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That's all it is. Curiosity.
At least, that's what Nanao tells himself.
Truth be told, over the course of his numerous rotations around the sun, this is a feeling he struggles most to label, struggles most to feel in all its eternity — all its purity, all its atrocity. Not for it being something he's yet to experience, for it is a familiar sentiment that treads into new, uncharted territory. Despite not appearing so, Nanao prefers conventionality over anything. Anything beyond that is a frightening feat to venture into and this situation before him is exactly that. It's new and so scary. It makes the hairs on his back of his neck rise and sends a chill down his spine. It's overwhelming, yet enchanting.
As Nanao looks past the ruby leather menu clasped in his hands, directly across him is Kirisaki High School's kyudo club Vice President, Daigo Sase. He's beaming a fair amount, cheeks tinted in hues of watermelon pink and crimson red as his aura radiates a happiness Nanao can't ignore. To him, it's fascinating to see how others aside from himself, express their joy in terms of concepts or topics they're enthusiastic about. In Nanao's case, it's could be narrowed down to girls and baseball, whereas that same interest lies in Daigo in the form of Princess Cheer's Noririn. It's endearing really; how the azure of his eyes sparkle like a jewel held in sunlight at the trivial mention of Noririn, how his tone is bubbly and upbeat (and his words a bit rushed), how relentless his desire to share his passion with others is, particularly when his eyes meet Nanao's and he has to take a moment to compose himself. He's captivating, and Nanao, for life of him, cannot look away.
When the shared kyudo boys' meeting comes to an end, Nanao finds himself coming up with a quick (and maybe lame) excuse in regards to traveling back home with Onogi, stating that he's running late for another date, to which Onogi rolls his eyes and waves a dismissive hand as he walks off, stooping as he grumbles to himself. Nanao can only release a breath of laughter before he sharply turns, eyeing Daigo saying his goodbyes to Kirisaki's kyudo club president, Motomura, and departing separately.
Perfect, Nanao thinks. He's alone.
So, Nanao, as nonchalant as possible, attempts to catch up to Daigo, keeping their encounter casual and as non-creepy as possible whilst simultaneously turning on his day-to-day charm. "Your knowledge on Noririn is as impressive as ever, Sase-san."
Daigo, being the taller of the two, slightly peers down at Nanao, uncertainty knitting his eyebrows together as he says, "you're the chevalier from Kazemai."
Nanao smiles, just a bit embarrassed that Daigo doesn't know his name of yet. "Kisaragi Nanao, but you can call me Nanao!"
Smooth save, Nanao.
If there was any trace of apprehension in Daigo, it has vanished as Nanao observes his athletic figure lose its stiff posture, shoulders centimeters away from his ears as a slow smile grows amongst his features. Nanao cannot resist but take in the gradual smile with every bit of attention he has.
"Nanao-kun," Daigo starts, testing the syllables on his tongue, to which Nanao internally celebrates for establishing an environment comfortable enough for Daigo to make quick use of his first name. "That was mere child's play. There's so much more information that I couldn't fit into the study guide I gave you guys - didn't want to scare off potential chevaliers."
Realization dawns on him. "Well, what I thought were potential chevaliers."
He heaves a huff of disappointment, enough to elicit an entertained chuckle from Nanao before he responds. "Sorry, maybe we should have made that clear from the beginning."
Daigo lifts his hand, fingers enveloping the magenta Noririn fan he frequently carries. For a moment, as they walk in a direction Nanao is unable to determine where they may go, Daigo peers down at the fan with a reflective gaze, briskly followed by abashment tugging ever so slightly at the corners of his lips and dusting his cheeks with the warmness of a sheepish blush.
"You probably did," Daigo admits, voice small and reserved. He turns to face Nanao, and just as a large gust of wind blows, his eyes crescent with the twinkle of the stars and his syrup brown locks flow, frame encompassed with shamrock leaves that dance circles around him. Nanao's breath catches in his throat and with unexpected familiarity, his heart is sent into a series of flutters.
"I just tend to get carried away with Noririn."
It's true, he does get carried away with Noririn. To the point where some may consider it weird or even, worse case scenario - obsessive. However, as for Nanao, the peculiar interest has grasped his attention, bringing about interest that was non existent prior to today, for in many ways, there is a sense of relatablity in particular interests that grab us at our core and ignite the light of enthusiasm that daily life extinguishes to an ash. Therefore, to Nanao - this is what he thinks draws him to Daigo: the sensation of a shared identity, the relatable circumstances that repeat amongst the two. That's it.
