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They’re seven and eight, standing on the porch of the Sakuma house, and Ritsu doesn’t want to go home.
“M’kay, I’m gonna go now,” Mao says, adjusting his backpack with his one free hand, his other being held tightly in Ritsu’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ritchan.”
He goes to leave, but Ritsu doesn’t let go of his hand. If anything, he tightens his hold, his fingers squeezing Mao’s smaller ones. Mao winces, and that makes Ritsu feel a little guilty—he never wants to hurt Mao, so he relaxes his grip. But only a little bit.
“I don’t wanna go home yet,” Ritsu says, eyes on the ground. “I wanna stay with you.”
“Ritchan,” Mao chides. “Mom said I can’t have a sleepover tonight.”
Ritsu shakes his head. Maybe another day he would’ve been more accepting of it, but today Rei isn’t coming back home until later, and his parents are never home anyway, and he doesn’t want to be in the house by himself. It’s lonely when he knows that every single room is empty.
“I want Maa-kun to stay with me forever and ever,” Ritsu mumbles, pouting. “Then we could have sleepovers every day, Maa-kun could walk to school with me every day, and he could hold my hand every day.”
“I already do some of those things!” Mao laughs, swinging their joined hands back and forth. “And sleepovers with you are so boring because you fall asleep right after we eat dinner!”
“Boring?” Oh. Does Mao think hanging out with Ritsu is boring?
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Mao scolds, flicking Ritsu’s forehead lightly. His fingers are wrapped up in multicolored band-aids, thanks in no small part to him playing games with the other kids at school and getting scratched up on the asphalt. “I… I like sleepovers with you,” he admits, cheeks flushing pink. He’s so cute. “I meant, like… boring because other people talk about manga and video games ’n’ stuff at sleepovers. All we do is sleep.”
“Sleeping next to you is so nice, though,” Ritsu says, eyelids heavy. He’s getting sleepy just talking about this. “You’re so warm.”
“And you need to go inside and go to sleep before you sleep here,” Mao remarks, and suddenly Ritsu remembers why they’re still standing out here.
“But I don’t want you to go,” Ritsu whines, letting go of Mao’s hand in favor of leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders. “You should stay with me all the time.”
“Ritchan,” Mao starts. It’s a warning, and it’s one that Ritsu finds himself reluctantly obeying. He releases Mao from his grip, patting his shoulder gently.
“Bye-bye, Maa-kun,” Ritsu mutters sadly. He’ll really miss Mao. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mao doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in that way that says he’s getting an idea. Ritsu’s about to ask what he’s thinking, but that’s when Mao shoots him a little smile and says, “Bye-bye. See you tomorrow, Ritchan.”
And that’s that. Mao heads home, and Ritsu alternates between sulking and sleeping in his room for the rest of the night.
The next morning, Ritsu sleepily opens the front door, revealing an oddly nervous Mao fidgeting with his hands, scuffed sneakers toeing at the pavement. “Maa-kun,” Ritsu says, smiling a bit. A good 70% of him still wants to go back to bed, but he can push himself to go to school if Mao’s there.
“Ritchan,” Mao greets in return. He still looks nervous. Huh. “I, um. I want to give you something.”
Ritsu blinks. “A gift?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Mao’s cheeks flush a pinkish red—almost the same shade as his hair if it was a little brighter. He reaches out and takes Ritsu’s left hand. “Sorry if this is stupid, I just thought that, um.”
He’s um-ing a lot, Ritsu thinks as Mao retrieves something out of the pocket of his shorts. Why is he so nervous?
Mao pauses, his fingers wrapped tightly over whatever he just got out of his pocket. He releases a shaky breath and opens his hand, revealing a… small circle of interwoven, crafting-type pipe cleaners.
“Pipe cleaners?” Ritsu asks.
Mao stiffens up, his face going full-fledged crimson. “I—uh—yeah, it’s, um—!” He stutters his way through several more incoherent words before he lets out a frustrated sigh and looks down, expression hidden as his shoulders slump in defeat. “…It’s a ring. I don’t have enough money to buy one, so… I thought I could make one.”
Ritsu tilts his head. “But why a ring?” Not that Ritsu doesn’t appreciate it, of course—anything from Mao is something he’ll treasure forever—but he’s not sure where this is all coming from.
“Y—yesterday you said you wanted to stay with me forever,” Mao mutters. Ritsu still can’t see his face from this angle. “And I wanna stay with you too. But we don’t live in the same house, and you’re not in the same grade as me so I can’t see you a lot. So, um, I thought I could… marry you.”
