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February the 14th. Beautiful day. A perfect, wonderful day to stay at home and play a video game or something. Great day to not be in school, in particular.
Rintarou stares at the email from his form teacher for the fifth time as he chews a gummy worm. “Screw you,” he whispers, scrolling to the top and back down again. That makes it a sixth. “Remedial on a Sunday?”
Apparently their class is, collectively, not very good at math. And apparently they’re so bad at it that they need to take an extra class on Sunday morning because, as Tachirou-sensei describes it, I would suggest that the class uses calculators, but I am concerned that the sheer amount of numbers on it would confound you already.
I am of course kidding. Please come on Sunday morning at 9.30 AM. I will give you Umaibo.
Rintarou drops his head and collapses onto his side on the bed, shutting his laptop close.
“Ridiculous,” he mutters. This could probably be an online lesson, but he supposes Tachirou-sensei already thought it through and realised that 90% of the class wouldn’t pay attention if he held it virtually. “Why does it have to be at 9.30 in the morning?”
A head peeks out from behind his door frame in response to his muttering. “Are you upset about not being able to go out on Valentine's Day?” His sister asks cheekily as she jumps into his room and flops onto his bed. “Sad, sad nii-chan.”
Valentine’s Day? Rintarou couldn’t give a rat’s ass about Valentine’s Day. “No, I have remedial class on Sunday, that’s what.”
“Oh.” His sister pouts. “I thought you had a hot date to look forward to. Y’know.” She waggles her brows at him. “Y’know.”
“Akemi. I don’t know. Now get off.” He nudges her back with his foot, but she doesn’t budge. “What, you here to mock me or something?”
Akemi sighs. “I’m not that free. I came to ask you about something, but apparently since you’re not celebrating Valentine’s, I might be asking the wrong person.”
“What?” Rintarou narrows his eyes. “Are you going to confess to somebody?”
“No, but it’s Valentine’s! What if I get confessed to on the Monday after?”
“...You’re a baby.”
“I’m going to be thirteen this year,” Akemi protests.
“Nope. Infant.” Rintarou flicks her forehead lightly, and she groans. “Besides, what do you need to know?”
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “How do I reject someone if I get chocolates? What if I kinda like the person, and I accept? And what brand of chocolates should I buy for my friends? There’s a lot to think about.”
Rintarou deadpans. “There’s literally nothing to think about here.”
“Niiii-chan.” Akemi sits up on the bed and folds her arms. “The type of chocolate you give or receive is really important, you know.”
He shrugs. “Hell if I know. What’s your favourite brand of chocolate?”
Her face lights up. “Lindt.”
“Okay, then get them Lindt.”
“But what if they don’t like it?”
“You—” he sighs. “Look, I’ll get some for you, and it’ll be good, okay? None of your friends are gonna complain about receiving it.”
Akemi opens her mouth instinctively as though to retort before shutting it again and nodding. “Fair point,” she mumbles. “If they don’t like it then maybe they shouldn’t be my friend.”
Rintarou huffs a laugh at that. His sister’s barely in middle school and she’s starting to exhibit the same sass as him. “Don’t be like that. How about I choose another brand that’s not Lindt for you this year?”
His sister tilts her head in thought, squinting at him. “You’re just gonna ask Osamu-nii.”
“No, I won’t.” Yes, he will. “Trust me, I’ll get you a good one.”
------
“Oh,” Osamu says lightly as he leans back against his seat and sets his bento box, now empty, onto his desk. “Easy. Chocolatier Palat D’or.”
Rintarou almost chokes on his melon milk. “I’m sorry,” he says, “two things. First, that’s definitely the name of a French palace. Second, that sounds super fucking expensive.”
“What?” Osamu shrugs with a lift of an eyebrow and hint of a smirk. “It’s the name of a chocolatier boutique in Osaka. You asked me what the best choice would be. ‘S objectively nice.”
“Devastating for the wallet.” Rintarou sets his drink packet down behind him. “Look, I need to get some chocolates for my sister. She’s kind of excited about Sunday.”
