Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gaku runs his hand down his face and groans, crumpling his resume in his fist. Another failed interview—but he’s used to that by now. He’s coming to accept that he’ll never enter the business world and that he’ll be stuck as a part-timer at his mother’s soba shop for the rest of his life.

That’s just his luck though. He’s accepted a lot of things: he’ll never get a girlfriend, he’ll never own a fancy car, and now, he’ll never get a cushy nine-to-five job as a salaryman and finally leave Hamamoto behind.

So for now, it’s back to Yamamura Soba for him.

He’s looking at SNS because the cold, unfeeling void of Twitter is the only thing that can numb his frustration after a shitty interview. So he’s not exactly watching where he’s going when he rounds the corner and collides with another person.

They’re sent tumbling to the hard concrete, Gaku’s briefcase flying in a clean arc through the air before it opens and releases all of his paperwork like some kind of white dove release: businessman edition. It’s through the fluttering papers that he finally catches a glimpse of the guy who’s been unfortunate enough to cross paths with him.

A head of orange hair, big eyes, and a cute face stare back at him as they fall, seemingly in slow motion, toward the ground. Gaku puts his hands out to catch him and squeezes his eyes shut on instinct, but his arms must have buckled because his head hits against the sidewalk anyway and the impact mercilessly knocks the wind out of him.

He adds “potential concussion” to his list of terrible things that have happened today.

With a loud groan to display his excruciating pain because frankly he’s tired of playing polite today, he goes to push himself up, only to find an uncomfortable weight on his chest.

He blinks open his eyes to find it’s a guy. Not the same guy he saw earlier, either. Just a guy with some wild, messy silver hair and a nice, trim blazer, and a bright red tie and…

Wait.

Hang on just a second.

He has silver hair. And he was wearing a blazer and tie today. There’s a niggling in his mind, the barest hint of an explanation that goads him to explore the possibility further. He takes a breath in, lets it out.

Haha, nope. That’s impossible. Why would his brain even dare tease nonsensical thoughts like those. It’s totally illogical, utterly insane, to think that the person currently laying on his chest could be—

The man grunts and slams his palms into the ground, pushing himself up until his face lifts and they lock eyes and Gaku sees himself.

His doppelganger blinks once, twice, three times, and a fourth just for good measure before his eyes seem to focus and his eyebrows furrow, a deep frown forming on his face.

“What the fu—!” The lookalike’s shout is cut off when Gaku covers his mouth, looking around frantically to make sure no one overhears them.

“Shut up!” Gaku whispers, hearing a distinct difference in his voice but not allowing himself to focus on that right now.

The guy rips Gaku’s hand from his mouth and leans closer, his familiar blue eyes wide and terrified as he stares at him. “You’re me!”

Sorry, what.

Gaku finally looks down at himself and honestly, he should have thought to do that sooner but he was much too preoccupied with a man that looks just like him to really think this whole thing through. So he’s shocked, to say the least, when he sees a bright orange hoodie and jeans on his body. Shaggy orange hair falls in his eyes and he thinks that today really is the worst in his life.

And that’s even including the time when that pissy elderly customer turned over her soba onto his head.

But that’s just service work, after all. This is something entirely different.

“Why do you look like me!” the Gaku Copy yells more than asks, reaching out and pressing large hands into his face. He pokes and prods Gaku, squishing his cheeks and pulling at his skin until Gaku feels thoroughly and properly violated.

“Knock it off,” he says, slapping the hands away. “What just happened?”

He'd like to say he kept the panic out of his voice, but that would be a filthy lie and Gaku has never been a good liar.

“Answer my question!” the other demands, then seems to realize his own position and frantically looks down at himself, taking in his appearance with hands roaming in places Gaku would rather no one ever touch. “What the fuck!”

Gaku grabs those curious hands by the wrists and hisses, “Stop freaking out!” Not like he has any high ground here, since he's personally freaking out more than he ever has in his life, but still.

The guy jerks out of his grip and makes to stand up, not even offering a hand to Gaku to help him up. But he follows after anyway, because the longer they lay on the concrete in this more than slightly suggestive position, the more eyes they draw and the more weird stares they get.

“C–come on.” He grabs onto the sleeve of the hoodie Gaku is wearing and tugs him along back down the sidewalk in the direction he'd come from.

This guy, he’s learned, is short. Like, really short. He didn’t think humans this size existed. It’s more than a little disorienting, and yet when he looks up at the skyscraper that is his own body, the other guy—whose name he still doesn’t know—appears totally unaware of this massive height difference between them.

If anything, there’s a spring in the guy’s step.

“You’re enjoying this,” Gaku observes, cringing at the voice that comes out of his throat.

The guy whips around but doesn’t slow down in his path, walking backwards without so much as paying attention to where he’s going. “What? I’m not!”

“You are,” Gaku argues, lifting an eyebrow. Even that movement feels weird in this body. He feels too constricted. He wants to claw his way out of the skin, rip off these confines and just go back to normal, but it seems that’s not what the gods have planned for him today. He stays firmly put inside this stranger’s body.

The guy fidgets, and his hesitant and nervous glance off to the side looks strange on Gaku’s face. “Well, I just thought it was kinda neat, you know? Being tall.”

Figures.

“Just keep walking.”

The stranger huffs and turns back around, pulling harder on Gaku’s sleeve until they round a corner and they come face to face with Fonte Chocolat, the small mom and pop bakery on the outskirts of Hanamoto that Gaku visits whenever he needs to treat himself. It’s been pretty famous in town ever since the family moved from Tokyo and opened up shop here, and for good reason. Their pastries are to die for.

“In here,” he commands, tugging open the wide French doors and pulling them both inside.

The inside is warm and welcoming, decorated in large paintings of various pastries and cakes to match the aromas of freshly baked goods that swirl around them. A handful of small tables dot the main floor, and a long, glass case of premade goods juts out into the middle of the room, a cash register at one end.

There are a few people lined up at the register, and Gaku is quick to avoid the curious looks they receive when they enter the shop, turning his head away and chasing after the stranger.

“Why did you bring me here?” he hisses as the guy stomps his way toward the back of the shop. Sure, he’s in a bad mood and could definitely use something sweet to calm his nerves, but he still thinks there should be a proper order to these things, like figuring out what the hell is going on before sharing a crêpe with a stranger who looks exactly like him.

“I live here,” he responds without looking back. “This is my parents’ bakery.”

Huh. Okay. That makes sense then, why he would walk through with such confidence. And in a way, it makes Gaku relax, since this person, too, understands the horrors of working in the food industry. Solidarity.

Gaku stops in his tracks when he finally realizes what the other person is implying. “Are you taking me to meet your family?” he asks, his voice much squeakier than he would have liked. He pretends it’s because he’s in some stranger’s body.

“No!” he says quickly, pulling again on Gaku’s sleeve. “Well, not technically. I guess Iori’s family. But not my parents! Definitely not my parents.”

“Iori is…?”

“My brother.”

“That’s family.”

The person scowls, forming deep lines across his forehead. “I get it already! Shut up!”

“Nii-san?” The voice is soft, and Gaku turns his head to see a younger boy pop his head out from around a corner. His brow is furrowed as he peers between them, eyes flickering suspiciously. “Who’s this?”

He’s staring Gaku down as if he expects him to answer when he doesn’t even know the boy’s name, and then he realizes that this must be the other guy’s brother.

“Iori—!” the Gaku Copy exclaims, jumping back in surprise. “Ah—um, uh…”

He breaks off and turns to Gaku expectantly, gesturing vaguely with his eyes as if he’s supposed to do something about this situation when he’s only just learned the brother’s name and he still doesn’t know the other guy’s name. He doesn’t even want to be here.

“We need to talk,” he says anyway.

“What? Nii-san, what are you—?” Iori is cut off when Gaku grabs his arm and pulls him back the way he came. He makes it about five steps before he realizes he has no idea where he’s going. He looks back at the Gaku Copy, expecting some kind of help since this wasn’t his idea and so he shouldn’t have to bullshit his way through this.

The Gaku Copy groans and leans against the wall. “You’re totally useless, aren’t you?”

Iori bristles, frowning deeply and narrowing his eyes at him. “Don’t talk about my brother like that. You haven’t even introduced yourself.”

The Copy presses his hands to his face and makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a grunt and a scream. “I hate this whole thing!” he yells, then peels one hand away to point an accusing finger at Gaku. “It’s your fault!”

“Wh—? My fault? You don’t even know how this happened!” Gaku retaliates, glaring up at him.

The brother, Iori, looks between them, his brows drawn in and worried. “What are you two even talking about?” he asks finally.

The Copy purses his lips and then, finally deciding on something, grabs Iori’s arm and starts pulling him. “Just come on. I’ll explain everything in a second.”

With only a little protest from Iori, they’re brought around the corner and up a flight of stairs. This floor is quieter without any people around to eavesdrop on their sensitive and very private conversation.

“We can do this in my room,” the Copy decides after pausing for only a moment, looking around the hallway as if deciding where the best place would be to let Iori know that his brother is currently inside the body of a man they’ve never met before. A bed would certainly be useful for that kind of topic, just in case this kid is faint of heart.

Iori goes to interject again, but a hard look from Gaku instantly shuts him up, his mouth instantly snapping closed. He knows it’s because Iori thinks he’s his brother, but in that instant he feels strangely influential. It’s not a bad feeling.

The Copy drags them into a small, modest room to the right and all but throws them onto the bed. He stands before them, arms crossed and legs spread wide. “All right,” he begins, voice deep and echoing off the walls with authority, “what the hell is going on?”

“I have the same question,” Iori asks, sticking his hand in the air. “Who are you?”

“Who—?” The Copy cuts himself off and looks down before jumping a little. “Right. It’s me, Mitsuki.”

Finally, a name. Even if it’s not a proper introduction, at least Gaku has something to go off of now. “I’m Yaotome, by the way. Yaotome Gaku.”

Two pairs of eyes slide toward him, and Gaku squirms under the force of their stares. Despite their obvious differences, they both have an aura of power to them that, when combined, feels like it could topple mountains. And Gaku has only been met with this once. He fears the day that he might face it again.

“Yaotome…” Mitsuki finally looks away, only to glance back down at the body he’s in. He pats himself, rubs his arms, tugs a little on the blazer. He sighs and looks back up, seemingly satisfied with his exploration. “Good to know the name of the guy I’m wearing.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“How else would you say it?” Mitsuki raises his eyebrow, challenging Gaku to answer. He nods once, smirking, when Gaku stays quiet. “Anyway, I’m Izumi Mitsuki and this is my little brother, Iori.”

Gaku side-eyes Iori, noticing the obvious height difference between the two of them. “Little brother…?”

“Can it, Yaotome,” Mitsuki warns. “I’m not afraid to fight someone who looks just like me.”

“Excuse me,” Iori says quickly, interjecting before their beef can escalate. “The original question was never actually answered. What’s going on?”

“Oh.” Gaku is quiet for a moment, processing everything that’s happened up to this point. “I think your brother and I switched bodies.”

Iori frowns. “Right. And Yotsuba-san hates King Pudding.”

None of those words make any kind of sense to Gaku, but he has the sneaking suspicion that he’s being mocked. “No, it’s true. I ran into your brother after an interview and the next thing I knew, I looked like him.”

Iori holds up a hand and breathes deeply. “Nii-san, please stop with the theatrics. I’m not a child anymore, so I won’t fall for these kinds of things.”

“Iori, he’s telling the truth,” Mitsuki adds, taking a step toward his brother as if the proximity will cause him to change his mind. His shoulders fall, though, when Iori leans back, eyes wide and uncertain.

“I don’t know what this is about, but I’m starting to worry,” Iori says. “Are you all right…?”

“You’re the one who asked what was going on!” Mitsuki stomps his foot and grabs onto Iori’s shoulders, forcing him to look him right in the eye. “Listen to me. You were born at almost midnight on January twenty-fifth. You didn’t want me to go to middle school because you were scared of me leaving. Your only friend at school is Tamaki, and he takes you to the arcade three times a week. You have a collection of cute mascot charms in your closet that you keep locked away and refuse to show anyone. You keep a diary of—”

Iori covers Mitsuki’s mouth with his hands, physically cutting him off. “Stop!”

“A diary…?” Gaku looks him over once. He certainly doesn’t look like the type to write in a journal, but he also doesn’t look like the kind of person who would like cute mascot charms.

Iori takes a few breaths and stares into Mitsuki’s eyes, unwavering. His frown deepens as he scrutinizes him, but seems to soften after a moment, his entire body relaxing in Mitsuki’s grip. “Nii-san…?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” he shouts finally releasing Iori to throw his arms up in exasperated celebration.

Gaku lets himself breathe out, a weight lifting off his chest. “Finally.”

“Then who are you?” Iori rounds on him without mercy, his gaze suddenly cold and defensive. “What did you do to my brother?”

“What did I—? How do you know it wasn’t him who did this to me?” He gestures at himself wildly, the tiny body’s movements far too limited for his big emotions.

“Well, I’ve never actually switched bodies with anyone before,” Mitsuki points out, hand cradling his chin as he thinks.

“Neither have I!”

“Are you sure?” Iori asks, leaning in to inspect him like a science experiment. “I can be witness to what nii-san is saying. You, however, don’t have an excuse. For all we know, you could have malicious intent and go around stealing people’s bodies to commit identity theft.”

“Wh—How did you come up with something like that?” Gaku asks, his jaw falling slack.

Iori huffs. “It’s a natural conclusion.”

“I don’t think it is…”

“Don’t mind Iori,” Mitsuki says, pulling his brother’s head into his arms and ruffling his hair. “He thinks too much, but he’s really smart.”

“Quit it!” Iori protests. His face is burning bright red and his words escape as a whine, which he tries to cover up by coughing. “I’m only being cautious. You don’t know who this person is, either.”

“You have a point.” Mitsuki looks down at himself again and tugs on his blazer once, frowning. He blows air out his nose and in one motion tears the jacket off of him, throwing it onto the bed next to him, and then he’s standing before them in Gaku’s white button-up and lucky red tie. “All right, Yaotome. Explain yourself.”

He squirms a little when both of the Izumis turn their full attention to him. He feels naked in the shorts that Mitsuki had been wearing when they switched, too exposed for this level of scrutiny. “I’m just a part-timer at my grandparents’ soba shop. I do delivery.”

“That’s it?” Despite Mitsuki’s blunt words, he looks upon Gaku with something that kind of looks like approval. “So you’re not a creepy supernatural monster bent on stealing my identity?”

“What? No.” Gaku shakes his head, shaggy bangs sticking on his eyelashes. “I’m not gonna steal your identity. If you’re so obsessed with that kind of thing, though, maybe I should be the one asking you that question.”

“Nii-san would never do something like that,” Iori insists, glaring at Gaku. “But if you didn’t cause this switch intentionally, then how did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” Mitsuki answers. His eyes flicker back to Gaku before settling on Iori. “It just sorta… happened when we fell.”

“That’s it!” Gaku exclaims, jumping up from the bed suddenly. Iori flinches next to him, startled by the sudden movement.

“What’s it?” he asks, staring at Gaku like he’s grown a second head.

“We have to fall again.”

“Eh?” Mitsuki tilts his head to the side. “Fall? Like, you want us to run into each other again?”

“Yes.” Gaku nods once, certain that his plan will work flawlessly. “If the trigger was us bumping into each other and falling down, then if we fall down again, it should revert this… situation.”

Iori frowns, staring hard at Gaku. “It’s still hard for me to believe that this isn’t all some intricate ruse, to be honest. And so I can’t say I’m comfortable with you putting yourself deliberately in harm’s way, nii-san.” He pauses, flickers his eyes between him and Mitsuki, and then huffs. “Whichever one of you is my brother, that is.”

“It’s me!” Mitsuki insists.

“Sorry,” Iori says, though his lip quivers ever so slightly. “It’s just hard to imagine you looking like… that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gaku grunts. “I look fine.”

“Just fine?” Mitsuki’s eyes widen. “Man, you sure are oblivious.”

Iori coughs into his hand.

“I’m just telling the truth, Iori,” Mitsuki continues. “I bet this guy has girls crawling all over him.”

Gaku chokes audibly, his face bristling with heat. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” Mitsuki chuckles. “You can’t seriously say that you don’t know how sexy you are.”

Gaku clears his throat, willing the heat to die from his cheeks. “I’m aware, just—I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.”

“So he’s vain,” Iori observes, as if he’s making a checklist in his head of all of Gaku’s bad qualities.

“I’m not!” he protests, though his efforts are futile if Iori’s raised eyebrow and pursed lips are anything to go by. “I’m not. I just get it a lot.”

“It’s fine, Iori. He seems harmless, so you don’t have to be all stiff with him,” Mitsuki reassures him, waving his hand as if to physically clear the air between them.

“Nii-san,” Iori says, pleading for Mitsuki to understand him. “This man stole your body. Isn’t that cause for concern?”

“Well, yeah, I’m definitely freaking out,” Mitsuki says, even if he looks totally calm on the outside. “But I also think Yaotome’s right here. We just have to retrace our steps and it should work, right?”

“Right,” Gaku agrees. “Let’s try it.”

Mitsuki bounds out of the door and into the hallway, leaning back around the doorframe before he disappears entirely. “I’m gonna walk back toward the room from the end of the hall. Yaotome, you just try to come out of the room. If we collide that way, without seeing each other, we won’t be able to hesitate.”

It sounds painful, but the first time they did it was painful too. It’s nothing they haven’t done at this point. So he nods and readies himself, clenching his fist in preparation for the collision.

“Please be careful with my brother’s body,” Iori says, a warning in his words despite his bland tone. “I won’t forgive you if you hurt him.”

“I have no intention of hurting him. He doesn’t deserve to be in this situation any more than I do.” He stops for a moment, and the room is quiet as he thinks. “I’m sorry that I got him mixed up in this, though. And you by extension.”

Iori doesn’t say anything to that, but he does sigh quietly, almost so soft that Gaku can’t hear him.

“All right! Let’s go!” Mitsuki calls from down the hall.

Gaku starts forward, taking each step with a purpose. He braces himself for impact just a foot from the doorway, and when he sees a flash of silver he clenches his eyes closed.

Their bodies come together in a tangle of limbs, their heads knocking together as they tumble through the doorway and out into the hall. Gaku groans, and already he can tell that nothing has changed.

“It didn’t work,” Mitsuki complains. Iori is already beside them, holding out his hand for Mitsuki to take. “What did we do wrong?

“Maybe we didn’t hit each other hard enough,” Gaku guesses. “I hit my head against the sidewalk pretty hard before. Maybe that’s what triggered the change.”

“Harder…?” Iori groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t worry so much, Iori!” Mitsuki says, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll be fine!”

“You say that while forcing me to watch you harm yourself,” Iori points out. “But by all means, continue on. It’s not like I care about your safety or anything.”

Mitsuki smiles and rolls his eyes. “You’re cute. Thanks for worrying about us.”

Iori holds up a finger. “For the record, I’m only worried about you and your body.”

“Gee, thanks.” Gaku stares at him, but Iori completely ignores him. Frustration wells up inside him, but he fights it down, reminding himself that he’s still just a high school kid, even if he is several centimeters taller than him right now.

Everything is several centimeters taller than him right now.

God, he wants his body back.

“Let’s go again,” Gaku says without wasting any more time. “We’ve got to get this fixed.”

“Right.” Mitsuki spins around on his heel and starts back down the hallway. “I’m gonna take a running start this time. We’ll make sure it hurts.”

“Got it.” Gaku steps back into the room and takes a few steadying breaths. He crouches low, ready to take off in a sprint when he hears Mitsuki’s call.

“Go!”

He kicks off the floor and makes a beeline for the doorway.

Mitsuki’s silver hair bounces in front of him, his lucky red tie flying everywhere, and then there’s a burst of pain blooming from the middle of Gaku’s forehead and along his arms and in his chest and legs and everywhere else that has bones.

“That one… was painful,” Gaku says, rolling around on the floor so that he’s not awkwardly positioned on top of Mitsuki.

“It didn’t work, either.” Mitsuki lifts one arm weakly, as if to show off that he’s still wearing Gaku’s body. “What are we doing wrong?”

A shadow looms over both of them as Iori steps closer. His cheeks are flushed a light pink and he avoids looking at either of them, opting instead to trail his eyes along the floor around them.

Mitsuki lifts his head off the floor and looks at him for a moment before giving up, falling back with a grunt. “What is it, Iori? Did you think of something?”

“Well, yes,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.

“Then tell us.” Gaku manages to push himself into a sitting position despite his aching. No matter which body he wakes up in tomorrow morning, he’s absolutely certain it will be covered in bruises.

“I’ve read a… novel, about something like this before.” Iori coughs and looks even further away, turning back into Mitsuki’s bedroom so that neither of them could possibly see his face.

“What kind of novel was it?” Gaku asks. “Were there body swaps involved?”

Iori nods. “It was a novel about two people who switched bodies when they, um…”

“Yeah?” Mitsuki groans as he pushes himself onto his elbows. “What was it? You know what to do, don’t you?”

“It’s embarrassing.” Iori shuffles behind the wall so that only his shoulder peeks out from behind it. “Please forget I said anything.”

“If you have a lead, then tell us,” Gaku demands. “Unless you want your brother to look like me for the rest of his life.”

“I dunno, it’s kinda nice being tall.” Mitsuki snickers next to him. He ignores Gaku’s glare. “I could definitely get used to is, is what I’m saying!”

Iori finally emerges from behind the wall, his face still too pink and his hair flying with the movement. “Nii-san! You can’t seriously be considering that!”

Mitsuki laughs. “No, but if you don’t tell us what you’re thinking then I might as well, right? If we can’t figure something out then we’re stuck.”

Iori breathes out slowly and swallows. “In the end, the thing that switched them back was a… a kiss.”

“So it’s that kind of novel.” Gaku hums.

“I just happened to pick it up!” Iori yells, suddenly defensive even though no one was accusing him of anything. “It belonged to Yotsuba-san.”

“You sure about that?” Mitsuki snickers just a little behind his hand, and Iori whips around to face him, indignant.

“I’m sure!”

Mitsuki’s eyes are sparkling and he’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Don’t worry Iori. I believe you.”

Iori doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer, and he huffs loudly and crosses his arms over his chest. Gaku ignores him, though, and turns to face Mitsuki. “Did we kiss when we fell?”

It’s Mitsuki’s turn to go red, flustered at the sudden question. “Wh–what? How should I know that?”

“He made a good point,” Gaku says, gesturing to Iori. “We fell toward each other, so our faces might have crashed into each other.”

“But would that even count as a kiss?”

“If body swaps are actually possible, then I’m sure the universe has a cruel enough sense of humor to make accidental kisses a trigger for it.”

Iori clears his throat. “I don’t want to be here for this.”

“What, you think it’s gonna be all mushy gushy like in your romance novel?” Mitsuki giggles, and it’s hard for even Gaku not to crack a smile at that. It seems Iori can be a cute kid, after all.

“I’m telling you, it’s not mine!” Iori puts his hands on his hips and spins around, chin high in the air. “Just get it over with while I’m not watching.”

“I guess it can’t hurt to try,” Mitsuki says. Then Gaku jumps when Mitsuki sticks a finger in his face, wagging it at him seriously. “But you better not take this weirdly, Yaotome. This is a one-time deal, got it?”

“Do you think I’m some kind of pervert…?” Gaku frowns at the finger and pushes it away.

“I don’t know who you are. That’s the whole point.” But even so, Mitsuki seems to relax, and he shuffles a little closer, his eyes already fluttering closed.

“Okay, I’m gonna do it…” Gaku whispers, leaning in to meet him halfway.

Their lips brush against each other, soft and slow, and then Mitsuki falls into the kiss and Gaku feels warm. He puts his arm out, resting it on Mitsuki’s knee, and Mitsuki reaches out and grabs onto Gaku’s arm as if to hold him there, to keep him from escaping.