Or at least, what Nanao says to himself.
In reality, this instantaneous attentiveness has many layers, layers that require the tentative and reflective look into himself, which for a lack of better words - he'd rather consume a kyudo target under thirty minutes than do. Too many unknowns, too much disappointment, too many truths he isn't willing to accept. As a result, like he does his smile, he plasters a false label over the complexities of himself, of the situation, discarding that disaster for another day - whenever that is.
"Everyone gets carried away with something," Nanao makes sure to mention, rescusing Daigo before he can drown in the dreadful sea of insecurity. "You get carried away with Noririn, I get carried away with the Climax series, Kacchan gets carried away with kyudo-"
Nanao catches himself, bearing a meek smile. "Oops, pretend like you didn't hear that last part. Kacchan would kill me if he heard that."
"Kacchan?"
"Kacchan," repeats Nanao, fingers flexing as they imitate the claws of a fierce animal. "You know, our grumpy ass omae who had a bit of scuffle with your Young Knight, Fujiwara Shu."
Daigo's face lights up in recognition, an airy snicker falling into a closed fist he holds close to his lips in a halfhearted attempt to conceal it. "I remember him. You guys seem really close, especially if you're calling him a grumpy ass,"
"Even if he's family," Nanao places both hands behind his head, taking a good look of cerulean hue of the sky and how it so effortlessly blends to an almost missable cantaloupe orange. "I won't spear him the wrath of my honesty."
"Family?"
"Cousin," he replies, refocusing his attention back onto Daigo, whose eyes are already on him. Nanao has to clear his throat in advance of speaking again. "Anyways, where are we going?"
"The Split Bean," Daigo replies, referring to the upscale cafe not far from their current location where his many girl acquaintances go for the opportunity to flood their followers' timelines with aesthetic pictures. "They're hosting a Noririn event there. Care to join?"
At that moment, the sun shines a bit brighter and Nanao feels a bit closer. Closer to Daigo, closer to whatever he's pursing. "Why not?"
-
By the time the two reach Split Bean, the primarily latte colored establishment illuminates with shades of tangerine and tiger orange, the cheerful and cute sounds of one of Princess Cheer's songs pouring out of the doors as they open, accompanied with the homely aroma of fresh pastries and brewed coffee. At this point, Daigo is already vibrating at a frequency unheard of with the excitement shooting through him like electricity. Before they even enter, he's taking photos, the clicking sound going on and on mixed in with a few squeals. Nanao leaves him be, scouting the area and encountering surprise with how many tones of pink can possibly occur in one space and how they compliment each other so well. Props to those who decorated the store, because judging by the heavily populated presence of mostly male chevaliers with grins up to their ears - this event is a huge success.
When Daigo finishes taking his collection of photos, the two are courteously escorted to a free table where Noririn stickers overlay the porcelain white wooden table, minimal and pleasing. They order off the menu designed in her honor, much like the food and drinks and gifts they receive for their order. Once they've completed their order and their waitress leaves, Daigo can hardly stop gushing.
"I can't believe how good this place looks," Daigo's eyes are everywhere and nowhere all at once, marveling in pure amazement at the coffee shop with the enthusiasm of a child - eyes bright and hands in tight fists, skin a dull macaroon color from the excessive passion within him. "It's almost like a dream!"
Nanao hums in lively agreement, chin sandwiched between the palm of his hand as his eyes, too, fall into crescents, the lightness of his limbs and the tapping of his feet to an easy beat a telltale of the happiness he feels. Everything about this moment in time feels so good, so right and if it was up to Nanao, he'd never let it end.
"I'm excited to see how the pancakes you ordered will turn out," Nanao announces. "How close do you think the pancake will actually look like Noririn?"
"Noririn's perfection cannot be replicated," Daigo proclaims almost immediately, chest puffed out and index finger held up high. He then shimmies his gingerbread brown blazer off his shoulders, the movement of his muscles underneath his white dress shirt engrossing, Nanao studying his anatomy as if he were a sculpture enthusiast. "But, I'd like to see how close they come."