Oh. Oh. “Marry me?” Ritsu repeats, voice a little strangled.
“You don’t have to marry me back!” Mao exclaims, as if that makes any sense. “I just have to marry you! Mom told me that being married means you’re never alone even when you’re not in the same room, so… since I don’t see you a lot, I thought I could do this.”
Ritsu has never been more delighted in his life.
“You can marry me Maa-kun,” he says, and Mao’s face jerks up. Oh, there are little tears at the corners of Mao’s eyes, his cheeks colored with embarrassment. “You’re the only one I’d say yes to.”
Mao absolutely beams, excitedly sliding the pipe cleaner ring onto Ritsu’s ring finger. “I’m your husband now!” he declares, and Ritsu just wants to hug him so badly. So he does, pouncing onto Mao and wrapping his arms tight around him.
“Maa-kun is the best,” Ritsu giggles. “My adorable husband!”
Mao brings his arms up to return the embrace, burrowing his face into Ritsu’s shoulder. “Mm. Anything for Ritchan.”
Ritsu’s twelve, and while he’s known for hating many, many things (the sun, doing anything that isn’t sleeping, the sheer noisiness of his classmates), there are two that he absolutely loathes: middle school, and growing up.
It’s strange, not going to school with Mao anymore. While they still get up to walk together (read: Mao wakes Ritsu up and forcefully pushes him into the bathroom to get ready), they have to part ways at a cross street now thanks to their schools being in opposite directions. Without Mao coming along, he keeps passing out near the school gates or at his desk, and no one bothers trying to wake him. A sense of emptiness at his side follows him everywhere, whether he acknowledges it or not.
As for growing up, well. Ritsu stepped into the first throes of puberty over the summer and has gained a good two or three inches on Mao. It’s weird and unnatural—he liked when he and Mao were of equal height, able to look each other in the eye, puzzle pieces that fit just right. Now they’re slightly disjointed, still able to hold each other close but in an awkward grasp, scrambling to find where they fit alongside one another.
The height is something he can deal with, though. Mao will probably get his growth spurt soon, and that means they’ll even out and fit each other again. The worst part of growing up is that Ritsu outgrows his ring.
The fuzz of the pipe cleaners has long since worn away, leaving behind only jaggedly bent, intertwined wires. Even so, Ritsu refuses to throw it away, stubbornly wearing it on his ring finger and even switching to his pinky once it gets too small.
But one morning, after Mao yanks the blankets off of him, gives him his gakuran, and shoves him into the bathroom, Ritsu realizes the ring no longer fits. It doesn’t go past the middle knuckle of his pinky, no matter how hard he pushes.
A cold hollowness settles in his stomach. No, no, no, why why why why—
“Ritchan?” Mao calls from the other side of the bathroom door, startling said boy out of his panic. “Is everything okay in there? We’re gonna have to hurry to get to school on time.”
Ritsu knows he can just pocket the ring and head out with Mao. It’s not like it would be difficult, and the ring will stay with him just the same as it would if it was on his finger. But that doesn’t feel right, not after years of wearing it every single day in remembrance of the promise Mao made (and probably forgot, if Ritsu’s being honest, but he won’t think about that to save himself the hurt that would inevitably bubble up).
He frantically looks around the bathroom, trying to see if there’s something he can do when he spots an old necklace sitting haphazardly on the shelf behind him. A simple chain sporting a sapphire gemstone. A gift from one of his aunts, one that he’s never worn. An idea springs into Ritsu’s head.
“Ritchan,” Mao repeats, rapping his knuckles against the door.
“I’m fine, Maa-kun,” Ritsu says, picking up the necklace and unclasping it. He slides the sapphire charm off and sets it back on the shelf, replacing it with the ring. School dress code dictates no jewelry is allowed, so Ritsu makes sure to tuck the chain under his shirt when he loops it around his neck. “I’ll be out in a second.”
When they step out of the house, Ritsu already finds himself drifting off again, eyelids growing heavy. Mao, ever perceptive, lets out a sigh before he steps in front of Ritsu and kneels down. Ritsu settles on his back, slinging his arms around Mao’s shoulders and tiredly resting his head against Mao’s neck as the other hooks his hands under his thighs.
“Jeez, you need to learn how to walk yourself to school by yourself,” Mao complains. “At this rate, I’m gonna have wrestler-worthy muscles with how often I have to carry you!”
