Chapter Text
“Inumaki-senpai? Yeah! Oh my god, I saw.”
Yuuta can’t help but overhear the girls in the back of his class snickering as they exchange this weeks latest gossip.
“He was totally making out with him.”
Yuuta leans back in his seat, turning his head slightly in an attempt to hear what they’re saying more clearly. He’s not usually one for hearsay, especially when it’s at the expense of someone else, but this particular topic is of interest.
Inumaki Toge, one year ahead of Yuuta, is well-known for being popular around campus. He’s top of his class, athletic, and objectively gorgeous. Objectively, because Yuuta can’t say he knows exactly how to tell when it comes to other guys. What he does know is that Inumaki-senpai’s hair looks soft, his eyes bright, and for someone that doesn’t audibly speak he has quite the attitude.
In truth, Yuuta’s more than a bit intimidated by him.
He’s not sure if the scenario the girls are outlining has any validity to it, but from what he can put together it seems someone in the next class over caught a glimpse of Inumaki kissing another male classmate between third and fourth period. They had been tucked away in one of the far reaches of the schools, usually just used for storage and doesn’t get much traffic, when an unsuspecting underclassman stumbled upon them while searching for festival supplies. Inumaki is fabled to have been pressed against a wall, a slightly taller senpai pressing his body against him and ‘going absolutely mad’ with his tongue down his throat.
At least, that’s how the girls had worded it.
Yuuta can’t say he particularly cares what people do with their spare time, and he especially can’t speak on whether his classmates should be kissing each other or not. Even so, something sparks in Yuuta’s gut at the visual. His senpai’s slender body pressed against someone else’s, lips sliding against one another, the soft huffs and sighs Inumaki might be making as a tongue is shoved into the reaches of his mouth…
Does this mean Inumaki has a boyfriend? He can’t help but wonder. Not that it matters if he does.
It shouldn’t matter.
Yuuta banishes the thought. It’s none of his business. He has other things he has to focus on and a festival to prepare for.
*
The day of the school festival is the day Yuuta nearly dies of embarrassment, his class having stuck him with the job of ‘host’ for their cosplay cafe. He’s dressed as a popular idol: a well-known celebrity that’s fawned over for his looks as much as his voice. The girls in his class had sworn Yuuta looks near identical to him, and they all squeal when he enters the room, his cheeks burning as bright as the cherry-red skinny pants he squeezed himself into.
Being in the spotlight is Yuuta’s worst nightmare. Flying under the radar is how he spends most of his time, only aiming to pass his classes and get through another day with his dignity intact. He’s not great at social interaction. It’s like his brain shuts down when he has to think of something to say, and the words come out as a jumbled, fumbled mess. He’s always been this way, unable to have a normal conversation without overthinking. He’s been told he undervalues himself, that he should be more confident; Yuuta’s problem is he doesn’t know what he has to be confident about.
He’s best in the shadows—watching from the sidelines. A background character in the main plot of which people like Inumaki Toge star.
Even through his neurosis, Yuuta carries out his duties of greeting people at the door and leading them to their seats. The worst of all, though, are the photos he poses for with numerous female classmates. He forces a smile; even does his best to pose a certain way per their requests. It’s not like he knows anything about the guy he’s dressed as. He’s simply following orders.
If Yuuta thought he was struggling to keep it together before, it doesn’t compare to the sheer panic he feels when the next person stepping up the podium he’s stationed at is none other than the last person he could ever work up the courage to interact with.
Light purple eyes meet his, sultry and kind, the bottom half of his face covered by a black, fabric mask. Yuuta misses a beat—a few beats—before finally snapping back to the moment.
“Welcome to the class 1-B Cosplay Cafe!” He does his best to sound welcoming, even as his voice shakes. “I can show you to a table.” Inumaki nods, waving to the two fellow second years trailing behind him. Yuuta pads over to an empty table, handing them their menus and bowing before returning to his post.
