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“Stop fidgeting already.”
The words came out rough and abrupt; the first thing she had said to him in the last half hour they’d been in each other’s company. The baseball game was over, and as soon as they were dismissed, Kugisaki was already grabbing his hand and dragging him away from the field. He tried to break free, to at least try and get an explanation from her, but the glare she briefly sent his way at the insistent hand that was pulling on her sleeve was enough to make him crumble. He weakly waved goodbye to Fushiguro as he got pulled along, hoping his message of “Don’t wait up! And also look for my body if you don’t see me again in a couple hours!” was properly conveyed. His friend simply looked on in mild interest before turning to discuss something with their upperclassmen.
And now here they were in her dorm room. In the light of the setting sun, orange hues dancing across their faces. Sitting on her bed. His hand in hers.
She was painting his nails.
And although the act itself seemed like a kind enough gesture, the mood seemed to suggest otherwise.
Kugisaki’s face was unreadable when they had entered. Unreadable when she had forced Yuuji to sit on her bed. Unreadable when she then went to retrieve something from her desk. Unreadable still when she plopped down next to him with different bottles of nail polish in tow. She had put her hand out towards him, silently asking for his hand without so much as sparing him a glance.
It didn’t take much for Yuuji to listen to her.
The silence almost suffocated him though. Kugisaki was mad, and he wasn’t quite sure how to approach it. His brain wasn’t built for quiet moments like these, but he couldn’t bear being the one to break the silence first. He knew it was better for them both to wait and let her process whatever she was processing. So, he let her paint. And when she decided she didn’t like the color she just applied, he allowed her to rub off the color with nail polish remover too. Over and over.
When she finally spoke, he couldn’t have been more relieved to hear her voice. But he couldn’t ignore the way it cracked. And not just from disuse. He didn’t dare to peek at her face. Not yet. He wiggled his fingers in her grasp, making her click her tongue in annoyance.
“This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would, Kugisaki,” he replied lightly. “You know it’s hard for me to keep still, right?”
She clicked her tongue again at that, grabbing the polish-covered cotton ball to scrub at his fingernails again. He didn’t fail to notice the way her hand curled around his wrist, forcing him to stay put. “Hard for you to stay alive, too,” she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.
Ah.
There was a pause as her words sank in. And by the way her hands stilled, cotton ball in one and him in the other, he knew she was already regretting speaking up about such emotions. Kugisaki wasn’t much of the sentimental type, not to him at least. But he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by. Not now.
Kugisaki was in the middle of pulling her hand away from his wrist, grip loosening and uncurling when Yuuji suddenly grabbed hold of it with his other hand. If she was surprised, she didn’t say anything to signify so. He took a deep breath before speaking firmly, cutting through the oppressive atmosphere easily, determined to not let them lapse back into awkward silence. “You two were the first people I wanted to tell. You know that.”
He still couldn’t look at her.
She scoffed at that, her gaze elsewhere as she pretended to mull over what color she should try next on him. She hadn’t pulled away from his grasp. “We mourned you.”
“... I know.”
Another pause. Kugisaki seemed to hesitate at what she wanted to say next. “... I cried over you.”
Yuuji felt his face soften. She had never sounded so small. “Yeah. Fushiguro already beat me over the head for it.”
She laughed at that. Actually laughed. And he wished more than anything that he could force himself to raise his damn head and see the expression on her face. “Hah. Good. Glad that guy is doing some of the dirty work for me.”
“I’m willing to take another punch if it’ll make you feel better.”
She took a second too long to answer, as if she was very much considering it for a moment, before eventually replying. “Nah. Too easy. I wanna see you squirm, all guilty and stuff.”
Yuuji chuckled. “Wooooow. You’re the worst person I know.”
“And you’re the biggest asshole I know. I say we’re pretty evenly-matched.” Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she was smiling by now. Could hear it in her voice.
He looked up.
And there she was. Tears threatening to fall from her eyes, but that stupid shit-eating grin plastered across her face. There was a moment of surprise in her expression as they made eye contact, but she refused to let it go. She was staring right back at him. Yuuji’s smile grew wider.
He doesn’t know how long they looked at each other like that. He thinks they probably could’ve stayed like that forever and he wouldn’t have mind. The spell was broken though when Kugisaki finally removed herself from his grip, rearranging their hands so that they were back to doing what they supposedly came here to do. Paint his nails.
And although the silence was comfortable this time, Kugisaki didn’t allow it to stretch on for long. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you yet, by the way,” she said matter-of-factly, her brush making contact again with the tips of his fingers. Her other hand remained steady under his, holding it up so that it was easier to paint. Yuuji doesn’t know when they got so close. Or when his heart started beating so loud.
He shoved the thought aside and groaned in playful despair. “How many more times can I say I’m sorry, Kugisaki? You die once and suddenly no one lets you forget it.”
She rolled her eyes pointedly, which made her smear the paint from his nail to his finger by accident. She sighed and grabbed the cotton ball again. “Yeah, yeah, idiot. Well, if I die, I’ll give you permission to be mad at me, too.”
He froze. “If you die?”
“Which I won’t. I’m too cool to fucking die.”
Yuuji barreled on like she hadn’t interjected, face becoming serious as he contemplated. “If you died... I mean, I don’t even know what I would do with myself.”
Kugisaki’s eyes betrayed an emotion he could not recognize, but she was determined to keep the mood light. There was the slightest upturn to her lips as she rubbed the cotton ball over his fingers again. “Good. Then you’ll understand how I felt.”
He shook his head at her. “Jeez. Anyone ever told you that you can get really intense?”
“Yeah. But I think you like it.”
“... I do.”
Her hands stilled again at the utter sincerity in his tone. And for a moment, Yuuji thought he had ruined everything. Ruined a nice moment because he had to be an emotional dumbass that announced his feelings a bit too loudly. Ruined... whatever this was. But Kugisaki simply punched him in the arm, no force behind it, before returning her gaze to the collection of nail polish bottles next to them.
“... You’re an idiot. Now tell me what color you want already. I’m sick of looking at you.”
He grinned. Kugisaki wasn’t a good liar.