Mitsuki pulls away first, and Gaku has to fight the urge to chase after him, instead letting his eyes open.

Iori was right. The first thing he sees is orange hair and a cute face staring up at him, eyes wide and jaw slack. It’s not one he’s used to seeing, even if he just spent the last hour inside that body. He feels like he’s looking at Mitsuki for the first time.

“It worked,” Mitsuki breathes, his voice no louder than a whisper. He doesn’t let go of Gaku’s arm, and Gaku’s hand is still on Mitsuki’s knee, but neither of them take the chance to move away from each other.

“I thought so,” Iori says matter-of-factly, looking over his shoulder and grimacing at the sight he sees. “It’s a classic trope. But to think that this trope would be true in real life…”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Gaku says, stretching his neck to the side. Finally, he lets go of Mitsuki so that he can throw his arms up above his head, reaching high. Every part of his body aches from where they ran into each other, and yet he still feels better than he ever has in his life. “It feels good to be back.”

Mitsuki nods enthusiastically as he pushes himself up, reaching his arm out to help Gaku up. “Seriously! I don’t know what I’d do if I were stuck like that forever.”

“You’d probably get along just fine,” Gaku grumbles. Mitsuki pretends he didn’t hear it.

“Wait,” Iori says, turning fully around to face them. He bites at his lip and looks away, still embarrassed. “I want to try one more thing.”

Gaku narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“If the switch can be triggered by a kiss, and the reverse is also true, then…” Iori trails off for a moment, breathing deeply as if to gather the courage to continue. Yep, he’s seriously a cute kid sometimes. “Then, you should be able to switch bodies at will, right?”

Gaku and Mitsuki look at each other, and then back at Iori, and then back at each other.

“What?” Mitsuki asks. “Why would we wanna do that?”

“One of these experiences is way more than enough,” Gaku says, grimacing.

“This is an important matter.” Iori sighs. “Body swaps are unheard of outside of fiction. If you both have the ability to create this phenomenon, then we should study it more in-depth, learn how it works, test its limits.”

“I’d rather just let sleeping dogs lie,” Gaku says honestly. “I don’t really want to experience something like that again.”

Iori raises an eyebrow. “And if you date someone? What happens if you kiss them? Will you switch bodies with them?”

“Ah—” Gaku cuts himself off and rubs the back of his neck, frantically searching for an answer. It’s true that he’s never actually kissed anyone before, so he really has no idea what would happen if he did end up getting a girlfriend. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before now,” Mitsuki says, playing with the hem of his hoodie. “So… maybe we should make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

“You sound like you just want to kiss me.” Gaku smirks and leans toward him.

Mitsuki rolls his eyes and shoves him away. “No, shut up. You’re getting on my nerves.”

“It would be a good idea to test the limits of this power, so please go ahead.” Iori waves his hands, gesturing for them to get closer. But even still, he closes his eyes, and Gaku shakes his head slightly, chuckling under his breath.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Mitsuki pushes himself up on his toes and grabs Gaku’s tie, jerking him downward for another kiss. He gets that warm feeling again, and then he feels fabric between his fingers and he opens his eyes to see himself staring down at him.

Gaku groans miserably. “So are we stuck with this?” he asks in that unfamiliar voice. “How do we get rid of it?”

“Beats me.” Mitsuki shrugs and leans back in, giving Gaku one more quick kiss. He feels himself settle into his own body once again in the blink of an eye, and then he lets himself relax finally.

“We’ll have to run more tests,” Iori says. “But for now we can conclude that you two will switch bodies whenever you kiss. We’ll need to bring in a third party to test other hypotheses.”

“What, are you volunteering?” Mitsuki asks, hand on his hip.

“Sorry, I don’t feel comfortable kissing your little brother.” Gaku waves his hands in front of him.

“I’m not comfortable with that either,” Iori says, glaring at them both. “I meant another friend you can trust. Perhaps someone in your club, nii-san.”

Mitsuki’s eyes light up in realization. “My club! I’ll invite someone over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow…?” Then, he’ll have to do this whole thing again tomorrow. It was already too exhausting to go through once, and yet he’s become the unwilling test subject of a high school boy.

He supposes he should be more open to this, since it’s his life Iori is talking about. And if they figure out how to make this power go away, then he can get a girlfriend without having to worry about explaining that he switches bodies with whoever he kisses—unless of course, it doesn’t even work that way.

He runs a hand down his face. Even now, he can tell this is going to be a long, exhausting journey.

Chapter Text

Gaku tilts his head as he scrutinizes this new person. “And you said your name is…?”

“Sunohara Momose! But just call me Momo,” the guy chirps, bouncing in his seat. His two-tone hair flutters around his face as if some nonexistent wind were blowing around him, and his smile is blinding. He looks like a model. “I’m Mitsuki’s friend.”

“Same here,” Gaku answers, though he’s still not entirely sure if he can call himself Mitsuki’s friend. It’s more along the lines of, the unwitting other half to a freaky, impossible phenomenon which happens between the two of them and has tied their fates together. But that’s kind of long so perhaps he’ll just stick with friend.

“It’s nice to meet you then, Gaku!” Momo sticks out his hand for Gaku to take, and he does graciously. “So, Mitsuki told me you have special powers?”

Gaku chokes and whips around to face Mitsuki, who shrugs. “Why did you blame it on me?”

“Well, it’s definitely not me,” Mitsuki says pointedly. “I’ve never swapped bodies with anyone before, remember?”

“I told you, I haven’t either!” Gaku grunts, knowing this argument is pointless. “And besides, the swap is only triggered by a kiss, and you said you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Yeah, well…” Mitsuki trails off and glances off to the side. “It just can’t be me, okay?”

Gaku wants to scream, or tear his hair out, but he does neither of those things and instead turns back to Momo. “Anyway. How much has Izumi-ani told you about this?”

Momo nods, tapping his chin as he thinks. “He messaged me last night saying something like ‘you’ll never believe what happened today,’ and obviously I shot back ‘bet I can guess,’ because a challenge is a challenge, right? But no matter how much I guessed he just kept saying ‘nope’ or ‘nuh-uh!’ So finally I relented and he told me about your freaky powers.”

“That didn’t actually answer the question,” Gaku mumbles. “But all right. We’re all on the same page, right?”

Iori, sitting off to the side with a pen in hand and a pad of paper set out in front of him, nods. “I’ll document everything from the experiments to make sure we don’t miss anything. First, I need you and nii-san to kiss, Yaotome-san.”

Mitsuki grimaces. “I don’t like that my first kiss was basically stolen by you, you know.”

“It’s the same for me,” Gaku says even as he steps closer. Mitsuki crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t withdraw from Gaku’s advances, and even though he can feel two pairs of prying eyes on them he leans in and kisses Mitsuki softly.

There’s a tingle of heat, and when he opens his eyes, he’s staring up into clear blue eyes. “Have you seriously never kissed anyone before?” Mitsuki asks, leaning away. He immediately reaches up and fiddles with the silver hair now framing his face. “How can you stand having hair this long? It just gets in the way.”

Gaku doesn’t know which question to answer first, so he hesitates before deciding on chronological order. “No, I’ve never kissed anyone before you. And my hair is just fine.”

“Well yeah, it looks great, but isn’t it a pain to keep up with?” To prove his point, Mitsuki shakes his head and runs his fingers through it, messing up the perfect waves to the point that he looks like he just woke up. “See?”

“You get used to doing it,” Gaku says. “And now you’ve ruined it.”

Mitsuki giggles, obviously unremorseful. “Sorry, sorry.”

Momo’s wordless shout reminds them both that they’re not the only people in the room, and Gaku turns to see Momo staring at them with wide eyes bouncing back and forth between them. “Whoa, Did you seriously switch places?”

“I told you that already.” Mitsuki frowns.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any easier to believe. It just seems so impossible!” As if proving his point, he reaches out and pinches Mitsuki’s cheek, tugging on it like it’s a mask that’ll come off with the right amount of force. “You sure you’re not Gaku?”

“I’m sure!” Mitsuki tears Momo’s fingers off of him and shuffles away, holding out his hand between them to make sure the gap can’t be bridged. “We switched places, and now I’m Mitsuki and that’s Yaotome!”

“What’s my favorite sport?” Momo shoots back immediately.

“You’re literally a soccer player!” Mitsuki sighs. “Momo-san, we really did switch bodies. We don’t know how it happened, either, but every time we kiss, we end up like this.” He gestures at himself, showing off Gaku’s body.

Momo taps his finger against his chin. “That’s so cool! Can you do it with anyone else?”

Gaku shakes his head. “We haven’t tried yet.”

“So what would happen if you tried to kiss someone you liked?” Momo bounces up and down in his seat on the bed, practically vibrating as he shoots off each question.

“I wouldn’t know,” Gaku responds in a monotone. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Girls, huh…” Momo trails off as he contemplates Gaku’s preferences.

Mitsuki looks down, moving his arms around as he checks out Gaku’s body with the utmost interest. “It’s just hard to imagine a guy like you has never had a partner before.”

There it is again. Gaku tries not to make his self-pity obvious. “It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy working all the time.”

“Well, yeah, I guess so, but…”

Gaku raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you know, since you work in the same industry?”

“Sure, but I also don’t look like some kind of sex god,” Mitsuki blurts out, then immediately covers his mouth, eyes wide.

Momo snickers off to the side, falling over on Mitsuki’s bed to prop himself up on his elbow. “He’s right.”

“I’m not a sex god,” Gaku insists. “Even if I am good looking, I still wouldn’t go that far.”

Momo leans over and whispers in Mitsuki’s ear, loudly enough that Gaku can hear it easily. “Wow, and he’s humble, too.”

Mitsuki barks out a laugh and shoos Momo away, already grabbing at the striped button-up he’d been wearing and pulling Gaku to him. “All right, all right, we figured out that we can still switch with each other, so let’s hurry up and switch back. I miss my body.”

“I thought you’d like being tall.” Momo rolls over onto his back and flops over the side of the bed, his short hair falling off his forehead.

“I want to be tall in my own body,” Mitsuki shoots back easily. “I get nothing from being stuck inside this guy. It’s just weird.”

Gaku huffs. “I don’t like it any better than you.”

“Then quit pouting and kiss me.” Mitsuki leans in eagerly, already puckering his lips. Gaku is helpless to stop it, not that he’d even want to. Switching bodies is weird and uncomfortable and he’d much prefer staying inside his own body.

Mitsuki kisses Gaku hard and quick, mashing their lips together in his efforts to get this over with quickly. Gaku barely feels the change, too surprised to notice, but when he blinks open his eyes he’s definitely switched back.

“I’m done kissing,” Mitsuki says, prying Gaku’s hands off his shirt and falling backwards onto his butt. “I don’t want to be someone who goes around kissing strangers, you know. I have standards.”

“You do!” Momo exclaims. “Come on, come on, tell me!”

“Of course nii-san has standards!” Iori nearly shouts, only holding himself back at the very last second. “He’s not just going to give himself to anyone who asks.”

“I just want to be dating the person, is all,” Mitsuki admits, shifting around on the floor so that he’s cross-legged. “It feels weird kissing someone you’re not in love with, doesn’t it?”

Momo nods seriously. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“I hope you’re not agreeing.” Iori sighs, clicking his pen a few times before scribbling a few notes on the paper. “Because you’re being kissed next.”

“Eh?” Momo jumps and turns toward Iori, eyes wide. “Me?”

Iori doesn’t even flinch. “That’s the reason we called you here, after all.”

“I thought you just wanted a trustworthy and super cute confidante,” Momo pouts. “But I guess I can help out. Pucker up, Mitsuki!”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m done kissing.” Mitsuki crosses his arms over his chest in some form of punctuation. “Try Yaotome instead.”

Gaku shakes his head. “Don’t make me out to be some philanderer…”

“We have to confirm if this power works with other people, or if it’s isolated among you two,” Iori reasons, and he does have a point. That doesn’t mean Gaku has to like the point, though.

But he sighs, because he might as well get it over with, right? “Fine, fine. Come on, Momo.”

Momo practically bounces off the bed, eager to join in. Gaku can’t even begin to understand why, since it’s really all just a hassle. He’s gone from never having been kissed to kissing two different boys several times, at the same time. It’s starting to make his head spin a little.

And that’s where he places the blame when his breath hitches in his throat as Momo leans in to kiss him, eyes closed and eyelashes long. Gaku swallows because this is new to him, this isn’t Mitsuki anymore, this is unknown territory and he doesn’t know what Momo’s lips will feel like or if he’ll reach out to hold him like Mitsuki does.

His thoughts cut off when lips touch lips and there’s a warm tingle that spreads throughout Gaku and positively chills him to the bone. He’s become far too familiar with the sensation, and he already knows what to expect when he opens his eyes.

“So?” Mitsuki asks, poking his head around Gaku’s shoulder to peer at them. “What happened?”

“We… switched,” Gaku says, looking down at unfamiliar hands. The nails are painted a bright pink, two little rhinestones on each ring finger to accent them. They’re darker and rougher than Gaku’s or even Mitsuki’s, hands that do hard work frequently despite the pretty manicure.

“Wha…” Momo’s tone is high and almost shrill, which sounds downright silly in Gaku’s voice. “We switched? We really switched!”

“Didn’t you believe us before?” Iori asks, leaning one elbow on his knee.

“Well, I tried!” Momo shoots back, twisting around to face Iori. “But it’s hard not to doubt it when you haven’t experienced it yourself!”

Iori pauses and thinks. “That’s a fair point,” he concedes with a nod. “I’m still having trouble believing all of this. If I didn’t know nii-san as well as I do, I would never believe this.”

“It’s weird!” Momo raises his arms, gesturing wildly with them. “I’m me, but I’m also you! How does this even work?”

“Hell if I know,” Gaku grumbles. Momo’s bangs tickle his forehead and he has the urge to brush them away.

“So then it’s settled,” Mitsuki says with a note of finality. “Yaotome’s the one with the freaky body swap power.”

“It must be, if he can replicate the results with someone other than you,” Iori agrees. “Congratulations, Yaotome-san.”

“Congratulations?!”

“You two should kiss to return to normal,” Iori says, completely ignoring Gaku entirely.

“But Gaku’s a total hottie!” Momo fans himself with one hand and caresses his own cheek with the other. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to normal.”

“Momo…” Gaku trails off, trying to decide which part of that is the one he wants to protest. “We can’t just stay like this.”

Momo pauses, thinks, and then nods seriously. “You’re right, if I stay like this then Yuki won’t know who I am.”

“I guess you could just tell him,” Mitsuki starts, then shakes his head forcefully. “But then again, he might not believe you. It’s better to switch back.”

“Okay, okay, come here Gaku!” Momo tugs on Gaku’s sleeve, pulling him closer to him. Their lips touch before Gaku has a chance to even think about it, and then he blinks and he’s back in his own body, a feeling of himself spreading throughout his limbs as he settles back into place. He flexes his fingers a little bit to get used to it, and he finds he can breathe easier now that he’s not inside someone else.

“What a strange phenomenon,” Iori muses.

Gaku blinks, turning his head over his shoulder to face Iori. “You’re just now realizing this?”

Iori sets his notebook to the side and slides off his chair onto the floor so that he’s eye level with everyone else. “Obviously not, but now that we have more information, it’s easier to comment on it. How does a power like this come into existence? How are you supposed to manage it? Can you just never have an intimate partner again in your life without risking the body swap power activating?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve never had a girlfriend before.” Mitsuki’s eyes are alight with humor, but his words, at least, are serious. “Imagine trying to figure that one out while trying to be like, sexy.”

“A total mood killer, for sure,” Momo agrees, eyes wide.

Gaku clenches his fists at his sides to keep from pulling his hair out. “Please stop commenting on my love life.”

“We can’t comment on something you don’t have.” Iori’s smooth words come out devoid of emotion, as if he were answering a question in class. Gaku feels as if he’s been put on display at a circus, surrounded by people coming to view him as nothing more than a spectacle.

But it’s not worth it to get angry over, so he breathes out deeply and frowns, hoping to move the conversation along to the next topic. “So what do we do now, then? Do you think there’s a way to stop this from happening?”

“It could be any number of things.” Iori stretches out to grab his notebook, flipping through a few pages as he skims through his notes. “We don’t know the origin of this power, and we don’t know much of anything else except that you are able to switch bodies with the people you kiss. It’s not like there’s a precedent for something like this.”

“I think I read a trashy romance novel about something like this before,” Momo points out. “The two leads switched bodies, and at the end the only way they could get back to normal was with a kiss.”

Iori’s face flushes a bright pink and he looks away, embarrassed. “Yes, well, that trashy novel might have some merit to it after all.”

“Maybe there’s nothing you can do about it, you know?” Mitsuki comments. He’s staring right at Gaku, almost as if he can see through him. “Maybe you were given this power for a reason. You know, like a hero.”

“Me? A hero?” Gaku points at himself, already shaking his head. “That doesn’t really suit my image.”

“What? I think it’d be cool.” Mitsuki grins and strikes a pose. “Imagine what you can do with that kind of power! Switch bodies with a criminal and confess to their crimes, pose as someone to get information about an undercover case… I’m sure you could do a lot with it.”

“As expected of nii-san.” Iori seems to bristle with pride. He seems like he doesn’t even realize that there’s a tiny smile forming on his lips. “Always wanting to help people and make the most out of life.”

“Ah, cut it out, Iori!” Mitsuki presses his hands to his face. “It just seems cool!”

“You just wanna be tall,” Momo giggles. “I’d switch with you if I could, Mitsuki! I’d love to try being a cute little shorty like you!”

“Would a three-way switch even work…?” Iori looks down at his notebook and reads his neatly penned notes, looking for an answer.

“We could try it,” Gaku offers, already shuffling around so that he’s in a better position to receive a kiss.

“Oh?” Momo leans in, his grin sly. “You’ve warmed up to the idea, haven’t you?”

He’s not entirely sure how to answer Momo’s question because he’s not entirely sure how he feels about it himself. “I figured that if I’m actually the one with this power, then I’ve got to get used to it, right? So it’s fine.”

“I said I didn’t want to kiss anyone anymore,” Mitsuki says, rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t close himself off, either.

Iori holds his hand up, palm facing out. “I’d rather not partake in this, so nii-san, if you would.”

Mitsuki sighs dramatically. “If it’s my dear baby brother asking, then I can’t refuse, can I?” Iori buries his nose into his notebook, grabbing his pen and readying it to jot down his observations. Mitsuki scoots closer, biting at his lip. “I’m only doing this once, okay? Then I’m seriously done!”

“Fine, let’s try it then.” Gaku leans in toward Mitsuki, and he finds the familiar lips on his, an easy, gentle kiss that’s more hesitant than Momo’s but somehow more serious. Now that he has something to compare them to, he finds himself curious about all the different ways a person’s kiss can speak for them.

The warm sensation spreads through him and then he feels constricted again, inside a body which doesn’t belong to him, and is yet still familiar now that he’s spent several hours stuck within it in just the past two days. Mitsuki, too, doesn’t seem to out of sorts when he opens his eyes, taking in the room from a totally different vantage point.

“Now I’ll kiss Momo-san,” Gaku says, holding out his hand for Momo to take.

Momo shuffles forward, lips pursed. “It’s weird kissing you when you look like my best friend, you know!”

“Just keep telling yourself it’s me, Gaku.” He hopes the attempt at assuaging Momo’s unsettled feelings are successful, but when Momo scrunches his nose up he concludes that he probably didn’t help much.

And yet he leans in willingly, letting Gaku take the lead. He shifts his position so that he can push himself up on his knees, finding himself suddenly too short to properly kiss him, and then they close the gap.

He already knows that the experiment worked before he can see for himself. Tight jeans suddenly hug his hips and a loose-fitting jacket crinkles with every slight movement he makes, a stark difference from Mitsuki’s baggy jean shorts and too-big button-up that don’t even remotely go well together.

“So?” Iori sounds far away as Gaku processes the world around him. He knows when he opens his eyes that he’s looking at Momo in Mitsuki’s body and Mitsuki in his body, and yet it still feels hard to grasp completely.

“It worked,” Mitsuki answers because Gaku is taking far too long. “A three-way switch.”

Iori scribbles something down on his notepad and then breathes out, satisfied with himself. “I thought that might work, but I wanted to test it out. I wonder if there’s any use for this power of yours, Yaotome-san.”

“It seems kinda useless to me,” Gaku says with a frown. “Even using it for crime fighting like Izumi-ani said would be hard, since I have to kiss someone to trigger the switch.”

“It’s inconvenient, all right,” Momo agrees, nodding seriously. He looks off to the side as he thinks. “But there’s still some cool things you could do with it, like skip a day of work or eavesdrop on your crush to find out if he likes you!”

“You’re thinking of things you’d do with that power, aren’t you,” Mitsuki says in a deadpan. His bland expression looks out of place on Gaku’s face, and Gaku gets the urge to switch back as quickly as they can, to make everything right again.

“Gaku could do it too!” Momo protests. “But yeah, I can think of all kinds of things I would do if I could switch bodies with people. You’re super lucky!”

Gaku grimaces. “Lucky isn’t the word I was thinking of.”

“Well, as long as you’re not dating anyone, you don’t have anything to worry about,” Iori says matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing the weather or giving a lecture and not stabbing Gaku with a metaphorical knife. “You never even knew about your power until yesterday, after all. I doubt your life will change so drastically with this newfound knowledge. You should be able to keep living as you were.”

“You don’t even have to use it if you don’t want to,” Mitsuki adds helpfully. “But you could probably find some use for it.”

“Use us as your guinea pigs!” Momo suggests, poking his tongue out as he grins. “Make Mitsuki go to work for you.”

“I have my own job, Momo-san. You should take his shifts instead.”

“I can’t cook as well as you, though,” Momo points out.

Mitsuki hums thoughtfully. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that, then.”

“Now if Yuki were here, he could whip up a gourmet meal in seconds.” Momo’s chest puffs out as if he were boasting about himself.

“Yuki-san.” Mitsuki frowns, brows pulled together. “Your boyfriend?”

Momo’s face turns an unattractive shade of red and he falls backward with a sudden shout. “N–no he’s not! He’s just a friend!”

Gaku is unconvinced.

“Well…” Momo scratches at his cheek. “If he asked to be my boyfriend, I wouldn’t say no—but! But he’s way too good for me anyway.”

Iori sighs loudly and pointedly behind them. “Shouldn’t we wrap this up? We didn’t meet here to talk about our love lives, after all.”

“You joined in too, Iori,” Mitsuki points out with a snicker, and Iori turns away and clears his throat.

“That has nothing to do with this,” Iori says firmly. “I don’t want to hear about your crushes. This isn’t some middle school sleepover.”

“No no, Iori’s right.” Momo nods fervently.

“You just don’t want us to talk about your crush,” Mitsuki mutters, a knowing smirk plastered firmly on his lips.

Momo throws out his arms wide. “Well, yeah! It’s embarrassing!”

“You’re the one who brought him up!” Iori shouts breathlessly, exasperatedly, before placing his head in his hands.

“And now I’m taking it back,” Momo says, placing his hands on his hips and turning up his nose.

“You can’t just—” Iori breaks off to take a slow, centering breath. “Anyway, I believe I’ve gathered all the data I can for now. I will make copies of the notes and distribute them to you all so that you have a reference to look back on.”

“Wow, so diligent,” Mitsuki teases, poking his tongue out through his lips as he smiles. “I have the best little brother!”

Iori coughs. “Nii-san, please.”

Mitsuki snickers openly. “Thanks for your hard work, Iori. We found out a lot of stuff today thanks to you.”

Gaku thinks he’d rather have been left in the dark with most of it, but he knows now anyway, and there’s no turning back. He really can switch bodies with anyone he kisses, and there’s no way to deny it anymore.

He groans loudly, ignoring Momo’s mocking laughter.