“I don’t think that’s bad,” Ritsu murmurs into Mao’s hoodie. “Then you can carry me all the time.”
“Of course, you’d say that,” Mao says, exasperated. Ritsu hums in response, shifting his arms more comfortably. Mao tenses up the slightest bit suddenly, steps slowing.
“Maa-kun?” Ritsu asks. Ugh, he’s so tired.
“… You’re not wearing your ring.” There’s an odd pitch in Mao’s voice.
“Mm… it was too small for me…” so I put it on a necklace instead, Ritsu tries to say, but he loses the energy mid-sentence and trails off, one step away from taking a nap.
“O-oh… haha, yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. You have grown a bit taller in the past few months, right? I swear I’ll catch up to you soon!”
Mao sounds soft and wobbly. Ritsu thinks that’s something he should be a little worried about, but he’s already so sleepy that he just finds himself passing out.
(They’re heading home, and Mao calls him Ritsu for the first time. Not Ritchan, but Ritsu. It hurts more than Ritsu thought it would.)
Funny enough, no one in Knights learns about their little marriage proposal until Ritsu and Mao are both second-year students.
A polite knock on the door interrupts the peaceful quiet that had settled while Knights were on their water break, taking a few moments to calm down (and in Ritsu’s case, sneak a power nap) before getting ready to practice again.
Izumi sighs and shouts, “Who is it?”
“Uh… student council. The president asked me to come and deliver some paperwork regarding your upcoming Live performances within the next couple of weeks.”
“Hmm, did he now?” Footsteps, getting quieter and quieter as they reach the door. A doorknob twisting open. The sound of papers shuffling around. “And he didn't even give us much for our budget… we’re gonna have to overwork ourselves again."
“Ah, please don’t shoot the messenger…”
Oh, Ritsu knows that voice. He blearily blinks his eyes open, staring confusedly at the ceiling above him. Arashi appears in the corner of his vision, smiling and waving at him.
“Ritsu-chan,” she says cheerily, “Mao-chan’s here. Aren’t you gonna go over and say hi?”
“Mm,” Ritsu hums, eyelids growing heavy. Every one of his limbs feels like jelly. “He can come over instead… I’m so tired from practice. I don’t think I can get up.”
“Aw, you poor thing,” Arashi coos, patting Ritsu’s shoulder consolingly.
“Ritsu-senpai,” Tsukasa chides from above, sounding every bit the nagging parent that he most definitely is not. Ritsu cranes his neck to look above his head, where Tsukasa stares him down with a Look of general irritation. “We still have another half an hour of practice still. How can you give up so easily?”
Ritsu musters up what little energy he has to reach up and pinch Tsukasa’s cheek gently, sticking his tongue out playfully when the junior frowns and bats his hand away. “I’m old, Suu-chan, I’ll never have the same energy you do ever again.”
“You’re only a couple years older than me!”
Another head pops up in his vision, just behind Tsukasa, this one with a mess of pink hair pinned back with a yellow clip. “Ritsu,” Mao scolds, hands planted on his hips, “stop causing trouble for your junior. You’re supposed to be setting an example, you know.”
“Hi, Maa-kun,” Ritsu says, smiling a little. “And why do I have to set an example? There’re so many other people Suu-chan could have as a role model—” He cuts himself off to yawn into his palm.
Mao sighs and crouches down, flicking Ritsu’s forehead lightly. “You’re in the same unit as him, you’re a role model by default.” He says it like it’s a lecture, but then he’s reaching down and combing his hand through Ritsu’s hair. His touch tender and soft. Ritsu’s Maa-kun can’t ever stay mad for long, no matter how much he tries.
“He’s right,” Arashi chimes in, startling Mao enough that the boy hurries to his feet and shifts away. Ritsu has never felt more betrayed. “Unfortunately for you, you have to try and be responsible at least sometimes for little Tsukasa-chan here.”
“Natchannnn—”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Izumi cuts in, pushing everyone to the side to snatch Ritsu’s arm and yank him into a sitting position. “C’mon, you don’t get to skip out on practice when we’ve got performances coming up!”
“Ughhhh,” Ritsu groans, falling slack in Izumi’s hold, and takes joy in the way the other stumbles over the sudden weight he’s now holding. Arashi bites back a laugh at Izumi’s visible struggle. “The entire world is against me… even my beloved Maa-kun betrayed me. This is so unfair.”
Mao pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, looking as stressed as any student council member usually does. “This is Knights’ practice session, Ritsu, all I’m doing is telling you to do your job.”