"Me too." and just when Nanao says that, their waitress returns with both of their drinks and meals. It's beyond him how she manages to carry all of this, but she does so flawlessly, no evidence of spill nor a struggle as she beams with the same enthusiasm as an cheery idol onstage and hands over the orders.
"So fast," Nanao cannot help but comment, the comment welcomed with a bright smile from their waitress, who tucks her milk chocolate hair behind her ear.
"That's what we pride ourselves on," she giggles before she politely bows before them. "Please enjoy your meal and if you ever need anything, please feel free to call me."
"Of course," the two assure in unison, smiling in sync with and at one another.
Their waitress departs and as soon as she does, Nanao finally has the time to take in the appearance of his food. No wonder girls come here often, Nanao thinks. The food served here not only looks appetizing, but looks like it was taken straight from a food magazine. The fluffiness of his strawberry cake, buttermilk in color, is so soft and delicate and the additional lemonade pink of the generous cream and ruby red strawberries is enough to make him drool. His dalogna coffee is pretty too, and as his hand goes to pick it up for a taste, a shriek fills his ears.
Looking towards the source of the shriek, he catches sight of Daigo staring in absolute bliss and disbelief at the pancakes before him. Atop a stack of two fluffy pancakes, is a pancake that bears a striking resemblance to Noririn, the art done to complete perfection, with lots of love and lots of accuracy. Nanao can hardly believe his eyes.
"I stand corrected," Nanao laughs. "This flawlessly captures the magnificence that is Noririn."
"Glad to hear that," Nanao states before he takes a sip of his coffee. "Wow! This is delicious."
"Do you mind taking a photo for me?" Daigo questions, eyes dazzling.
Nanao happily goes along with Daigo's request, taking out his own phone as Daigo poses for the photo, holding up his Noririn pancakes with a smile as bright as sunshine on the sea. Shielded by his phone, the fondness in Nanao's smile is as apparent as can be as he snaps the photos, the two taking turns to shoot one another before they can finally dig into their food.
"Ok, this is official my favorite place on Earth," Nanao exaggerates, happy as the birds in spring. He tastes all the flavors of paradise on his tongue and can't get enough. If this was his last meal, he wouldn't complain. "I didn't know strawberry cake could be this good."
"Really?" Daigo entertains his burst of energy, smirking into his pancake.
"Yeah," there's a uptake in the beat of Nanao's heart. "Want some?"
Thinking about it now, the question is a bit intrusive, a cause of discomfort, yet blinded by the utter joy of Noririn, Noririn and you guessed it - Noririn, Daigo joyfully accepts, mouth falling open. Taken by surprise, there's a lag in his movements, muscles rigid as his skin tingles. Then, something switches. His heart beats-hammers against his chest, his stomach fluttering as his gaze deepens - he is daring, bold and has no limits. This leads to an advancement in his movements, fork picking up a piece of cake that is brought to Daigo's rose pink lips, those very same lips wrapping around Nanao's fork with his eyes closed. He hums, elated with the taste, oblivious to the overwhelming feeling that devours Nanao whole.
-
That afternoon creates a turning point between Daigo and Nanao; a newfound friendship consisting of numerous texts back and forth late into the night and making weekend plans, such as they have now, this Saturday's itinerary including a visit to the one and only roller rink in their town, later accompanied by a brief visit to a karaoke bar and lastly, rewarding themselves with a bowl full of noddles before parting ways. Nanao is too excited to think about the latter and as he evacuates the train station with his phone clutched in his hand, the sound of his name catches his attention.
"Nanao-kun!" Daigo hollers, not loud enough to disturb public peace but enough for Nanao to hear. He looks up from his phone screen with a smile of recognition ready to be seen, only for it to falter at the sight of Daigo.
After their first outing together, Nanao figured that there was no reason for him to be in awe at Daigo's appearance, for he has already seen him in his personal casual clothing. Yet, here he is, the second time the two have arranged to meet over the weekend, enchanted by his every aspect as if he were a never before seen Renaissance painting. His attire is nothing worthy of such sentiment: a simple pair of washed out jeans, a cardigan with the design of a extensive palette of colors and classic black converse. It's simple, probably boring to some, but all Nanao can think is how the splashes of orange on his cardigan highlight the blue of his eyes and how his own cat would leave strands of her hair all over it. The thought is heartwarming, domestic, like the welcome warmth of your home after a long, stormy day outside.