Yuuta continues on about his duties: greeting, seating, posing, watching the clock and praying for the sweet relief of the end of his shift. With every pass by his senpai’s table, Yuuta can feel eyes on him. A couple of times he dares to look, catching eye contact before quickly looking away. Inumaki doesn’t even trying to hide his staring. Confident. Shameless.
By the time he’s free to go, Yuuta promptly retreats to the library. He doesn’t have any plans for the rest of the festival, or much of an interest in the other activities. The table in the far left corner is where he often finds himself and has become a respite; a home away from home. It’s his favorite spot on campus, being the only place where it’s actually mandated to be quiet, and during the festival it’s guaranteed he’ll be the only one interested in being here.
He’s busy getting a head start on the summer reading list when the door creeks open, echoing between the walls of the empty library. Yuuta doesn’t look up from his book. The affairs of whoever is here aren’t his business. That is, until the chair beside him is pulled back, and a blur of blonde flashes in his peripherals.
Yuuta expects someone to speak up. Maybe a chiding comment about how he’s wasting his time, missing the festival, or how lame he is for choosing to read instead of heckling during the cosplay fashion show that he could literally not care less about if he tries—but nothing comes. Instead, Yuuta stares at the page that has morphed into nothing but black and white splotches along with his thoughts.
When he dares to lift his head, he doesn’t meet eyes, but the dark green back of a hardcover book, much like his own.
The face it conceals is none other than Inumaki-senpai, his purple eyes darting from page to page as he peacefully focuses on the words as they pass. Yuuta is stunned silent. If he doesn’t know what to say to him when everyone else is around, he especially doesn’t know what to say when they’re completely alone.
Yuuta’s blood runs hot, nearly boiling over and seeping through his pores as the gears in his head spin frantically. He must be staring, because before long Inumaki averts his focus, looking up at Yuuta with a curious expression. His head cocks to the side, eyebrows knitting as if he’s waiting for an explanation.
Oh, right. Yuuta is literally staring at the guy and probably visibly sweating.
In the end, Yuuta decides not to say anything at all, finding it better to preserve his image and go back to silently pretending to read while his racing thoughts run their course.
*
It shouldn’t be surprising. Yuuta is the easiest one in the class to fool, and so he’s stuck doing most of the clean up on his own. The rest of his classmates had mentioned something about karaoke and ice cream, but Yuuta didn’t get an invitation. Just a ‘thanks Okkotsu, you really are a life saver!’ before they were off.
He’s been at it for probably close to an hour now, and the majority of the dirty work is taken care of. Most of what’s left now is stacking the chairs, and he’s pretty used to doing that one on his own. When he really considers things, it makes sense that he would be left to do this on his own. He did bail on the rest of the festival. He probably deserves it. He doesn’t mind to do his part.
The door to the classroom slides open and Yuuta startles. He had assumed he was the only one left, except for maybe a janitor sent to lock up after him. Again he’s met with soft, violet eyes. Inumaki peers at him from the doorway, his expression curious and searching as if he’s, yet again, waiting for an explanation.
Yuuta can’t leave him hanging twice in one day.
“Hey, senpai. You didn’t go home?” Yuuta stammers out, his voice shaking as he lifts a chair to slot on top of another. Inumaki’s eyes follow his movements, up and then back down again as his arms continue to work. He shakes his head in response, sliding the door behind him and meeting Yuuta in the center of the room.
“Oh, uh, why’s that?” Yuuta’s arms tremble under his senpai’s gaze, feeling like the cells from this weeks lab assignment: under a microscope, completely laid bare.
Inumaki rustles around in the bag flung over his shoulder and pulls out his phone, tapping at the screen briefly before waving it at Yuuta.
His brain short circuits briefly before putting the situation together, fumbling for his own phone and removing it from his pocket. Inumaki holds the ends of their phone’s together until they ding, pulling his back and sending a message.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: it’s easier to talk this way
Yuuta looks up from his phone, his cheeks heating at the name that’s now programmed as his senpai’s contact. Maybe he should edit that.
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Yuuta nods, having completely stopped his work, losing himself in whatever the hell is happening right now.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: I was busy cleaning up
“Ohhh, yeah uh, me too.” Yuuta mentally kicks himself. “I mean, obviously. You can see that, haha.”
