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According to 'Hidden Numbers of Japan' on NHK last night, convenience stores satisfy over sixteen billion customers every year, and the most popular onigiri sold at 7-Eleven contains nothing but tuna and mayonnaise for filling. En doesn't need a television show to tell him Atsushi likes to buy curry katsu sandwiches for lunch, on the rare occasion they're not running late. En usually buys them for him anyway.
These days, when they go to the convenience store, the person standing behind the counter isn't that old guy anymore; it's Komi Shou. En only remembers the name because there's no way he's ever going to be able to erase the memory of his stupid fight with Atsushi from his mind.
Also, the kotatsu monster had been sort of cute, but he's hardly going to admit that when it had also been a huge pain in the ---
"That comes to 380Y."
Komi offers him a small smile, one that En doesn't return. The boy's face falls.
"Sorry," En says. It's not Komi's fault, after all. The student council, of all people. En still finds it hard to believe sometimes; he has no illusions about himself, but he had always thought of the student council as the pinnacle of humanity. To be fair, it hadn't been all their fault, yet still...
...Some things were too troublesome to think about for long. Komi is watching him with a mixture of anxiety and confusion, and belatedly, En realizes that he's supposed to be doing something.
"Thanks," he says, and takes his change. He notices that Komi's gaze is flitting between him and his groceries. Though he doesn't think he's bought anything too odd today, maybe kids these days don't eat cream puffs and pudding -- at least not before school. "What?"
Komi blushes all the way to his headband. He's pretty cute, En thinks, even when he doesn't look like a black jellybean under a blanket.
Even? Especially?
It's too troublesome to think about, and he's late, after all, so En waves goodbye and dashes out. He doesn't hear Komi's faltering voice call out after him; he's already forgotten he'd asked a question.
Atsushi nudges him as they fall back in line with one another.
"What did you get?"
En nudges back in retaliation. Atsushi's arm is warm through their blazers. On a cold day like this, it feels especially nice. He pushes harder, pressing his shoulder against Atsushi's. Leaning on Atsushi feels nice; it's almost as if En could take a nap...right...now......
"En-chan, I'm going to fall over!" Atsushi shoves him away, almost toppling En over in the process. He looks worried, though his own face is flushed bright red. Could it be a fever? Atsushi tends to get sick quite often, probably because he spends all his time worrying about a useless guy like En. "Are you alright? Did you stay up too late last night watching Pretty Healer?"
En finished Pretty Healer months ago. Sometimes, Atsushi's brain works in really strange ways. He shakes his head. "You just have really nice shoulders," he explains. "They're really solid, like the bread in a sandwich." Can't have a sandwich without the supports, after all.
"You didn't buy a sandwich, did you?" Atsushi asks. "You always make me eat the crusts, and I don't particularly feel like that today." En's not sure what that has to do with anything, but he's suddenly very aware of the egg and mayo sandwich tucked neatly at the bottom of the plastic bag.
"Can't remember," he replies indifferently. Maybe he can swap lunches with Yumoto or something. He's heard Atsushi say that Kinshirou always has nice lunches, probably because Arima puts caviar and stuff in them all the time. "Shouldn't we walk a bit faster? We're already late."
"Isn't that because you took so long to get out of bed?"
Atsushi always has to have the last word. It's a bothersome trait, but En doesn't mind it so much if it means he gets to hear Atsushi's voice more often. He's not sure how Kinshirou went all those years without this. A couple of days was enough separation for a lifetime.
The club room is packed by the time they finally make their way up at lunch. Arima's opened up the door to the student council for good, now, and Kinshirou insists that anything visible from his throne of presidential power has to be up to Akoya's standards of beauty. Evidently, that equates to a complete remodeling of the club room, which naturally leads to the student council taking it over because 'no club, especially one which completely lacks a practical purpose, has any business taking up a room newer than the student council's'.
At the same time, Kinshirou, softie that he is, can't bring himself to kick his beloved At-chan out of the room, so what ends up happening is that the Defense Club is amalgamated into the student council as a sub-committee that Kinshirou deems 'those inferior beings who require reformation' but Arima assures them is officially a branch of the disciplinary committee which specializes in preventing alien or external life forms from entering the school.
"A prestigious school like Binan Koukou only uses the latest in technological security systems," is how they sell it to the general public. The press club is very cooperative and helps them with all their propaganda. En isn't sure how much of that is to do with the inherent goodness of their hearts and how much is to do with the way Akoya's fist clenches every time they saunter into the room.