Chapter Text

There’s an air of elegance around this man, with his poised, slender figure and a beyond beautiful face. He’s tall, he’s blond, he’s foreign, and Gaku’s heart skips several beats.

“This is the guy I have to switch bodies with? A host?” he asks hesitantly, not even sure where to begin asking him to do something so uncouth as kissing him.

Momo nods vehemently, completely engrossed in the plan. “Rokuya Nagi,” he explains, pulling up a picture on his phone and shoving it in Gaku’s face. “He’s gorgeous, but he’s a total snake!”

“He looks harmless,” Mitsuki observes with a raised eyebrow. “Way too pretty to be the embodiment of pure evil. Are you sure that’s him?”

“That’s him, all right.” Momo sticks out his lip in a pout. “He took my darling Yuki away from me! He left my apartment two nights ago to go meet with that Nagi guy, and then he never showed up the next day! He’s got to have something to do with it. Gaku, you have to get him back for me.”

“How will switching bodies even help?” Gaku sighs, lolling his head to the side.

Momo stares blankly, and Gaku starts to feel as if the answer is obvious, like he should already be aware of it. “You can get into his phone that way, or feel him up for some notes in his pockets, or something… Get up close and personal with him!”

Gaku takes a step back, but not far enough that he’ll step out from behind the wall and reveal himself to Nagi and his entourage. “I’m not doing that.”

Momo groans. “How else are you supposed to find what he has on him?”

“Not by feeling him up, that’s for sure.”

Mitsuki rolls his eyes and gives Gaku a hard shove, pushing him the needed few steps back so that he’s standing in the archway. “Whatever. Just got switch bodies with him so we can be done with this mess.”

Gaku freezes, contemplates running back. “But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to—!”

“Hello,” a gentle voice calls, and Gaku clamps his mouth shut. “Can I help you?”

He’s definitely foreign, Gaku notes. His accent is thick and he has some weird verbal mannerisms that has Gaku’s head spinning as he tries to keep up with whatever he’s saying. It sounds like a mixture of English and Japanese, but he failed English back in high school so he’s definitely no authority on this front.

He clears his throat and tries to still the pounding in his chest as he turns stiffly to meet Rokuya Nagi’s eyes. They’re blue… he thinks. Maybe a little green, maybe a few colors he’s never even heard of. The longer he stares, the more they seem to swim in his vision, like two pools in every single tired metaphor that’s ever been written.

A hand waves in front of his face, and when Gaku blinks Nagi is suddenly standing right in front of him, head cocked to the side as if he’s trying to figure something out. Gaku lets out a yelp and stumbles back, his face warm and probably unsightly.

Nagi doesn’t seem to notice that, though, or maybe he’s too much of a gentleman to point it out. “Are you lost?”

Gaku shakes his head and reminds himself of the mission that’s been forced upon him. “No, I came to see you.”

Nagi’s eyebrows—thin and perfectly trimmed—shoot up, and he blinks a few times before responding. “I see. Then, should we go somewhere more private?”

The girls he’s left behind giggle, but when Gaku looks over Nagi’s shoulder he can see longing expressions mirrored on each of their faces. Like they’re jealous of him, or something.

Oh.

Oh, god, they know.

He doesn’t know how they know, but they know. They know he’s here to kiss Nagi, which means Nagi probably knows too, and all of a sudden Gaku feels very small and very much like he doesn’t want to be here anymore.

But Nagi hooks his arm around Gaku’s and tugs him back out of the room, leaving behind the small group of girls and Mitsuki and Momo as he pulls him down the hallway to somewhere more… private.

“Wait for me, my princesses!” Nagi waves as he exits the club room, not even glancing back.

The host club, Heron, isn’t very big. It’s a modest establishment in the middle of town that started out as an ordinary izakaya a little over a year ago, if Gaku remembers correctly. So he can’t figure out where this private room could possibly be. But Nagi’s grip is tight around his wrist as he leads him through some doors into a smaller, plainer hallway that seems to stretch on for forever.

Then they corner into an empty room with nothing but a few tables stacked against the wall and some chairs dotting the floor. It looks like a storage room, and Gaku can’t help but feel that this is extremely cliché.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Nagi asks as soon as the door closes behind them, locking them both inside and preventing Gaku’s escape.

No turning back now.

Gaku opens his mouth to answer, but a hand trailing up his arm stops him before he can speak. Nagi’s fingers are walking up his bicep, lightly enough that it tickles his skin and sends shivers through him with each gentle touch. He’s watching Gaku with hungry eyes, the dim light of the room bathing him in a golden glow. He looks like an angel of victory, having caught his prey.

“Uh,” Gaku tries, but his voice comes out hoarse. Nagi chuckles.

“I usually prefer women,” Nagi says, sultry and low and absolutely enthralling. “But a man could persuade me… if he begs.”

Gaku clears his throat. “What do you…”

“You came here for me, right?” Nagi asks, his brow furrowing. “You wanted to confess to me, to hold me, to do terrible things to me.”

“T–terrible things?” Gaku stammers. His throat is dry.

Nagi’s hand stops on Gaku’s shoulder and pulls himself in, forcing Gaku to back up into the wall. He’s cornered, and Nagi’s only getting closer. “I’m a host; it’s part of the job.”

“I don’t think that’s right—” But Gaku cuts himself off when Nagi squeezes his shoulder.

The heavy beats of loud techno music from a few rooms away drown out the thump thump thumping of Gaku’s heart, and he’s grateful for the cover so that Nagi won’t know just how much this is affecting him.

“What is it you want?” Nagi asks, so close now that Gaku can feel his breath on his lips. He tries and fails to suppress a shudder and thinks that if he wasn’t sure before, he sure as hell knows now that he’s not straight even a little bit.

The lump in his throat and the quickness of his breath make it hard for him to speak, but he forces it out anyway. “A—a kiss.”

Nagi leans back, just a little, and blinks. “Is that all?”

Gaku nods. His face is too hot. He feels like he’s on the sun, or that he’s too close to it. Nagi’s blinding radiance is close enough to that.

“What’s with that reaction then…” Nagi giggles, bringing a polite hand up to cover his mouth. Gaku suddenly misses the breath tickling his skin. “You must be new, to be so shy. All right. I’ll give you a kiss.”

And then he’s leaning in again and Gaku has to remind himself that he’s not here because he wants to be. He’s here because Momo needs him to switch bodies with this kidnapper, or whoever he is. He’s dangerous and coy and the only way he can help Momo is by using his weird body swapping power to switch with Nagi, knock him out, and dig through his pockets for some kind of information, or swindle one of those girls into talking.

Or, that’s what he’s supposed to do. His brain is so muddled and disoriented from the atmosphere, from the music to the lighting to the beautiful man coming closer and closer and closer, and Gaku can’t think straight. He can’t think at all, in fact. The world is spinning around him and Nagi’s still coming closer and all he can do is watch.

What’s he supposed to do now? He can’t remember, not when he’s drowning in eyes so otherworldly he can’t even give a name to their color. Not when he’s held in place by firm but soft arms, back against the wall as he helplessly waits for Nagi to strike.

He’s never imagined himself to be the one to receive this kind of attention. He always thought he’d be the one dishing it out, making girls swoon at his feet as he takes charge and doesn’t hold back.

Oh, he was wrong. He was very, very wrong.

He closes his eyes right before Nagi’s lips meet his, and the world seems to explode around him.

This is the power of a professional host, he thinks numbly. The sensations coursing through him, the absolute expertise he exercises with ease, the way he knows exactly what to do and how to do it to make Gaku absolutely melt.

And god, he melts.

He doesn’t even register that Nagi’s pulled away until after the heat dies down and is replaced by a gentle stagnant breeze, a lonely, wistful breath of air between them that has Gaku longing for more.

When he opens his eyes, ready to beg for it, he looks straight into Nagi’s eyes. There’s a smirk on his face that makes Gaku’s heart stutter.

“Was that all…?” Nagi asks, and even his voice is a little breathless, as if he didn’t steal enough of Gaku’s.

He barely registers that he’s being addressed, the words sounding far away and meaningless to his mushy brain. His gaze is fixated on Nagi’s lips, unable to take in anything else outside of the primal need to taste them again. His chest is hot, his face is burning, his hands are sweaty, and it’s all Gaku can do not to collapse right here in his arms.

Nagi giggles again, a sound that finally breaks through the thick fog in his brain. Its melody is enough to send Gaku crashing back to earth with a deep, shuddering breath. “Huh?”

How eloquent of him. He’s truly a man of many words.

Nagi smiles, stroking Gaku’s arm again. It tingles and Gaku wants to feel that hand roam his entire body. “Is this your first time?”

He can’t really say no. Technically, Mitsuki was his first. Momo was his second. But those circumstances aren’t exactly… ideal, to say the least. For one, they resulted in weird physical changes that left Gaku’s head spinning, and not in a good way.

But still, it’s not his first time. He shakes his head.

“Still cute,” Nagi coos. His smile seems more genuine and less flirty now. “Well, you’re free to go now, unless there’s something else you want…”

He raises his eyebrow suggestively and Gaku doesn’t even know where to begin to describe everything he wants Nagi to do to him. He clears his throat and tries to voice his desires, but all that comes out is, “Don’t I have to pay?”

Nagi laughs, loud and glorious like some heavenly tune. “The first time is free. That’s my policy.”

First time… “But—”

Nagi presses a finger to Gaku’s lip, silencing him. “I’ll see you next time. Then you can tell me everything.”

Gaku doesn’t know how to fight against those words, not when Nagi’s still so close and still touching him, a hand running down his chest, fingers playing with his shirt. But then he steps back and releases Gaku, even though Gaku wants nothing more than to continue whatever that was.

Nagi makes his way to the door and opens it, letting the stench of cologne and sweat fill the room, overwhelming Gaku and carrying him with it out the door.

He can barely tell he’s moving, his entire body numb as he walks down the hall, back in the direction he’d come from. At some point, Nagi had disappeared, and by the time he makes it back to the room where those girls had gathered, he feels like he’s floating.

Momo and Mitsuki are still there, leaning against the wall as they wait for him to return. Gaku barely realizes they’re there and almost wanders past them until a tight grip on his arm brings him back to reality.

It’s then that he remembers everything he was supposed to do. The plan. The Mission with a capital M. Momo’s kidnapped boyfriend or whatever his relationship was to him. The body swap.

Oh god, the body swap.

He looks down at himself and realizes that, yep, that’s him all right. He’s still in his body. He’s absolutely, completely not Rokuya Nagi. Which means Nagi still has his own body.

Which means his power didn’t work.

“Are you…?” Mitsuki asks tentatively, his grasp tight and unrelenting on his arm, like he’s holding him captive.

“It’s me,” Gaku answers with a sigh. Mitsuki loosens his grip but doesn’t release him entirely.

“Gaku?” Momo asks, shouting over the music in the club not out of necessity but rather shock. “But what happened to switching places with Nagi?”

Gaku shrugs and shakes his head. “I kissed him. Or—or, he kissed me, I guess…”

The reminder of the kiss sends a deep flush to his face, and he looks away to save face.

“Then how are you still, you know, you?” Mitsuki asks, tugging on Gaku’s arms as if jerking it around like a lever will dispense some kind of knowledge from his mouth. “What about your freaky body swap ability?”

“We shouldn’t stay here,” Gaku says, taking Mitsuki’s vise-like grip on him for granted and pulling him along toward some place more secluded. Momo hops along after them, his eyes wide and furious at the failed plan.

The evening air is chilly and calm compared to the hot atmosphere of the host club, and Gaku drinks it in like it’s a cold glass of water, relaxing his muscles and easing the tension in his body. But still he doesn’t stop, wanting to get as far away from the club as he can get before Mitsuki and Momo decide enough is enough and they start drilling him for answers.

He makes it about a block before they snap.

“What happened back there?” Momo demands, grabbing onto Gaku’s other arm and forcing him to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. At least there are no people around this late at night, so they don’t really have to worry about being overheard.

“I don’t know!” he answers honestly. “I asked him to kiss me, and he did it. And then—”

“Then?” Mitsuki asks, squinting a little as he peers at him.

Gaku’s mind replays the entire scene for him again, and again, and again, until he can’t take it anymore. “And then nothing happened.”

They don’t need to know the details.

“So, what? Is your power gone?” Mitsuki asks, finally releasing Gaku in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. “Did we just hallucinate the past couple days?”

“That’d be a pretty crazy acid trip,” Momo muses out loud, tapping a finger to his chin. “Can people collectively hallucinate anyway?”

Mitsuki shakes his head. “No way! Maybe I’ve just dreamt this whole thing and neither of you actually exist.”

“I don’t know, Mitsuki, I feel pretty real,” Momo retaliates.

“I feel real, too. Are you sure your real isn’t fake?” For good measure, Mitsuki pokes Momo in the side, getting a good giggle out of him.

Momo swats at the hand and dances away. “I don’t think real can be fake, you know?”

“That is the whole point of being real, after all.”

Gaku squints, trying to follow along with what they’re saying. “Does this have a point, or are you just—”

“Gaku!” Momo exclaims, rounding on him. He grips at Gaku’s arms and steps closer, the toes of their shoes bumping against each other. “Kiss me!”

“What?” Gaku stumbles back, trying to get away, but Momo is strong—he plays soccer, after all. He probably exercises way more than Gaku ever has in his life, and that’s saying a lot. “Why so suddenly…”

“We have to test if your power is really gone!” Momo leans in, puckering his lips.

In the split second that Gaku gives in to Momo’s demands, he’s already cupping his hands under his jaw and leaning down to meet his lips. Their kiss is short, but it’s sweet and tastes like a fruity juice, just like all the other times they’ve kissed.

His eyes are closed when he pulls away, but he already knows that nothing happened, that they’re still in the same bodies. He opens his eyes and confirms that yes, he’s still about ten centimeters taller than Momo.

Momo’s lip pokes out when his eyes open and he comes to the same conclusion. “We didn’t switch,” he pouts.

“So that means it really is gone?” Mitsuki asks, leaning in between them and forcing them apart. He looks Gaku up and down like he’s some kind of natural phenomenon, and really Gaku doesn’t blame him. He is some weird freak of nature, after all; normal people don’t have the ability to switch bodies with anyone they kiss.

Oh, maybe he is normal now. Since the power’s gone, that is.

He thinks that should be a relief, since this means he can go on dates without having to worry about whether they’ll want to kiss and oh, boy, how do you explain to your date that you switch bodies with anyone you kiss? Yeah, no thanks.

Well, it’s not like he has any experience in this field, anyway. Considering he’s never been on a date before and he certainly has no current prospects.

His abysmal love life aside—

“Looks like it’s gone for real,” he says gruffly, not meeting Mitsuki’s eyes. Even though he should be grateful for this development, now that he’s free of this weird, inconvenient power, he can’t help but feel like he’s lost something important.

“But…” Mitsuki trails off, bites at his lip. “Are you sure?”

Momo leans over Mitsuki’s shoulder and peers at him. “What, you don’t believe us? Do you wanna try it yourself?”

Mitsuki grimaces. “Not at all. Unlike you, I prefer not to kiss people so easily.”

“Whaaat?” Momo drawls, his mouth dropping open in mock surprise. “I’m just spreading the love, Mitsuki! You should try it some time, you know.”

“When I find someone I like, I’ll kiss them.”

“Don’t you like everyone?” Momo asks, resting his head on Mitsuki’s shoulder.

Mitsuki shakes his head furiously. “Not in that way!”

Momo hums and seems to take that as enough of an answer, but he doesn’t look happy about it. But he doesn’t keep arguing, probably because there’s not really a joke to play off with that kind of answer, and he pulls away from them, putting a reasonable amount of space between himself and Mitsuki.

“It’s really gone…” Gaku muses. His heart thumps in his chest and a wave of anxiety washes over him like a tsunami hitting a coastline, and he feels this is the exact opposite emotion he should be experiencing right now.

But this power was the only thing that led him to where he is right now. It’s the only reason he met Mitsuki, and as a result Momo and Iori, too. Without this power connecting them, they’ll likely go their separate ways.

Gaku sighs and runs a hand down his face. The bright side is that now he won’t have to worry about giving daily reports to Iori. The downside is that… they probably won’t meet up as much anymore. Maybe he can still invite them out for drinks occasionally, buy Iori some juice.

He liked them, too.

Momo mimics the sigh in a much more exaggerated manner, slumping his shoulders and hanging his head. “There goes my plans for next weekend.”

“What plans?” Gaku asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s starting to feel like he’s just here as a convenience for these people. He takes back all of his sentimentality from before.

“Oh, well I thought that if we got Yuki-san back from Nagi’s evil clutches, we could all play around with your power. I was thinking about a big party with all of our friends. It’d only be a little setup, but you might have to kiss a few kids to make it work so maybe that’s a little weird—”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Gaku cuts in, his head spinning from Momo’s ridiculous suggestion. What kind of party games involves switching bodies with several of their friends, anyway? Definitely not one he wants to play, even if he is the only person who can prompt that sort of thing.

“Yeah, now that your power is gone.” Mitsuki sounds about as disappointed as Gaku feels, and it eases up some of the weight on his shoulders to know he’s not alone in his illogical feelings. By all means, this should be a good thing, and yet.

And yet.

“Well, even if it’s gone, we can still hang out, right?” Momo asks, bouncing over to sling his arms around both Mitsuki’s and Gaku’s shoulders. “You can come to my sports club. The manager is smoking hot! Totally Yuki’s type.”

“I thought you were Yuki’s type,” Mitsuki asks, lifting a hand to his chin as he thinks.

“My tits aren’t big enough,” Momo laments sadly. “That’s why I work out so much. I have to stay in top shape to impress the love of my life!”

“He likes big-breasted women, then…” Gaku muses, not sure he even wanted to know this information in the first place. But, well, he has it now, and it’s likely that he won’t forget it any time soon, no matter how much he wants to.

Momo laughs loudly, squeezing Gaku’s shoulder tightly. “No, no! Ryuu is a guy. And he’s a total beast, if you know what I mean.”

The wink Momo gives both of them makes Gaku feel like he’s in way over his head with this guy.

Mitsuki nods along. “He is pretty sexy. You should swing by sometime, Yaotome.”

Gaku’s head spins as he tries to figure out how those two things are related. “Is this the club you were talking about?”

“I met Momo and Ryuu through it,” Mitsuki says by way of an answer, bumping his shoulder into Momo’s side. “It’s a great place to build a network.”

Gaku hums. It doesn’t sound like a bad offer, and it would let him keep in touch with them. “I don’t know the address.”

“I’ll message you!” Momo chirps, already whipping his phone out. The bright screen is the only illumination on the dark street.

Gaku chews at the inside of his lip as he fishes his own phone out, too. It’s better than nothing.

Chapter Text

It doesn’t take Gaku long to learn that things are very, very wrong.

The gym is bustling with buff men and women alike, all sparkling with sweat and breathing heavily.

He breathes in deeply, taking in the atmosphere. It’s calming.

He hasn’t been here in a while, at least not since college. It’s nice to have this familiar setting, away from stuffy office buildings and busy restaurants. He taps his fingers against his sweat shorts as he counts how long it’s been—a year? Maybe longer.

He slams the locker door shut and wraps a small towel around his neck, ready to face the gym head on. He doesn’t quite make it out of the locker room, though, before he hears his name called.

“Yaotome!”

Gaku whips his head around to see Mitsuki round the corner into the room, already drenched in sweat from head to toe. He looks like he’s been here a while, but his smile shows no sign of exertion. “Izumi.”

“I got your message that you were coming,” Mitsuki says, hurrying to close the gap between them even though his voice never gets quieter. It’d be hard to talk at a normal level, anyway, with all the exercise machines clanking and the TVs blaring and upbeat music playing overtop the cheering and announcers from various sports tournaments broadcasted on the screens.

Gaku shrugs. “I figured it’s been too long since I’ve been to a gym. Is Momo here?”

Mitsuki’s eyes go wide and his lips pull taught into a firm, grim line. “Momo-san is…”

He trails off when his focus shifts so that he’s looking behind Gaku, and though Gaku feels a sense of unease washing over him he turns to look anyway.

“Mitsuki! You in here?” Momo’s voice bounces off the thick walls of the locker room, quickly getting closer until dark hair peeks out from behind a wall, a sweat towel dangling precariously around his neck. His smile is bright and wide right up until he catches sight of Gaku; then his eyes go wide and his surprise shows itself easily on his face. “Gaku! You made it!”

“Momo is… different.” Mitsuki lowers his voice enough that Gaku barely hears it over the din of the gym.

“Momo-san,” Gaku greets easily. He lifts his hand politely and smiles back at him, noticing too late the way Momo is running at him.

And then he’s tackled against the wall of lockers, Momo’s cheek pressed into his shoulders as he hugs him. “I was waiting for you!”

Gaku looks over Momo’s head to see Mitsuki sidestepping away from them, as if to avoid this conversation entirely. “I—Momo-san, are you okay?”

Momo scoffs and pulls back, holding him tightly at arm’s length. His smile is sweet and almost shy, and he avoids Gaku’s firm gaze. “I got to thinking, Gaku. We don’t hang out all that much, you know? So when you said you were coming today, I got excited!”

“We’ve hung out plenty this past week,” Gaku counters. It’s reasonable, he thinks. They have spent almost all their free time together, trying to figure things out and testing the limits of Gaku’s power. So there’s really no reason for Momo to think something like this.

“I mean,” Momo clarifies, squeezing Gaku’s bicep with one hand and grazing his fingers up Gaku’s arm with his other until he pauses, featherlight touch against his collarbone, “just the two of us.”

Gaku clears his throat, but he still can’t breathe. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

“You know you’re super handsome.” Momo says this like it’s the most obvious fact. “So why wouldn’t you expect me to notice that?”

Gaku glances again toward Mitsuki, only to find him leaning against the opposite wall, far away and totally out of range if he needs rescuing. He looks back at Momo. “I don’t—”

Momo groans and sags forward, pressing up against Gaku in ways that have to have been on purpose. “You can’t be that stupid. You’re a total hottie! And definitely my type.”

“I thought,” Gaku starts, cutting himself off when his voice cracks. “I thought you and Yuki were, you know.”

“A thing?” Momo asks, finally blinking up at Gaku with wide, innocent eyes. “Not yet. And Yuki isn’t even here.”

Momo breathes out onto Gaku’s exposed skin, and it sends a chill down his spine.

“But you are.”

Gaku can’t breathe; Momo’s stolen the air from his lungs. And he’s moving closer, his eyes fluttering closed. It’s slow, like he’s giving Gaku a chance to retreat. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t, because there’s no reason not to. He’s not—he’s not into Momo. He’s only just found out that guys can kinda sorta be hot.

Maybe he doesn’t move because he knows that his power is gone, knows that nothing will come out of this kiss.

Momo’s breath is warm on his lips. He fists Gaku’s shirt, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet, holding Gaku in place. Not that Gaku would go anywhere.

And the kiss is slow, like a middle schooler’s clumsy attempt with his first crush. It’s nothing like the casual kisses from before, the short pecks that Momo would pepper along his lips to trigger the swap. This has feeling in it, enough to make Gaku’s knees weak and his head spin.

He reaches a feeble hand up to grab at Momo’s arm, as if he intends to push him away. He knows he won’t.

But they shouldn’t be doing this. It feels wrong, and the longer they stay in this position, Momo’s bangs tickling his nose and Momo’s chest pressed flush against his, the more Gaku feels like something is off.

Then Momo’s eyes snap open and he pushes away, wiping his mouth on his bare arm. He grunts, stumbling backward, and Mitsuki takes a step off the wall as if he intends to catch him if he falls.

“Wh—gh.” Momo shakes his head and wipes at his face with his sweat towel. “What the hell just happened?”

Mitsuki’s behind Momo now, hands hovering at his sides, ready to stabilize him if needed. “What’s going on, Momo-san?” His eyebrows are knitted together, a frown etched in a thin curve along his face.