The corners of Inumaki’s eyes turn up along with what appears to be a smile spreading beneath his mask. Yuuta’s heart catches in his throat. This guy is criminally pretty.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: you didn’t choose to be here alone, did you?
Yuuta pauses, rereading the question a few times before sighing. He’s not sure what to say, but anything other than the truth would probably just make him look even more pathetic. It’s not like it’s a secret how much of an outcast he is, and Inumaki is as tuned in as they come.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Inumaki squints at him suspiciously, pausing a beat before returning his phone to its home in his bag.
That’s that, and Yuuta assumes he’s blown it—conversation over. Inumaki, like the rest, is sure to have lost interest by now. He curses his awkwardness as he reaches for another chair, turning his back to lessen the sting at the sight of his pretty senpai’s exit when suddenly he hears clacking metal on the other side of the room.
Inumaki has gotten to work, lifting a chair effortlessly over his head and slotting it on top of a tall tower of others. Yuuta watches in shock, both at the fact that Inumaki could do that in the first place, but also because he chose to… stay? Even more so that he chose to help someone like Yuuta.
“Senpai, you really don’t have to do that.” Yuuta insists, but he’s met with silence as Inumaki continues to skillfully stack chairs without pause.
Yuuta’s heart swells for a moment, curiosity overcome by warmth, and he decides it’s not worth questioning further. The two work for another 15 minutes, stacking the chairs before giving the floor a final sweep. They remain silent, only passing glances between them as they cross paths. Before long the room is back to it’s former state, and Yuuta is gathering his things. His phone dings in his pocket, and he unlocks it to another couple messages from his senpai.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: don’t let people push you around
[ Inumaki-kun ]: cya monday okkotsu-kun
Yuuta chokes at the nickname, whirling around to find he’s already alone in the classroom.
*
Monday morning Yuuta is stuck nodding awkwardly at classmates as he passes them in the hallway, most of which are complimenting his look in the festival photos posted online over the weekend. Yuuta wouldn’t know; he’s not really into social media, or seeing photos of himself for that matter. He trudges past rows of lockers and groups of people idling by the wall, exchanging homework and catching up on how they spent their days off. Yuuta hadn’t done a whole lot, mostly just focusing on studying for the end of the year exams and helping his mom around the house.
By all other standards the day is normal, and Yuuta coasts through his classes until it’s finally time for free period. This is his favorite time of the day, when he can cozy into his designated seat in the library and drift away into the depths of a book—even if those books are assignments.
In truth, Yuuta likes all kinds of books. He’s yet to find a genre he doesn’t enjoy. To him, it’s the ultimate form of escapism, shielding him from the harsh reality of his own life and allowing him to take refuge in fictional worlds. Each word is like a stepping stone, a trail leading him down a winding path towards a new destiny, somewhere he can forget all he is and all he lacks.
Typically the table Yuuta occupies remains empty, waiting for him to return each day. Whether it’s his presence that drives others away or just a coincidence, he’s not sure, but today when he arrives at the library it’s clear that things are about to change for Okkotsu Yuuta.
Seated in the same spot as the day of the festival is Inumaki, head buried in a different book than before and halfway through it by the looks of it. Yuuta recognizes it as the second title on their summer reading list, and his skin tingles at the realization that it’s the same one he had intended to dive into today. He weighs his options as he stands frozen just inside the doorway, his fingers gripping tightly around his backpack’s strap. Before he can land on a course of action, Inumaki looks up from his book and offers a welcoming greeting, waving his hand and beckoning Yuuta over to him.
Yuuta’s feet move on their own.
His phone dings as he takes his seat.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: how was your weekend, okkotsu-kun?
Yuuta pauses, scanning the room before opting to reply via text. The last thing he wants to do is draw attention in his haven of quiet.
[ Yuuta ]: fine. studied for exams. how about you, senpai?
His shoulders are tense, albeit a bit less than usual, as he retrieves his book from his backpack and opens it to the marked page. Another ding.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: do you always study in your free time? what about fun?