Either way, En isn't complaining too much about the way things have turned out. They have a massage chair now, which is probably the highlight of his high school life, and Atsushi seems happy, so all is well with the world as far as he's concerned.
All is well - except, maybe, for this one small matter.
"Are you going to eat that sandwich or not, Yufuin-senpai?"
Ryuu waves a hand in front of his face. En ignores it. Why do sandwiches have to have crusts? With all the advancements in the world nowadays, would it be that difficult to make crustless loaves? Or rindless watermelons? Or oranges that peel themselves? A small voice at the back of his mind tries to make some connection between filled buns and sandwiches, or maybe oranges and mandarins. En ignores that too.
"It's a waste of money to eat something that isn't fresh," advises Io from the corner of the room. He's mucking around on his tablet, as usual; probably playing solitaire or something. Io barely ever makes business decisions at meal times. He has a solid work ethic that includes time for relaxation and self-renewal. The physical and mental condition of the trader is revealed in the decisions they make, Io had said when En asked him. It seems like a reasonable answer.
"En-chan, are you sure you don't want to give me the crust?"
"No," En snaps immediately. "I don't know what you're talking about. I always eat the crust. The crust is the best part of the sandwich."
Four pairs of eyes turn to him with skepticism. The remaining three pairs are merely inquisitive.
Ryuu sinks back into one of the couches. "Of course you reply immediately to Kinugawa-senpai," he mutters. Kinshirou looks a little murderous at that, so En hurriedly tries to get things over with and bites into the sandwich.
"......"
Atsushi stares at him. En isn't sure what he looks like now, but he'd been pretty sure it's a look he'd thought he wouldn't wear until his wedding night.
"Atsushi," he moans, offering up the sandwich with outstretched arms. "Atsushi, please eat this."
"Told you he'd give in," Ryuu whispers, rather loudly. En doesn't even bother to correct him, because right now, the only thing that matters is what Atsushi thinks about this sandwich.
Atsushi bites into the sandwich with a put-upon sigh. Kinshirou is trembing with rage across from them, probably because Atsushi's grabbed En's hand to hold it steady while he takes a bite. En watches very, very carefully.
After a moment, Atsushi nods.
"Not bad," he begins, then freezes. His mouth falls open. His eyes start to sparkle, and his cheeks bloom with color. If this is what Atsushi looks like on his wedding night, En definitely wants to be there. Not in a weird way, though. Just---
He's not sure where he was going with that thought.
Atsushi stares at the sandwich as if it holds the answer to all of his troubles in life. To be fair, it solves the En-chan-giving-me-all-his-bread-crusts-without-anything-to-eat-them-with one, but there isn't anything in the world that could solve his I'm-cute-and-all-the-boys-like-me problem.
"En-chan," Atsushi whispers, voice full of love and other fuzzy emotions. "You gave this...to me...?"
There's no reason why he should sound so shocked. En shares all the good stuff in his life with Atsushi. That's what best friends do. He thinks. He hasn't really had another best friend before.
"Is it good or not?" Ryuu asks impatiently. "I can't tell anymore."
"It's - " Atsushi chokes up on the words.
"It's amazing," En declares.
"It's the most amazing sandwich I have ever eaten," Atsushi finishes.
"Sandwiches with crusts are for commoners!" shrieks Kinshirou suddenly. "The only acceptable sandwiches are those cut into triangles and served crustless for high teas!"
Arima takes out a notepad.
"Real sandwiches are made by hand," Kinshirou hisses. "The bread is white as snow and the fillings are sourced from premium farms across the country - no, across the world, if necessary! They are straight around the edges, their elegant shape carved by only the sharpest of knives! They - they do not use caged eggs and convenience store mayonnaise as a filling!"
Arima surreptitiously removes something from the tiered stand he's holding.
"There is no way a mere imitation, a convenience store-bought poser, can be worthy of the title of At-chan's favorite sandwich," Kinshirou continues. "I won't have it!"
He lunges for the sandwich suddenly. En has a vision of his wonderful sandwich, his incredible lunch, disappearing forever into Kinshirou's stomach. He stands up, chair toppling onto the carpet, and lunges for it as well.
"Eh?"
Atsushi barely has time to react before two large objects barrel into him, knocking him to the floor. The sandwhich flies out of his grasp ---
---and into Yumoto's arms. Yumoto takes a large bite and lets out a pleased squeal.
"It's so good!" he cries.
En sobs helplessly as the rest of his lunch disappears into Yumoto's mouth.