The thought, the feeling consumes Nanao to no end, from the second their eyes meet that day to the point they've strapped on the skates and carefully make their way to the thankfully, mostly empty rink. Nanao's a complete novice to the concept of roller skating, not even once having donned any type of footwear with wheels attached to them.
This should be fun, Nanao thinks, tone reeking of sarcasm.
Undoubtedly, the burden of humiliation weighs heavy against him, just about working against him with the intention of somehow forcing him to make his way out of the rink and retreat back under the covers of his made-bed, where there is no noises to fearfully flinch at nor is there any reason to crimson in shame. However, with the clasp of Daigo's ever present strong hands and the array of cheering and glee that falls from his lips encourages Nanao to stay, shrugging off his mistakes with laughter and a smile, hands never letting go as Daigo guides him to the future and beyond. Towards the end of their session, when exhaustion hints at its presence in the form of twitching muscles, the duo decide to its time to move on to the ever so lively activity of karaoke, dancing one last lap around the rink below a dazzling discoball before they're gone, skates deserted for another pair of lovers to use.
Since Daigo was the one to suggest dropping by the roller rink, Nanao proposed karaoke afterwards, which he admittedly spent more time than expected searching for the best bar the two can enjoy. This bar turns out to have the most songs of Princess Cheer on their system in the entirety of their quaint city, and by the stroke of luck, it is not far from the roller rink, a quick five stops via train that passes by in a flash with constant chatter amongst them.
The place is colorful, shining with the promise of childlike-fun and discardment of day-to-day stresses. So are the employees, Nanao realizes, as he can't help but see the unnatural colored highlights abundant amongst those whose whole head isn't a grape purple or lime green. Their outfits appear to be that of costumes taken from performing idols, Nanao pretty much convinced that if they were to break out into song and dance with hundreds of adoring fans clustering around them, he wouldn't be surprised. A girl around their age, hot pink highlights in her midnight black hair, leads the two down a path illuminated by LED lights that touch all corners of the rainbow. The sounds of occupied rooms is muffled, yet still somewhat audible, the music with a small thump making its way into Nanao's eardrums. The worker with them shows the duo their own room, helpfully conducting microphone checks for the ones available to their room in advance to her withdrawing from their room with a polite bow and an preppy wave and grin.
"This room is really pretty." Daigo announces, taking in every bit of their room - spacious in size and lilac in color.
"I actually wanted to book the pink room for us," Nanao raises, tone hesitant with a tinge of regret. "But apparently that one wasn't available."
"I'm beyond happy with this room, Nanao-kun!" Daigo ensures, picking up one of their microphones and striking Noririn's signature pose in an attempt to make Nanao laugh.
Mission accomplished.
"Shall we start singing?" Daigo asks, and in a heartbeat, Nanao's mic is in hand and their agenda to sing the night away is set in motion.
-
It's late.
That much Nanao can tell by how jet black the night sky is as they make their way to the train station, bellies filled with hearty noodles and hot soup. The sky is a special kind of dark, the kind that propels the view of the stars as they sparkle like Nanao's never seen before, their shine enough to guide them home as their footsteps patter against the pavement dwindling with people.
In record time, they reach the train station and here comes the most dreadful part of the evening - the ugly goodbye. The goodbye that reminds Nanao of time together that is no longer, of time that cements their bond and indicates a growth in their closeness. Nanao stalls, but fortunate for him, Daigo appears to stall too, their insignificant rambles prolonging their goodbye. Eventually though, Daigo has missed three of his trains and as the fourth one approaches, he reluctantly makes it clear that he's due home. The two high-five, a friendly gesture that's maybe a bit childish for high schoolers (but it's their thing, so they don't particularly care) but just as Nanao's hand is about to lose its strength and ungracefully fall to his side, Daigo's fingers thread through the webs of Nanao's hand and with a squeeze, he smiles.
"Apparently, Noririn does this at meet & greets," Daigo informs, eyes half moons and smile as blinding as ever. Nanao's chest must be bruised with all the hammering its had to endure. "Honestly, I can't wait to experience that for real."
Me too, Nanao thinks. Me. too.
-
"Oi! Watch where you're-" There's a hard knock. "-going."
Nanao folds in pain, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he holds back a string of profanities. The loud and proud throb of the injured area persists, annoyingly so, and with his phone in hand, Nanao goes to check the wound.
