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“So anyway, I’m there in the middle of the street trying to act like I’m not covered in the literal worst-smelling goop I’ve ever smelled…”
Hizashi used the cover of Nemuri’s boisterous retelling of one of her many daring villain encounters during her most recent internship to sneak away from the congregation of friends and classmates in her apartment’s living room. Shouta had pulled his usual mid-party disappearing act about half an hour ago (despite the whole point of this party being his sixteenth birthday), which meant he was likely to be comfortably camped out in the kitchen raiding the snack cabinet. Perfect timing for Hizashi to give him his present without having to do it in front of everyone else.
Hizashi ducked into Nemuri’s parents’ room where everyone had thrown their coats when they arrived. He dug through the pile on the bed, finding his own jacket and pulling the small rumpled gift box out of the inside pocket. His heart gave a sudden unpleasant lurch at the thought of actually giving it to Shouta, though. This was a bad idea, the anxiety-riddled part of his brain screamed loudly and not for the first time. Hadn’t he seen the pile of better-wrapped, far more welcome gifts stacked next to the sofa in the living room? Hadn’t he been the one to suggest the new lug-soled boots Oboro had gotten for Shouta months ago after Shouta mentioned his were starting to fall apart? Hadn’t he been along for the trip when Nemuri picked up the industrial-grade nylon web belt she’d found at a surplus store and had one of the upperclassmen from the Support Course customize with extra pouches and gadgets? Everyone else had been smart enough to get nice, simple, practical gifts for Shouta that outshone his ridiculous offering without even trying.
The sound of a loud, insistent meow from the far side of the pile of coats spooked Hizashi out of his rapid anxiety spiral. For a heart-stopping moment he thought Sushi might have gotten trapped under the coats somehow before remembering Nemuri had been careful to lock the kitten in her room with all his essentials to make sure he wouldn’t get underfoot. Wondering if Sushi had somehow learned how to teleport, Hizashi edged around the side of the bed.
Instead of Sushi, however, Hizashi found Shouta. He had taken all the pillows from the bed and used them to carve out a little cave for himself before camouflaging his hidey-hole with the pile of coats. Shouta looked up from the video of kittens playing with a capybara on his phone, tensing slightly as he realized he’d been found. He relaxed again as he saw that it was just Hizashi.
“You look comfy,” Hizashi teased.
Shouta shrugged one shoulder. “It was getting too loud,” he said.
“Yeah, I get that,” Hizashi said, nodding. He hesitated, fingers tightening around the gift box before he steeled his nerve and held it out to Shouta. “Um. Here, I, uh. Here.”
“What is it?” Shouta asked.
“A surprise?” Hizashi said, hating the way his voice cracked up at the end and made it sound sarcastic.
Shouta just snorted, though, a slight crack of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. He set his phone down and took the box. With slow precision that bordered on torturous he set to untying the ribbon and undoing the wrapping paper along the taped seams. Hizashi had to bunch his fingers into the hem of his teeshirt to push back the urge to grab the box back and just rip it open himself. Finally after what felt like several hours of painstaking extraction Shouta set the wrapping paper aside and shook open the box. He frowned, head cocked to the side for a confused moment as he reached in. Hizashi’s heart gave a wild leap into his throat as realization finally dawned and Shouta said with a laugh, “Cat gloves?”
“Yeah! You seemed to really like those ones we saw a couple weeks ago, but those were kinda out of my price range when I went back to check,” Hizashi said a little sheepishly. “My mom had a bunch of black fuzzy fabric from when she had to make a cat costume for Hoshi’s drama club, though,” he added, trying to rush past the admission, “and she let me have what was left so I could make you some instead!”
“They have toe beans,” Shouta said, slipping his hand into one of the gloves and flexing his fingers. He sounded like he was trying to hold back a laugh, though good or bad Hizashi wasn’t sure. Hizashi rubbed the back of his neck as he felt himself going red.
“I…thought they’d look cute,” he agreed in a mumble. “Um. Sorry that they’re probably kind of wonky, I couldn’t figure out how to use my mom’s sewing machine so I had to sew most of it by hand and the thread kept breaking so I kept having to cut more and re-stitch parts of it and it turned into kind of a mess on the edges—” Hizashi realized he was starting to ramble in the awkward, breathless way he got stuck in when nerves took over. He clamped his mouth shut and took a deep breath, letting oxygen come back to his brain before he tried talking again. “A-Anyway, um. Happy birthday,” he finally stumbled over the finish line.
Shouta did laugh then, but it was a gentle, quiet snort of affection that made Hizashi’s pulse race off without him. Shouta tugged on the other glove, fully grinning this time as he flexed the sewn-on pink toe pads. He tossed the wrapping paper to the side and scooted over to make room for Hizashi in his little cave. “Wanna watch cat videos with me?” he asked.
Hizashi’s chest fluttered; he was pretty sure he’d never heard a sentence so perfect in his entire life. He shuffled into the space Shouta had made for him, tucking his legs in as best he could. Shouta burrowed in beside him with his head on Hizashi’s shoulder and his phone propped in one cat-gloved hand on Hizashi’s stomach so they could both see it. Hizashi was sure Shouta could hear his heart pounding from here, but couldn’t stop grinning regardless. The two of them watched Shouta’s video playlist together in cozy silence, one or the other or occasionally both breaking it with a quiet laugh from time to time.