It's been twenty minutes since En entered the convenience store and he still hasn't found a sandwich like the one he bought this morning. Komi Shou is looking at him worriedly. He probably thinks En is going to try and shoplift something. He certainly looks suspicious enough, muttering under his breath while he rearranges the entire bakery section.
"Um, can I help you?"
"SANDWICHES," En yells desperately. The boy stares at him with wide, frightened eyes.
"What?"
"I bought a sandwich this morning. What did I buy?"
En buries his head in his hands. This is it. He will never again be able to eat a sandwich without remembering that one special egg sandwich. He will never again be able to eat sandwiches, period. Even buns, he thinks, might be off-limits to him now. He'll have to live off cup noodles and onigiri for the rest of his life.
"Oh!" Komi's face has drained of colour. He looks even more frightened, for some reason. "Was there a problem with it?"
"PROBLEM?" En shouts. "Yes, there was a problem with it! The problem is that it's not being sold right here, right now!"
Komi trembles. En's surprised the kid can even hear a thing over the sound of his teeth chattering. "Ah, we sold out not too long after you came in this morning --- "
"Will they be restocked?!"
Komi hesitates. He looks away.
"Ah," he begins, "they were kind of a limited edition item, so we're not sure if we'll be able to get more in or not..."
En sinks to the ground. His chest is tight and his eyes are burning. "It was so good," he mourns. "If I could have had just one more bite..."
Silence. Komi's eyes are still wide when En eventually looks up, but they don't seem frightened anymore. A blush has spread over his cheeks.
"We might still have some stuff in the fridge," he says tentatively. En shoots to his feet and grabs Komi's arm. "If you're willing to wait ten minutes, I can make you something."
En lets go. "I don't want your food," he says dismissively. "I didn't come here because I was hungry. I want that sandwich, the one I bought - "
" - this morning, I know." Komi cocks his head to the side and gives En an embarrassed smile. "One of our deliveries didn't arrive, so I thought I'd make something to replace them. I was worried you thought they weren't up to the usual standard."
It takes a moment for the words to sink in.
"Oh," says En, overwhelmed. "You cook?"
Komi nods. En wants to marry him.
"A lot of people have said that to me today," the boy murmurs thoughtfully.
"I can't believe you were worried I'd think this was bad," says En, several sandwiches later. "This is unbelievable."
"To be honest," Komi replies, "I was at school most of the day, and you were the second one to come in after I started work. The first guy just rushed in, told me the sandwiches at the store were crazy, and dashed out again."
"Crazy good," corrects Yufuin. "That is definitely what he had intended to say."
"I thought I'd been too ambitious," says Komi, looking down at his plate shyly, "but I've always liked working with food, even if it's something as simple as a sandwich."
"You should meet Atsushi," En suggests. If Komi and Atsushi become good friends, En will have home-cooked meals for the rest of his life.
"You mean Kinugawa-senpai?"
En nods. Komi turns to him with a speculative look.
"I tried his curry during the school festival and it was fantastic," he says. "If he'd be willing......"
"Yes," En answers in Atsushi's stead. He's maybe almost certainly sure that Atsushi wouldn't say no. Especially not to such a cute kouhai. Komi's eyes are shimmering eagerly, like how Yumoto looks after a good cuddle. And even if Atsushi wavered due to the negative influences of trivial things like homework and preparing for the future, En was definitely sure that Atsushi wouldn't say no to him if he whined like a child enough.
"Are you sure? I'm sure you and Kinugawa-senpai are both really busy, and I wouldn't want to impose..."
Atsushi had spent last Saturday doing a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle of Hatsune Miku. "Yes."
"Wait, what?"
When Atsushi opens the door, En almost regrets bringing Komi along. At that single instant in time, Atsushi looks more delicious in his sweatpants and threadbare T-shirt than any sandwich Komi can make. The moment doesn't last too long, though, because En is starving and he really wants curry like, now.
"I'm a huge fan of your cooking!" Komi blurts out, bowing like his life depends on it. "Please do me the honor of letting me assisting you today!"
Taken aback, Atsushi looks at En, who shrugs nonchalantly, as if this whole thing hadn't been his idea. It doesn't seem to work; Atsushi's face settles into an unimpressed look. He smiles at Komi, though - how could you not, when the kid was so cute - and beckons them both in.
As Komi skips ahead to the kitchen, oblivious, Atsushi pokes En in the stomach. It hurts. "You didn't tell me we were making curry today," he says meaningfully. En tries to look apologetic, he really does, but the prospect of combined Atsushi-Komi cooking is making his mouth water already.