“That’s right, Kuma-kun,” Izumi hisses. “You're a knight! You have a duty to uphold!”
Ritsu feels awfully targeted today. This sucks.
“You’re all so mean,” Ritsu complains, leaning back as far as possible so that Izumi struggles to lift him off the floor. “And Maa-kun won’t even defend me… how could you be so cruel to your own husband, Maa-kun?”
“Your what,” Izumi says. He promptly drops Ritsu on the floor, which, ow. The impact rattles Ritsu’s skull a little.
“My what,” Mao echoes.
Everyone goes very quiet. Tsukasa’s eyes are as wide as teacup saucers as he looks between Ritsu and Mao. Arashi lifts a hand to cover her mouth.
Ritsu blinks. “Hm? What is it?”
A lot of things happen at once: Tsukasa starts sputtering out questions, though he’s so bewildered that he never gets a full one out before starting another one; Arashi smiles and claps her hands together, saying, “Congratulations, Ritsu-chan, Mao-chan!”; Mao, at the congratulations, flushes a bright pink that rivals his hair.
Ritsu processes these reactions only vaguely, because Izumi fists his hands in Ritsu’s jacket, yanks him up to eye level, and asks in that threatening-smiley voice of his, “Kuma-kun, when the fuck did you marry this kid? I knew you two were dating, but—”
“Ugh, you’re all so noisy,” Ritsu huffs, prying Izumi’s hands off his jacket. “Maa-kun’s my husband, and I’m Maa-kun’s husband too. Simple as that.”
“That doesn’t explain anything, what the hell—”
Ritsu does not want to deal with this. He’s too tired to try. He closes his eyes and presses his palms over his ears, effectively cutting off the rest of Izumi’s question. “I’m going to sleep, good night.”
Part of him is glad he used up all his energy arguing with the others earlier, because a few seconds after he says that, he conks out.
(Izumi continues shaking Ritsu’s shoulders and yelling directly in his face, perhaps a little too violently in Mao’s opinion. But the other boy remains dead to the world, sniffling a bit in his sleep. No, Mao does not think it’s cute.
When it becomes clear that Ritsu won’t be waking up any time soon, Izumi drops him and rubs his temples. “Ugh, why’s he always like this… he can’t just drop a bomb like marriage and then give us no explanation!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Izumi-chan!” Arashi reassures. “We can just ask him when he wakes up.”
“Or,” Tsukasa cuts in, squinting at Mao in a way that has the older one tensing up, “we could just ask the other… spouse. Isara-senpai, how exactly did you get… married to Ritsu-senpai?”
His question has the other members of Knights turning and looking at Mao with varying emotions. Tsukasa, poorly disguised curiosity; Arashi, excitement; Izumi, distress and mild disapproval. Mao feels the blood rush to his cheeks as his fingers fidget with the sleeve of his hoodie, struggling to find something grounding.
“Ah, um,” Mao stammers, “it’s not… a legal marriage, or anything, since we’re both underage still…” Jeez, how’s he supposed to explain this? That his boyfriend of a year and a half was really clingy when they were kids and they got “married” without fully understanding what it meant? It’s way too embarrassing.
“Oh!” Arashi realizes. “Is it just an engagement, then? You’re fiancés!”
Mao’s brain short-circuits. “Huh?” he squeaks.
“Hmm, that would more sense,” Tsukasa says, horrifically serious. “What with the laws regarding marriage... hm, yes, I understand.”
"Understand what, exactly?" Izumi pinches Tsukasa's ear, causing the younger to wince and smack him away.
Fiancé… Ritsu being his fiancé…
An image of Ritsu dressed up in a fine suit, cradling a wedding ring in his hands with the softest smile on his face flashes in Mao’s mind. Okay, nope, he’s not thinking anymore about this.
“I, um, I really have to gobacktothestudentcouncilokaybye!” Mao hurries out of the practice room. He grabs the doorframe and uses it to swing himself around the corner. Sprinting down the hall, he ignores Izumi’s loud, “Isara!” that follows.
He claps his hands against blazing red cheeks. “Get it together, Mao!” he mutters.)
The bell resounding through the classroom and chairs screeching against the floor stirs Ritsu from sleep. He blinks himself awake, glancing up at the clock through blurry eyes. Hmm, lunch break. He’ll just go back to sleep then.
A weight settles at the corner of his desk. “Ritsu,” Mao says. “We need to go and get something to eat.”