“I just…” Momo stares at his feet, his towel still pressed against his face. His head snaps up and he looks Gaku straight in the eye. “Gaku. Kiss me again.”

“Again?” Gaku absolutely, totally does not squeak.

Momo nods, firm and resolute. He’s already stomping his way back toward Gaku, hands balled into fists, and when he corners him against the wall, leaving no escape route, he mashes his lips into Gaku’s and it’s rough and sudden and Gaku feels helpless to whatever the hell is happening.

The kiss softens halfway through, Momo’s arms falling off the wall to rest on Gaku’s shoulders, snaking around his neck, and he feels Momo shift as his foot pops into the air just slightly.

He pulls away breathlessly, dragging Gaku downward with his hands interlocked behind his neck, and his eyes are sparkling, his cheeks flushed. “I’m in love with you.”

“Huh?” Mitsuki shouts wordlessly, rushing over to the wall so he can properly stare at Momo with bulging, incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Momo giggles, and it’s soft and sweet and nothing like his demeanor before. “It’s—it’s him! He turns into a total ikemen!”

Mitsuki’s face strains. “Sure, Yaotome’s good looking, but where is this coming from?”

Gaku isn’t sure he can speak with Momo’s fingers running through his hair, tickling at his neck, so he’s grateful at least Mitsuki is asking the questions screaming in his mind.

“He made me fall in love with him!” Momo insists. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to clear his vision, but still his eyes keep trailing back to Gaku no matter how many times he tries to focus on Mitsuki. “It’s like magic. Or… or a new power.”

What.

“What?” Gaku’s breath hitches and his throat constricts. “A new power?”

Momo nods. He twirls a strand of Gaku’s hair around his finger. “Like your body swap power. But also completely different.”

Momo hums and brings one of his hands trailing down Gaku’s chest, stopping over his heart. He knows Momo can feel it pounding, threatening to burst, but he seems less interested in Gaku’s panic and more interested in Gaku himself.

“So what, his power changed?” Mitsuki asks, eyeing Gaku warily. There’s a warning etched along the planes of his face that tell Gaku to stay away, if this really is the new effect of his kisses.

“Feels so good…” Momo mutters, completely lost in Gaku’s pecs. Then he blushes furiously, buries his face in Gaku’s chest. “I mean, the power! That’s what feels… good…”

“So it’s a…” Mitsuki stares hard at the two of them and their current position: Momo’s hand in Gaku’s hair, face pressed into his t-shirt, one leg carefully slotted between Gaku’s, like he can’t possibly be close enough to him. “A charm power?”

Gaku holds his breath.

“I’m feeling pretty charmed right now,” Momo practically moans into Gaku.

“Look up,” Gaku demands. He needs to put a stop to… whatever this is, right now.

Momo whines, low and throaty, but he lifts his head reluctantly, as if he can’t bear to disobey him. Gaku’s skin crawls. He reasons with himself that he’ll figure this mess out later, when Momo’s head is clear and his leg isn’t rubbing up against his—

He cups Momo’s chin and brings his lips to his, and Momo can’t resist. His eyes fall closed and his shoulders tense and he looks like a character in a romance movie. His hair, sweaty from exertion, clings to his face, and Gaku closes the gap between them.

He doesn’t let it last longer than a moment, worried about what might happen if he indulges Momo’s infatuation.

And Momo falls away with a groan, pressing his hand to his forehead. “Why did you do that…” he mutters.

“Do what?” Gaku blinks. “Kiss you?”

“It felt so good,” Momo retorts, massaging his temple. “To be in love with you.”

Gaku huffs and crosses his arms across his chest. “Then fall in love with me naturally.”

“No can do.” Momo shakes his head. “My heart is dedicated to Yuki.”

Mitsuki stares between them. “Momo-san… was that really a power? You’re—you’re not actually in love with Yaotome, right?”

Momo’s eyes widen and he practically jumps away from Gaku. “Him? No! It was… that kiss. The kiss from last night, I think.”

“But you weren’t acting like… that, before,” Gaku says, hoping that there’s some kind of misunderstanding here. There has to be. He can’t have this charm power, or whatever Mitsuki had called it.

“A delayed power, then,” Mitsuki concludes. Momo nods along.

“It has to be. It was really strong.” Momo takes in a shaky breath, his face still pink as he tries to calm himself down. “Your body swap power must have changed.”

“But how?” Gaku practically yells, raking his fingers through his hair, the same spots Momo had just been playing with only moments before. “I don’t want this—this thing. I didn’t even want the swap power.”

“Now you really have to be careful about who you kiss,” Mitsuki says with a straight face, as casual as if he were talking about the weather. “That thing seems potent.”

“It’s amazing, though,” Momo says, shifting his weight. “You feel lighter and warmer, like it’s your first crush all over again. Just seeing you made my heart flutter.”

Gaku eyes Momo suspiciously. “But not anymore?”

“Not even a little.” Momo shakes his head for emphasis. “But I can still feel the effects, just a little. They’re fading but it’s like I want to have that connection to you again.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Mitsuki says. “Should we get Iori to test it again?”

“No!” Gaku says a little too quickly. “No. I don’t want to use this power at all.”

"Then what? We just sit around and wait for it to change again?” Mitsuki crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall next to Gaku. “We don’t even know that’s gonna happen.”

“It did last time.”

“We don’t know what caused it,” Mitsuki retorts. “Are you okay with never kissing anyone ever again?”

Gaku hesitates, subconsciously recalling the feel of Mitsuki’s and Momo’s lips on his, the warmth of their gentle touches as they got closer to him, the feeling of him melting as they connected in a way he’s never connected with anyone before.

“I think Gaku’s right,” Momo says slowly, carefully. “This power is dangerous. I was crushing so hard I don’t think I would have refused if you’d asked me to commit murder.”

“Like brainwashing?” Gaku asks.

“But with love as the catalyst,” Mitsuki finishes. “That’s dirty.”

“How did this even happen?” Gaku grabs his head in his hand and groans long and loud. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. He didn’t even get a chance to work out on these high-end exercise machines, but his limbs already feel heavy and fatigued, his breathing labored and his heart pounding.

“What’s going on over here?” The voice is new and unfamiliar as it approaches the locker room, and Gaku scrambles to collect himself. Mitsuki and Momo jump to attention too, wide-eyed and terrified at being caught. Any outsider who saw what they were doing would definitely get the wrong idea, and Gaku doesn’t want any weird labels slapped on any of them if they’re not at least true.

“Ryuu!” Momo gasps, sliding just far enough away that there’s an appropriate distance between him and Gaku. And then the so-called Ryuu peeks his head around to check on them, employee badge swinging from a lanyard around his neck, and Gaku stops thinking entirely.

The man is glistening, not with sweat but with some ethereal brightness that makes him glow. Like some Twilight vampire mixed with the literal sun, perhaps. His golden eyes are shining and his tan skin is taut over rippling muscles, and Gaku thinks that a man of his caliber can’t possibly exist in real life. And still he’s right there, even after Gaku blinks to clear the illusion.

“Mitsuki-kun! Momo-san!” Ryuu greets, and even his smile is blinding. “Is everything okay over here?”

“Just peachy!” Momo says, clapping a hand onto Gaku’s shoulder. “Ryuu, this is Gaku. He’s joining our club today!”

“Wait—I am?” Gaku asks, eyes bulging from his head.

“You are!” Momo agrees, nodding so fervently that his hair flounces around his face. “Gaku, this is our manager Ryuu. Wasn’t I right about him?”

Gaku swallows and clears his throat, not sure how to answer that. It feels as if Momo’s description of him was almost criminally underexaggerated. Hottie doesn’t even begin to describe Ryuu.

“How are things on your end?” Mitsuki asks, providing a much needed relief and pulling Ryuu’s attention and gaze away from Gaku. “We got caught up in… things, so we haven’t been paying attention.”

Ryuu scratches the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly, and even though he’s tall and handsome and tanned and sexy as hell, he looks boyish and innocent at the same time. Gaku wonders how that’s even possible, even while he’s looking at such a display right now. “One of the TVs broke, so I’m trying to find someone to fix it. I might just have to do it myself.”

Momo frowns. “Is it the new one that’s been giving us all sorts of trouble? I knew we shouldn’t have switched brands.”

Ryuu nods. “That’s the one. I’ll keep looking around, but I think all the maintenance staff has left for the day. I think I can get it working again, though.”

Mitsuki slaps Ryuu’s back and grins wide and cheeky. “Thanks, Tsunashi! We’ll go over and check it out too, but by the time we get over there you’ll probably have already fixed it.”

“Ryuu’s super reliable, after all,” Momo gushes, turning toward Gaku as if he’s expected to agree. He nods along.

“It was nice meeting you, Tsunashi,” Gaku says, bowing his head just a tad.

Ryuu bows back more deeply, but still casual. “You can call me Ryuu. There’s no need to be so formal!”

“Right, Ryuu,” Gaku amends. Ryuu flashes another smile that shakes Gaku to his core, and then he’s bounding away in long strides that draw attention to his thighs.

A few moments pass, and then Mitsuki lets out his breath and relaxes so suddenly that Gaku is sure he’s going to fall over. But he just leans into the wall, forehead pressed against it with his eyes closed as he groans. “That was close.”

“Ryuu almost caught us!” Momo says, hand covering his mouth like a physical barrier between his lips and Gaku’s.

“I don’t want him thinking I’m into voyeurism or whatever.” Mitsuki flips around so that he’s facing them. “Not that someone like Tsunashi would ever come to that kind of conclusion, but I don’t want to risk it.”

“We have to be more careful,” Momo agrees.

Mitsuki puts his hands on his hips. “It was your fault!”

“Technically it’s Gaku’s fault, since he’s the one with the freaky charm power. I was completely helpless!” Momo throws his hand up to his forehead and swoons, falling backwards. Gaku scrambles to catch him, grunting under the sudden weight.

“Well…” Mitsuki chews at his lip as he glances between them. “I guess you’re not wrong there. Yaotome, you better be careful with that power. It’s the kind of thing that can be easily abused.”

“It’s not like I go around kissing people all the time,” Gaku argues, pushing Momo back into an upright position.

“You’ve kissed me plenty,” Momo says, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not good to tell lies, you know!”

Gaku breathes out of his nose. “You know what I mean.”

“You guys know we’re in public, right?” Mitsuki asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t start a fight.”

Gaku huffs and looks away. Momo puts his hands on his hips.

“I feel like a middle-aged mother of six,” Mitsuki breathes out, running a hand down his face. “I hate you both.”

Momo snorts suddenly and bursts into a fit of laughter. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Everything’s fixed for now, isn’t it? So let’s enjoy the rest of our day. We came here to have fun!”

Gaku relaxes his shoulders and smiles softly, glad that at least for now, they’re putting his weird new power behind them. “I haven’t properly worked out in forever. Let’s go!”

“You two sure bounce back fast,” Mitsuki observes, a single eyebrow raised. “Well, it’s fine. Come on, Yaotome. I’ll show you around.”

Gaku tries to ignore the sense of unease growing in his stomach.

Chapter Text

Steam billows around Gaku’s face as he brings out a hot bowl of soba for a customer. He can feel sweat beading on his forehead, and he wants to reach up and wipe it away, but his arms are full of plates and he is unfortunately confined to the human experience of having two limbs. Four, if he counts his legs, but he’s definitely not flexible enough to reach his face with those and still keep the plates off the floor.

Whoever this customer is must be starving, he thinks, if he’s ordered so much food. Perhaps he’s never eaten in his life. Six meals, two appetizers, and three different drinks. He hasn’t even given up his dessert menu, and as he gets closer to the table he can see the customer’s nose buried deep within it.

He doesn’t even try to be politely quiet as he approaches, letting the plates clatter against each other to announce his presence. The customer jumps in surprise and lowers his menu, and Gaku nearly drops the food. Maybe he should have tried to wipe the sweat off his face anyway, if the food was gonna end up on the floor no matter what.

He barely manages to center himself before he loses total control of the dishes in his arms, and he hurriedly sets them out on the table before he even lets himself look at the customer again. Because it’s—it can’t be—

Gaku can see Nagi staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t dare turn his head to face him completely. He doesn’t know if he can. Not after last night.

“Yaotome-shi,” Nagi says, his voice carrying on his breath like a gentle breeze encircling Gaku, a chain that pins him down and refuses to let him move away.

Nagi’s entire demeanor has changed, in a way that Gaku can’t quite place. It’s feels like it’s been so long since then, but even so Gaku can conjure the memories as if they were happening in this moment. His stomach clenches.

But this Nagi is different, somehow. Maybe it’s because he’s no longer putting on a show, he’s no longer playing the role of a host. He’s just a normal guy in a cute plaid button-up and bowtie, his soft hair pinned back behind his ear and his blue eyes shining in the bright light of the soba shop.

It doesn’t make Gaku’s heart beat any less erratically.

“Rokuya,” Gaku greets, hoping that this can be the end of their interaction. If they continue, if Gaku is forced to stay here any longer, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to return.

“Will you sit?” Nagi gestures to his side first, then shakes his head and waves his hand toward the booth opposite of him.

Gaku is helpless to refuse; he slides into the booth, all the while cursing his weak will.

“What’s up?” he asks, trying to stay casual despite images of that night bombarding him. He’s looking at this softer Nagi who looks like the sun and talks in lilting phrases, but he feels the host Nagi’s lips on his, hands trailing up his chest as he struggles to breathe through his own desire.

He shifts in his seat.

Nagi closes his eyes and Gaku immediately misses them. “I have been looking for you.”

“You have?” Gaku tilts his head to the side. His heart thumps loudly in his ears.

“Since then, I…” Nagi trails off. Gaku blinks, and suddenly Nagi’s face is pink, his fingers playing with his lips. He looks shy, nothing like the Nagi he met at the club. Still, it’s familiar.

Gaku holds his breath, waiting for him to continue.

Nagi slams his hands down on the table, six untouched dishes clattering against each other. His eyes are like fire when he redirects his gaze at him again. “I don’t know what you did, but you must take responsibility for your actions.”

The angry frown on his face doesn’t suit him, is Gaku’s only thought.

“Responsibility? For what?”

“For using my power against me.” Nagi’s fingers curl on the wooden table, and the longer they stare at each other, the redder his face becomes. His eyes flicker to Gaku’s lips. “What did you do to me?”

Gaku’s heart clenches with anxiety. “I didn’t do anything to you!” he insists, pressing up against the back of the booth. He’s trapped, though; he can’t get away so easily. And though the way Nagi hungrily flicks his tongue along his lips sends Gaku’s fight or flight response into overdrive, he doesn’t want to move. He wants to stay here, watching the myriad emotions dance along Nagi’s perfect features.

“You did,” he says firmly, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Did you steal it?”

Gaku lets out a slow breath. “Steal what?”

“My power.”

There’s a conclusion to be made here, but Gaku can’t figure out what it is through the horny haze in his mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It must have been you, though,” Nagi says, slumping over a little. “Because since that night, you’re the only one on my mind.”

Heat springs to Gaku’s cheeks. “What?”

Nagi raises his chin and looks Gaku straight in the eye, unwavering and looking almost like a god with lamplight illuminating his blond hair from behind like a halo. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Gaku can’t breathe.

“And it’s your fault.”

Gaku frowns. “I know I’m good looking, but I can’t make you fall in love with me—”

Nagi leans over the table and grabs Gaku by his uniform collar. It’s not rough by any means; if anything, it’s gentle and hesitant, and even his glare doesn’t bear any heat. “Except you did just that. Because that is my power.”

Things are falling into place, but Gaku can’t think straight with Nagi this close to him. Every exhale tickles his nose. His breath smells like mint and chai.

“Your power…” Gaku repeats, his voice barely a murmur. Nagi’s fists are still clenched tightly around his collar, and they’re close. It’s too close. Gaku wants to pull away—he wants to get closer.

Nagi huffs and looks down, directly at Gaku’s lips. His hands tremble slightly.

And Gaku realizes where he’s seen this act before. “You’re acting just like Momo-san!”

Nagi pulls back, and the emptiness between them feels far greater than it actually is. “Momo-san…?”

“When I kissed him and my power changed,” Gaku explains carefully, reaching up and prying Nagi’s hands off of him. Desire or no, his mom will kill him if he stretches out his yukata. “Or… wait, you—?”

Nagi’s elbows land hard on the table, and he looks up at him. It’s helpless and open and vulnerable and Gaku wants to fix it, to bring back that confident Nagi he met a week ago. “Anyone I kiss falls in love with me. But I had no idea…”

Gaku hums, tries to take in everything even as he can’t possibly understand it.

“It feels so good,” Nagi finishes awkwardly. He’s no longer looking at Gaku, but rather at his hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Are you saying I…” Gaku struggles to remember what Mitsuki had called it. “I charmed you?”

Nagi flashes a wry smile, looking up through his lashes. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Then I just have to kiss you again to make you normal again, right?” He tries to pretend the thought of kissing Nagi doesn’t make his throat dry.

A few strands of hair fall loose from behind Nagi’s ear. “I wanted that. But now, seeing you…”

“Seeing me?”

“Is it so bad?” Nagi sounds like he’s talking more to himself than Gaku. “This feeling you gave me… I never knew my power could make someone so happy.”

Gaku shakes his head. “Rokuya, what are you going on about?”

Nagi turns the full force of his impossibly blue eyes toward him. “Please, let me stay like this. I have never experienced this feeling for myself, Yaotome-shi. But I don’t want to let it go. I came here to get you to reverse the spell. Even now I want to press your lips to mine, but I am sure. I don’t want these feelings to fade.”

There’s a beat of silence.

And then Gaku pulls Nagi’s chin upward to join their lips together. It’s so much different than their first time. There’s no passion or sparks flying like a summer festival’s fireworks show. There’s no heat or desperation. Nagi melts into him and reaches up, threading his fingers into Gaku’s hair and pulling himself closer until Gaku fears they might never be able to separate.

He doesn’t care that they’re in his family’s restaurant. A small voice in the back of his mind is relieved, though, that they’re in a secluded corner to the side where not many people will see them sucking face.

The kiss hardens suddenly; Nagi stiffens and pulls away, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. His eyebrows are drawn together and he looks disappointed, almost disgusted. Definitely not the expression Gaku would like to see after kissing someone, but he’ll cry over that later.

“Those feelings aren’t yours,” he says firmly, sliding back down in his seat. “I don’t want to rely on magic to have someone fall in love with me.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission,” Nagi retorts weakly, but he sinks back down as well, accepting his fate. “Do you expect me to thank you?”

“I’m not asking for anything except an explanation.”

Nagi clears his throat and straightens his posture, though his cheeks are still dusted with pink and he refuses to meet Gaku’s gaze. “I have the power to ‘charm,’ as you called it, anyone I kiss.”

“Then…”

“That power is not yours,” Nagi confirms. “You must have stolen it somehow.”

“When we kissed?” It seems obvious in hindsight.

“Yes. I kissed you, and then my own power backfired onto me. A traitor.” Nagi grimaces.

Gaku bites back a sigh of relief. “It’s not my power then.”

Nagi frowns, his eyes clear. The dishes lay between them, forgotten and cold. “I already said that.”

“I know that, but—” Gaku shakes his head. “It’s not my power!”

“I don’t understand. Explain yourself, Yaotome-shi.”

“If it’s not my power, that means I can kiss people again.” Even with his abysmal prospects, this development means that at least he can have a love life. He just has to get rid of the power somehow and then he’s free. He can date and live his life and he won’t even have to worry about something as stupid and nonsensical as magical powers that put people under a love spell with a kiss.

Nagi blinks slowly, once, twice, absentmindedly grazing his fingers against his lips. “I guess so.”

“How do I get rid of the power?” Gaku demands, leaning in so close that his yukata threatens to glide along the soba and get the clothing all dirty. “You know, right?”

“How did you get my power in the first place?” He smirks.

“With a kiss. Then…”

“Perhaps you are also like me,” Nagi says simply. “But your power is different.”

This doesn’t sound as positive as he was hoping. A pit of dread grows in his stomach. “What is it?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Nagi’s eyebrows drawn in and he shrugs, lips tugging down into a frown. “You copied my power for yourself. Did you not use it on this Mister Momo you mentioned earlier?”

“Well, yeah, but I was trying to switch bodies with him—” Gaku cuts himself off as everything sinks in. “I copy other people’s powers by kissing them.”

“I just said that.”

“Then swapping bodies wasn’t my power, after all.”

Nagi tilts his head and his hair falls into his eyes. “Swapping bodies?”

Gaku slams his hands on the table, fire in his eyes and finally on the right track. “If I don’t have the body swapping power, then it would have been the person I kissed.”

“Do you remember who that is?” Nagi asks, eyes wide as he hangs onto every word.

Gaku nods. “Of course. There’s no way I can forget.”

Chapter Text

Mitsuki groans and flops back on his bed, head accidentally falling into Nagi’s lap. “Argh! I thought I didn’t have to deal with this anymore!”

“Oh, but you were the catalyst,” Nagi says, smiling down at him. “And now you have brought us all together!”

“If I wanted some freaky superpower it definitely wouldn’t have been this,” Mitsuki complains.

“We still need to confirm that it’s true,” Iori says. “Yaotome-san, please kiss my brother.”

Mitsuki pushes himself up and watches Gaku warily, not moving any closer to him. “If you put me under any weird love spells I’m gonna kill you, got it?”

Gaku doesn’t doubt it.

“Got it.”

The world falls away as Gaku leans toward him. His leg is pressed against Mitsuki’s, their shoulders almost touching, and even though the bed is under them both he feels like they’re floating.

It’s been too long since he kissed Mitsuki, he realizes, and he finds himself having to relearn the way his lips taste, the rough, chapped texture as it brushes against him, the way he hesitates before plunging in head first.

It’s familiar and nostalgic and it feels nice, he realizes. He likes this feeling—the butterflies in his stomach, the soft touches, the lingering warmth. The way Mitsuki puts his hand over his and squeezes it like it’s a lifeline.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere that Gaku had almost forgotten but immediately recognizes, and he has to bite back a smile when he pulls away and opens his eyes to see himself staring at him. “It worked.”

“It’s true,” Mitsuki breathes. “It was me.”

“Then Nii-san can switch bodies with people,” Iori declares. “And Rokuya-san can charm people. Yaotome-san copies those powers and can use them freely until they’re overwritten with another power.”

“Oh, oh!” Momo shoots his hand up, and they all swivel to look at where he’s seated cross-legged on the floor. “What am I?”

“A normal human,” Iori says simply. “Nothing has happened when you kissed them, right?”

Momo’s face scrunches up. “Figures.”

“Oh, but Mister Momo, that makes you invaluable!” Nagi gushes, leaning forward onto his knees. “Because you are the only one we can test our power on!”

“Iori’s just a normal guy, too,” Momo points out. “Wait—you are, right?”

Iori holds up a hand to stop that train of thought. “I refuse to get involved in this, thank you.”

“See? You are the only one we can rely on.” Nagi’s smile is radiant, and Gaku almost wishes it were directed at him. He tries to shut down that thought as soon as it passes through his mind, but it stubbornly sticks.

“Huh, I guess that’s okay then!” Momo beams back at them, wide and toothy. “I’ll help you as much as I can!”

“Good thing,” Mitsuki grumbles. “I don’t want anyone else finding out about this.”

“Mitsuki’s just being a sourpuss because he can’t kiss people anymore,” Momo giggles. “All your effort trying to talk up Gaku was wasted, huh?”

“It feels different when it’s you being told you have a freaky supernatural power that prevents you from having a normal love life!” Mitsuki insists, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How do you think I feel?” Gaku asks. His shoulder brushes up against Mitsuki, and he remembers the way he clung to Gaku’s hand just minutes before. “If I hadn’t kissed you, I never would have been in this situation.”