"I said, watch where you're goin'," Onogi snarls, shaking his head as Nanao catches an eyeful of his new friend. A small but mighty bump on his forehead, an angry wine hue. "To think your head's so full with this Kirisaki guy,"
"Kirisaki guy?" Ryohei asks and suddenly, all eyes on Nanao.
Great, just what I need. As if I'm not nervous enough.
"You'll cause a misunderstanding like that, Kacchan," Nanao warns with the playfulness of his charm, or facade - the lines between the two tend to blur a lot lately. "He means their Vice President, Sase Daigo. We've become friends and he's butthurt because I'm not around as much,"
Snickering, he shrugs, clearly amused with his own actions as their group of five boys venture further and further away from the kyudo hall. With the discomfort of being found out, Onogi resorts to violence, reaching out with claws full of aggression. Used to all Onogi's nonsense, Nanao easily dodges with the grace of a ballerina, in the end karate chopping down on the side of Onogi's neck, his knees weak as he nurses the pain away.
As their group of five continues their walk, yondering past their school's premises to the nearby bus stop, Nanao only partakes in the conversation, opting to blend into the background as his thoughts race throughout his messy mind. To be honest, he's been feeling like this for a while. A week, if an accurate measurement is necessary. For seven solar days, he's been agonizing in silence over the matters of the heart and whether he really wants to look into himself, exploring who he is at his core. He's been procrastinating, picking at the layers of himself ever so slowly as you would a wound and when the first layer peels away, there's no going back. He digs deeper and deeper, with that coming the realization that his sudden curiosity directed towards Daigo always had another meaning to it - a meaning he's been so afraid of exploring, so scared to strip away, for it would mark the end of normalcy and life as he knows it. But, he's tired, he's so tired - the feelings grow and grow, overpowering him with brute force until he's worn out and admits defeat. He admits defeat, he admits there's something between Daigo and him that he hasn't exactly been honest about - he admits he likes Daigo.
From what Nanao's searches through extensively on the internet, there are many others who share the same struggle as him. Some battling childhood friends who they've begun to see in a new rose tinted light whilst others grapple with strangers who unexpectedly matter more than predicted. Nanao falls into that category, and as he chats with others dealing with more or less the same issue, he brings to light that his attraction does not lie with one specific gender. His eyes are open and he can finally breathe again - everything is so clear now.
With this novel affection enriching his days, he makes the executive decision that he can no longer harbor such a secret, for it is nothing to be ashamed about. His feelings need a space of their own: to be heard, to be seen. If they're not recognized, they can find another passion to follow. If they are, things can proceed from there. Whichever road this adoration is bound to embark on, Nanao's ready and when he spies Daigo waiting him at the traffic light close by a train station, nothing can stop him.
"Nanao-kun!" Daigo calls out, tone sweet and painfully enduring. Nanao's heart can't help but race. "I've been waiting for you~!"
"Sorry, practice took longer than I thought it would," he apologizes, tongue briefly running over his lips as he starts to fidget, anticipation building in his fingertips. "Thanks for waiting, though."
"Of course," Daigo beams, the syrupy nature of his cheerfulness having Nanao dance the fine line of tooth decay. "Here's your hoodie back - washed with the finest soaps you can find."
Nanao gets a hold of his chartreuse green hoodie, surprised by the softness the material now possesses, taking a missable sniff of the clothing before his lungs fill up with aroma of whimsical meadows of faraway lands, where flowers and greenery bloom freely, no destruction in view.
"This smells so good," Nanao murmurs fondly, defenseless against his desire to take another sniff. The scent embedded in the material is the same scent that lingers in Daigo's presence - Nanao knows this through and through. After all, it is the fragrance of home. "You've got to tell me which fabric softener you use."
"That is," a single index finger is held to his lips, red and plump with mischief. His head tilts and he winks, giving rise to the acceleration of butterflies that flutter in Nanao's stomach. "A secret."
Nanao laughs and for a bit there, he thinks this is worth savoring - their honeyed connection that glazes with a sweetness like no other. Every moment they've shared to this point - it deserves to be cherished, protected with the utmost care as their story sustains itself till the end of time. It deserves the chance to prevail, avoiding the tarnish of infatuation. Except Nanao's selfish and wants to see his infatuation through.
"Daigo-san?"
Daigo hums in response, partly occupied with locating something in his bag.