“Hghghfk,” Ritsu mumbles, burying his face in his arms. He reaches out blindly with one, and Mao takes the hint and catches his hand with his own. Warm, Mao’s always so warm.
“Come on, Ritsu, please stop being difficult for once,” Mao sighs. He sounds exasperated as usual, but something like stress underlies his tone, and okay, maybe Ritsu should be a little nicer. It can’t be easy balancing as much work as Mao does, especially since he’s next in line to be student council president.
“Whatever Maa-kun wants,” Ritsu says, lifting his head and yawning. Mao simply stares, shocked that Ritsu gave up so easily. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just—”
Whatever Mao was going to say, Ritsu doesn’t hear it. It’s drowned out by the sound of the classroom door sliding open with such force that it ricochets off the wall, startling the few students left in 2-B. Ritsu and Mao both look over at once, and Ritsu is mildly surprised by the sight of that Akehoshi boy from Trickstar standing in the doorway.
“Sally!” Subaru shouts at a volume that rivals Wataru's. “Is it true that you—”
He doesn’t get to finish his question, because the other boys from Trickstar come barreling into him from behind, and the three of them stumble and fall right there in the doorway.
Mao buries his face in his hands. “Sorry about them,” he says from behind his fingers. Ritsu smiles at him and gestures over at the other boys, and Mao takes that as a sign to go and talk to them.
“What’re you three here for? Shouldn’t you be back in 2-A?” he asks, offering a hand to help Subaru to his feet. “And why were you in such a rush? Did something happen?”
“How could you, Sally?” Subaru yells, throwing himself at Mao, who is looking more confused by the second. “When were you going to tell us you got married?”
The room goes deathly silent, except for Arashi’s quiet giggle. Ritsu just grins. So that’s what this is about. He leaves his desk to lay himself over Mao from behind, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s neck.
“Oh, I’m hurt, Maa-kun,” Ritsu says, feigning distress. “You didn’t even tell your own unit about our marriage? It’s no wonder they missed the ceremony.”
“We missed the ceremony?” Makoto sounds horrified. “Oh my god, Isara-kun, I’m so sorry—”
“Though it may sound insincere coming from us,” Hokuto starts, deadly serious, “since we missed the ceremony, we do want to congratulate you on your marriage.”
Ritsu can barely keep his laugh in. This is hilarious.
Mao looks like he’s going to have an aneurysm. “No, no, stop, there’s been a misunderstanding. There never was a ceremony, Ritsu and I aren’t even married to begin with. Where in the world did you get the idea that we were?”
The other members of Trickstar all collectively sag with relief, evidently glad they didn’t miss their youngest member’s wedding ceremony. Did they really all forget that not only are they still teenagers, but that Japan hasn’t changed its marriage laws yet?
“Boo,” Ritsu grumbles.
Makoto unlocks his phone. “Izumi-san sent me a text mentioning you,” he explains, showing his screen to Mao. Ritsu looks over Mao’s shoulder, reading Izumi’s stern, Yuu-kun, please get that Isara boy to get his… “husband” in check, that boy’s been skipping practice too much recently and he’s not answering any of our texts.
Whoops.
“Sally!” Subaru cries, grabbing Mao by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth so violently that Ritsu has to let go of his boyfriend. “I was so scared! You’re too young to be getting married!”
“I know, I know,” Mao laughs. “It’s okay, Subaru, there’s not gonna be an official wedding or anything anytime soon anyway.”
Hokuto squints at him. “Wait. What do you mean an ‘official’ one? Are you saying you’ve already had an… ‘unofficial’ one, I suppose, before?”
Ritsu puts on his charming Knights smile and tugs Mao away from Subaru. “Indeed we have,” he says, cuddling up to Mao’s side. “It was a wonderfully sunny day, and Maa-kun looked absolutely adorable—”
“WHAT—”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough! I’ll see you guys at practice later! Bye!” Mao clamps his hands over Subaru’s mouth and herds him, along with Hokuto and Makoto, out the door before slamming it shut. He slides down to the floor against it and sighs loudly. “For the love of god,” he groans.
Ritsu breaks down into giggles.
“—If you don’t know why, then fine! It doesn’t matter anymore, I don’t care about Maa-kun anymore! I hate you! And that hairstyle doesn’t suit you at all!”
“Hold on, hold on, my hairstyle’s kind of unimportant, isn’t it? Hey—”
Ritsu doesn’t stick around to listen to what Mao has to say, stomping off with something like fury burning violently in the seat of his chest. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his nails digging crescents into his palms.