With a long-suffering sigh, Atsushi pokes him in the stomach again and goes off to show Komi around the house. En stares after them with a fond look. Hopefully after this Komi will start coming to Atsushi's house regularly and cooking for them. That would free up Atsushi so he can do other, more important things, such as joining En for naptime on his totally-not-that-expensive plush couch.
"En-chan!"
Atsushi's voice knocks him out of his daydream. He's not too upset, though, because Atsushi and Komi are both wearing aprons like good little housewives and En is really very satisfied with his life right now. "Hm?"
"You're drooling," says Atsushi pointedly, and Komi blushes. "You don't usually get this excited about my curry."
There's a note of warning in Atsushi's tone, somehow, but En can't quite place it. He looks at Komi, instead, who looks equal parts embarrassed and starstruck. En can sort of understand that look, so he decides to address the kid instead. Atsushi's pretty patient; he can wait a bit. "Hey, Shou, did you bring the ingredients?"
Shou holds up a plastic bag full of groceries and dumps it on the benchtop. Yeah, there are definitely perks to being friends with the son of the convenience store guy. As he sinks down into a chair at the kitchen table, En wonders vaguely if it had been appropriate to start calling the kid by his first name already. He is the elder in this situation, so he's pretty sure Shou won't object too much to it. It's a cute first name; En wants to know how it would sound in Atsushi's soothing voice too.
"You guys do get along," Atsushi remarks. The warning tone En had noticed before is gone, but there's still something off about Atsushi's voice. It gnaws at En like Yumoto on a steak, or Kinshirou on his fingernails. The latter habit is pretty gross, actually. En hears fingernails can have twice as much bacteria on them as hands do. Someone as obsessed with propriety as Kinshirou should know better.
Still, En doesn't mind Kinshirou's quirks that much. The guy's always been troublesome, the epitome of human contrariness, but En's never really liked perfect people anyway. He can respect how well Kinshirou manages to get a school as old as Binan to live up to its extensive history of good repute and high standards. If Kinshirou can do that while struggling with the normal trials of adolescence, then good for him. It makes En respect him just that little bit more.
Atsushi has such good taste in friends. That's what makes En sure that Shou will slide easily into Atsushi's heart. Honestly, the only real lapse in judgement Atsushi's made in that way is En himself, and En is hardly going to apologize for that. He tries his best every now and then to make sure he's not too much of a burden, after all.
It seems Atsushi has given up on getting a response out of him. The rich scent of onions wafts over to En, sliding buttery goodness over his senses, and he shifts impatiently in his chair. He hears Shou murmur something to Atsushi, and wonders idly what they're talking about. It's probably something curry-related, but he hopes they can start talking about other things too, soon. He vaguely remembers that his friendship with Atsushi had started in a similar way.
The next time En opens his eyes, he's alone in the kitchen, the curry pot bubbling away on the stove to his left. He follows the low hum of Atsushi's voice to the living room and sees Shou gesturing at a diagram of some sort of vegetable. Atsushi's smiling politely, agreeable as always, and En leans against the wall so he can watch them without getting his feet too tired.
It takes maybe ten minutes before they notice him standing there. When they do, Atsushi gets to his feet and pads over to En. Atsushi's feet are really cute in those striped socks; En is going to buy more for him the next time he goes shopping. Then Atsushi can look cute in socks En bought.
"Is the curry ready?" En shrugs. It smells alright, but he can't really tell much more than that. Atsushi brushes past him into the kitchen, smiling genially, and En figures the weird feeling from earlier must just have been his own imagination.
"Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak with Kinugawa-senpai," says Shou when Atsushi is out of sight. "I learnt a lot!"
"Then I can look forward to seeing your curry katsu sandwiches at the convenience store?" En asks, attempting not to look too eager. Shou smiles shyly, the sort of smile that makes En want to smush the kid's cheeks together.
"We'll see how this one turns out first," Shou replies, and that reminds En of Atsushi, stirring away at the pot in the kitchen by himself. A little guilty, he pokes his head into the kitchen and coughs loudly to get his friend's attention.
"Smells great," he says, when Atsushi turns around. En gives him a thumbs up and a grin that hopefully isn't too drooly. It's difficult enough to control himself over the curry; having to watch Atsushi hard at work at the same time is just unfair.
Atsushi holds up the ladle and swipes a finger across it to taste. "I think it's just about ready," he tells En, "so do you think you could help me set out the table?"