Yuuta quickly realizes that tone indication isn’t exactly easy over text. It’s one of the reasons why he doesn’t do it. Though, he doesn’t really like socializing in general. He can never tell what people mean, and he’s not great with reading playfulness or sarcasm. Though, after what his senpai did for him the following week, he’s inclined to assume he’s being friendly.
That’s what he’s going with, anyways.
[ Yuuta ]: studying can be fun
Yuuta doesn’t miss the snicker before his senpai is tapping back on his phone, his book overturned on the table top indefinitely.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: you like books, right?
[ Yuuta ]: yeah, obviously
Inumaki looks up from his phone to see Yuuta waving the book around in front of his face with a playful smirk. Inumaki rolls his eyes, cheeks bunching beneath his mask. Yuuta wishes he could see the smile underneath.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: take a break from being the model student and check this one out
Inumaki slides a book across the table. It’s a little ragged, hard cover but missing the dust jacket, nothing printed on the front. Blank, worn out. Yuuta can relate.
Though he hesitates, he ultimately accepts the offer, stuffing the book carefully into his bag and zipping it up.
[ Yuuta ]: i do know how to have fun you know
At that, Inumaki audibly laughs, quiet and raspy. Yuuta swallows a gasp.
He has never heard the guy even make a sound, but an unusual sense of pride fills his chest at the notion that his words made Inumaki laugh. Somehow. In truth, he has no idea what’s happening or what his senpai expects from him.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: we’ll see
With that, Inumaki pockets his phone, a clear indication that it’s time to regain focus, returning to his book and silently thumbing through the pages. Yuuta chews on the words of his senpai’s last message, unsure of what he means, but intrigued nonetheless.
*
The rest of the week goes as normal, the school hours droning on day after day; projects, presentations, exam study, avoiding interaction with classmates at all costs. The usual. Except, on Friday morning when something decidedly out of the ordinary happened in the most unlikely of ways.
A confession.
Yuuta is friendly. Just because he prefers not to interact doesn’t mean he won’t. He isn’t motivated by some hatred for others. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Yuuta lacks confidence. He knows he struggles with connection and prefers to spare others the hassle of being subject to that. It’s one of the reasons he’s a chronic apologizer. He feels like he puts others out just by being around.
First thing Friday morning, a girl from the next class over approaches him. She’s short in stature with long blonde hair that sweeps over one side of her face and the other side pulled back with a clip. She seems reserved; Yuuta isn’t sure he’s seen here around until now. She shuffles on her feet, tucking her hair behind one ear and looking up at him sheepishly.
Yuuta agrees to meet her after school in the sitting space next to the campus botanical gardens. His hand shakes as he waves bye to her, a slight spring in her step as she returns to her group of onlooking friends. He also doesn’t miss the high pitched squeal as she disappears around the corner.
*
If Yuuta had to describe how the confession actually went, the word would be horrible.
She had been nervous, wringing her hands as she spat out the words, eyes trained on the ground before looking up at Yuuta for approval. He won’t forget the tears welling in her brown eyes when he had tripped over his rejection, trying and probably failing to let her down delicately.
In his defense, he has absolutely no experience with this kind of thing.
She had retreated to the comfort of her friends, yet again looking on from the distance and not at all subtle, leaving Yuuta standing alone in the midst of the grassy courtyard. He sighs, taking a seat on a stone bench next to a row of blooming flowers, eyeing the way their colorful petals sway in the light breeze.
Yuuta doesn’t flinch when a body joins him on the bench, a leg pressing against his and warming the skin through his uniform pants. His phone dings, and Yuuta doesn’t even need to look to know who his company is.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: damn
Yuuta watches the three dots flash across the screen until a second message appears.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: didn’t take you for a heartbreaker
Yuuta groans, exasperated, burying his face in his hands.
“I don’t know how to do this.” His voice is muffled against his palms, and his heart drops when he remembers the look of pain on the girl’s face. “Senpai, do you think she hates me?”
