Chapter Text
Planning anything, let alone a party, has never been one of Ikuya's favorite things to do. It's stressful work, and he'd much sooner be doing literally anything else, but for the sake of friendship, he tells himself to suck it up and get to work.
Sure, he does find himself questioning his and Kisumi's friendship whenever the latter takes to annoying him (which is more often than Ikuya would've liked), but he's not that big of a jerk to not even take the effort and do something nice for the salmon-haired boy on his birthday.
At least he isn't the one left to do any of the actual planning. Poor Makoto had ended up having to volunteer when Ikuya admitted his severe dislike for tasks involving management skills.
No one trusts Asahi enough to let him be the one in charge because of how often his excitement gets the best of him. And, of course, Haru needs no mentioning.
They know that Haruka cares about his friends, but his dislike for bothersome things puts Ikuya's own disdain for party-planning to shame.
So while Makoto handles things like venue and catering and decorations with Haru's assistance, Asahi and Ikuya (reluctantly) agree to team up and prepare a guest list.
The pair later realizes just how much of a Herculean task this is when they see the size of Kisumi's contact list.
"I knew this guy was popular but..." Asahi trails off, his eyes as wide as saucers and a certain awe that borders on horror in his voice.
Ikuya swallows. "What is this-- the entire population of Tokyo?" He pauses and scrolls further down, then adds, "Iwatobi too, by the looks of it."
Setting the phone down like it's a ticking time bomb, Asahi rubs at his eyes. "We're gonna need a bigger party hall."
"A stadium might do the trick," Ikuya suggests, only half sarcastic because they just might actually need to figure out how to rent a stadium.
With a deep inhale, Asahi sits up straight, visibly pulling some determination out his seemingly infinite supply. "Right," he mutters, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders, "we can do this. We push ourselves everyday. This is fine. Let's give Kisumi the best party ever!"
Ikuya wants to argue-- this is definitely not fine by his definition, and the challenge is beyond people as inpatient as the both of them are, but he holds his tongue and only scoots closer to peer at the offending phone screen.
"How did you even get your hands on Kisumi's phone?" he asks after a moment, pausing in jotting down Kisumi's most frequently called's numbers.
Sheepishly, Asahi rubs the back of his neck. "I stole it when he wasn't paying attention. He has basketball practice for all of today, so he isn't gonna notice it missing until evening. I'll slip it back by then. Somehow. I hope."
Ikuya stares for a long moment. "If we get arrested for this, I'll kill you," he says finally and Asahi immediately goes to protest loudly but is cut off by his sister bringing their drinks over to them.
"What even are you both doing?" Akane asks, raising her eyebrows at them, which is how she often looks at her younger brother.
Sighing, Asahi relays their problematic chore to her and she tilts her head.
"Why don't you ask (L/n)-chan for help?" Akane asks, her tone suggesting that the both of them are stupid. She shakes her head at them and then leaves them to their own devices so she can check on the other patrons of the cafe.
Blinking in confusion, Ikuya turns to Asahi but the redhead is too busy slapping his own forehead and grumbling to himself to notice.
"(L/n)?" Ikuya prompts, managing to get Asahi's attention.
"She's Kisumi's childhood friend," the redhead states. "How come I didn't think of (Y/n)?" he mutters in contempt to himself. Asahi pauses, looking at Ikuya with furrowed brows. "You don't remember her? She was in Makoto's class during middle school. We hung out with her a few times during lunch, I think, but she mostly kept to Kisumi and Makoto from our group back then."
Thinking back to middle school isn't really Ikuya's favorite thing to do, but he doesn't say that because he doesn't want to sound like he's guilting Asahi. He hadn't ever really bothered focusing on many people outside of the little circle their relay team formed and maybe a few other club members, but now that he's trying to recall, he thinks he can vaguely remember a girl with (h/c)-hair hanging around Kisumi when he wasn't with the boys.
Probably the only reason he does remember her is because he had felt stunned that someone actually spent time with the salmon-haired boy without the latter basically forcing himself into an unrelenting presence.
"I think I do," he says slowly. "Are they still close?"
Asahi waves his hand. "Oh, yeah. If anyone knows who Kisumi would like at his party, it's (Y/n)."
Resting his arms on the table, Ikuya raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're pretty close with her as well."
"You bet!" The answer is instantaneous and accompanied by a wide grin. "Kisumi and I kept in touch even after I moved away, so naturally, (Y/n) just kind of got added to the mix. We hang out sometimes-- the three of us. She's really cool."
'When do you even get the time?' Ikuya wants to ask, but refrains. It's not like he'd know much about maintaining long-distance friendships. He's never had to, especially not when he had been so insistent on isolating himself because he thought it would make him stronger.