“Oh. Valentine’s Day.” Osamu surveys him. “Isn’t your sister like, five?”
“She’s thirteen, but yes.” Rintarou shakes his head. “Next suggestion, please.”
Osamu smirks, visibly this time. “Godiva.”
“May I remind you that we are high schoolers on a budget?”
“Fine, fine.” Osamu’s gaze meets his eye and the corners of his eyes crinkle up just a little, Rintarou notices. “Just get a box of Royce chocolates then. It’s easy to share with a group and nobody’s gonna get offended if it’s for a class.”
“That’s—” Rintarou pauses. “Oh. Actually, that’s pretty good.”
“Right?” Osamu leans forward on his folded arms, smiling slightly at him. “Sounds like a plan?”
He nods. “Sounds good.”
Osamu hums.
“You have any plans for Valentine’s, then? After remedial?”
Rintarou snorts. “I was gonna play games at home, so, no. You?”
“I was gonna spend the day laughing at ‘Tsumu’s ass, so yeah, no.”
“Cool.” Suddenly there’s a break in the conversation, and Rintarou feels a nagging need to fill it with something. “Expecting any confessions this year?”
“I dunno.” Osamu tilts his head. “‘S the same every year, I’m not really interested, y’know?”
Rintarou wags a finger at him. “It’s not a good look if you complain about getting too many chocolates.”
“Whatever, Suna. If I’m not interested, I’m not interested.” Osamu looks at him dead in the eye, and Rintarou lets his finger fall, thoughts faltering. “I know you’re the same way, ‘cause you broke Mina’s heart last year.”
“Oh. Huh.” Rintarou shakes his head slightly. “I didn’t ‘break her heart’.”
“Well, ya didn’t mean to, but ya kinda did.” Osamu chuckles. “She looked pretty sad when you turned her down, y’know.”
“Ah.” He recalls the confession last year, from a girl whose long hair was tied in a pink bow and her phone had a fuzzy pink charm attached to it. “Y’know, she’s not my type.”
“Oh?” Osamu leans slightly closer. “What is your type?”
Rintarou doesn’t know, actually. He’s never sat down to think about it. He’s done some of those quizzes before, like What kind of sailor moon girl do you like the most? Or Who’s the most romanceable character in Naruto? None of the answers he’s received to-date have been particularly satisfactory, and it’s certainly not enough to tell Osamu, who’s looking at him intently.
He kicks at Osamu’s desk halfheartedly. “I’ll know when I know.”
Osamu nods just as the school bell rings, marking the end of break and the start of English. Rintarou stretches and gets up from his desk, preparing to sit back onto his chair.
“Alright then, gonna go chocolate-hunting tomorrow afternoon.”
Osamu smiles. “Get one box for us, too, while you’re at it.”
Rintarou slaps his shoulder as he gets up from the desk. “Ass. You’re contributing 500 yen to this. What flavour d’you want?”
------
Rintarou ends up getting milk chocolate, because it’s the most standard flavour and he likes it the most.
He gets Akemi one box of Royce milk chocolate and one bag of assorted Lindt chocolates, because he knows she likes them and they’re easier to give out if she wants to. Then, he gets a second box of Royce chocolates, and brings that to school.
Osamu sees him first and makes a beeline for him. “Don’t show Sato,” he whispers as they walk towards class. “He’s gonna cry if he sees chocolate. He just got dumped.”
“Ouch.” Rintarou winces. “Okay, we’ll share it within our quadrant of the classroom, then.”
They end up sharing the chocolate with about seven other people sitting around them before they have to get back to their seats for the actual class. True to Sensei’s word, each of them get an Umaibo as a gift for coming to school on a Sunday.
Rintarou glances at his as their teacher moves onto the other half of the room. “Hmm. Teriyaki.”
Osamu glances at him. “Wanna swap? I got Corn Potage.”
Ah. It’s Rintarou’s favourite flavour. “You’re okay with Teriyaki?”
Osamu shrugs. “You know I eat anything.”
“Fair.” They make the swap. “Wow, Osamu, you’re so nice today, huh.”