“If you hadn’t kissed my brother, then you might have kissed someone with another power,” Iori reminds him.

“Iori’s a ray of sunshine as always,” Momo sing-songs. “Hey Nagi, you’re sure you didn’t kidnap my darling Yuki-san, right?”

“I have already answered your question, Mister Momo.” Nagi narrows his eyes at him.

Momo waves his hand in the air. “I know, I know, but say it again! I want to be absolutely sure.”

“I don’t even know who your darling Yuki is,” Nagi says slowly, as if speaking to a child. “And I have never kidnapped anyone in my life.”

“But you put lots of people under your spell to keep them coming back there.” Momo raises an eyebrow. “You know, I always wondered how there could be a wildly successful host club all the way out here in Hamamoto. But I guess it’s thanks to you.”

Nagi bristles with pride. “After I came here from Northmare last year, a friend asked me for financial support to open a bar here. Then she asked me to work there, and it turned into a host club before I knew it.”

“The untold story of Hamamoto’s out-of-place host club,” Mitsuki mumbles.

“So it wasn’t even a host club to start with?” Momo gasps, leaning in as he listens. “Now that I think about it, I didn’t even hear about it until it became stupidly popular at the end of the year. That was your doing?”

Nagi nods fervently, eyes sparkling brightly. “Yes!”

Momo narrows his eyes. “Pretty shady business you’ve got going there.”

Nagi turns away, nose turned up. “I have never hurt anyone. And I have never received a bad review, either.”

“It’s not their choice, though.” Mitsuki’s cheeks puff out and he stares hard at Nagi.

“I am beautiful,” is Nagi’s response. Mitsuki groans loudly and falls into Gaku’s shoulder. “It is inevitable that people would fall in love with me.”

“You know, I admire that confidence,” Momo says from below. “Share some with me too, Nagi!”

Nagi smirks. “Shall I kiss you then?”

To Gaku’s surprise, Momo lights up at the prospect, but he frowns when he catches Gaku’s disbelieving look. “You don’t know what it feels like. Only Nagi and I understand how good it feels!”

“No one’s kissing anyone!” Mitsuki exclaims, bringing his fist down onto Gaku’s leg.

“But nii-san,” Iori says gently. “You still haven’t switched back with Yaotome-san.”

Mitsuki freezes and looks down at himself. “R–right.”

“Do you enjoy being tall, Mitsuki?” Nagi asks innocently, but his eyes are filled with wicked delight.

Mitsuki huffs out his nose. “Don’t you start with me. I get enough flack from these two.” He gestured pointedly toward Gaku and Momo.

“Let’s just switch back,” Gaku suggests before things can heat up any more. “It’s not like I particularly like being in someone else’s body.”

“My body is just fine, thank you very much,” Mitsuki insists, but he tucks white hair behind his ears and leans down to close the gap between them, not wasting any time getting back to normal.

Soft lips become chapped as they switch places, and Gaku’s eyes open to see a shock of orange hair. “So I should have the body swap power now, right?”

“Probably,” Iori says. “Nii-san’s power should have overwritten Rokuya-san’s charm power.”

Gaku breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”

“Oh, but that power is still mine,” Nagi says. “There is no way to get rid of it.”

Mitsuki swivels to face him. “You don’t want your power?”

Nagi’s face scrunches up. “I discovered this power last year. It was a few weeks after my first and only friend died. I think he was the only person who ever truly loved me.”

Iori sighs, but it’s softer, less harsh. “What has that got to do with nii-san’s question?”

“This power is my punishment,” Nagi continues seriously. “For not saving Haruki. And for pushing away anyone who has had the misfortune of loving me.”

Gaku’s throat closes up as he considers the ramifications of what Nagi’s saying.

“That’s… kinda heavy. And here I thought you were just some kinda playboy,” Mitsuki grumbles. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck sheepishly, then lets himself fall backward onto the bed with a dull thud. “Sorry for assuming things.

“No problem,” Nagi says, and Gaku has to grapple with the sudden English before he can understand him. Nagi’s spell of solemnity seems to be lifted, and an easy smile has settled back onto his face, brightening his features until they’re so blindingly beautiful that Gaku has to look away.

“But everything’s back to normal now, right?” Momo asks, not to anyone in particular.

“If having supernatural powers that activate with a kiss is what you consider normal, then yes.” Iori nods. Mitsuki peers down his nose at him.

“Iori’s so lucky,” he laments, throwing his arm up over his face. “He could find the love of his life tomorrow and not think twice about kissing them.”

Iori clears his throat and looks away. “This isn’t about me.”

“Oh! Iori, do you have a crush on someone?” Nagi leans over, wide eyes sparkling bright. “Who is the apple of your eye, hm?”

Iori’s face is red now. “I said this isn’t about me!”

Nagi smirks. “You know, I am an expert at romance. If you need advice, I will help you.”

“I will absolutely not do that.” Iori keeps his face carefully hidden. “Thank you for your offer, Rokuya-san.”

“Ah, young love,” Momo laments. “You kids don’t have a care in the world, do they?”

“Right.” Iori clears his throat and when he looks back at them, his cheeks are still pink. “Momo-san, what happened the night that Yuki went missing?”

Momo taps a finger on his chin in exaggerated movements. “Let’s see… I was planning to confess to him that night, so I went to his apartment. Everything’s kinda fuzzy from there, but I know I made it to his place because he told me he was going to see Nagi later.”

“Oh, me?” Nagi asks, throwing up his hands. His eyes are wide and clear as he frowns down at Momo. “But why?”

“You’re a host, aren’t you?” Momo asks as if that explains everything. Nagi nods knowingly, though, so apparently it really does answer the question. “But it looks like he never made it to your club.”

Nagi shakes his head. “I do not know anyone by that name.”

“Maybe a picture would help?” Mitsuki suggests. He makes grabby hands at Momo, who instinctively pulls out his phone and hands it over. It’s covered in a hot pink case shaped like a bear, and Gaku can’t help but think it’s cute. Mitsuki pays no mind to the bulky case even though it barely fits in his hand, and he begins scrolling through the phone, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates.

“You know his password?” Gaku asks, peering over his shoulder.

“Of course I do,” Mitsuki says. “It’s just his birthday.”

Momo sticks his tongue out at them. “It’s a good password. Easy to remember.”

“And easy to figure out,” Mitsuki counters without looking up. “Got it!”

He turns the phone around and shows off a heavily edited picture of Momo and some other man who Gaku assumes to be Yuki. His hair is long and silver and his eyes shine with a joke only he knows. He’s absolutely stunning; Gaku can see just why Momo is so into him.

“I know him,” Nagi says with a firm nod. “He’s a regular.”

Momo sucks in a breath and Mitsuki breathes out a whistle.

“When did you last see him?” Momo asks, leaning in subconsciously. “Is he there?”

“No, he has not come recently. He stopped coming a few months ago.” Nagi looks down at the photo again.

“That’s when we first started dating…” Momo breathes deeply in a few beats of silence. Then his mouth twists upward and tears spring to his eyes. “Oh, darling, he really does love me!”

“I thought you were going to confess,” Gaku points out. “But you’re already dating?”

Momo rolls his eyes. “We were going to make it official, Gaku.”

“How romantic.” Nagi sighs and leans back against the wall, a soft smile on his lips. “Please Mister Momo, let me live vicariously through your romance with Mister Yuki.”

“I will, Nagi. I’ll keep you updated on everything,” Momo promises, holding his hand to his heart. But his face scrunches up and he frowns deeply. “If we find him!”

“We don’t have any other leads,” Iori says, tapping a pen against his notebook. “Perhaps we could come up with some if you all would stop getting off track.”

“Iori, you’re too serious.” Mitsuki giggles and Gaku’s stomach flips. “It’s fine, it’s fine!”

“A missing person is not fine, nii-san,” Iori insists.

“We could ask Ryuu,” Momo suggests, biting his lip. “Yuki-san has a huge crush on him, so maybe he would know.”

“Ryuu? the manager at your gym?” Gaku asks. His head pounds trying to consolidate the complicated relationship that seems to exist between Yuki and Momo, but he tries to push it away because he’s absolutely certain he won’t be able to understand it no matter how much he tries.

Mitsuki nods. “Yuki-san comes by sometimes to drop off vegetables for him.”

“He’s so generous.” Momo’s smile is a hundred watts.

“If they have that sort of relationship, then he might know something,” Nagi says, jerking back upright and bringing his hands down onto his knees. “Shall we go?”

“I still think we should just report this to the police,” Iori grumbles.

Momo dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. “There’s no time for that. The cops are incompetent.”

Gaku has no idea what to say to that, but he finds himself nodding anyway. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Ryuu has four basketballs balanced precariously in his arms when he turns around, that same blinding smile still on his face. Gaku wonders if it’s even possible for him to frown.

“Ryuu!” Momo cries, sprinting toward him at full speed. Gaku wants to look away from the impending disaster, but it’s like watching a car crash: horrific, but still morbidly captivating.

Ryuu’s eyes widen as if in slow motion, his smile dropping as his mouth falls open, and the balls spill from his arms as he throws them out to catch Momo, whose strong legs carry him into a leap toward Ryuu. The impact causes Ryuu to stumble backward into the wall of the equipment room, his arms wrapping tightly around Momo’s back to keep him from falling. The balls bounce almost sadly away from the scene.

“M–Momo-san!” Ryuu gasps, his shiny brown hair flouncing ethereally as he readjusts his hold on him. “How are you?”

“Ryuu, I need your help.” Momo’s tone is serious despite the way he clings to Ryuu, his legs hooked around his waist and his hands coming up to press into both of Ryuu’s cheeks, squishing his mouth into a pucker. “Please say yes.”

“Yes,” Ryuu attempts, but it comes out garbled. “Can I put you down?”

Or at least, that’s what Gaku thinks he says. Momo must think that, too, because he nods and releases his vice-like grip on Ryuu, sliding off of him and to the floor.

“Momo-chan’s so worried!” he says, staring up at Ryuu with the full force of cutesy puppy dog eyes. “Yuki-san’s been missing for over a week now!”

Ryuu’s eyebrows pull in, and he reaches up to scratch at his neck. “Missing? That doesn’t sound right.”

“He’s not at home, and I haven’t seen him since. He won’t answer my calls, either!” Momo digs in his pocket to reveal his phone, showing off the dozens of unanswered phone calls to Yuki. “Have you seen him?”

“He…” Ryuu runs his hand through his hair and picks at his sweaty gym shirt with the other, airing himself out. “He came by last Thursday to drop off some vegetables again, just like he does every week. He told me he was coming by again today.”

“Eh?!” Momo exclaims, sinking into Ryuu’s hard muscles as his legs give out. “Has he really given up on me, then?”

Ryuu reaches around with his arm and pats Momo on the shoulder. “Momo-san, I don’t think he’s given up on you. I’m sure he still loves you very much. Are you sure you haven’t heard from him?”

“Absolutely!” Momo nods his head like it’s a Shake Weight™ when someone is desperately trying to build up their muscles before a date with their crush of six long, painful years.

“Is he ignoring Momo-san, then?” Mitsuki muses under his breath. Gaku hums along. “That doesn’t make any sense, though. They’re glued at the hip.”

Momo breathes out a heavy sigh, straightening himself so that Ryuu can finally gather his bearings. His face is grim, his lips pursed in a thin line. “Has he finally gotten sick of me?”

“M–Momo-san, I don’t think that’s right!” Ryuu throws up both hands to clasp them on Momo’s shoulders, his smile forced and pitying. “Yuki-san loves you, remember?”

“It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this to happen,” Momo says, his tone carefully impassive even as he hides his face from them. “He probably just got bored of me.”

“Momo-san,” Mitsuki says, cutting through the depressed atmosphere Momo radiates. “That can’t be true. You guys have been partners for as long as I’ve known you. There’s gotta be another reason for this.”

“He’s avoiding me because Yuki-san is too kind to tell me to go away,” Momo concludes, his brow drawing in.

“Maybe he’s not avoiding you,” Gaku suggests. Momo eyes him disbelievingly. “I mean, what if there’s another reason he can’t talk to you right now?”

“Maybe he got himself into trouble and he’s trying to protect you,” Mitsuki suggests.

Ryuu nods seriously. “Yuki-san did look troubled when I saw him.”

Momo balks at the implications, face draining of color. “My darling’s in danger!”

Gaku throws his hands up in a desperate attempt to calm Momo down. “I doubt it’s anything like that!”

“Then what if it’s that?” Mitsuki asks, nudging Gaku in the side. Gaku looks down to see the gears turning in Mitsuki’s head, and finally Gaku understands.

“You mean a powe—?” Gaku is cut off when Mitsuki slaps his hand over Gaku’s mouth.

“Shut up!” he commands, and Gaku nods, wide eyed.

“Huh?” Ryuu turns toward them, blinking slowly. “Power?”

Mitsuki takes his hand off Gaku’s mouth only to drag it down his face with a loud groan. “Now you’ve done it.”

Momo narrows his eyes. “Are you saying one of you made Yuki-san disappear?”

“No, nothing like that!” Gaku blurts out.

“What are you talking about?” Ryuu asks, and Mitsuki groans again.

“I didn’t want anyone to find out…”

“There’s no way that wouldn’t happen,” Gaku says, trying to reassure him with a pat on his back. “If it’s a part of you then you shouldn’t try to hide it, anyway.”

Mitsuki glares up at him through his eyelashes, but there’s no real heat in his eyes. “That kind of advice should be reserved for hobbies and interests, not freaky magic that I don’t even want.”

“Magic?” Ryuu repeats. “You don’t mean…”

All three of them turn toward Ryuu.

“Are you talking about witches?”

The question is simple, but it inspires an unnamable reaction in Gaku’s gut. It’s complex and it roils with all the strength of a tsunami, like his greatest secret has just been found out, but it was a secret that he’s wanted to shout out for as long as he’s breathed.

“Witches?” Momo asks with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“Witches! I mean, the people with special powers—” Ryuu shakes his head and seems to shrink in on himself. “Uh, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Special powers…” Mitsuki mutters under his breath. “Like switching bodies or charming people?”

Ryuu whips his head toward him, jaw slack and mouth hanging open. “Exactly! Then… you guys know about the witches?”

Mitsuki crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “If that’s what they’re called, then yes.”

“Mitsuki and Gaku have powers like that,” Momo says, pointing at both of them like he’s accusing them of a crime.

Ryuu’s eyes look him over. Gaku feels too self-conscious under his scrutiny.

“I’m just a normal person,” Momo asserts, puffing out his chest.

“Ryuu,” Gaku says, planting his feet firmly on the ground. “Are you one of them?”

Ryuu smiles weakly and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Not exactly…”

“Not exactly?”

“Well, I have a power, but it’s not… mine.” Ryuu’s face tinges pink and he refuses to meet any of their eyes. “It’s a friend’s.”

Mitsuki watches Ryuu carefully, waiting for him to continue. Gaku holds his breath.

“It’s—it’s not what you think!” Ryuu puts up his hands as if he’s been caught red-handed committing a crime. A bead of sweat drips down his face. “We weren’t like that, not really. He was hurting because of his power and I offered to take it.”

“Take it?” Momo repeats, mouthing the words slowly as if tasting them. “You can do that?”

“I’m, uh, it’s called a witch killer,” Ryuu explains clumsily, tripping over his words and grimacing at the title he gives himself. “I can steal powers for myself.”

“Then what did you take from him?” Mitsuki asks. He takes a step back, but he doesn’t seem to realize it himself.

Ryuu scratches at his arm. “He saw people’s past trauma. It was too painful for him, so I wanted to help.”

“Scary,” Momo says. “How many people’s pasts have you seen, then?”

Ryuu closes his eyes and bites his lip. “Just his. I haven’t kissed anyone since then.”

“Suddenly I feel silly for not liking my power,” Mitsuki mumbles. It’s too low for Ryuu to hear, but Gaku tilts his head down to see Mitsuki’s arms crossed over his chest, closing himself off. Then he clears his throat and speaks up. “So what, there are two types of powers then?”

Ryuu nods. “I guess so. Witches and witch killers. I don’t have any power myself, just the ones I steal.”

Mitsuki nudges Gaku’s side. “Sounds like you.”

“Me?” He points at himself. Ryuu’s head falls to the side in a question and Gaku elaborates. “I can copy powers.”

“Then if I kissed you, nothing would happen, right?” Ryuu’s expression is innocent and almost hopeful, and his tongue pokes out just a little as he licks his lips. “Because we’re the same.”

“Is that how it works for—for witches, too?” Mitsuki says, stumbling over the new word. “That’s what we are, right? Witches?”

“You and Nagi,” Momo nods. “You must be.”

“So there are more of us.” Mitsuki breathes out as if he’s trying to steady himself. “How many?”

Ryuu counts on his fingers and holds them up. “Seven.”

“In the world?” Momo slumps back against the wall. “That’s impossible.”

“No no, just in this town.” Ryuu taps his fingers together. “It’s an old folktale about Hamamoto. My dad once told me and my brothers about it a lot when we were younger.”

“I think I’ve heard about something like that before.” Momo taps his finger on his chin. “I didn’t think it was real, though.”

“Most people probably think it’s just some old fisherman’s tale. That’s how my dad learned the stories, anyway. He’d hear about them from the other guys while they were out at sea, and then he’d tell us everything when he came home.” Ryuu smiles, but it looks forced. “I never believed it, or thought I would be one of them, until I met my friend.”

The air seems to stir around them even though they’re in a storage room in the middle of Momo’s gym, and suddenly there are footsteps echoing in the court outside the closet.

Mitsuki puts his finger to his lips, gripping Gaku’s arm with his other hand. “Sh! Someone’s coming.”

“Huh?” Momo spins around, looking around him. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Ryuu,” a voice drawls. It’s lazy and demanding at the same time, and Gaku tries to melt into the wall because somehow Mitsuki’s strong grip on him makes him not want to be found out, either. “Are you in here?”

“See?” Ryuu smiles down at Momo, who frowns. “He said he was coming by today.”

“Who?” Momo asks. His frown deepens and he bites his lip. “What’s going on?”

“Yuki-san, I’m in here!” Ryuu leans out of the room, knocking a forgotten basketball to the side and sending it rolling through the door for some unsuspecting person to slip on later. He grips at the metal doorframe and waves wildly, beckoning him closer. His smile is bright.

“Yuki-san?” Momo gapes, almost jumping out of his skin. “Yuki’s here?”

“Didn’t you hear him, Momo-san?” Mitsuki asks. “You’re not that much older than us.”

“Huh?” Momo tugs at his earlobe and peers out the door. Gaku chances a look, himself, and nearly balks at the newcomer’s beauty.

The picture Mitsuki had shown them didn’t do him justice.

Yuki smirks and lifts his hand in a simple greeting. “I was a little late.”

“I'm here, just like always,” Ryuu chuckles.

Yuki holds out a bag filled with green vegetables for Ryuu to take. “They just ripened.”

“Thanks.” Ryuu smiles and gestures to Momo beside him. “Momo’s here, too. He's been missing you.”

Momo’s eyes dart around unseeing. Yuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, clenching his hands into fists.

“I have to go.”

“What are you guys even talking about?” Momo hisses, his eyes narrowed. His hair falls into his eyes, somehow dangerously. “Where’s Yuki?”

Gaku freezes. “He’s right there.”

“You’re lying, right?” Momo’s voice waivers slightly. “What does that mean?”

“Momo-san…” Ryuu looks between them. “Can you not see Yuki-san?”

“I’m not blind, if that’s what you're asking.” Momo frowns. “I have twenty-twenty vision.”

Ryuu shakes his head. “That’s not what I'm asking. I mean, is he invisible to you?”

Momo stops short, his mouth open in a forgotten retort. “What?”

“Then we were right,” Mitsuki says, looking Yuki up and down. “It’s a witch power.”

“A what,” Yuki says blandly, shifting his weight to one leg.

“Yuki-san,” Ryuu starts gently, “have you been avoiding Momo-san?”

Yuki scoffs. He looks away and crosses his arms over his chest. “Obviously not.”

“Yuki-san,” Ryuu prods gently. “Why are you avoiding Momo-san?”

Somehow, the way Ryuu rephrases the question seems to get to Yuki. He hums soft and low and then drops his arms with a huff, staring with wide, exasperated eyes at Momo. “Momo’s the one ignoring me!”

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Momo demands, stomping his foot so hard on the court that it echoes throughout the empty court. “Where is Yuki?”

“See? He’s even doing it now.” Yuki points accusingly at Momo and frowns. “Ever since he came over.”

“Since he came over?” Mitsuki asks. “What happened then?”

Yuki bites his lip. “I kissed him and he left. And he’s been ignoring me since.”

Ryuu groans loudly, leaning back against the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose. A deep frown etches itself onto his face. “This is a mess.”

“What is it?” Gaku asks, leaning in just slightly to get a better view of Yuki. Momo’s still fuming next to him, turning between the three of them as if they’ll make any effort to explain the situation they barely understand themselves. “It’s a witch power, right?”

“One of the witches can hide themselves from people,” Ryuu says simply. “They can turn invisible by kissing someone.”

“Oh,” Mitsuki breathes. “Oh, I get it.”

“Invisible…?” Yuki asks, an oppressive aura suddenly surrounding him.

“Invisible?” Momo thrusts his arms forward and moves them through the air as if feeling for something that doesn’t exist. “Yuki’s invisible?”

“So then, if they kiss again they should go back to normal, right?” Mitsuki asks. Momo stops short and whips his head around toward Ryuu, his face hopeful.

Ryuu nods. “Yuki-san, please kiss Momo-san.”

“But—”

Gaku cuts off whatever excuse Yuki had come up with. “Kiss him.”

Yuki frowns and glares at him, but he takes a few hesitant steps toward Momo until they’re standing toe to toe. Momo stares through him, completely unseeing and unaware of the person before him. He holds his breath.

And then Yuki leans forward and presses his lips to Momo, eyes closed and long silver hair covering both of their faces.

Momo gasps and pulls away, slapping his fingers over his lips. His eyes suddenly focus and widen, finally seeing Yuki after all this time. “Yuki!”

Yuki barely has time to brace himself before Momo launches himself at him. “M–Momo…”

“Was that it? Were you just invisible? Why didn’t you tell me!” Momo scolds, punctuating each syllable with another tap on Yuki’s nose. Their faces are close, almost touching, and so bright as they stare at each other as if they’re the only ones in the room. Perhaps to them, they are.

“I thought you were ignoring me,” Yuki says with a frown. “But it was me.”

“I didn’t know you were a witch!” Momo puffs out his cheeks. “You should tell me these things.”

Yuki’s eyebrows pull in. “What’s a witch?”

“You have magic powers,” Momo explains. “But then… then does that mean I can’t kiss you anymore?” He turns desperately to Ryuu, distress marking lines across his forehead.

“If it’s a witch power, then Yuki-san will become invisible every time you kiss,” Ryuu says with a curt nod.

Yuki makes a strangled sound. “What’s that supposed to mean? How do I get rid of that?”

“You wanna kiss him that badly, huh…” Mitsuki mutters under his breath.

“Ryuu,” Gaku says. Ryuu jerks in surprise. “You can take a witch’s power, right?”

“Right!” Momo says, unlatching himself from Yuki and bounding over to where Ryuu is. “Ryuu, you can fix this!”

“Huh?” Ryuu jerks backward, limbs flying as he scrambles away from them. “But—”

“Please Ryuu!” Momo begs. “Steal his power.”

Ryuu hesitates, glancing between Momo and Yuki before finally turning his gaze down at his own feet. “If I take Yuki-san’s power, a new witch will be born. And with that power…”

Mitsuki grips at his gym shorts. “A new witch?”

“Witch powers can’t be erased, only transferred,” Ryuu explains.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Yuki asks.

Momo’s eyes bulge a little. “Yuki!”