Wind whooshes over Yuuta’s ears, blowing his hair in every direction and lighting all of his senses. The coolness of it keeps him in the moment, alerts him to the trembling in his legs. He takes a couple deep breaths. In, out, in, out—just like his therapist taught him years ago.
His phone dings.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: yeah, probably
[ Inumaki-kun ]: i would too
“Ugggghhhhh,” Yuuta can feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, caught quickly by the his palms as the slip past his waterline. “Fuck, I never—”
Yuuta’s cut off by a familiar sound: a raspy chuckle, wispy and lighthearted. His eyes are wide when they meet his senpai’s, his full face on display. No mask to cover, hide behind, conceal the pieces of him Yuuta has been so curious about.
Simply put, Inumaki is beautiful. Yuuta’s eyes scan the harsh black lines of ink trailing from the corners of his lips and curving into matching circles on either side, a dot in each center. It’s clear now why he wears the mask—the school would never allow face tattoos on campus—but Yuuta is mesmerized by the sight of his senpai whole, unveiled and thriving, a glowing smile to accompany those crystalline eyes.
Yuuta is staring again. He knows and he can’t bring himself to stop. Inumaki doesn’t seem to mind, averting his gaze to that of the skyline, eyes squinting where the sun hits them.
“Thanks.” Yuuta starts, garnering Inumaki’s attention as he turns back to face him. “I needed the company.”
Inumaki nods, reaching to move a strand of hair from its place covering Yuuta’s eye. His hair is all over the place, actually, and the moment his eyes are unobstructed, another is taking it’s place. Yuuta’s heart soars when Inumaki laughs again, a hearty one that sounds strained, but joyful. He’s enjoying himself, and Yuuta barely notices how much before the tips of their noses are brushing.
Yuuta peers directly into the indigo eyes of his pretty senpai, the one he had just a week ago been too afraid to approach. But that laugh, that smile, those beautiful dark lines set against clear, pale skin—they’ve fueled him, filling his veins with a healing flame.
He doesn’t move away, holding his ground even as Inumaki tilts his head to the side and leans in, exhaling a ragged breath just centimeters away from Yuuta’s lips. The moment is tense as Inumaki pauses there, seemingly allowing Yuuta the time he needs to back out if he wishes. In truth, Yuuta’s brain is offline. Asking him to make a decision right now would be like preforming a Google search on an unplugged desktop. But what he does know is his senpai’s breath ghosting against his face is intoxicating, enough to cause Yuuta to submit and allow whatever is going to happen to just happen.
Yuuta’s first kiss is with his gorgeous senpai; the one he previously wasn’t sure if he could call ‘gorgeous’ but has recently amended that thought to absolutely he can. Because there’s no other word to describe Inumaki. Well, short of ethereal. Yuuta had come to see different sides of him in just the span of a week, ones that he can’t say he’s ever paid particular attention to in anyone else.
Inumaki is kind. He’s the type of person that stays late to help someone when it’s not his responsibility. He’s also thoughtful, tuning into the the intricacies of what makes others tick, and then fueling that flame. Yuuta really should get to reading that book. Inumaki is a vibrant soul, teasing and playful in ways that make those around him feel special—like they’re worth something.
Kissing Inumaki feels like skydiving and Yuuta’s heart races as he soars on a heavy wind, his stomach flipping and chest pounding as he hurdles towards whatever grand finale awaits him at the end. A ringing in his ears drowns out the racing of his heart as Inumaki’s pressure against his lips deepens, persistent but gentle just like the rest of him.
When they part, Inumaki wears a soft grin, his lips slick and glistening in the afternoon glow. Yuuta remains speechless, his lips parted in awe as his brain struggles to process all the feelings that just shot through him in the span of like 20 seconds.
Inumaki loops his mask around his ears and returns it to cover his face, ducking his head to tap on his phone once more.
[ Inumaki-kun ]: feel better, okkotsu-kun
[ Inumaki-kun ]: you did your best
Yuuta watches his senpai disappear in the distance, his own kiss-bitten lips cooling on the breeze.