“Maybe it’s the Valentine’s spirit,” Osamu replies, grinning. Rintarou huffs a laugh and tosses an eraser at him, which Osamu deflects.
“Every time,” their classmate sitting behind him groans as he bends down to pick up his eraser. “You two…”
“Hmm?” Rintarou swings around. “What?”
His classmate sighs.
“Nevermind. You wouldn’t know even if I told you.”
------
Remedial class ends right around 11.30 AM, to the students’ (and teacher’s) collective relief. As Tachirou-sensei bows and collects his books to leave the classroom, the class starts to rise with increasing chatter and movement, and students start leaving the class in pairs or groups. The 60%-eaten box of Royce chocolate still sits in Rintarou’s hands as he scans the class.
He makes a split-second decision.
“Hey, Osamu.”
“Huh?” Osamu, mid-way through packing his pencil case, turns to glance at him. “What?”
Rintarou extends his hand and pushes the box of chocolates into his hands. “Take the rest,” he says, as casually as he can muster between Two Dudes Passing Chocolates on a Commercial Romantic Holiday. “I can’t eat that much, anyway. Let Atsumu have some, too, the loser.”
Osamu blinks at him before breaking into a soft laughter. “Loser,” he chortles. “Thanks. I’ll tell him ya said happy Valentine’s.”
Rintarou waves and walks out of the classroom, but not before dropping a Lindt chocolate on his teacher’s desk.
------
It’s when he gets home that he realises that maybe he should’ve made some plans.
“Oh, what the fuck?” He blurts as he steps into his living room. “Sorry, guys. Akemi, what—”
“Nii-chan,” Akemi turns around and bounds off the edge of the couch as he slots his shoes back into the shoe rack and shuts the door. “I can explain.”
“Okay.” Rintarou sighs. “Please explain what seven girls are doing in our living room on the Lord’s day, i.e. my only respite from the horror that is my third year of high school.”
Akemi shrugs. “It’s my group of friends. We’re hanging out. Do you not have a group of friends to hang out with?”
The little shit. “Alright, alright. Hey,” he waves at the girls currently sitting around the coffee table in various angles, who all nod and wave back. “Got the chocolate?”
The girl closest to them points at the coffee table, where a Royce chocolate box sits, half-finished, and smiles. “Thank you, Suna-nii.”
“Right.” He puts up a thumbs-up weakly and trudges to his room. “Don’t break anything.”
“We’re not clumsy.” Akemi waves him away. “Shoo.”
------
All Rintarou wants is a restful Sunday. All Rintarou wants is to lie in bed and pretend that Monday isn’t tomorrow. All Rintarou wants—
“He did what?”
Rintarou groans and digs his palms into his eyes. The house isn’t big enough for eight of them. His parents will be back in three hours, then it’ll be ten.
He sighs, curling into himself, as he picks up his phone. He’d start up his game now but doing math in the morning wore him out and he doesn’t really want to do anything right now, or talk to anyone right now, or—
His phone buzzes, and his eyes flit up to read the message.
Osamu
Hey
Tsumu says “thanks for the chocolates, ya sorry loser”
But really though, Royce is good. Thanks Sunarin
Rintarou raises his head slightly as he clicks on the message and starts to type back.
Suna
Royce is a pretty good choice
Can’t believe you told me to go to patisserie von john at first
Osamu
It’s “Chocolatier Palat D’or”
But sure
Happy Valentine’s Day?
Suna
Happy Vday I guess
How’s yours and Tsumu’s?
He hesitates before he sends the next message.
Any fun confessions?
He’s not sure if he wants to know. Not entirely sure why he doesn’t know if he wants to know.
Osamu
Actually Tsumu’s getting fried now
Suna
What? Fried? What did he do?
Osamu
Someone gave him chocolates and he forgot her name…
Called her someone else
Girl was really upset
Lol
Suna
…
Lol
Clown
Osamu
Ikr
Anyway he’s unbearable. Keeps asking me why he hasn’t gotten any real chocolates yet
And I’ll ask him, from who? And he’ll say none of your business
Rintarou laughs at this one. Atsumu’s shifty when it comes to sharing about the person he likes, or may like. Usually, Osamu would have a clue, but this time round, Atsumu’s been better at keeping it secret.