“Momo, if I have some kind of magic power, then I can never kiss you again,” Yuki reasons, and Gaku can almost see Momo’s heart breaking. “And just when I thought we would finally start dating…”

Momo bites his lip as he considers things. “Ryuu, there’s gotta be something you can do, isn’t there?”

Ryuu looks between them all, running his hand up and down his arm as he considers. He bites his lip, looks at Yuki, then at Momo. “All right,” he finally says.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Mitsuki asks, brow raised in doubt.

“Of course not!” Ryuu exclaims, throwing his arms out. “But I can’t just say no. Especially since I’m their only hope, right?”

“Right.” Yuki steps forward and Momo fiddles with his fingers as he watches them, unblinking. Despite his pleading, he frowns now, like he’s jealous. He probably is.

Yuki is rough as he leans in, almost desperate to kiss Ryuu. And though Ryuu steps back in shock, he’s not quite fast enough, and Yuki catches his chin and holds him still as they lock lips. Gaku feels like he’s invading, watching in on an intimately private moment meant only for those two, and then he shakes his head as he realizes that this kiss likely means nothing for them—it’s purely business.

Just like all of this kisses Gaku has shared up until now. It’s just business, a practical way to get what they want.

When Yuki pulls away, it looks like nothing has happened. He’s still the same person standing before them. There’s no magical sparkles or indication that the power has been stolen. Everything is unbearably normal.

“Did it work?” he finds himself saying. He presses his hand to his mouth a moment later, realizing he let his thoughts slip. Mitsuki next to him elbows him in the gut, but it’s not hard or even particularly angry.

Ryuu shakes his head of his daze and blinks a few times. “It had to. That’s my power, after all.”

“Yuki,” Momo says, fumbling with the hem of his gym shorts. “Is it really gone?”

“I don’t feel different.” Yuki looks back at Ryuu, who shrugs. “Do you want to test it?”

Momo jumps, his face turning red. “B–but!”

Yuki steps closer to him. “You worked up the nerve before, didn’t you? Then let’s try it again.”

A thousand emotions cross over Momo’s face like a particularly poignant training montage in a sports movie. “But if it doesn’t work, then…”

“Then I’ll kiss you again, and you’ll be able to see me.” Yuki is toe to toe with Momo now. He sweeps his long hair over his shoulder and leans in slowly enough that Momo has a chance to reject him. It’s a stark contrast to his kiss with Ryuu.

“I think I’d have a heart attack if you kissed me twice,” Momo mumbles, but he doesn’t move away. His eyes flutter closed.

The kiss is brief, but it’s enough of an impact for a jolt to run through Momo, his posture going rigid as Yuki places his hands on both of Momo’s shoulders. And when Yuki pulls away, Momo opens his eyes and finds Yuki’s face right away.

“Can you see me?” Yuki asks, running his thumb across Momo’s jawline. Gaku wants to look away, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

“Yuki…” Momo reaches out and grabs at Yuki’s wrists, holding them tight as if to ground himself. “You’re not invisible!”

Ryuu chuckles weakly behind them, and Gaku looks over to see him frowning. It looks far too out of place on such a beautiful face, but it fits perfectly with their situation.

“Congratulations, you two,” Ryuu says, leaning down to pick up a stray basketball. “I’m sure you’ll both be happy from here on out.”

“We will be,” Yuki says as he throws an arm around Momo. He holds out the bag of vegetables in his other hand toward Ryuu. “It’s thanks to you, Ryuu. Here, take the vegetables. They’re on the house today.”

Ryuu flushes just a little as he accepts the bag. “Thank you, Yuki-san. I think.”

“Thank you, Ryuu!” Momo gushes, pulling on Yuki just enough that he can see over his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do if I could never see my darling’s face again.”

“That’s not entirely how it works,” Ryuu protests, his mouth quivering up into a smile, “but I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Hey,” Mitsuki says, jabbing Gaku again. It’s lighter this time, more hesitant. Gaku glances down to find Mitsuki chewing nervously at his lip.

“What’s wrong, Izumi?” Gaku asks. He follows his gaze back toward Yuki and Momo, who seem far too caught up in their own celebration to notice anything else around them.

“Was this the right decision?” Mitsuki asks. “I feel like this is gonna come back to bite us in the ass later.”

Gaku pauses to think. “We’ll just deal with whatever happens when it arrives. Right?”

Mitsuki nods. “I hope you’re right.”

He hopes so, too.

Chapter Text

A week later, and Gaku regrets listening to Yuki’s request.

Sure, he sounded desperate over the phone before, but now as he stands in this stranger’s apartment, trying his best to step over the piles of haphazardly discarded dishes and dirty laundry, he realizes he doesn’t care how much Yuki needed him.

“But I’m worried about him—” Yeah, and Gaku’s worried about all the diseases he’s going to leave with. Seriously, has this guy ever touched soap before?

Actually, he doesn’t want to know the answer to that.

“Nikaidou,” he calls into the endless filth of an apartment. “My name’s Yaotome Gaku. Your friend asked me to come over.”

A sudden clatter has Gaku jumping nearly out of his skin, his heart racing faster than when he first laid eyes on Nagi. A low grumble and a slurred curse come tumbling down after, and Gaku pokes his head around a corner to see a very disheveled man lying on his back against a sofa, legs in the air and glasses askew.

Gaku appraises him for a moment more before skirting around the garbage to help him up. “Are you all right?”

“I didn’t think you were coming today,” Yamato says, pressing his hand to his head and groaning. “I would have picked up a little.”

Gaku gets the suspicion that his idea of picking up isn’t quite to any normal person’s standard.

“Did Yuki-san tell you I was coming over?” Gaku guesses, holding out a hand for him. Yamato takes it gratefully and pulls on Gaku’s arm to right himself, flipping his legs around so that he’s sitting upright on the floor.

“Of course not.” Yamato scoffs and snatches his hand back, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That guy never tells me anything. Thinks it’s funnier that way.”

“But you knew I was coming,” Gaku points out.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” Yamato says, pushing himself up with a loud, strained grunt. “Want one?”

Gaku can smell the alcohol on him, but he’s not sure if he’s in a position to criticize him quite yet. Not when he’s literally just met the man for the first time. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Yamato shrugs and doesn’t look back as he climbs over his piles to the refrigerator. The door opens with a pop and a hum, the light illuminating his face and creating a glare on his glasses. He pulls out a can and pops the tab, tipping it back with his head and gulping down probably half of it before finally glancing back toward Gaku.

“Are you drunk?” Gaku asks, wrinkling his nose.

Yamato laughs and leans back against the refrigerator door, still open and spilling out chilled air. “It’s the best way to be, right?”

Gaku grimaces. “Yuki-san didn’t tell me you were going to be like this.”

“I don’t see why not,” Yamato slurs, taking another sip of his beer. “That guy has no sense of boundaries. I figured you’d know everything about me by now.”

“Maybe he thought it’d be funny for me to go in blind.” Gaku glares down at Yamato, who doesn’t acknowledge him. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Obviously,” Yamato answers, tossing his can to the side. It bounces once and lands neatly atop a pile of trash. “I know everything about you. Yaotome Gaku, a part-time worker at his family’s soba shop with no other job prospects despite graduating college. A hopeless romantic who’s never even been on a date. The pigheaded son of divorced parents and an estranged father who fucked off to who-knows-where.”

Gaku grits his teeth and leans forward, balling his fist as if he’s even close enough to punch the guy into next week. “Don’t talk about me like you—”

“And,” Yamato adds, finally staring at him over the rims of his glasses, “a witch killer.”

Gaku freezes, his blood running cold. “How do you know that?”

“I told you. I know everything about you.” Yamato smirks and rolls away from the fridge, pushing the door closed with a flick of his wrist.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Gaku says. “Are you some kind of stalker?”

Yamato laughs, hearty and genuine, as he pushes himself to his feet. He wobbles for a moment and Gaku instinctively takes a step closer to catch him if he falls, but Yamato puts a hand on the wall to steady himself and stares Gaku down like it’s some kind of challenge. “Hey, Yaotome.”

“What?” Gaku meets his sharp gaze, suddenly not wanting to back down.

“You wanna know how I know you?” Yamato asks, his voice suddenly quiet. His stare softens, if only a little, and he takes a shaky step forward toward Gaku.

Gaku leans back, but he’s not fast enough. “H–hey, what are you—?”

“You won’t believe me otherwise.” Yamato grabs the front of Gaku’s shirt in his fist and pulls him down to his level.

Their lips mash together in his desperation, and the world around Gaku disappears.

He jerks violently as overhead fluorescent lights flicker in time with the rumbling of an approaching train. He’s definitely not in Yamato’s disgusting apartment. It looks more like a subway station.

The walls that reflect the setting sun hold various ads and posters and bulletins with colorful train routes on them; the tile under his feet is dirty. He doesn’t recognize the loafers on his feet, the wrinkled khakis bunching up around the tongues of the shoes.

A familiar voice shouts from behind him, barely audible over the roar of the train, but he doesn't—can't—turn around. Instead he lifts his head and his eyes fall on the train, its lights shining so brightly that the early evening shadows are chased away in that instant.

A terrible cry rips from his throat as if by force. Amidst the faceless strangers, a streak of silver hair stands out when the man turns his head. Watery violet eyes stare back at him, his dumbstruck face searing itself into Gaku’s retinas. Gaku's arm reaches out as if pulled by some string, and his body lurches forward as if the crowd would part.

The man steps off the platform.

The din of the train station cuts off and devolves into an abrupt silence that has Gaku stumbling backward onto the sofa behind him. Yamato, hands still firmly grasping Gaku’s shirt, falls with him, and he lands painfully on top of him.

“What the hell…” Yamato mutters, and it’s at this point that Gaku realizes he’s not in the train station anymore. There’s no crowd—it’s just the two of them now. No shaky ground, no train, no silver hair or teary eyes or platforms that drop off sharply.

“I—” Gaku chokes, his breath coming heavy and labored. “He—”

“You saw it, then,” Yamato says, adjusting himself just enough so that he’s curled up into Gaku’s side. Gaku doesn’t have the awareness to push him away. “That guy.”

Gaku blinks fast, trying to clear the image of the man from his eyes. He swallows, his throat tight from adrenaline, and coughs when that doesn’t help. “What was that?”

His voice comes out broken and clipped as his chest heaves, but Yamato seems to understand. “My power. I’m a witch too, after all.”

“You’re…” He trails off as the words sink in.

“I can see the future of anyone I kiss,” Yamato says simply, his shrug rubbing against Gaku’s shoulder.

Gaku rubs at his chest and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the silhouette of the man staining the darkness. “What kind of power is that?”

“Mine, I guess.” Yamato snorts. “I started having visions of that guy about a month ago.”

“Yuki-san said that’s when you holed yourself up in here,” Gaku says, making the connection. “Are you hiding?”

“Hiding?” As if making a point, Yamato turns away so his face is obscured by his hair. “Probably. If I don’t kiss anyone, I won’t see that.”

“You make it sound like it’s hard to avoid kissing,” Gaku says flatly. Yamato grunts in response.

“I don’t know anything about him,” he says instead. “I can’t find him anywhere, and no one I know recognizes him. I have no connection to him.”

“So you think becoming a shut-in is better?”

Yamato tenses. “You’re always like this.”

“Like what?” Gaku practically shouts.

Yamato clears his throat and turns back toward him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. Gaku strains, trying to understand the complicated expression on his face. “So pushy. But whatever.”

Without warning, Yamato pushes himself up off the couch and spins around, nearly falling off-kilter, before extending a hand out for Gaku to take.

“Now that you’re involved, I have no choice.” Yamato smirks, and Gaku can’t help but feel he’s missing an important piece of this puzzle.

“No choice? What does that mean?”

“You’re gonna find this guy and help him out, right?” Yamato says like it’s the most natural thing. “I’m coming too.”

Gaku lets Yamato take his hand and pull him up. The sudden weight on his weak legs causes him to wobble, but somehow Yamato is there holding him steady with gentle hands even while he struggles to stay standing himself. “You’re not wrong. I’m not just gonna stand here and let someone die when I could have prevented it.”

Yamato quirks up a smile, but it feels distant. “I knew you’d say that.”

Chapter Text

“Wow, I’m already being invited to meet the parents on our first date? I’m touched.”

Mitsuki reaches up without warning and smacks Yamato on the back of the head. “Can it, Nikaidou. My parents are busy, so you’ll have to wait for the second date for that one.”

“And here I thought we were taking our relationship to the next step.” Yamato rubs his head and feigns a pout.

“You guys literally just met,” Gaku says as he pulls open the door to Fonte Chocolat to let the rest of them inside. “How are you already fighting?”

“Perhaps it is because Nikaidou-shi has a difficult personality,” Nagi guesses, a single finger posed in the air. “He has been away from civilization for too long.”

“Jeez, how much embarrassing stuff did you tell them about me?” Yamato complains, following Mitsuki into the cafe. Mitsuki wastes no time making his way toward the back, clearly determined to get this trainwreck of a man out of sight of their customers.

“Orikasa’s the one who told us most of it.” Gaku lets the door fall closed behind him, bringing up the rear of their motley crew. He’s sure they’re a sight for sore eyes, but at least they’re all in the correct bodies and no other freaky supernatural powers are at work right now. Nonetheless, he feels several pairs of eyes on them as they pass through the cafe.

“Mister Yuki told us everything about you!” Nagi gushes. “He even showed us your baby pictures.”

“Wait—you actually took him up on that offer?” Gaku blanches, remembering the mischievous gleam in Yuki’s eyes when he had offered exactly that.

Nagi brings a finger to his lips and smirks, his expression devious and cunning. “But of course. There is no better way to get to know someone.”

Yamato groans too loudly for the atmosphere. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No one’s killing anyone,” Mitsuki says. “At least Yuki-san gave us a decent idea of what kinda person you’d be.”

Yamato grimaces. “Nothing he had to say about me could have been good.”

“Exactly.”

“Hey, now, I’m a sensitive guy.” Yamato clutches at his chest. “I might break if you’re too mean to me.”

“Ah, a fellow dramatic,” Nagi says, draping himself over Yamato’s shoulder and still managing to climb the stairs to the second floor. Gaku thinks he sees Yamato stiffen at the sudden touch, but he can’t be sure.

It doesn’t matter anyway, really. The guy’s weird to begin with.

“My room’s on the right,” Mitsuki says as they hit the landing, pointing in that direction. “Don’t do anything weird or I’ll smack you again.”

Yamato raises his hands in mock surrender, and suddenly all tension in his body is gone. “Hey, hey, what kinda asshole would I have to be to rifle through your drawers while you’re not looking and steal your underwear?”

Mitsuki is quiet for just a moment as Yamato’s… example… sinks in. “Not the kinda weird thing I had in mind, but if you do that I’ll do way more than smack you.”

“Harsh,” Yamato laments. As if he doesn’t deserve it. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Mitsu…ki.”

Mitsuki raises an eyebrow. “First name basis already? We barely know each other.”

Yamato clears his throat and looks away. “Hasn’t Yaotome told you about my power? I’ve already seen you guys in my premonitions.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t have the same luxury,” Mitsuki says as he opens up the door to his room to let them in. “But if we’re gonna be working together, I guess I don’t really mind it.”

“Then I will also call you Mitsuki!” Nagi cheers, spinning into the room. “It is a beautiful name.”

“Don’t you already call me Mitsuki anyway?” he grumbles as the rest of them pile into the small room. “Sorry about the space. And it’s kinda messy, too.”

Really, the only messy thing about the room is the stacks of notes, hand-written and printed, covering the small table situated in the center. Everything else is relatively neat, and even the bed is made, even if it’s just that the covers are pulled up haphazardly and the pillows are generally situated at the head of the bed.

“Thanks for always letting us use your room,” Gaku says. “I’d offer my house, but it gets kind of crazy sometimes.”

Mitsuki shrugs. “Iori likes to help out, too, so it makes sense. Don’t tell him I said that, though. He’ll deny it up and down.”

“Iori’s your little brother?” Yamato guesses, already making himself at home on the floor by the table.

Mitsuki looks over at him, cool and calculating. “I thought you knew everything about us. From your visions, or whatever.”

“I don’t get all the details,” Yamato admits. “It’s mostly about the feelings, anyway.” For some reason, he looks away when he says that, and Gaku catches a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“That so…”

“What kind of feelings do you get about me, Nikaidou-shi?” Nagi surges forward and drops to the floor next to Yamato, leaning in too close for someone he just met. “What have you seen in your visions of the future?”

Yamato coughs. “That’s—that’s a secret. If you know too much about your future, it’ll be bad, right?”

Nagi falls back on his haunches and sticks his lip out in an overexaggerated pout. “How unfair that you get to see everything about your future, and yet we must wait patiently with no knowledge of what is to come.”

“If I see anything about you being in danger, I’ll let you know.” Yamato reaches out, perhaps too hesitantly, and pats Nagi on the shoulder. “You’re in good hands with me.”

“I’m not sure if I believe that, but I guess we have no choice.” Mitsuki flops onto his bed and scoots over to give enough room for Gaku to sit next to him. “I was kinda curious too, though…”

“I’m a little curious, myself,” Gaku says, humming under his breath.

“You can literally see the future yourself if you just kiss him,” Mitsuki points out. “Because of your weird copy power.”

Oh, right. “I’ve only done it once, so I forgot.” His lips curl at the memory of that first vision.

“Oh, does Gaku want to kiss Yamato again?” Nagi asks, a merciless sparkle in his eye. “You have become so bold after the first time you kissed me.”

Yamato clears his throat. His gaze doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I guess if… Yaotome wants to do it, that’s okay. Since he can copy powers, so it’s not like I’m spoiling the future for anyone.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Gaku shrugs. “Are we doing it right now?”

“I kinda wanna see what happens,” Mitsuki says. “Not that I necessarily wanna see you kissing a bunch of other people, but I’m curious as to how this power works.”

“Oh, perhaps Mitsuki is jealous. He wants Gaku all to himself.” Nagi’s grin is cheeky up until Mitsuki dives toward him, catching him in a tight hold and giving him a noogie like they’re grade schoolers.

“I’m definitely not jealous!” Mitsuki practically shouts, too quick and too loud.

“No! Mitsuki! Not my hair!” Nagi wails, fighting against Mitsuki’s strong grip.

Yamato snorts.

“Shut it, you old man!”

Yamato reels back from Mitsuki’s wrath. “I didn’t even say anything!”

Gaku puts a hand to his chest, his heart throbbing as if an arrow had pierced it. “Nikaidou and I are the same age, you know. And only a year older than you.”

Mitsuki releases Nagi and ignores his whimpering. “You’re different. You don’t act like a forty-five year old pervert who drinks too much cheap alcohol.”

“Oh, I’m hurt.” Yamato lifts a hand to his head as if in pain, but sarcasm drips off his tongue in fat drops.

Mitsuki is unamused. “It’s your own fault.”

“You’re not wrong,” Yamato agrees. “So are we doing this, Yaotome?”

Gaku draws his eyebrows in. “Why am I the one who’s not on a first name basis? We’ve even kissed.”

Yamato tries and fails to hide a genuine smile, something Gaku didn’t know he was capable of. “Fine then, Gaku. Do you wanna see the future again?”

His heart stutters at the thought of seeing something like that guy again, something equally horrific. He understands why Yamato hid himself away, if he had to bear the burden of that premonition all on his own.

Still, he nods. “Maybe we can learn something useful.”

“You’re putting way too much stock into my power here.” Yamato shuffles away from Nagi so that there’s an opening between them. “Come closer. We can’t exactly kiss like this.”

Gaku slides off the bed into the little hole between Nagi and Yamato. It’s a tight squeeze, but neither of them make any move to shift away. Their bodies are warm against him, and it’s comforting in spite of Gaku’s anxieties. “All right, let’s do it.”

Yamato doesn’t lean in or make the first move at all. If anything, he seems nervous to initiate it, like he’s having second thoughts. Gaku gives him time to think things through, patiently waiting for Yamato to find his resolve. Not that he understands what he needs resolve for. Maybe it really has been too long since he’s shared his power with anyone else.

“You know you’re not going to see anything, right?” Gaku says, hoping that that will reassure Yamato enough. “It’ll just be me.”

Yamato turns red. “I know that! I need time to prepare myself first.”

“Why?” Gaku demands. “It’s not like we haven’t kissed before.”

“Shut up! You’re just making it worse.” Yamato brings a hand to his face and rubs at his eye, his glasses bobbing up and down with the motion. Gaku doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s making worse.

“If you don’t wanna kiss me then—”

“No!” Yamato exclaims, dropping his hand suddenly. “It’s not that. I’m fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

Gaku cocks his head to the side in a question Yamato doesn’t bother to answer. He feels Nagi bump up against him on his other side, Mitsuki on the bed behind them all but somehow no further away.

Yamato leans in, his breath shaky as he watches Gaku for some kind of reaction. Gaku isn’t sure what expression to make, but if Yamato is disappointed he doesn’t show it.

They’ve barely touched, soft lips on his, when Gaku’s world vanishes in an instant. He’s more prepared this time when it’s replaced by something else entirely.

He’s back in Yamato’s apartment, but it’s so clean this time around that he can barely tell it’s his. It’s only that familiar old couch that tips him off, the scent of Yamato’s favorite beer in the air.

He sees himself, and he wonders if this is a scenario where he’s switched bodies with Mitsuki again. But of course the setting doesn’t give any context, and Gaku is left floundering for answers even as the scene continues unaware of his struggle.

It’s only then that he realizes the position he’s in, lying next to the person who looks like him with fingers threaded through silver hair. There’s another arm draped over the Gaku clone’s waist. A feeling of warmth wraps around his own back.

“You fell asleep,” the Gaku lookalike says. His eyes are soft, and his smile is warm. “But so did everyone else.”

“‘S not hard,” his own voice says, and he hears a distinct difference in its quality. Maybe he really has switched bodies with someone. If the head he’s inhabiting would just look down, he might see it’s Mitsuki. But his eyes are firmly planted on the Gaku clone, never once looking away.

“Nagi’s gonna be pissed we fell asleep watching anime.” The lookalike laughs, and Gaku’s breath stutters in his chest against his will.

“He’ll get over it,” he hears himself say. Gaku reaches out to do something, anything, but he’s stuck as an observer in this vision. No matter how much he strains, he has no control over his movements, his voice.

He gives up and lets the scene play out.

“He’ll get depressed,” the lookalike continues. “Still just as pretty, though.”

Gaku sighs and tugs at the lookalike’s hair, gentle and playful. “You’re hopeless. But you’re not wrong.”

The arm wrapped around the lookalike’s waist stirs and pulls him closer, fingers digging into the pink blanket covering both of them.

“Are you gossiping about me?” a new voice asks, sleepy and muffled. Gaku waits for some indication of who it is, some tuft of hair to poke out from behind the lookalike, some clearer voice to speak.

But suddenly the warmth against his back is gone, the feeling of soft hair between his fingers missing. Gaku blinks, and his face is mushed up against Yamato’s, and this time it's his own hair with fingers running through it.

Yamato holds him gently, his hands so softly wrapped around him like he's made of porcelain. Like he’ll break if Yamato isn’t careful.

Slowly, Yamato’s eyes flutter open, and he pulls back reluctantly, fingers still threaded in Gaku’s hair. He presses his forehead into Gaku’s, and his breath mingles with Gaku’s, slow and steady. The world is still around them.

“Is it over?” Nagi asks, and Yamato suddenly jerks away, pushing Gaku away in stark contrast to the care with which he was holding him before.

Gaku lets out a surprised yelp and lands on Nagi, his head thudding against the floor and his torso draped over Nagi’s folded legs. Nagi peers down at him curiously, eyes wide as he searches for an answer.

“Yes, it’s over,” Gaku grumbles, reaching up to nurse the bruise he can already feel forming on the back of his head. Mitsuki laughs from the bed, the bed rocking with his motions.

