Asano?”
And something about that makes Gakushuu’s insides feel cold, and before he can think about it, he opens his mouth -- “Dare you to call me Gakushuu.”
Karma’s eyes crinkle with his smile. “All right, Gakushuu,” he says, the syllables of his name rolling off his tongue slowly as if he’s testing them out. “Call me Karma.”
“Karma,” Gakushuu says. “Kiss me again.”
He does.