Suna
Boo, that’s not helpful
Osamu
Right?
Can’t stand him
Needa get out
Suna
Me too
My sis brought her friends over
Can’t chill above all the chatter
Osamu
Oh, how cute
How many of them
Suna
7
Osamu
Wow
Not so cute
Park in 30? Let’s get out
Suna
Sure
See ya
------
As Rintarou throws on a jacket and grabs his shoes, his sister’s gaze latches onto him. “Ooh, going somewhere?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Rintarou rolls his eyes.
“I’m just meeting Osamu. You girls have fun.”
“Oh, Osamu-san,” one of the girls chirps. “Isn’t that the guy your brother—”
“Hush!” Akemi clamps a hand over her friend's mouth as Rintarou stares at them in confusion. “Bye, Nii-chan,” she chirps, grinning at him toothily. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Uh.” Rintarou frowns slightly. “Okay. Have fun. Don’t break anything.”
------
When Rintarou reaches the park, Osamu’s sitting on a swing, kicking at the ground as the swing moves listlessly. He approaches him quietly, knee knocking against the other empty swing.
“Osamu.”
Osamu glances up and smiles slightly, and Rintarou doesn’t know why but it makes him stop in his tracks. Maybe it’s the way his hair is slightly messier than usual, or the fact that he’s in home clothes and a soft-looking grey hoodie, or the fact that in his hands is his blue box of Royce chocolate with just two pieces left, one toothpick stuck in each.
“I brought it out,” Osamu says, “‘cause there’s only two left. Let’s finish them.”
Rintarou stares at him. At the box. “Um,” he says, “Didn’t leave it for Atsumu?”
“Nah, the asshole’s got too many already.” Osamu continues to meet his gaze. “Have one?”
Slowly, Rintarou lowers himself onto the swing, hands gripping onto the chains on each side. “Okay,” he mumbles, leaning in to take a piece. “How ‘bout you?”
“Me?” Osamu picks up the other toothpick and hesitates. “Oh.”
Rintarou watches as Osamu’s expression morphs into one of neutrality. “Oh?” Rintarou echoes, attempting to add edge to his question. “Was there one?”
“Well—” Osamu sighs and sets the toothpick back down. Oh, Rintarou thinks, weary enough to put food down? “You see, someone approached me right after you left. Midori-san.”
“Oh, Midori?” Rintarou blinks. “She’s pretty.” Maybe. He guesses so. He’s never really thought about her like that.
Osamu shrugs. “I guess. Anyway, she gave me chocolate and a letter. It’s, uh...” He fishes a piece of paper out of the pocket of his hoodie with his other hand. “...yeah. I mean, that’s that.”
“Uh huh.” Rintarou’s throat is inexplicably dry. “So did you say yes?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t like her. She’s nice, but I don’t like her. You know.”
Rintarou sticks the piece of chocolate into his mouth, just as Osamu eats his. “Yeah,” he says, letting the soft chocolate melt onto his tongue, leaving a milky, slightly bitter taste. “I know what you mean.”
He doesn’t really know what he means, actually. He doesn’t know what it means that he felt a sharp sense of relief when Osamu shook his head, or what it means to share the last bits of a chocolate with a friend.
“Osamu, I—” he glances at him and says the first thing that’s on his mind. “What’s your type?”
He raises his brows. “My type?”
“You asked me that day,” Rintarou points out as he slowly maneuvers the now-empty Royce box out of Osamu’s hands and onto his own lap, closing the lid. “Tell me yours.”
Osamu stares at him, long and hard, and takes a deep breath.
“I don’t think I have a type,” he says quietly. “Just someone who’s, y’know. Easy to talk to. Someone I can spend time with at five in the morning or eleven in the night. Someone who’ll sit through lunch with me while I talk about the ingredients that go into it. Someone who’ll call if I ask them to.” He meets Rintarou’s gaze, and Rintarou is hit with the full focus of his dark grey eyes. “Someone who’ll remember my favourite flavour of ice cream. Be my ride or die. I dunno. What d’you think?”
