Archive of Our Own

Today, Yuuichirou is a rabbit.

He smashes his fists against his black hair, points his index and middle fingers upward, and curls and uncurls them with puckered lips. His scrunched eyes shows he’s deeply involved in this.

Too involved, if you ask Mikaela, who stares passively at the display his language partner is giving. Too ridiculous and sort of cute, he privately admits, but he restrains any betrayal of his fondness when reminded that they are both making a fool of themselves out in public.

He smoothly answers in Japanese.“...Rabbit? Is it a rabbit?”

“Oohーwoah! Damn!”

The laugh is too boisterous that it snatches the attention of some college students passing by. Either catching his outburst, or remembering that 'damn' isn’t exactly the friendliest word to shout out in public, Yuu slaps a hand over his mouth, but his eyes are still crinkled as laughter bubbles from behind his cupped hand.

“Nice! Now you!” Yuuichirou demands in English with a giddy giggle, and it’s at this moment Mikaela thinks for the umpteenth time how frighteningly invested Yuuichirou is in this silly game. He’s squirming and kicking his feet out from the park bench they’re sitting on like a 5-year-old, leaning forward with wide, greedy eyes.

Mikaela sighs painfully. He pinches the bridge of his nose. From there the fingers slide in a reluctant pathway to extend from his nose, mimicking an elephant’s trunk. He waves his hand weakly in a flapping motion. He tries to be as conspicuous as possible. People are walking by and staring, damn it.

He’d stare too if a grown, twenty year old man started mimicking an elephant in front of another student.

Heat burns his ear tips. Wretchedly Mikaela glances over to Yuu with a look of pure torment, silently pleading for his partner to hurry the hell up.

Yuu doesn’t get the message. Taking all the time in the world, his face pinches in deep thought.

“Bear?” Finally, an attempt comes in English.

“No.”

“Dog.”

“Close,” Mikaela lies.

“Rabbit!”

“...No.”

“Fish? Turtle?”

“No, notー”

“Bird! Snake! Fish!”

Mikaela’s lips tighten.

“Rabbit!”

Mikaela drops his hand and looks at Yuuichirou critically. He’s laughing, and then shrugs his shoulders with a shake of his head, a familiar gesture Mikaela’s seen when Yuuichirou doesn’t know the English equivalent of what he’s searching for.

But the grin on his face tells Mikaela that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s only been about a month since the international student and he started meeting up together like this, but already their meetings on the small park bench had become a weekly Friday ritual that Mikaela rather looked forward to at the end of the week.

It was only supposed to be a make-up assignment for Mikaela missing his class's guest day. Not like he was struggling in the course, anyway. Japanese was a walk in the park amidst his software engineering course load. But Yuuichirou’s last partner had to bail on his weekly meeting commitment, and Mikaela could always use the extra credit if he signed up as Yuuichirou’s official language partner.

Besides that, how could he deny Yuuichirou’s offer, introduced to him only after their first meeting? The guy seemed very concerned and desperate, and Mikaela wasn’t heartless.

(The exact opposite, in fact. The few friends he did have called him a chronic “Yes Man Mika” and were just as surprised to give him the title, if going by his generally straight-laced manner. That doesn’t change the fact that he cringes at the title. If there’s any surer way to annoy the hell out of Mikaela, it’s to bastardize his name to ‘Mika.’)

“This is great.” Mikaela compliments as his blue eyes scan the composition book in his hand. The pair hunch over Yuu’s journal. Beside him, Yuu hovers anxiously for the full diagnosis. Mikaela has nothing but more praise to give as he takes off his reading glasses. “Really. Your English is getting better. Good job. Just watch your tense.”

Mikaela taps the problem area that’s circled in red pen. Only one mistake, a very reasonable one. He knows adults who still slip between past and present tense in their writing.

More importantly, Yuuichirou’s handwriting is marvelous. Perfect, even. Leagues better than his chicken scratch.

“Woah, better?” An excited noise of pleasure sounds from Yuuichirou, before declaring, “Good! I’m happy. My next journal, I will write...” He gestures at Mikaela. Before Mikaela can resist Yuuichirou decision by claiming there’s nothing exciting about him, he looks at Mikaela with a wide grin, about ready to fly to the moon. Meanwhile, Mika’s about ready to melt right in his seat.

Yuuichirou’s very cute.