He doesn’t know why he expected anything different. Mao’s always been a busybody, always seeking to be a pillar of support, so willing to help others that he has no idea how to prioritize despite what he says. The student council, Trickstar, basketball club… Mao pushes himself to be part of so many things, determined to work and work and work until he burns himself out, ignoring and forgetting everything that’s important—everything that should be important.
The ring burns like a brand against his chest.
Ritsu slows down, his steps coming to a stop. He doesn’t run like this—or not often, anyway—and now his blood is pumping, his heart singing with adrenaline in a way it almost rarely does. It’s strange, it’s unfamiliar, and Ritsu doesn’t like it.
He tugs the necklace chain out from under his shirt, pinching the little wire ring between his fingers and watching it bend beneath the force. A tiny part of him screams at him, telling him, Stop, stop, Maa-kun gave that to you, you can’t just break it, but the rest of him is angry, festering with hurt and frustration.
I’m your husband now, Mao said once, when he was seven and his hair wasn’t so long that he clipped it back and he wasn’t afraid of sharp objects like he is now and he wasn’t anybody special, just Ritsu’s beloved Maa-kun and that was all.
“He probably doesn’t even remember,” Ritsu spits out, watching the dull wire glint in the sunlight. Such a stupid promise, made when they were too young to know what a promise means.
Ritsu’s hand wraps tight around the ring, holding it close like he has all this time, before shifting to face the street. He brings his arm back and, with as much strength as he can muster, chucks the damn ring and chain across the road. The chain snaps off his neck from the sheer force. He doesn’t bother to check where it lands, turning and heading to school despite the way is heart is crying and sobbing to go find it, why would you do that, how could you—
“I hope it gets run over,” he mutters, and it sounds more defeated than anything else.
✧
They’re shuffling down the sidewalk under flickering street lamps and the star-speckled night sky, Anzu weighing down his back, when Ritsu remembers.
“The ring,” he breathes, and dread overtakes him, sharp needles pressing against his insides.
Mao breaks off from what he was saying before, turning to eye Ritsu curiously. “Ring?” he repeats. “Hey, Ritsu, what’s wrong?”
“The ring,” Ritsu repeats. The ring, the ring, the ring—
He crouches down and sets both his schoolbag and Anzu against the wall, carefully adjusting her lolling head so she doesn’t fall onto the concrete. It’s strange, how energy seems to rush through him in spades today, a high buzz that makes him want to move, move, move.
“What’s going on?” Mao crouches down next to him, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay? If you really need me to carry Anzu, I can.”
Ritsu shakes his head. “As much as I appreciate that, Maa-kun, there’s—I need to take care of something else.” He takes Mao’s hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing his fingers reverently and relishing in the resulting blush flaring up on Mao’s face. The contact helps calm him a bit.
“Ah, okay,” Mao mutters, twisting his fingers so that his and Ritsu’s hands are interlocked. “But what exactly are you planning on doing? It’s really late, so it’s not like there’re shops or anything open…”
“No, nothing like that,” Ritsu says, laughing some to ease his nerves. He prays Mao can’t see the nervousness settling into his bones. “Just need to look for something.”
“Well, if you say so… do you want me to help you?”
“It’s alright, Maa-kun, I can look by myself. Take a seat and let someone else do the work for once, hmm?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll stay with Anzu, then.”
Ritsu smiles and untangles their fingers. “I won’t be long,” he says, and gets to his feet to search for the ring.
For a little while, Ritsu worries that he may have well and truly lost it. After all, he’d tossed it into a road where cars and bicycles are bound to pass through, not expecting to go looking for it again. But somehow, against all odds, he spots it near the sidewalk, a few inches away from slipping into the sewage system below the street.
Knots decorate the mangled chain, and the ring itself has been distorted into some sort of pointy croissant; likely the result of getting run over however many fucking times today. But it’s still one of Ritsu’s treasures, and he’ll hold onto it for as long as he’s able.
Relief settles into Ritsu’s frame as he sits back against the curb, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
“Ritsu?”
The said boy glances over his shoulder, seeing Mao lower himself and sit down on the curb next to him. Mao reaches over and wraps an arm around Ritsu’s back, and the older leans into the touch. The exhaustion of the day rams into him all at once, and he wants nothing more than to curl against Mao on this uncomfortable sidewalk and sleep.
“I found it,” he breathes. “Ah, I didn’t think I would.”