Before Ikuya can even process it, his redheaded friend is enthusiastically typing away on his phone, presumably asking this (L/n) (Y/n) for her help. When Asahi looks up grinning, Ikuya knows they're saved.
He smiles. "Success?"
Asahi nods, looking pleased with himself. "With (Y/n)'s help, we'll be done in no time. She says she can come over now." His grin falters when he catches sight of the flash if discomfort across Ikuya's face. "You haven't met her in forever, right? It's okay if you don't want to. I'm sure we'll be able to sort it out."
As grateful as Ikuya is for Asahi's consideration, he hesitates. "Won't that be rude?" He bites his lip, fiddling with his fingers.
But he can already imagine how awkward it'll be if he stays. Asahi and this girl are obviously fairly good friends, which makes Ikuya the odd one out and he's bad enough with people when he isn't feeling extra uncomfortable.
"(Y/n) doesn't even know you're here. If you leave, it won't be a big deal." Asahi shrugs. "It's cool either way. If you wanna stay, she'll be fine with that too."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ikuya stands up, fluidly putting the money down for his drink and gathering his stuff. "Thanks, Asahi," he says. Neither of them are usually this kind to each other, but Asahi's looking out for Ikuya right now and he can appreciate that without being a total jerk-face.
With a wide smile, Asahi flashes Ikuya a peace sign and that's all before the latter exits the establishment with a wave goodbye to Akane.
"I guess I'll be on decoration duty then," Ikuya mutters to himself as he texts Makoto. It's practically a consolation to not have to put himself out of his comfort zone.
Silently, he utters his thanks to whoever this (L/n) girl is for getting him out of guest list duty. He doesn't know her, but he decides that if and when he does meet her, he'll figure out a way to make it up to her.
Ikuya finds himself a little (very much) dazed for a good portion of Kisumi's party.
To begin with, he hasn't even been to very many parties in his lifetime, which sounds sad now, but at the time had been a good decision for the sake of his swimming career. The few parties he did attend were for the sake of attending, wherein he spent most of his time lingering around the outskirts of the crowd and then left as soon as he could.
For once, however, he finds himself at the center of it, at the very heart of all the warmth and noise, and he thinks his chest might explode from all the euphoria he's experiencing. Joy is such a beautiful emotion once he allows himself to feel it. And in the moment, with the candles illuminating some of his favorite people, off-key singing and noisemakers in the background, and brilliant smiles on everyone's faces, Ikuya lets himself laugh and smile with them.
The cake is sweet. The company is sweeter.
But once the euphoria has died down, the group ends up splitting and Ikuya gravitates towards the chairs placed by the walls of the small party hall they'd rented. As usual, he finds himself hanging around the corners, swimming in the isolation he has created for himself.
This is fun too, though, he decides. There's a vague sense of belonging in this room even as the familiar unsurety rears its ugly head. Ikuya is still a little tentative around any of his friends that aren't Hiyori. It's something he's been working on, but any process of healing is slow, and he admits to himself that every so often he faces little setbacks that he's trying so hard to beat.
With an unopened can of diet cola in hand, he finds himself studying the occupants of the room. Haruka's impassive face as he listens to Makoto and Asahi's animated chatter, the flush of Kisumi's face from the glow of happiness that doesn't leave him, someone sneaking away like Ikuya has done on more than one occasion before, and a pair of (e/c) eyes that meet his from across the room.
The contact is so sudden that Ikuya flinches in surprise, and the girl he locked eyes with looks amused at his reaction. Or, well, he thinks she does. It's hard to see much of her across the room when her side is so poorly illuminated.
Under normal circumstances, he would've looked away before things got awkward or he got deemed a creep, but the girl doesn't look away either and he's intrigued enough to hold her gaze just to see where this goes.
They stay like that for a minute or two, and Ikuya doesn't understand what he's expecting out of this aside from a brief form of entertainment, but he definitely isn't expecting the girl to stand up and start making her way across the room to him.
As she nears, he can practically read the curiosity in her eyes, and wonders if they're mirroring his own in the silent questions they ask that he cannot decipher.
"Hello," the girl says when she's reached him, a small smile accentuating the pretty features that he couldn't make out from across the prior distance between them.
There's no more distance now. She sits beside him, looking absolutely at ease with herself, so much so that he wants to ask how she does it, but he finds himself distracted by the strange familiarity about her that nags at his brain.
"Not to sound like a flirt," Ikuya begins hesitantly, "but have we ever met before?"
The girl inclines her head and studies him for a second before nodding.