Usually, this is where En would agree and sit down to wait without doing anything, but he has to set a good example for Shou so the kid can do it next time, so he yanks open the drawers and starts throwing cutlery around. In less than a minute the plates are perfectly centered on placemats, pairs of chopsticks lying parallel by their sides. He dares even Kinshirou to find fault with the sharp creases in his napkins.
Atsushi heaves the pot off the stove and sets it down in the centre of the table. He glances, slightly surprised, at En's impeccable table-setting skills. "En-chan, you can't eat curry with chopsticks."
Shou slides some forks and spoons across the table. What a quick learner. "I hope you don't mind me poking around your cupboards, Kinugawa-senpai!"
"That's my Shou!" En declares happily. "Let's eat~"
Naturally, it's the best curry En has ever had. Even the accompanying rice is amazing.
"The sesame seeds and turmeric were Shou-kun's idea," Atsushi explains. "I think they add a bit of color to the rice."
"They add a bit of color to my life," En mumbles, gulping down his fourth serving. Atsushi hasn't even finished his first yet; he really needs to eat more. Even young Shou is on his second bowl. "Shou, I wish I had met you earlier."
At that, Shou goes bright red, dropping his spoon back onto the plate as it's halfway to his mouth. "Th-thank you, Yufuin-senpai."
Atsushi suddenly breaks into a fit of coughing. Alarmed, En reaches over and pats him on the back. When the coughing subsides, En starts rubbing circles instead. He's not sure if he's helping or not, but it feels sort of like the right thing to do. "Curry too spicy for you, Atsushi?"
"Just went down the wrong way," Atsushi gasps. "Don't mind me."
En washes up for everyone anyway, just in case it's something serious. Atsushi tends to neglect his own health and overwork himself, which means he needs someone to make sure he spends an adequate number of hours lazing around. That's En's job, of course.
"So," he says when he's finished, "who wants to watch The Daily Cuteness of High School Girls?"
Shou's eyes go round. "You guys watch that too?"
Several days later, En is on his way to school with Atsushi when they pass by the convenience store.
"I'm just going to buy something quick," he says. Atsushi looks at him in dismay.
"We're already late!"
"I'll be in and out in a second!" En promises, "I just have to buy lunch."
"I already made lunch," says Atsushi, frowning. En really wants a sandwich, though, and Atsushi always makes rice bentos.
"You can have my portion," he tells Atsushi. "You're too thin, anyway." He dashes into the convenience store.
Atsushi doesn't say anything when En walks back out with a chicken katsu sandwich and a blissful smile a moment later, but he hangs out with Kinshirou during lunch and leaves En to Akoya, who's nice enough to look at but seems offended by anything En says.
"How can you even consider talking about takeaway containers in public?" Akoya hisses, covering his eyes. "They're so dirty and - and public."
"What's wrong with talking about public things in public?" En wonders. The student council will always be a mystery to him.
More of a mystery, at the moment, is the way Atsushi is acting. En doesn't mind if Atsushi wants to spend more time with Kinshirou sometimes, but Atsushi usually understands that spending more time with Kinshirou means giving En a time bonus, too, and solves the problem by sitting between them at lunch, or something.
Today, Atsushi has spread across the couch in a way that makes it impossible to sit down without getting an elbow to the thigh, or something equally bizarre. En's tried. For some reason, Kinshirou manages to sit down without obtaining any painful injuries. As expected of the student council president, En thinks. He's pretty amazing.
"Did you have a fight with Kinugawa-senpai?" Ryuu stage-whispers. En pushes him away the same way he'd pushed away similar thoughts that had intruded into his mind earlier. There's no reason for them to be fighting, after all, unless...
"You guys haven't been making monsters again, have you?" he wonders aloud. Three pairs of eyes glare at him. "Okay. Sorry."
It's strange, but maybe Atsushi is just feeling a little different, today. En's sure things will go back to normal soon.
They don't.
When En arrives at Atsushi's house on Saturday evening as usual, Atsushi's father answers the door and explains in apologetic tones that his son isn't quite up to having visitors today.
"Is he sick?" En asks. Atsushi's father looks mildly uncomfortable.
"It's, ah, it's an enterotoxic escherichia coli infection," he says. "Quite serious, you know."
"Okay," says En. "Do you want me to go get some medicine?"
Atsushi's father is a doctor. That had been a stupid question to ask.
"Then are you sure I can't stay and keep him company?" En asks hopefully. "I can bring him water and stuff so you guys don't have to worry."