“What did you find?” Mao shifts closer so they’re side-by-side, thighs pressed against each other. His free hand comes up to pry apart Ritsu’s, revealing the damaged necklace and ring he’d been clutching so tightly. Mao’s breath hitches. “Oh, this is…”
“Did you forget about this, too, Maa-kun?” Ritsu asks, and though the words don’t carry the same bite Ritsu had this morning, he still feels something in him hollow out. “Was it a simple, stupid childhood promise that you left behind?”
“Wha—no, of course not! I…” Mao’s voice cracks. Ritsu tilts his head so that he can see Mao’s face. His jade green eyes sparkle with wonder, or tears, maybe. “I thought you’d—thrown it away. You stopped wearing it one day and never told me what happened to it. I thought you’d left that promise behind, if anything. And that all those jokes about us being married were—just that. Jokes, haha.”
“Oh, Maa-kun,” Ritsu says. He turns his body towards Mao, lifting himself off the curb so he can tackle the startled boy to the ground, pillowing Mao’s head with his palm so he doesn’t hit the solid cement too harshly. It scratches up Ritsu’s knuckles, but well, that doesn’t matter, not at this moment.
“Ritsu—!” Mao shoves at his shoulders, but Ritsu won’t budge. “C’mon, get off me!”
Ritsu ignores him, taking a moment to pocket the poor necklace into his uniform jacket and brush loose bangs out of Mao’s eyes. “I never threw it away,” he says, and Mao stops fidgeting, staring up at him with wide eyes. “I never would’ve gotten rid of something so precious.”
Blood rushes to Mao’s cheeks and warms his ears. “I—oh,” Mao chokes out, and Ritsu really, really wants to kiss him. He gives in to that thought, leaning down and pressing his lips to Mao’s in a quick, chaste kiss. Mao’s hands come up to hug him closer, one hand curling in the side of his jacket and the other tucking itself under his collar. They burn up against Ritsu’s chilly form, warm and so, so loving.
“And,” Ritsu says when he pulls away, “I couldn’t possibly get rid of my wedding ring. It’s priceless.”
“Wha—we’re not married yet, don’t say that!” Mao snaps, batting Ritsu away. Yet, he said. Yet. “A-and, well… it’s not like I have a ring either, so…”
Ritsu blinks. “You don’t have one,” he says, and his own voice sounds far away.
“No, I don’t,” Mao confirms. Oh. Oh, Mao doesn’t have a matching ring. This is terrible, this is horrific, this is a tragedy in and of itself—
“Ugh, whatever! We can talk about this later, okay? We need to get home!” Mao rolls a petrified Ritsu off of him and stands up, dusting off the back of his jacket. “Clearly you still have enough energy to carry Anzu, so let’s get going. It’s not safe to be out for much longer, y’know.”
Ritsu shakes off the revelation that just came to him (Mao doesn’t have a ring he doesn’t have a ring he’s not really married to me is he—) and nods along with whatever Mao’s saying, complaining as usual when he has to go and pick up Anzu again.
Ideas start churning in his head, but he sets them aside for the moment. For now, he has a producer to carry and whine about carrying, the long road home ahead, and Mao at his side, intertwining their fingers.
For now, this is enough.
✧
(“Natchan,” Ritsu whines, tugging on her arm. “I need your help.”
Arashi pauses her task of zipping up her duffel bag, eyeing Ritsu curiously. “Hmm? What is it?”
“Naru-kun!” Izumi calls, catching both of the second-years’ attention. He chucks a set of keys at her. “We’re heading out, so make sure you close up for us!”
“Will do!” Arashi salutes. Izumi rolls his eyes and follows after Tsukasa. She turns her attention back to Ritsu. “Now, what were you saying?”
Ritsu flops back on the floor. “I don’t know what to do… Maa-kun and I are married, but he doesn’t even have a ring that matches mine… my own husband doesn’t even have a wedding ring. How sad is that?”
“Well, you don’t necessarily have to have a wedding ring to be married,” Arashi supplies, “but, well, if he gave you a ring and you never gave one back in return, then that would be quite the tragedy. It might mean he’s not sure you reciprocate his feelings.”
“…” That is a scenario Ritsu very much does not want to consider. “I’ll get him a ring. I’ll get him the best one I can.”
“Ah, are you sure? Wedding rings can be very expensive, you know.” To prove her point, Arashi searches up some examples on an online shopping site on her phone. They go into hundreds of thousands of yen, and sure, the Sakuma family may be pretty well off, but Ritsu is not particularly willing to make such expensive purchases.