“Um.” The man points to Mikaela, to himself, then back at Mikaela. “Your phone number...?”

“You want my number?”

“I want your number,” Yuu confirms with an eager nod and smile.

Scratch that. Mikaela does, veritably, right then and there melt.

“Oh, uh.” A second passes. The student nods readily. “Yeah, sure. Let me just...” His gut is hot and launches up to his throatーbut he’s cognizant enough to slip his trembling hand into his pocket and fetch his android. Don’t puke, oh God. Not in front of him. Not in front of him.

Yuuichirou’s too distracted fetching his own phone to catch Mikaela’s flusteringーthank Godーand notifies Mikaela they should text if they want to talk. International phone plans are a bitch. Yuuichirou’s words exactly.

Mikaela takes a terrible moment to recognize that his partner is becoming quite partial to cursing in English, and doesn’t know whether to be apathetic or devastated by the other's choice of televised entertainment that is unmistakably seeping into their daily translation practice.

He decides to quit mothering and just give his damn number.

Yuuichirou stretches over his name as he inputs the contact. “Mi...kae-”

“M-i-k-a.”

Yuuichirou’s eyes turn perplexed when the rest of the letters never come, peering up from his phone screen.

“Mika. Just Mika.” For the life of him, he can’t understand why he feels his face heating up.

“Oh! I understand.” Yuu’s fingers swipe along his phone screen, then points to himself. “Just Yuu.”

“Yuu.” Mikaela likes how the name flows from his lips. He tests it several more times under his breath. “Text me anytime with anything,” he offers shamelessly, too gladly. “I get it. English can be difficult to understand sometimes. A lot of times. Especially like...” The student considers an example, searching his mind for the many filed away in memory.

Yuu beats him to it. “‘Do you mind’?” He scrunches his nose. Mikaela joins his disdain with a dreadful chuckle, recalling to how smoothly that conversation went.

“Yeah.” How Mika fumbled to explain what Yuuichirou’s appropriate response is to the question, “Do you mind?” A simple phrase that seems to come naturally to him and everyone else, but when he actually paused to think on it, realized how absurd it is. Yuuichirou, astutely, struggled to understand how a “No” would translate into a positive affirmation.

(“So… ‘Yes, I don’t mind?’”
“Yes. Uh, no. No, that’s isn’t really…”)

“And savory?”

(“Savory. So like... delicious. Good-tasting.”
“Ice cream is savory?”
“No. Yes. ...Is it?”)

Yuuichirou mentally digs for another, then snaps his fingers. “Oh, and caramelized onions!”

(“You like grilled onions?”
“Mm. But… not grilled onions.”
“Not grilled...”)

Yuuichirou is particularly proud of this, and Mikaela is, too. It took them exactly two days to come up with the word Yuuichirou was looking for, and when the word finally dawned on Mikaela, both of them sprang up and celebrated like they had won the lottery.

Yuu and Mika both smile fondly at the memory.

Mika shifts, his knee lightly bumping Yuu’s. “The next time you want to order a burger around here, you’ll know what to say.”

“We can go together,” Yuu suggests buoyantly. “Next time.”

“Next time.” Mikaela repeats. Lingers on the word. Considers whether or not to press exactly what day ‘Next time’ is. “Sure,” he settles. “I know a place.” Mikaela pockets his phone, and Yuu follows. “By the way, I’m sorry if these meetings aren’t helping all that much. Do they help? We can meet less often if you’re too busy. Sorry,” Mikaela adds sheepishly. He doesn’t know what comes over him to suddenly feel so inadequate. He’s usually pretty confident. Friends would say too confident. Enemies, arrogant.

“No! No.” Yuu’s hand finds Mikae’s knee and he squeezes, effectively shutting up the blond’s rambling with an audible click from his jaw. (Rambling. Since when does the Mikaela Shindou ramble?) “You are great. Great help,” Yuu insists with earnest green eyes. “Thank you, Mika.”

Mikaela stares at the hand, blinks to meet Yuu’s pressing eyes, then stares back at the hand. “Good. Great,” he struggles to say, finally. It feels like he’s talking through cotton balls in his mouth. “But if you’re still having trouble, you know. Text. Or, just, if you want to talk. Or something.” stupidstupidsostupidー

”I will,” comes his partner’s reply, and Mika is reassured by the sincerity in the response.