Rintarou sucks in a breath, because he’s done all of those things, and the first thought that occupies his mind in this very moment is Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake.
“What do I think?” he says, swallowing. “That’s not something I can answer.”
“It’s not. But I’m askin’ anyway.” Osamu straightens up a little, and Rintarou realizes that he’s a little close, like shoulder-bumping, swings-knocking close. “So?”
Rintarou’s immediate response is, I don’t know, but even that jams in his throat as he opens his mouth to respond.
His own words come back to bite him in the back. I’ll know when I know.
Oh, he thinks to himself as his heart skips a beat and his eyes start to widen. Maybe I’m starting to know.
“Osamu.” Rintarou’s voice comes out slightly shakier than he’d like it to be. “Is your favorite strawberry cheesecake?”
Osamu nods.
“From Ben & Jerry’s?”
He nods, again.
“And do you remember that time we went to Osho and you listed down all the possible ingredients in your set meal?”
Osamu wrinkles his nose in thought. “Yeah, but I don’t have the list.”
Rintarou swallows, again.
“You don’t.” He picks his phone out of his pocket, scrolls to his notes and shows it to him. “It’s with me.”
Fried rice, gyoza, sweet & sour pork.
Egg, spring onion, pork or chicken base? Probably pork.
Egg first, then rice. 2-3 eggs to one serving
A pinch of salt? Two pinches?
Chives
...
It goes on.
Osamu glances at the list and back to Rintarou again, a faint look of wonder forming on his face. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Right.”
Rintarou slowly lowers his hand and slips his phone into his pocket, watching him with bated breath. “Osamu—”
“I didn’t get you chocolates because I didn’t know if that’d be weird,” Osamu says suddenly, and Rintarou becomes acutely aware of the way the empty box of Royce sits on his lap. “But maybe I should’ve. I was afraid.”
Rintarou’s heart pounds against his chest. “Afraid of what?”
Osamu blinks at him and sighs, turning his head away.
“Afraid that you wouldn’t like me back.”
Ah.
This is Valentine’s Day, Rintarou thinks as Osamu averts his gaze. This is a confession. He expects the moment to be grander, to be a tsunami of emotions which crash down on him all at once. He doesn’t expect it to feel this warm, this close, this familiar.
He doesn’t expect it to be this easy.
“Osamu.” He bumps his shoulder into his. “‘Samu.”
Osamu lets out a small laugh. “Only ‘Tsumu calls me that.”
Rintarou’s mouth widens into a smile.
“Let me call you that, too?”
Osamu turns to face him again, quickly, eyes wide, a flush building at his cheeks. “What… what did you say?”
“I said, let me call you that. ‘Samu.” Now Rintarou feels the heat against his neck creeping up to his ears. “How does it sound?”
“I dunno,” Osamu leans against his shoulder, swing swaying slightly. “Nice, I guess. What does this mean?”
Rintarou huffs. “It means whatever you want, dumbass. Ask me proper.”
“Fine.” Osamu turns his swing to face him, and Rintarou does the same, knees knocking. “Suna Rintarou, date me,” he says almost defiantly. Rintarou almost laughs as he kicks him with one foot.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, smile still on his face. “I’m interested. I’ll date you.”
“Good.” They swing back to their shoulder-to-shoulder position, Rintarou knocking against Osamu, shoulders and knees touching as the swings bob left and right. “Woulda been really awkward if you said no.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Rintarou finds himself saying without a shred of hesitation.
Osamu shakes his head, but he’s smiling that quiet smile that’s reserved for himself. Rintarou realizes, suddenly, that maybe he’ll get to see it a bit more often, and something warm blooms within him.
“We already hang out,” Osamu says as they continue to sway idly. “So, what happens now?”
Rintarou laughs. “Nothing changes.” He rests his head on Osamu’s shoulder and snakes his hand into his. “But maybe you can call me Rin if you want.”