Ritsu throws an arm over his eyes, blocking out the bright ceiling lights and Arashi’s concerned gaze. “This is way too complicated… ah, what should I do…”
“I can’t tell you what to do, since Mao-chan’s your husband, not mine,” Arashi answers. “But I would suggest responding with the same severity Mao-chan did for you. Relationships only work if you see each other as equals, after all. And, well, don’t rush it. Wait for the right moment. It’s terribly cliché, but it’s cliché for a reason, you know.”
“Mm-hm… Natchan always has the best advice, after all.”
He can’t see it, but he knows Arashi’s smiling. “Of course I do! I’m the responsible older sister! You can always come to me if you have problems with anything!”
“Yes, yes. Thanks.”
“Of course, of course! It was no trouble—hey, now, you can’t go falling asleep yet! I still have to lock up the practice room! Ritsu-chan!”)
Time works in strange ways. For a long time, Ritsu thought his high school days would never end, but here he is, stepping into his second-year classroom for the last time, and being a third-year has never felt more real. Every day is another step towards leaving Yumenosaki behind, and it leaves him in equal mixes of relief and regret.
Mao’s in the classroom, too, peering through the windows and down at the crowds of students congratulating this year’s graduates. Bathed in the orange-gold-pink of the sunset, he looks like a figure fresh out of an acrylic painting.
“We’re gonna be getting new ties soon,” Ritsu muses.
Mao doesn’t look surprised by Ritsu’s presence. He smiles and lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I’m gonna miss the blue. It matches our uniforms better,” he says, fiddling with the tie sitting loosely on his chest.
“Navy blue doesn’t fit cyan all that well, you know,” Ritsu comments, and warms when Mao chuckles again. The sound washes over him in the quiet, and he idly wishes they could stay like this forever.
“Ah, I’m gonna miss this,” Mao admits. “Being a student, I mean. We’re so close to being adults. It’s exciting and scary at the same time, haha.”
Ritsu takes Mao’s hand in his, feeling along the calluses that have taken up residence there since Mao’s started playing guitar more frequently. “We still have time, you know. We’re going into our third year, not graduating. You don’t have to talk like the world’s ending.”
“I know, I know, just…” Mao purses his lips, nose wrinkling up cutely as he tries to find the words. “We’re moving into Ensemble Square soon, and our class assignments are different. Trickstar’s going to struggle a lot, especially since Anzu won’t be helping us all the time like she used to. And… I’m not gonna get to see you as much anymore.”
Ritsu’s heart seizes in his ribcage. He loves him. He loves him so much.
“Maa-kun,” he starts, garnering the other’s attention, “you married me when we were little, and you told me it was because we’ll never be apart from each other even if we aren’t physically together.”
Mao groans, letting his head fall against Ritsu’s chest with a light thump. “This again? You’re never gonna stop talking about it, are you?” he complains into Ritsu’s shirt.
“No, I won’t,” Ritsu says, biting back a laugh. “But really, listen to me, m’kay? You married me, but I never got to marry you back. I guess you thought you were fine on your own, but you really aren’t, are you?”
Mao jerks up, eyes flashing with realization. “Wait, Ritsu, are you really…?”
“Mm-hm,” Ritsu hums, fishing a jagged ring made from bent paper clips out of his pocket. “It’s true that maybe we’re too young to really get married, but… I do want to stay with you, Maa-kun, for as long as you’ll let me. Maybe in a few years, we can exchange these for real rings, but—”
He’s cut off by Mao pulling him into a fierce kiss, firm and insistent, tenderly cradling Ritsu’s face with both hands like he’s a glass figurine that could fracture at any moment. Ritsu drops the paper clip ring, only vaguely processing the little clink it makes when it hits the floor as he presses back, arms coming up to encircle Mao’s shoulders.
“Yes,” Mao says when he pulls away to breathe, “yes, yes, I want that too, Ritchan. Me too.” And then he’s leaning in again, smiling against Ritsu’s lips. Ritsu can’t even be mad that Mao didn’t let him finish his speech; he said yes, and that’s all that matters.
“I love you,” Ritsu whispers, soft and reverent.
“Me too.” Mao kisses the corner of Ritsu’s mouth. “I love you too. So much.”
They’re seventeen and eighteen, standing in classroom 2-B for the last time with the sunset at their backs, and the world falls into place, one I love you at a time.