Nagi slips a hand under Gaku’s shoulders and helps him sit back upright, and Gaku glares at Yamato, who’s turned away from them all to hide his face.

“What the hell, Nikaidou?” Gaku says, scowling pointedly in his direction. Not that Yamato can see it. “That hurt!”

“Ah, my bad,” Yamato says, turning just enough that Gaku can see his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at him. “I just got startled.”

Gaku rubs at his head. “By what?! I’m the one who had the vision!”

“Oh, you know,” Yamato says with a noncommittal wave of his hand, “this and that.”

“What a weird guy…” Mitsuki falls forward on the bed so that his face comes into Gaku’s immediate vision. “So what did you see? Something crazy?”

“Uh.” And that’s where Gaku cuts off, because to be honest, he’s not sure what he saw. He saw himself, sure, but that doesn’t mean anything. Not when body swapping is a possibility. He saw Yamato’s apartment, and maybe that does mean something, since it was way cleaner than anything Yamato could muster by himself.

“Is Gaku too embarrassed to say it?” Nagi teases, walking his fingers across Gaku’s shoulders. “How cute.”

“Cut it out!” he says, swatting at Nagi’s hand. He’s not particularly annoyed by the gesture, but it still leaves him feeling sensitive, his stomach flipping with every touch. “I don’t know how to explain it. I was there, though. I think.”

Mitsuki raises an eyebrow. “You think?”

“I mean I saw myself. So maybe I switched bodies with someone. And then there were three other people, and we were all—”

“Well, that doesn’t sound very useful!” Yamato says, nearly shouting over Gaku. He spins around and rests an arm on the bed, and Gaku can’t help but notice the sudden distance between him and the rest of them. His side is cold where Yamato had been just moments before. “Can’t find that dead guy with that, right?”

“Dead guy…” Nagi repeats solemnly.

“You sure know how to put a damper on things,” Mitsuki mumbles. “But he is right. Gaku-san, you didn’t see anything that might help us find the suicide jumper, right?”

Gaku shakes his head. “Nothing. It was in Nikaidou’s apartment.”

Nagi swears under his breath. “Then we will have to start from scratch.”

“Guess so,” Yamato says nonchalantly, lifting his arms above his head as he yawns. “That’s what I came here to do, right? You wanted me to join your little posse so we could save this guy.”

“Right.” A new sense of vigor hums through Gaku’s veins. “We absolutely have to find him before that future plays out. What have you tried, Nikaidou?”

Yamato scrunches up his nose, glasses lifting just slightly. “I flipped through some newspapers to see if he might be some well-known guy. Asked around to see if any acquaintances knew anyone who fit the description. Started keeping watch whenever I went out just in case I ran into him, up until I started seeing him everywhere.”

“How nerve-wracking,” Nagi says, his head falling onto Gaku’s shoulder. Though Gaku is intensely aware of it, he doesn’t shrug Nagi off of him.

“I can see why you’d hole yourself up,” Mitsuki agrees.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yamato says, finally turning back to face them all without obscuring his face. “I’m not okay with this. I don’t wanna be here. I’m only doing it ‘cause I’m the only one who can.”

“Gaku-san knows what the guy looks like now, doesn’t he?” Mitsuki asks. “So you don’t have to help us if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, Yamato, It is okay to admit the stress is too much for you.” Nagi’s arm snakes over Gaku’s arm and lands on Yamato’s shoulder, grip firm and reassuring. Gaku feels like the filling in a NagiYama sandwich, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“If you don’t wanna be here, you don’t have to.” Gaku shrugs, feeling Nagi’s weight press down on him as he does. “You’ve told us everything you know already, after all.”

Yamato opens his mouth to respond, but Mitsuki cuts him off quick. “But just so you know, even if you’re not helping us, you can’t just become a shut-in again, got it? That’s not healthy.”

Yamato scowls and glares up at Mitsuki, but there’s no real heat in his gaze. “Yeah, yeah, I get it already. I’m not leaving, though. I already said I’d help.”

“Huh,” Gaku muses, leaning his head to the side a little. It bumps up against Nagi’s, but Nagi doesn’t make any attempt to move, so instead they just sit there, heads together.

Yamato turns his gaze toward him. “What’re you ‘huh’-ing about?”

“Thought you’d be more of a flake.”

Yamato scoffs, his chest puffing out with indignation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You did spend quite some time as a hikikomori,” Nagi says, releasing Yamato’s shoulder only to reach up and poke his cheek. “It would be a natural conclusion.”

“I’m not gonna flake on you guys!” Yamato grabs at Nagi’s hand and holds it in the air away from his face.

“Yamato,” Nagi says seriously. “Your hands are very sweaty.”

“Shut up!” Yamato snatches his hand back while Mitsuki snickers wickedly. “My point is, I’m staying. I’m fine.”

Gaku frowns. “Fine, but tell us if it’s too much for you. You’ve been dealing with it for way longer than we have, and I know firsthand what that vision is like. It’s fine if you need to take a break.”

“Yes!” Nagi exclaims, throwing his arms up and falling off of Gaku back into the side of the bed. “We can all destress with anime!”

Gaku recalls the premotion he’d just experienced, the low rumble of dialogue in the background, the way his own face had looked so serene as he stared back at him.

“Anime, huh…” Mitsuki mumbles. “You’re one of those people.”

“Oh?” Nagi’s eyes go wide and innocent, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy dog. “Mitsuki, what do you mean?”

And Yamato is laughing again, hand pressed to his mouth like he can possibly hold back the bubbles of laughter that spill out. “You guys really are interesting.”

“What makes you say that, Mister I-Know-Everything-About-You?” Mitsuki asks, nudging Yamato in the shoulder. Even that can’t break Yamato’s smile, and Gaku can’t help but find it beautiful, like a rare gem.

“It’s different when you experience it in person.” Yamato draws up his leg to his chest and rests his head on it. “You get to see all the details, and you don’t get cut off halfway through.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaku says without thinking. He can’t stop thinking about the warmth of a body pressed against his back, the sleepy voice, the hitch in his breath, how it all cut off too soon. “I wonder what that was all about.”

“Hey, Gaku,” Yamato says. “I’m kinda thirsty. Let’s go get some beer.”

“You’re going to raid my fridge?” Mitsuki asks. “Without me?”

Yamato is already pushing himself up from the floor. “Don’t worry, I know where it is.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Come on, Gaku.” Yamato holds a hand out for Gaku to take.

“I’m good.” Gaku holds up a hand to stop him, but Yamato just grabs him anyway, hoisting him up without hesitating.

“Can’t two dudes get some quality time together?” Yamato laughs jovially, but it’s not quite as genuine as before. He pats Gaku’s back, ushering him toward the door. “Just two bros, chillin’ at a refrigerator—”

“Is this a Vine reference?” Nagi guesses, leaning back to get a better look at Yamato and Gaku from the floor.

Yamato coughs. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t think you should be drinking, given your recent history,” Gaku tries.

“Nonsense, I know my limits to a T.” Yamato pushes harder. “I’ll grab one for you too, Mitsu.”

“Mitsu…?” Mitsuki mutters.

“One for me, too!” Nagi calls after them.

“One for Mitsu and none for the minor,” Yamato says. “Got it. We’ll be right back.”

Nagi harrumphs and Yamato pulls Gaku out into the hallway, completely ignoring all the protests around him. Gaku is practically dragged down the hall toward the Izumi family’s personal kitchen, stumbling after Yamato since it’s not like he has a choice in the matter.

Just as they cross through the archway into the kitchen, Yamato stops short. He whirls around and presses his hand against Gaku’s chest, backing him up into a wall.

His face is too close to Gaku’s when he speaks. “Listen.”

Gaku doesn’t dare even breathe.

“That vision you saw. Don’t pay any attention to it. It doesn’t mean anything.” His eyes are narrow and sharp, his glasses gleaming almost menacingly.

“If you’re saying that, it’s gotta mean something,” Gaku says, and it’s all he can do to keep his voice from wavering. Yamato’s breath is hot on his neck, and their chests are pressed together, Yamato’s hand against the wall in a threatening kind of kabedon.

“It doesn’t.” Yamato doesn’t once break eye contact. “Don’t mention it to anyone, and don’t think too hard about it. You’ll just give yourself a headache.”

“Hey—”

“I know you, Gaku,” Yamato continues. “I don’t know everything, but I know enough. And I know what you’re capable of. So just forget you saw anything and let the future play out how it’s meant to. You don’t need to know anything right now.”

A few words stick out to him. “What I’m capable of?”

Yamato sighs. “Don’t worry about it. Just stay stupid and cute and everything’ll work out fine. Don’t meddle in this kinda thing.”

Gaku wants to make a comment, but he stops himself before he can stick his foot in his mouth. “Got it. It doesn’t matter right now, anyway. We need to find that guy before it’s too late.”

Yamato blinks. His jaw falls slack as he stares up at Gaku. “R–right. You’re right.”

He pushes off the wall, rocking back on his heel and spinning around casually as if nothing had ever happened. Gaku stands there for a moment to gather his bearings, back pressed against the wall and heart beating wildly against his chest.

He can’t help that Yamato has crazy good looks, like a hot villain in a movie.

The refrigerator pops open. “You want one, right?”

Gaku nods once. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Yamato tosses him a can and Gaku catches it easily. “Hey, Gaku.”

Gaku hums as he pops the tab.

“Thanks.”

Gaku lifts the beer to his lips and takes a sip. Yamato watches him carefully, hands tightly clenched around the two cans he grabbed for himself and Mitsuki. “For what?”

Yamato shakes his head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Hm.” Another sip, and he starts walking back to the room, Yamato close on his heels. “You really are a weird guy.”

Yamato snorts, but the laugh is good-natured and soft. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Chapter Text

Iori brings a friend home with him today.

Gaku is sitting in Mitsuki’s room, scrolling down Twitter to kill time when the two of them burst into his room without a care to who’s inside.

“Mikki!” a tall boy shouts. There’s a spoon hanging out of his mouth and a cup of King Pudding in his hand, his schoolbag haphazardly thrown over his shoulder to complement his disheveled uniform. “I missed you!”

“Yotsuba-sa—”

Iori doesn’t get the chance to stop him before the boy has gathered Gaku up in his arms, squeezing so tightly he can’t breathe. Gaku coughs, and Iori watches the display with a pitiful expression, mouth twisted into a grimace.

Just before Gaku passes out, though, the boy releases him and lets Gaku fall back into a heap onto Mitsuki’s bed, orange bangs falling into his eyes. “Thank…you…”

“I brought you some pudding,” the boy says as he swings his bag over his shoulder and plops it down on the bed next to him, wasting no time in tearing it apart as he searches for the container. “Iorin said I absolutely couldn’t come over today, so I thought if I brought you King Pudding you’d forgive me.”

“Yotsuba-san, that’s not how it works,” Iori says, running a tired hand over his face. “You should go home now. Or at least go to my room.”

“What?” He spins around, shoulders hunched. “But I wanted to say hi to Mikki. You can’t just keep him all to yourself, Iorin. That’s not fair.”

“He’s not even—” Iori coughs and backtracks immediately, eyes wide as he realizes his mistake. “Nii-san is really busy with work lately, so we should leave him alone.”

Gaku glances down at the phone in his hand, still open on the Tik Tok video he’d been watching on loop for the last five minutes.

“You’re just lying ‘cause you want him all to yourself,” the boy says in a tone that can’t be argued with. “Besides, Mikki loves me enough to wanna see me anyway, right?”

Gaku doesn’t even know who this kid is, so he definitely doesn’t know how to answer a question like that. “Uh.”

Iori practically leaps between them. “Yotsuba-san. I want some pudding too. Would you please go get some for me?”

He scrunches up his face and lets the spoon fall from his mouth, somehow landing perfectly in his open hand. “I have an extra one in my bag—”

“No!” Iori shouts, then immediately recoils. “No, I don’t want to take yours. We should have some more in the refrigerator, though.”

The boy huffs loudly and exaggeratedly enough to properly convey his irritation. “You just don’t wanna get it yourself. And you call me lazy.”

“You caught me,” Iori says flatly. Gaku can almost see the roll of his eyes, even while Iori faces away from him. “Now go get it. I don’t want to be the only one without a snack, after all.”

“I get it, I get it, I’m going,” he complains as he stomps out of the room and back down the hall they had come from.

There’s a beat of silence where Iori keeps watch to make sure the boy won’t come back, and then he whips around and grips Gaku’s shoulders with more strength than he thought Iori was capable of. His voice is low and venomous when he speaks. “Why are you here? Where is my brother?”

“He’s fine!” Gaku throws up his hands and turns away, hoping that the barrier between them will ease the pain of the younger Izumi’s rampage. “He’s the one who wanted to switch.”

Hands fall off of him and Gaku lets himself look back, hesitant and slow. “Nii-san engaged it?”

Gaku nods once. “Momo-san invited him to play basketball. Your brother said he’d win for sure if he were as tall as me. And I got stuck with his shift here.”

Iori stares at Gaku for what seems like an eternity, until Gaku finally caves under the awkwardness and squirms away. Iori follows him with his gaze, and then he sucks in a long, deep breath. “That sounds like something he would do. Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the one stuck here now,” Gaku says. “Who’s the kid with you anyway?”

Iori glances over his shoulder. “Yotsuba Tamaki. He’s my… classmate at school. He clings to me like I’m some kind of stuffed rabbit. Or maybe I should say the stuffed King Pudding he sleeps with every night.”

“You’re friends?”

Iori snorts. “Acquaintances. Yotsuba-san just doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.”

“Iorin!” comes a shout from down the hall. “I got your pudding, so be grateful!”

Iori immediately perks up and turns just in time to catch a flying Tamaki, who had launched himself toward him at impossible speeds. He turns a soft shade of pink when Tamaki grins at him, handing off the pudding with a smug, satisfied look on his face. “Thank you. Now we really should be studying. Let’s go to my room and—”

“I’ve barely talked to Mikki though!” Tamaki whines, leaning bodily into Iori. “You don’t let me come over anymore so I have to make the most of it now.”

“You just want nii-san to cook you meals,” Iori huffs.

Tamaki adjusts his position so that he’s resting his chin on Iori’s shoulder, peering at Gaku. “It’s ‘cause Mikki makes the best food!”

Gaku would like to see Mitsuki try and compete against his specialty soba, but he can’t exactly say that out loud in this situation.

“We’ve already eaten,” Iori lies smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tamaki throws his arms wide and gestures at the room around here. “We just got here!”

Iori bites his lip as he realizes his mistake. “I meant nii-san has eaten. I asked him over Rabbit Chat before we got here.”

Tamaki looks like he absolutely, definitely doesn’t believe a word Iori says. His lips are pursed and his brows are pulled together that makes it look like he’s thinking way too hard about this, and finally he shakes his head as if giving up. “But there are leftovers, right?”

“You can check the fridge, you know.” Iori sighs and rubs at his temple. “But nii-san is tired, so we should let him rest.”

“Why are you speaking for Mikki?”

Tamaki’s sudden sharpness has Iori stuttering, and he falls a step back as Tamaki rounds on him.

“You won’t even let him say anything,” Tamaki continues. “Why not?”

Gaku isn’t sure what to say here, but he knows he has to say something. “Listen, Yotsuba—”

“Yotsuba?!” Tamaki repeats, a grimace twisting his face like he’s tasted rotten pudding.

Gaku pauses. “Tamaki?”

Tamaki glares at him. “What’s going on here?”

Iori sighs long and slow and sits down on the bed next to Gaku. “Can’t you just let it be, Yotsuba-san?”

“Nuh-uh.” Tamaki shakes his head, hair whipping at his face in his fervor. “What happened to Mikki?”

“He’s—I’m fine,” Gaku tries, desperately racking his brain for something Mitsuki might say in this situation. “If you’re hungry, go get something to eat! There’s plenty of food in the fridge.”

“You’re not Mikki.” Tamaki folds his arms across his chest.

“Wh–what do you mean? Who else would I be?” Gaku ignores the sweat beading under his choppy bangs.

“You didn’t even hug me back,” Tamaki says, as if that alone is proof enough. Maybe it is; Gaku wouldn’t know. “What did you do with him?”

“Nothing!” Gaku says, leaning as far away from Tamaki as he can manage. “It’s me!”

Tamaki wrinkles up his nose. “You’re a witch, right? Sou-chan said there are witches who steal people’s bodies. That’s you.”

“I’m not—” Gaku cuts himself off when the words finally sink in. “A witch?”

Iori breathes in sharply. “Yotsuba-san, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, Iorin, that Mikki got taken by a body snatcher!” Tamaki lunges toward Gaku, using his height advantage to pin him down on the bed. “Where is he?”

Gaku doesn’t know how to form the words he wants to say. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again. All the while he’s staring at Tamaki, the way he bites his lip and scrunches his face in distress.

“How do you know about witches?” Iori rescues Gaku once again, and he realizes he’ll probably have to thank the brat later.

Tamaki doesn’t take his eyes off Gaku. “I told you, Sou-chan told me about them. That doesn’t matter though! We have to find Mikki.”

“Nii-san is fine, Yotsuba-san.” Iori places a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder, and the grip Tamaki has around Gaku’s wrists seems to ease up. “Let him go.”

“But…” Tamaki’s glare wavers, and then he lets go in one motion, falling down onto the tatami near Mitsuki’s table. The impact sends a few loose sheets of papers flying off the surface, the painstaking research on witches and the guy Gaku saw in his premonition scattering into a mess.

“You’re right,” Gaku says. “I’m not Izumi-ani. But I’m not a witch, either.”

Tamaki jerks to attention, head cocked to the side as he watches Gaku. “But Sou-chan said—”

“Izumi is the witch,” Gaku clarifies. “They call me a witch killer.”

Tamaki’s eyes bulge and his mouth drops open. “You killed Mikki!”

“No!” Iori shouts. “Yaotome-san, please choose your words more carefully.”

“Ah, sorry.” Gaku shakes his head. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

Tamaki gives him a doubtful look.

“I didn’t!”

“Regardless,” Iori interjects pointedly, “nii-san is fine. He switched bodies with Yaotome-san for a while, and he’ll be back later.”

“You sure?” Tamaki asks, poking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I’m sure,” Iori says, and the corners of his lips tilt upward into a tiny smile.

Tamaki’s grin mirrors Iori’s. “You sure you’re sure?”

And then Iori’s grin vanishes, replaced by a deep frown. “Yes, I’m sure. He’s fine. More importantly, who is this person you were talking about?”

“I’m curious, too,” Gaku says, pushing himself upright on the bed so he can see them better. “How do you know about witches? Are you one?”

“What? Me?” Tamaki shakes his head. “No, that’s Sou-chan. He tells me things sometimes.”

“Who is ‘Sou-chan’ then?” Gaku asks, stumbling over the nickname.

“My brain partner.” Tamaki’s smirk is smug and proud, but it’s quickly replaced by a grimace. He picks at his ear and turns away. “He’s annoying sometimes, though.”

He speaks pointedly, but Gaku can’t for the life of him figure out who it’s directed at.

“Brain partner,” Iori repeats. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What is that?”

“We’re connected.” Tamaki raps at his skull. “In our brains.”

“You share a brain?” Gaku guesses. “What kind of witch power is that?”

“Do you mean telepathy?” Iori says, throwing a quick deadpan stare toward Gaku before turning back to Tamaki. “You can hear each other’s thoughts?”

“That’s it!” Tamaki exclaims. “You deserve another King Pudding.”

“We don’t have any more.”

“Ah—right.” Tamaki huffs like it’s the worst news he’s heard today. “You should get more, since it’s so good.”

“What’s with you and pudding, anyway?” Gaku asks, leaning forward. “I prefer savory meals like soba. Pudding is too sweet.”

“You take that back,” Tamaki says in clipped, short syllables.

Gaku crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Says the guy with no taste buds,” Tamaki shoots back. “You really are nothing like Mikki.”

“Can we please stay on topic?” Iori says, cutting off the retort Gaku was about to blurt out.

“No pudding for you then.” Tamaki huffs and turns away. Iori promptly ignores his pouting.

“So the fifth witch has telepathy,” Iori says, kneeling to the floor to make notes of his own on the printouts. “We’re just missing two.”

“Sou-chan says you guys are like a witch magnet,” Tamaki says. “He also wants to meet the other witches, but he doesn’t want me to tell you.”

“So you told us anyway,” Gaku says.

Tamaki clamps his hand over his mouth. “Oops.”

“We should meet him,” Iori says, still writing in the margins on the papers. “He could have valuable information, after all.”

“That’s what I said, but Sou-chan is a big chicken. He doesn’t like meeting new people.” Tamaki splays himself across the table, throwing his arms over the papers and scattering them even more.

Iori pauses, since he can’t actually write anymore. “Yotsuba-san, do you mind?”

“Eh?” Tamaki flips his head so he’s facing him. “No, not at all.”

Iori glances at Gaku, his expression strained. Then, with a roll of his eyes, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and begins tapping furiously on the screen. “When and where can we meet him? He doesn’t go to our school, does he?”

Tamaki snorts. “Sou-chan’s in college. He’s all fancy and stuff.”

Iori’s fingers still on his phone keyboard. “You’ve kissed a college stu—?! How did you two even meet?”

“Jeez, what’s with the third degree? He ran into me at the train station last year and then we started hearing each other’s thoughts.” Tamaki picks at his ear again, tugging on the lobe as if it’ll do something.

“Did you never think about breaking the connection?” Gaku asks.

“Nah, ‘s easier than texting.”

Gaku looks at Iori. Iori is back to typing out notes on his phone, but he seems to sense his gaze. “Yotsuba-san doesn’t like hard work.”

“And texting is hard work,” Gaku concludes.

“You said it!” Tamaki calls, lifting his arm off the table just high enough to give a big thumbs up. “When someone texts me I can’t eat pudding at the same time.”

Iori groans and drops his phone onto the table with a loud thud. “This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Tamaki shoots back, poking his tongue out playfully. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What is your… relationship to this man?” Iori’s eyes are narrowed as he asks the question, his hands firmly clasped together next to his forgotten phone.

“We’re buds,” Tamaki says lazily, stretching out over the table.

Iori tenses. “Just friends?”

Tamaki hums a little and nods, but it doesn’t seem to assuage Iori any. His mouth curls up into a smile and he glances back toward Gaku. “I’m gonna have dinner at his house tonight, too. Sou-chan wanted soba, but ramen is way better so I made him change it.”

“What’s wrong with soba? Gaku glares down at Tamaki, whose grin only becomes smug and taunting.

In Tamaki’s eye is a dare. “Kinda bland.”

A spike of anger pierces Gaku’s chest. “You trying to say somethin’?”

“Only that you have bad taste.”

“Watch it, Yotsuba,” Gaku warns. “I’m still older than you. And bigger than you.”

Tamaki snorts, and Gaku glances down at himself only to realize that, yep, he’s still in Mitsuki’s body. “I’m definitely way bigger than you, Gakkun.”

Gaku’s face twists up at the nickname. “You’re lucky you’re a minor.”

“Huh, you chicken or somethin?” Tamaki snickers and pats Iori’s arm like they’re both in on some secret. “You know that soba shop down the street? Yamamama Soba or something—it’s not very good. I bet you’d like it though, right?”

“You little—!” Gaku clenches his fists in the bedding just in time to keep himself in check. “You just wait ‘til I’m back in my own body.”

“Why wait?” Tamaki says, slamming his hands on the table and pushing himself up. “I’ll take you right here. I don’t give a shit.”

“Wh—wait, wh—?!” Gaku sputters as Tamaki grabs at him, hauling him off the bed and pulling him into a chokehold in the same motion.

“You disrespected my pudding first!” Tamaki yells, overpowering Iori’s surprised shout and Gaku’s grunts.

“Get off me!” Gaku throws his hands up blindly, trying to find some kind of advantage. But this is a body he’s not used to, a height he’s definitely not used to, and he can’t find a way out.