"You're a good boy," says Atsushi's father, "but we'd like Atsushi to rest for a bit. I'm sorry."
"No, it's alright," says En, but something decidedly not-alright starts to twist at the bottom of his stomach. Perhaps, he thinks later when he's reading all about stomach bugs, he has an enterotoxic escherichia coli infection as well. He reads that it's a pretty common cause of minor stomach upset, after all, although that in turn makes him wonder why Atsushi's father had said it was quite serious.
Atsushi is back at school on Monday, looking perfectly healthy, if a bit tired, so En figures Atsushi's father must have been overly worried. Being a doctor and seeing so many patients come in with complicated problems might make you a bit paranoid, he reasons.
"Hey, Atsushi, can I come over today?"
Atsushi runs a hand through his hair, not meeting En's gaze. "Ah, I actually have a lot of work to catch up on, you know, because I was sick, so I don't think I can have anyone over this week."
That weekend, it's Atsushi's mother who answers the door.
"Atsushi is...he's with his cousin at the moment, so he can't see you today."
"I can hear him walking around the house," En points out.
"I mean - I mean his cousin is with us for the weekend," Atsushi's mother explains. "Sorry."
En leaves, but he doesn't go home.
"Do you think it's something I did?" he asks Shou, several dozen cookies later. Shou stops halfway through filling in Usa-chan's eyelashes on a special order from the (now defunct and completely unofficial) anime club.
"I don't know, Yufuin-senpai. Are you sure you can't think of anything?"
En has thought a lot about what he could have done. He can think of many, many things, but Atsushi's never minded them before. "Maybe he just got sick of me," he says gloomily, reaching for a Yuya-chan cookie. Shou slaps his wrist.
"Enough cookies, Yufuin-senpai," he says. "You're already starting to develop a belly."
En stares at Shou, horrified. "I am not."
Shou eyes En's stomach pointedly. "You can go check for yourself. Buy one of the hand mirrors from downstairs if you're going to do that, though."
"You're so stingy," En complains, but Shou's essentially been giving him free food all this week, so he buys the most expensive one anyway.
"I don't really know what's going on with Atsushi," En admits, cramming a slice of cake into his mouth. Ryuu looks at him uneasily.
"Firstly, why is that cake blue? Also, if you keep eating like that you're going to get fat."
"It used to be Miku's hair, and I don't even care anymore," says En. "Shou's cooking is what keeps me going nowadays."
"He means that in the literal sense," Io says, eyeing En with vague disgust. "I don't think I've seen you eat anything but anime-themed cakes and idol cookies for weeks."
"Shou makes curry and omurice for dinner," En says. There's a vague prickling sensation at the side of his head, as if someone is trying to drill holes in his head with his eyes, but he assumes that must be Kinshirou, as usual.
Strangely, when he turns around to check, Kinshirou isn't even looking at him. "I made too much again," Atsushi is saying cheerily, "so you can have this if you like."
En is utterly jealous. Atsushi's bentos are a gift from a higher life form. He crams another slice of cake into his mouth to distract himself from the sight of all that delicious curry being wasted on someone who isn't him.
"Does he not want to see me?" he asks finally. It's been a month since he's last seen Atsushi out of school. He misses Atsushi. He's been missing him ever since that very first weekend.
"It's not like that!" Atsushi's parents cry in unison. That's somewhat encouraging, but not as encouraging as seeing Atsushi would be. He stares dolefully at Atsushi's parents until they crack.
"Why don't you drop by next week and see how things are?" Atsushi's father suggests.
Atsushi's father is a good man.
Sure enough, when En arrives the following Saturday, Atsushi greets him, albeit with a somewhat forced smile. En shoulders past him into the house before Atsushi can change his mind and kick him out.
"Have you been avoiding me?" he asks. "Did I do something wrong?"
Atsushi looks horribly uncomfortable, which is essentially confirmation that En is to blame for this whole mess. "Don't worry about it," his friend says at last. "Have you eaten?"
En's face softens into elation. "Yeah, Shou made udon." He allows himself a short moment to reminisce on how nice and chewy Shou's handmade noodles had been.
"Oh," replies Atsushi shortly. "Well, I haven't eaten yet, so I might just cook something."
"Can I help?" En asks. He's so starved for attention he's willing to do anything right now to spend time with Atsushi. Besides, he's spent the past few weeks watching a master chef at work; he should have picked something up by now. "Actually, the other day I saw Komi do this thing with the rice that -- "
"Ah, I'm actually having noodles with my curry today," says Atsushi, emptying the rice pot back into the bag. "Why don't you sit down and have a nap?"