A car, coin silver in color, zooms past, royal winds left in its wake.
"I like you."
The traffic lights turn red, marking the end of their friendship.
-
It's been a week, a terrible one at that. Something's missing. Someone's missing. By someone, Nanao means Daigo.
Ever since the confession of endearment, there's been a separation of all sorts in their friendship. Daigo, upon hearing such words of intimacy leave Nanao's lips, has been left in a daze, excusing himself with the statement, "give me time to think about this." Nanao's a very patient person, as patient as rock, but even his patience begins to run thin as several twenty-four hours go by, not a word coming from Daigo. When Masa-san organizes for Kirisaki and the rest of the Kazemai boys to meet at his kyudo hall, Daigo's eyes avoid Nanao's direction entirely, in instances where the two are forced to socialize, the foreign expression of, "Kisaragi-kun," echoing like a disastrous earthquake. Nanao wrestles with himself daily, part of him insisting his confession should have been said whilst the other part (lonely and bitter) has its regrets.
It seems as if there is nothing to salvage after yet another joint practice session of radio silence, Nanao making up another lame excuse to Onogi in order to be alone. Maybe to cry, to scream - he hasn't chosen yet.
"N-Nanao-kun!"
Silence. Deafening silence.
Nanao can hardly believe his ears, an anchor dropping to the pits of his stomach as shock rips through him like a raging fire. Mouth gaping, he slowly turns and lo and behold, there is Daigo, sleeves of his blazer pushed to his elbows as his chest rises and falls, his breath labored.
Nanao, despite the greatness of his reluctance, opts to meet Daigo halfway, footsteps heavier as he approaches Daigo who huffs and puffs, trying to regain his breath.
"Thought I'd never hear from you again," Nanao is soft-spoken, somberness drenching his words. A grim twist of his mouth makes an unwelcome appearance, Nanao's eyes moving their focus to the clouds in the sky.
Daigo, with his breath mostly regained, stands tall, eyes glistening with an unwavering emotion that Nanao has never seen before. The emotion welling in his eyes makes Nanao want to take a step back, for its residency overwhelms him beyond the point of comfort.
"I needed time," he emphasizes, eyes trained on Nanao. The unswerving eye contact the two maintain gives substance to turned cheeks, eyes bashfully flickering all over the place, those very same turned cheeks flushing with fancy.
After a brief moment, Nanao's the first to look back. As observant as ever, he perceives the tight grip Daigo has on the straps of his shoulder bag, the skin of his hands paling to an faint egg nog hue. The determination in his eyes still stands, but there's something standing in its way - timidity? humiliation? Nanao isn't quite sure, nor is he sure he wants to find out.
His eyes slowly come around, royal blue orbs meeting Nanao's in an encounter that evokes a flash flood of memories that Nanao still holds near and dear to his heart: the humble glow of disbelief and pure joy Daigo radiates at the sight of his Noririn pancakes, the lightning speed to which texts from him accompanied by plentiful cute emojis came in, the warmth of his hand as they skate the night away. Nanao never wants to let go of such memories, keeping them locked away in a sky scrapping tower as if they are a princess, but if things are going the way he thinks they're going, he'll have no choice but to forget them and carry on with his life, his first love nothing but a bittersweet reminiscence.
"I have-" his speech halts as he retrieves something from his pants pocket. Two printed tickets. "-I accidentally bought two tickets for the Climax series. Since I know you're a fan, maybe you'd want..to go?"
A wave of shock engulfs him like frantic current, drenching him with the understanding that Daigo isn't creeped out by him (not by a long haul), isn't abandoning their friendship for differing emotions between them and is in fact, proposing to continue down this path and see where it takes them.
Amusement begs to echo through his chest, Nanao doing his best to keep a straight face as his chin tilts upwards, eye contact direct and probing as he asks with a cocky raised eyebrow and a smirk to match. "With whom exactly?"
Daigo wails, not anticipating such straightforwardness from Nanao. He is quick to reply, peachy blush blooming against his cheeks. "With you, stupid!"
Howling, Nanao can barely contain himself, throwing his head back in a bray of loud laughter whilst grabbing at his ribs as if he has a stitch loose. He's weak at the knees, barely able to stand and maybe he's laughing more than he needs to but it feels so good to laugh again, knowing his first love is secure and has its right to to be heard and seen. Even if it's by a Noririn enthusiast.