"I think so," she says. "Weren't you at Iwatobi Junior High?" When he nods, she hums, closing her eyes like she's in deep concentration before she snaps to attention with a self-satisfied grin that has him watching her expressions change in fascination. "Kirishima-kun, was it?"
He blinks and nods. "Kirishima Ikuya," he supplies, just in case she doesn't remember. He bites his lip uncertainly before venturing, "(L/n)-san, right?"
Honestly, he doesn't remember too much, and he prays that he's right so he doesn't have to face the horrifying awkwardness of getting her name wrong.
But she smiles and nods, laughing under her breath when he visibly relaxes in relief next to her.
"It sure has been a while, huh, Kirishima-kun?" She leans back in her seat, looking so unaffected by the atmosphere of the party that Ikuya wonders how he hadn't noticed her before. "Kisumi told me you moved to America after middle school. Must've been fun."
He glances at her from the corner of his eye and shrugs. "I wouldn't call it fun so much as a learning experience," he corrects and frowns in confusion when her lips twitch in amusement.
"That feels like a very fitting answer for you, Kirishima-kun," she remarks, and his eyebrows rise.
"Are you suggesting that I'm predictable?" Ikuya asks, playfulness that he doesn't usually express around strangers making an appearance in a move that is uncharacteristic of him.
But (Y/n) grins. "I wouldn't dream of it," she assures, grin widening when he snorts in disbelief of her statement.
"You're a childhood friend of Kisumi's, right, (L/n)-san?" he asks after a moment. "Shouldn't you be hanging out with him instead of lingering around the edge of the room?"
She hums in consideration. "Probably," she concedes, "but this isn't really my scene. Kisumi knows as much. He was surprised I showed up at all instead of visiting him during the day instead. I'm not particularly used to being around so many strangers."
He nods. Ikuya can relate to that, and when he tells her as much, she shoots him a quick smile that manages to make him feel at ease. The vague sense of belonging becomes clearer with this stranger as they make remarks and counters like it's some sort of game between them.
It's fun, he thinks, and hands (Y/n) his still unopened can of cola, remembering that he had wanted to thank her for being the reason he got out of having to make a guest list with Asahi. However, as they easily converse now (which Ikuya believes is no easy feat when he is involved), he admits that had he stayed that day, it wouldn't have been as awful as he feared then.
When it's time for him to go so he can still get a bit of an early start the next morning, Ikuya goes to inform Kisumi and bid all his friends goodbye, the warmth of his connection with all of them enveloping him like a blanket of comfort.
Not for the first time, Ikuya wishes he'd seen sense earlier and let them into his life sooner. He thinks he might've been happier now if he had done so.
"Heading out?" (Y/n) asks when he returns to his seat at the edge, a pleasant smile greeting him and adding to the warmth in him.
Ikuya nods in response, and she stands as well, walking him to the exit in a silence during which he wonders if she plans on leaving with him.
"I'm no good at saying goodbyes," she says finally, an honest little glimmer in her eye that he thinks is cute. "I never know what to say."
He tilts his head as he considers this. "Is that why you're walking me to the exit?"
(Y/n) makes a noncommittal sound. "Actually, I figured I may as well leave too. I love Kisumi, but I've stayed past my limit and schedule allow."
"You must be busy most of the time." She'd already told him that she didn't attend university because she had gone to a specialized school for performing arts and straight to work as a music producer after graduating. Ikuya gets why Asahi said she's incredibly cool.
"I am, but it's not so bad," she offered with a shrug. "It could be worse. At least I'm not an idol-- those poor kids barely have time to breathe, and they can't even show how tired they are to the public."
He hums, even though he doesn't know a whole lot about idols and their lifestyles. But he guesses that some of them might be friends of hers and that she's expressing genuine concern for them, so he lets her.
"Well, Kirishima-kun," (Y/n) says, dropping her arms to her sides with a sense of finality as she offers him an awkward little smile that he returns. "This is it, I guess. I had fun hanging out with you tonight, so thanks for saving me from a possibly boring birthday party."
Rubbing at the back of his neck, he nods in acknowledgment. "No problem. You kept me company too, after all. I guess, I'll see you around, (L/n)-san."
And that's it. They turn their backs to each other and head in opposite directions, having said their goodbyes to conclude the nice time they'd had together, but something doesn't quite sit right with Ikuya.
It feels incomplete somehow. Like he ought to have said or heard something, but he can't figure it out so he keeps walking.
Until she calls out his name, that is, making him whirl around with wide eyes to be faced with her standing some 20 feet away, grinning brightly at him before she says something that immediately clicks into the place that had been feeling hollow, making him smile with flushed cheeks.
"It was enchanting to meet you!"