En doesn't want a nap. He walks up to Atsushi and wraps his arm around his friend's neck. "Can't I nap here?"
Atsushi ducks out of his hold. "I'm cooking. Bye."
It's not that En can't take a hint. Everything about Atsushi screams don't talk to me right now. It's just that En likes talking to Atsushi. He'd thought Atsushi liked spending time with him, too.
Evidently, in the hierarchy of things that Atsushi wants to spend time with, En now falls below Kinshirou, cousins, jigsaw puzzles and ramen. Some of those are understandable, but Atsushi doesn't even like ramen that much.
It's not even just Atsushi anymore. For some reason, Kinshirou is glaring at him more nowadays; if the student council president spends any more time with his brows drawn tight like that, they're going to merge into a monobrow. Honestly, En has no idea what's got Kinshirou going. If En was eating Atsushi's bentos every day, he'd have a smile glued permanently to his face by the formidable power of cumin and fenugreek.
Even Arima looks at him with cold eyes. En can't help feeling like he's done something wrong, but he really can't think what. The only thing that distracts him from the black hole of unhappiness that is his life right now is Shou's cooking.
Incidentally, lunch today is a chicken and mushroom pithivier that tastes absolutely divine.
"En, stop moaning." Ryuu kicks his chair.
"Sorry," En says. He glances over at Atsushi for what must be the hundredth time that hour. Amazingly, this time their eyes meet. Atsushi looks equal parts embarrassed and outraged; as per usual nowadays, En has no idea why. Is he no longer allowed to even look at his friend?
Things like this would usually be too troublesome to think about, but Atsushi has always been worth it. What is troublesome is that even when he stays up until the dawn wondering about it, En still can't find a solution.
"Do you like me better, or ramen?" he asks after another frustrating evening of being exiled to the lounge while Atsushi cooks; curry, this time, beef vindaloo with a spicy scent that permeates the air and makes En light-headed. Mr and Mrs Kinugawa have started to give him pitying looks, and En can't make head or tail of the meaningful looks they send Atsushi.
This, at least, has some effect.
"What?"
"Which is more important to you: me or ramen?"
Atsushi looks bewildered. Good. Maybe now he'll understand how En's been feeling all this time. "Where did this come from?"
He hadn't even bothered to answer the question. Moreover, En starts random conversation threads all the time, at least in Atsushi's opinion. They flow of the conversation always makes sense to En himself, but Atsushi should be used to the confusion by now. It's yet another sign that they've been spending far too long apart.
En takes another vicious bite of the Belgian waffle Shou had given him earlier that day. At least Shou's food is always consistent. He leans in for another bite, but as he does, he sees a pale blur and he mouth meets something decidedly not soft and waffle-y.
With a pained cry, Atsushi pulls his hand back from En's mouth and cradles it against his chest. "What did you do that for?" En asks, disconcerted. The rest of his waffle is resting sadly on the ground, cursed to be forever uneaten. Even so, it's a small price to pay for the taste of Atsushi in his mouth. For all that he'd been grossed out by Kinshirou's nail-biting habit, En would gladly go to war with hordes of bacteria if it meant being able to run his tongue around Atsushi's fingertips and chew on the bony part of Atsushi's wrist.
"Shou-kun made that, didn't he?"
En nods. Atsushi's face turns bright red and he presses his lips together as if struggling to hold back his words. En watches him puff up in indignation and wonders what Shou has to do with anything.
"Who do you like better: me or Shou?" Atsushi demands finally. En blinks. Hadn't he asked Atsushi a similar question not even two minutes ago?
"I asked you first."
"I'm asking you now!"
They glare at each other. En's stubborn, but Atsushi's more stubborn, and if the past month has been anything to go by, En might be a little more attached to Atsushi than Atsushi is to him. If giving Atsushi the right answer will make him forgive En for whatever transgression he's committed, En is willing to swallow down that part of himself that yells but I asked him first.
Of course I like you better, is what he tries to say, but he swallows it back before it can leave his throat. Does Atsushi want to be placated, or does he want an honest answer? En's never had an exam question this difficult before.
"It's like you're asking me to compare dinner to dessert," he says at last. He's not sure how his voice sounds to Atsushi - whiny, maybe, or bored - but he's honestly pleading right now. He doesn't know what Atsushi wants from him. He doesn't know how to make things better.
"Don't make that face," Atsushi says, looking away. What face? En wonders, but he hurriedly tries to rearrange his face into something that won't make Atsushi look like he's been slapped. "In any case, isn't dinner more important? You can't live off dessert, after all."