He fumbles a bit, before asking in Japanese if there’s anything more Yuu needs help with. Yuu waves his hands animatedly, shaking his head. “So. Yuu,” Mikaela can’t help but take an opportunity to sound the name off his lips again. “Next Friday? Here?” He finishes after a pause, “With me?”

“Definitely here. With you. Next Friday. See you around.”

Mikaela’s heart warms. He waves Yuu off, but, embarrassed, remembers they only live a block from each other, off campus. He ends up following him halfway back. Much to his excitement, their conversation stretches about another ten minutes.

He’s excited by their close proximity, and wonders if this means they will be able to meet in other settings aside from the small park on campus.

He’s not sure if he can handle waiting an entire week before he can see Yuuichirou Amane’s grin. That’s torturous.

Mikaela’s a lion today.

He curls his fingers and curls his lips. He even gives a hollow “rawr” that Yuu is sure to get a kick out of regardless of the lifelessness.

He does.

It’s scary how comfortable Mikaela’s become with this. A group of students pass by, but Mika doesn’t give a damn, because Yuuichirou’s chime of laughter melts the entire world away at will. Bends it to his whims. (Mikaela’s usually not this gushy. He shudders at what’s he’s become. All because of Yuu.)

It’s scary how frighteningly selfish he’s become of Yuu, too. At night he wonders if it’s only with him that Yuuichirou laughs with the most. During class his unshakable attentiveness bends because he wonders if Yuuichirou plays that silly game of “name that animal that’s making you look like a complete ass” with anyone else. After all, that was their game. (Mikaela shudders a second time. All because of Yuu.)

“Mika?”

He’s pulled from his thoughts and perks to attention. Only two weeks into nickname-basis, and he’s pretty sure ‘Mika’ is his favorite word at the moment.

As Yuu mumbles something in his mother tongue, Mikaela’s attention fixates on his partner’s fingers, which are distractedly twirling fly-away strands of hair in-between his thumb and pointer. Yuu’s nervous. “Do you know a place?” The other man motions with a fisted hand, rolling his wrist near his lips. “Nice place to eat?”

Mikaela drops his clawed fingers and looks at the international student. His heart flutters to vigorous life in his chest, fighting to burst out from his ribs. “Lots. Lots of nice restaurants.” Words claw from his throat at length in a croak. He swallows thickly.

“I want to go to a nice restaurant,” Yuu tries earnestly and deliberately.

“With someone?”

“Mm.” Yuu’s grin finishes the statement, and Mika dares to grin back. Something is shared between the two right then. Words didn’t need to be said. They’re smiling and the world is a soft picture.

“Oh. Wellー”

“She’s in my English class, too! She is very, ah, cute.”

“...Oh.” Mikaela replies a beat later, dumbly. “Okay.”

He says 'Okay,' because everything’s just that or everything will eventually be just that: Okay.

Maybe he was too stupid and close-minded to see that of course someone would ask Yuuichirou out. But that’s okay.

He isn’t prepared for this. But that’s okay.

Give it several days, he’ll eventually adjust.

And if he isn’t prepared for the next several days? That’s still okay, damn it.

Give it several years, he’ll eventually adjust.

It’s two weeks until the end of the semester, and Mika’s beginning to miss that silly little game of theirs.

Their meetings on the bench have recently evolve into Yuu asking questions Mikaela in his native tongue: “I want to say she’s pretty, but say something better.” “What’s another word for amazing? Beautiful? Kind?”

Mikaela obliges to all of Yuu’s enthusiastic requests regardless, translating whatever innocent phrases pour from his lips, because he’d do anything for Yuuichirou.

And he ignores the squeeze and crush of his heart everytime.

It’s the final Wednesday of the semester. Mikaela’s studying in the library that his phone vibrates. It’s a photo message from Yuu.

He stares blankly at the photo of Yuuichirou with her. She’s got a pretty face, eyes twinkling with mischief. Nice, full purple hair. A peace sign pokes at both their cheeks. They’re smiling like a couple of dorks.

Mikaela isn’t sure how to react, and his thumb hovers over his phone briefly. Then, it moves robotically.

He blinks at the vertical bar that blinks right back at him. For decoration purposes, he adds an emoticon after his message, presses send, then shoves the damn thing away, burying the phone underneath his mess of clutter.