"But dessert makes you happy," En points out. "Isn't that just as important?"
Atsushi screws up his face and actually throws a tea towel at En. "Do my dinners not make you happy, then?"
"You don't even make me dinner anymore!" En protests. "Besides, that's got nothing to do with what we were talking about!"
"Doesn't it?" Atsushi tugs off his apron and brandishes it at En before tossing it out of the kitchen. Then he grabs the ladle and brandishes that at En, too. "Doesn't it? Weren't we talking about you and me?"
By the time he's done talking, Atsushi has stepped so close En can see his chest heave under thin cotton, and hear his noisy breathing fill air that is suddenly too thick for words. He looks at the dark blush on Atsushi's cheeks, mind racing through what he can remember of the conversation in an attempt to validate or invalidate Atsushi's statement, but suddenly all he can think is he's so warm. Furious or not, Atsushi always looks so alive.
"Why do you think I've been holed up in the kitchen every single day, trying to make something nice for once, only to have you turn up at school with yet another of those stupid, unhealthy anime cakes Shou-kun's made you?"
En's sluggish brain tries to parse the onslaught of words.
"You never had a problem with my cooking before," Atsushi continues, "but now that you have your precious Shou-kun, you won't eat rice anymore? Don't you know how many calories must be in a single one of those cookies you eat a dozen of every day? I'm surprised you can still fit into your clothes!"
"At least I'm eating enough, unlike a certain someone!" En snaps. It's the first thing that comes into his mind, but it's the last thing he wants to say.
The moment those words escape into the space between them, Atsushi freezes, still holding the ladle above his head. He seems unaware of the curry spilling down from it onto the kitchen tiles; it's that, or he doesn't care. Instinctively, En reaches out to catch one of the drips and licks his finger afterwards.
"It's good," he says, because it is.
"Better than Shou-kun's cooking?" asks Atsushi, and En feels like crying.
He remembers the way they'd met, and the first meal they'd ever shared. Didn't you say you liked curry? Atsushi had asked, waving around the discount ticket for the curry shop, and looked outraged when En had said yeah, but as we were walking here I thought I might get some manjuu instead. Naturally, that was followed by why did you come all the way here with me, then? and, just as naturally: I'll still need somewhere to sit, though; I'll get something with the coupon and you can have my bit. You've always been far too skinny. Atsushi hadn't understood what those words meant, back then. Now here they are, years later, and they're arguing about food again, and En wonders why Atsushi still doesn't understand. His fists don't clench, but his heart does, and his teeth pull tight against one another, straining against words that form in languages En can't vocalise.
"If I had to choose, I'd choose dinner," he says, voice tripping even over such simple sounds, "but why can't I have dessert, too?"
He sounds like a spoilt child, but Atsushi's never minded that before. En's so tightly wound he feels he's going to burst out of frustration. Atsushi's face twists, a mixture of emotions that En doesn't have the energy to interpret right now.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Something clicks, suddenly, in the back of En's mind. He doesn't fully understand it himself, but somehow he has an inkling that Atsushi might actually have gotten the gist of it this time, which means, maybe, maybe, that Atsushi still cares enough to try and straighten out the tangled paths En's mind goes down.
"What's there to cheat on?" he asks. "Don't you hang out with both me and Kinshirou all the time?"
Atsushi grips his shoulders and shakes; he feels Atsushi's fingers, unusually cold, dig painfully into his collarbone. After a minute, all the strength seems to drain out of Atsushi; his head hangs low and his fingers ease up until they're nothing but a feather-light chill against En's skin. They're trembling.
"That's different," Atsushi insists. He grits the words out like sandpaper on his tongue, dust and remnants of thought falling from his lips in broken pieces. "Kin-chan is a childhood friend. He's a friend, and you, you're -- "
En can't even protest that Atsushi is a childhood friend too, can't even wonder how this is different, because Atsushi's words won't stop ringing in his mind. If En isn't a childhood friend, then what is he?
Atsushi is silent for a long time.
"You're my best friend," he says at last. En feels like there's something big lurking underneath those words, something that could break them apart if he's not careful, so he skirts around it for now and ducks lower to take a look at Atsushi's downcast face.
"Hey," he says, and repeats it when Atsushi doesn't reply. "Together forever, right?"
A childish promise, maybe, and easy to break, but somehow, when Atsushi finally looks back at him and smiles, En feels --
He feels like forever isn't long enough after all.