“Yotsuba-san!” Iori shouts, grabbing at Tamaki’s waist. “That’s nii-san’s body!”

“Don’t you care about the person inside the body, too?!” Gaku struggles helplessly in Tamaki’s hold, pulling until his neck strains and his breath comes out in raspy heaves.

“Admit King Pudding is great,” Tamaki says, throwing Gaku on the bed, “and you’re just lying.”

“Lying!” Gaku blurts out, taking in a huge gulp of air while he still can. “What is this, grade school?” He reaches up and grabs at Tamaki, only managing to get a chunk of hair in his fist. Still he pulls, and Tamaki yells out as he follows Gaku down onto the bed. He lands with a grunt on top of him, but it doesn’t put a dent in his fighting spirit.

“You started it!”

“Yotsuba-san!”

“Don’t talk shit—” Gaku shoves at Tamaki, knocking him off the bed and to the floor, “—about my soba shop!”

“I’ll talk whatever shit I wanna!” Iori grabs at Tamaki again, not even bothering to push him away as he balls his hands into fists and pulls his arm back, ready to swing.

“Hello—!” Comes the lilting voice of Gaku’s guardian angel. Gaku can barely see Nagi come through the door, but the voice is distinctive enough that he’d recognize him anywhere.

“Hey, hey!” Yamato calls as he peeks in from the hallway. “What the hell’s going on here?”

Tamaki eases up a little, slumping his shoulders but not relaxing his fist, and Gaku is able to see his own body rush through the door, blue eyes bulging as he takes in the scene before him.

“Iori, what the—”

“Gakkun started it!” Tamaki accuses, pointing a finger at Gaku. At least it’s no longer a fist.

“Why are you blaming me?!” Gaku shouts back, frantically messing with his hair to straighten it out. He doesn’t want Mitsuki to have to go back to his own body roughed up like that.

“Oh… what is happening?” Nagi asks, looking between the the three of them in their embarrassing positions: Gaku falling halfway off the bed, Tamaki on the floor, and Iori with his arms wrapped around Tamaki.

Iori seems to notice his position and immediately releases Tamaki, falling backwards with a tiny oof. He clears his throat and looks away, his face an unsightly shade of red.

Yamato leans against the doorframe as he watches all of them from afar. “So what would happen if G—if Yaotome died while in your body, Mitsu? Would you be stuck in his body forever?”

Nagi snorts behind his hand.

“That wouldn’t be the worst outcome…” Mitsuki muses under his breath. “Wait, no! Why are you guys fighting in the first place?”

“Yotsuba shit on my family,” Gaku says with a huff, positioning himself more properly on the bed.

“Gakkun said pudding was too sweet.” Tamaki turns up his nose at him.

“You guys…” Mitsuki shakes his head, silver waves bouncing around his jawline. With a sigh, he stomps over to the bed and takes Gaku’s chin in his hand, pulling him forward roughly.

Gaku thinks he should be used to kissing Mitsuki by now. But his breath still hitches when he feels soft lips on his chapped ones, a mark of someone more interested in living his life to the fullest than indulging in appearances. He ignores the sarcastic whistle he has to assume comes from Yamato and focuses instead on the familiar shift as Mitsuki’s power activates.

And then he’s the one holding Mitsuki, his grip gentle so Mitsuki can pull away whenever he wants.

He lingers a little longer in Gaku’s arms, until Gaku’s legs feel weak. He can’t tell if it’s from fatigue or not.

Mitsuki pulls away and lets out a breath. He’s close enough that Gaku feels it tickle his nose. “I won’t forgive you if you get killed in my body, you know.”

“Don’t worry,” Gaku assures him. “I’ll always make sure to return it to you in perfect condition.”

“I wasn’t gonna kill him!” Tamaki whines loudly, cutting into their very close, very intimate conversation.

“Hey, let the lovebirds finish,” Yamato goads, and Gaku turns over his shoulder to glare at him. Yamato looks away, feigning innocence.

But Mitsuki just laughs. “You guys are so stupid. How do you get in a fight over food?”

Tamaki throws his arms up in exasperation. “It’s not just food, Mikki! It’s King Pudding!”

“It is reasonable,” Nagi agrees with a solemn nod of his head.

“Rokuya?” Gaku turns his head sharply. “You’re turning on me?”

“A fight to the death is essential when one’s honor is at stake,” Nagi elaborates. He presses a fist to his chest.

“What is this, some period anime?”

Yamato interrupts with a hearty laugh that cuts through the bickering like a knife.

“What’s so funny?” Mitsuki asks, eyebrow raised.

Yamato cuts off suddenly and coughs into his hand. “Sorry, it’s nothing. You guys are just pretty funny, that’s all.” His eyes flicker to the side, and he seems to sink into himself. “Who are you, anyway? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yotsuba Tamaki,” Tamaki replies, holding his head high as if he were just praised. Truthfully, Gaku can’t tell one way or another when it comes to Yamato. “I’m Iori’s best friend.”

“Acquaintance,” Iori corrects quickly.

“Only friend,” Tamaki revises, smirking at Iori. “We go to arcades ‘n’ stuff.”

Iori turns helplessly toward the adults in the room. “He’s not my only friend. He’s just too attached to me. That’s all.”

Mitsuki’s smile is knowing and teasing when he reaches out to ruffle Iori’s hair. “I’m just glad you have a friend at school.”

“Iori has a difficult personality,” Nagi agrees with a broad smile that doesn’t quite match his words. “But he’s very cute!”

“Super cute!” Tamaki agrees. He tosses his arms over Iori’s shoulders and pulls him into a casual hug from behind. Iori goes entirely rigid.

Mitsuki snickers knowingly.

“What are you two even doing here?” Mitsuki asks, staring pointedly at them.

“Nii-san,” Iori starts, then clamps his mouth shut when his voice cracks. “Nii-san, Yotsuba-san is connected to a witch.”

“What?” Nagi exclaims, pressing his hands to his cheeks. “Have we found another witch?”

“Is it connected to that guy…?” Yamato asks in a too-small voice. It’s uncharacteristic, and when Gaku looks over to check on him he has his hands curled around his pants, posture stiff like he wants nothing more than to run away.

“Shouldn’t you have told us that from the start?” Mitsuki says.

“It’s hard when you’re getting pummeled by a seventeen-year-old,” Gaku mumbles under his breath.

“I’m telling you, it’s your own fault!” Tamaki cries, hugging Iori closer to him in his fervor.

Iori squirms under the pressure. “Get off of me!”

“Tamaki, who is this witch?” Nagi asks, ignoring the way Iori struggles.

Mitsuki frowns, bouncing a little on the bed as he situates himself. “On top of that, how have you known about witches this whole time and never told us anything?”

Tamaki rolls his eyes. “Sou-chan is the witch.”

“Who is Sou-chan?” Mitsuki prompts.

“Sou-chan is Sou-chan!”

“Yotsuba-san, please try being helpful.” Iori prods at Tamaki’s arms until they fall off of him, sliding down his shoulders and hitting the tatami with a soft thud.

“I am!” Tamaki leans back into the table and kicks his feet out toward the bed, lounging as if he has no care in the world. Perhaps he doesn’t. He doesn’t have to be involved with witches, anyway, even if he somehow is.

“I guess I’m just surprised that even Iori didn’t know about him,” Mitsuki says, lifting a hand to his chin in thought. “Since you guys are best friends, after all.”

Iori shakes his head. “We’re not—”

“Sou-chan’s shy,” Tamaki says by way of explanation. “He’s already mad that I told you guys about him.”

Iori frowns and glances toward him, searching his face for something, maybe an answer to an unasked question. “Are you sure your relationship with this person is healthy?”

Yamato snorts from behind them. “Pretty sure there’s nothing healthy about these shitty witch powers.”

Iori ignores him.

“Are you jealous, Iorin?” Tamaki giggles to himself as he teases him, and he even lifts a finger to boop Iori on the nose for good measure.

“I’m not—!” Iori cuts himself off and slaps Tamaki’s hand away, puffing out his chest indignantly. “I am not jealous. Especially of a strange older man who I’ve never met and you’ve never mentioned.”

Tamaki quirks an eyebrow and smirks, but he doesn’t say anything more.

“In any case,” MItsuki says, drawing everyone’s attention with the way he lifts his voice, “we should meet him. Tamaki, can you set that up? We’re trying to gather all the witches.”

Tamaki is quiet for a second. He tilts his head to the side and chews at his lip, as if he were staring at an exceptionally difficult math problem instead of the striped pattern of Mitsuki’s comforter. “Sou-chan says he’s busy with his internship. He doesn’t go out a lot.”

Tamaki sounds disappointed, almost, with his own answer.

“Tell him to make time,” Gaku says. “We need to meet him.”

Tamaki scrunches up his face and looks away again, eyes unfocused as he concentrates on something outside of this room. Gaku wonders what it’s like to hear someone else’s thoughts; the thought of kissing this Sou-chan person sends a thrill of excitement through him.

Oh, no. He’s gotten way too used to this whole witch thing.

He grunts to himself and shakes the thoughts out of him, even as he remains curious about the logistics of this telepathy power. He’ll have it soon enough. There’s no reason to work himself up about kissing a guy he doesn’t even know.

“He says fine,” Tamaki says suddenly, jerking Gaku out of his thoughts with all the force of the sudden downward drop of a roller coaster. “I told him Gakkun kills witches and Sou-chan got curious.”

“I told you I don’t kill witches!” Gaku asserts. “And what kind of witch would want to meet me if I did?”

Gaku starts to wonder about the character of this Sou-chan.

“Maybe he’s sizing you up,” Yamato guesses. “Thinks he can take you.”

“What is he, a pro wrestler?” Mitsuki asks. “He’s not gonna try and fight us, right?”

“I can take him on,” Nagi says with a confidence that sends a shiver down Gaku’s spine. He absolutely doesn’t imagine Nagi kicking his ass.

“No one is fighting,” Iori says, clasping his hands together. “We don’t want to scare him off.”

“I just need to kiss him, right?” Gaku asks. “For… research.”

Yamato looks displeased with the idea, but he doesn’t say anything. Mitsuki, though, laughs and leans forward, a mocking smirk on his face. “You’re really getting into this, huh?”

Gaku frowns and looks away, ignores the stirring in his gut when Mitsuki looks at him like that. “I don’t have a choice, right? I’m the only one who can copy powers.”

“We could always just ask Yotsuba-san’s friend to give us the details of his power,” Iori says. “You don’t have to kiss anyone.”

“Oh, right.” There’s no real reason to kiss him when they already have access to the power. It’s not like he’s particularly keen on kissing everyone around him, anyway. If anything, this works in his favor.

“Disappointed?” Yamato snickers, and Gaku jumps when he clamps a hand down on his shoulder, suddenly manifesting behind him.

“Shut it,” he grumbles, shaking Yamato off him. Why the hell did they let this asshole join their inner circle, anyway? He’s just annoying. “Why are you even here?”

Yamato shrugs easily. “Mitsu invited me to play with them.”

“You played basketball?” Gaku raises an eyebrow. He doubts Yamato was sober enough.

“Oh, hell no.” Yamato doubles over and barks out a few quick, exaggerated laughs. “I don’t do sports.”

“Yes!” Nagi dances over to them and resting his arms around Yamato’s shoulders. “Yamato was our valuable referee! He is very good at making calls.”

“You’re only saying that because he didn’t call fowls on you,” Mitsuki grumbles, glaring over at Yamato. Yamato whistles and turns away, not really making it far since Nagi is still draped over him.

“I wanna play basketball with Mikki and Momorin,” Tamaki says with a huff.

“It was during school hours,” Mitsuki explains. “So it can’t be helped. I’ll invite you next time though, but only if you play on my team.”

Tamaki pumps his fist into the air with a loud whoop. “Yeah! We’re gonna kick their asses, Mikki!”

Mitsuki raises his hands up for a double high five, and Tamaki complies eagerly. “Yeah we are!”

“I hope that I will also be on Mitsuki’s team,” Nagi says. “What a fearsome duo these two would be.”

There’s a dangerous glint in Mitsuki’s eye. “You better watch out, Nagi. If I’m in Gaku-san’s body I’ll be unstoppable.”

“Hey, don’t just use my body how you like!” Gaku protests weakly, even while knowing he’d switch with Mitsuki every time he asked.

What an interesting relationship they’ve developed.

“Ah, you’re right.” Mitsuki scrunches up his face. “I shouldn’t have assumed. Sorry.”

Suddenly Gaku feels bad, even if he’s not sure why he should feel bad. “That’s not what I meant. It’s fine if we switch, anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

Mitsuki makes a funny kind of smile. “That so? Well, okay then. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Oh, could it be that Mitsuki just wants to kiss Gaku?” Nagi’s arms are still wrapped around Yamato, a typical display for someone like him. Yamato is obviously stiff under Nagi’s excessive touching, but he still smiles easily as he watches the scene play out.

“Can it! That’s absolutely not true.” Mitsuki shakes his head furiously, a denial that has Gaku’s stomach sinking even if he doesn’t understand why.

It’s not like he enjoys kissing them, either. It’s just, you know, a necessary part of life. They have to kiss. It’s inevitable, and there’s no getting around it. So it makes sense, at least, that they wouldn’t dislike it, but they also don’t have to, like, want it.

Or that’s what he tells himself.

It’s not very reassuring.

“I dunno, Mitsu, you look like you enjoy it,” Yamato purrs, leaning back into Nagi as they conspire wordlessly. “You sure there’s no ulterior motives?”

Mitsuki turns bright red—whether it’s embarrassment or anger, Gaku can’t tell. But his scowl is deep and his voice is loud and Gaku is so glad he’s not the target of Mitsuki’s ire right now. “You shut up too! Of course I’m not gonna hate it. I’ve gotten used to it by now!”

“Kissing is very enjoyable,” Nagi agrees.

“Of course you’d think so,” Gaku says. “It’s your job.”

“My job is to please beautiful women,” Nagi counters. “Kissing is merely a bonus.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone else?” Yamato asks. “Or is Gaku your one and only?”

“Don’t phrase it like that!” Mitsuki stomps his foot into the tatami. “I’ve kissed Momo-san.”

Yamato frowns at that. “There was someone else, huh…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitsuki glares at him.

Yamato clears his throat. “Well, I always thought you were the most chaste one here. It’s weird thinking you’ve gotten around.”

Without warning, Mitsuki lunges at Yamato. Nagi spins away, leaving Yamato defenseless against the attack. Without any kind of backup, Yamato is knocked to the floor with a loud thud, and Gaku winces, his own ass hurting just watching the impact.

“Stop acting like you know everything about us,” Mitsuki says seriously. “You’re annoying.”

Yamato adjusts his glasses and yelps when he realizes how close Mitsuki’s face is to his. “I just told you I was wrong!”

“I’ve only done it a few times with Momo-san, anyway,” Mitsuki continues, completely ignoring Yamato’s protests and their proximity to each other. “It really has mostly been Gaku.”

For some reason, Gaku’s face prickles with warmth at that.

“So I was right.” Yamato smirks, and Mitsuki whacks him on the side of his head.

“Shut the hell up, old man.”

Yamato absolutely does not shut the hell up. “Have you ever kissed another witch?”

Mitsuki squints. “Why would I do that?”

“You know, just to experiment,” is Yamato’s cryptic response. “We’re the only ones who your powers don’t work on. We’re safe.”

“Safe, huh,” Mitsuki mumbles. “Well, I don’t need to kiss anyone else, witch or not.”

Yamato’s face falls. “That so.”

Mitsuki breathes out, face still too close to Yamato. “I don’t particularly want to kiss someone I’m not in love with.”

Yamato’s jaw clenches, eyes harden. Then in a motion too fast for Gaku to follow, he reaches up and captures Mitsuki’s head in his hand, pulling him even closer than before. “Even now?”

Mitsuki’s breath hitches, and he stammers wordlessly, tugging uselessly against Yamato’s grip. His face is pink and his eyes are wide, and still Yamato’s getting closer, until they’re less than a centimeter apart.

Iori clears his throat. “Nikaidou-san.”

Yamato yelps and drops his hand as if he’d been burned. Mitsuki falls backward with a soft oof.

Iori speaks calmly and coolly, but his expression is cross and his arms are folded over his chest, fingers digging into his arms like he’s just barely holding himself back. “Please behave yourself.”

Yamato looks around, dumbstruck, as if remembering where he is. “Ah, right. I was just playing around.”

“Yama-san’s a weird guy,” Tamaki says, leaning into Iori like he’s telling a secret even though his voice is far too loud to conceal.

“Don’t worry; we know,” Mitsuki says, rubbing the back of his head where Yamato’s hand had been before.

“Ah, I’m being bullied,” Yamato laments sarcastically.

“You deserve it.” Gaku glares down at him and offers a hand to help Mitsuki up. “Yotsuba. When can we meet your friend?”

Tamaki frowns. “He has time after work tomorrow. He offered to cook dinner, but don’t eat anything he gives you.”

“What’s with that ominous warning…” Gaku sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He can’t help but think it feels exactly like it did in his premonition, all soft and silky.

Right. He’s not thinking about that anymore.

He absolutely doesn’t think it feels exactly like it did in his premonition. Instead he doubles down on his focus to the here and now, forgetting the future for now.

Yamato is still on the floor, but Mitsuki and Nagi are next to him, their warmth radiating around Gaku. It’s almost calming, grounding, and he clings to that desperately.

Iori and Tamaki are further away, but no less present. Iori watches on in distaste. Tamaki looks bored, picking at his fingernails instead of actually paying attention.

“Then it’s tomorrow,” Gaku says firmly. “Yotsuba will be our middleman.”

“I wanna be the topman,” Tamaki shoots back. “More powerful.”

“That’s not—” Gaku cuts himself off, realizing he’s already gotten into a fight with this kid once today and he’s pretty sure Mitsuki would kill him if he did it again. “Sure, that’s fine. We’ll meet at the station tomorrow after your school lets out.”

“I’ll come along, too,” Iori says.

“What?” Mitsuki says. “You don’t have to come too, Iori. You’re not actually involved.”

“Someone has to keep Yotsuba-san in check,” Iori reasons. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget.”

Mitsuki hums approvingly. “Oh, that’s fine then. Just don’t fall behind on your homework.”

Iori huffs, and he actually looks like a cute kid for a second. “I’m the perfect student, nii-san. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Mitsuki folds his arms over his chest in a dare. “I will anyway.”

Iori doesn’t look displeased at that.

The near future is much less confusing than whatever he’d seen in that vision anyway. It doesn’t make sense to worry about things he can’t control or understand. What matters is the here and now, with everyone around him and a solid plan to go forward.

He forgets about the opaque, unclear thing called the future.

Chapter Text

Gaku doesn’t know what to think when the heavy wooden door swings open. His mind goes completely blank as his eyes fall upon the person behind the threshold.

Yamato next to him goes rigid, instinctively gripping at Gaku’s hand. It’s as much awareness of his surroundings that Gaku can muster when he’s staring down violet eyes and soft white hair, and as much as he claimed he would live in the present, he can’t help but be thrown into that train station again.

“Sougo-san…” says a disembodied female voice from inside the mansion. “Who are these people? Tamaki-kun is with them, but I don’t recognize the others. Does the master know?”

“Don’t worry,” the person before them answers with a soft, gentle smile. “They’re all my friends.”

“I see. Then I’ll prepare some tea.”

“Sou-chan, let us in already,” Tamaki complains, already pushing past everyone and stomping inside. “You’re so slow.”

“Tamaki-kun, wait—!” Sougo leaves the door open and rushes after him. “I haven’t even introduced myself. There’s a proper order for these things, you know.”

“Who cares about proper?” Tamaki stops to let Sougo catch up to him anyway. “You’re Sou-chan, I’m Tamaki, and that’s Iorin, Gakkun, Mikki, Yama-san, and Nagicchi.”

He points at each of them in turn as they cluster in the doorway, waiting for some kind of invitation inside.

Mitsuki is the first to step inside, pulling Iori along with him. “I’m Izumi Mitsuki, and this is my little brother, Iori.”

“Ah—” Sougo stops pulling at Tamaki and turns to face them, a little sheepish. “I’m Ousaka Sougo. I’ve heard a lot about you already, Mitsuki-san. And Iori-kun, too.”

“Funny,” Mitsuki says, giving Tamaki a Look. “We’ve not heard anything about you.”

“That’s my fault, actually.” Sougo bows his head low. “I asked Tamaki-kun to keep our connection and relationship a secret.”

“Your relationship,” Iori repeats, clenching his jaw.

“The fact that we know each other,” Sougo clarifies.

Iori takes a pointed glance around the fancy home. “Are you embarrassed to be associated with Yotsuba-san?”

“That’s not it!” Sougo says, eyes practically bulging from his head.

Gaku sucks in a breath when attention is drawn back to those eyes. He can barely move, but he still forces himself to look at Yamato. “Nikaidou.”

Yamato doesn’t respond, his hand gripping too tightly at Gaku’s. He’s completely still as he watches Sougo try to defend himself. And Gaku doesn’t blame him. It’s like seeing a ghost.

“It’s him,” Yamato whispers, and Gaku nearly misses it. But they’re so close, and Gaku manages to catch the words that threaten to disappear in the air.

“Yeah.” Gaku speaks just as quietly, the rest of them entirely unaware of what’s going on between them.

“Oh, I did not expect to be invited to such a nice home!” Nagi exclaims, spinning around as he takes in the sights. “It reminds me of my own home.”

“Your home?” Mitsuki sputters, sticking out an arm to stop Nagi. Nagi crashes into the new obstacle and doubles over, wrapping himself around the arm dramatically. “You never told us you were loaded!”

Nagi blinks, righting himself. “I never said I wasn’t. But it is more like my home country. I do not own such a place here in Japan.”

“He has two houses,” Mitsuki says, his voice far away. “He’s rich.”

“He is a popular host, nii-san,” Iori says. “It would make sense that he’s rich.”

Mitsuki puffs out his chest and puts his hands on his hips. “I never really thought about it!”

“Your fartsniffer dad isn’t here, right?” Tamaki asks, peeking through an archway into an impossibly long hallway.

“Tamaki-kun!” Sougo blanches, throwing his hands up to his face. “He’s at work, but even so you can’t just say that!”

Tamaki shrugs, smirking with pride when Nagi giggles into his hand. “I’m just calling him what he is.”

“Tamaki, that’s rude,” Mitsuki scolds, and Sougo looks way too relieved. “You should apologize.”

Tamaki turns up his nose and crosses his arms. “Not gonna apologize for tellin’ the truth. He’s a dick.”

“Tamaki-kun!”

“Should we really stay here?” Iori asks, ignoring all of Sougo’s pleading for Tamaki to be respectful of his elders and all of Tamaki’s insistance on ignoring that cultural rule. “It’s not like we’re here to talk about everyday things. People might overhear us.”

Sougo clears his throat and straightens his posture. “You’re right. Forgive me. Teruko-san will bring the tea to my room, anyway.”

He turns away to lead them up the grand staircase situated on the side of the foyer, and that moment of reprieve is enough to knock some sense into Yamato. Gaku feels it when Yamato jerks violently, sucking in a sharp breath as if he’s just emerged from underwater.

“Are you okay?” Gaku mumbles, hoping that no one will turn around to find them still in the doorway, forgotten in the commotion.

“That’s him,” Yamato repeats, a broken record stuck on a loop. “He’s the guy.”

Gaku nods once. “I know. What are you gonna do? Turn tail and run?”

Yamato glances over at him, his expression strained as he chews on his lip. “I want to.”

“But?” Gaku goads.

“But nothing.” A spark of life returns to Yamato’s eyes.

“You’re seriously the worst.”

“I’m not going to,” Yamato continues. “I already said I was staying. We’ll figure something out.”

Gaku forces a smile even while his face feels tight. “Good.”

He tries to take a step forward, but Yamato holds him firmly in place, nails digging into Gaku’s skin. He might not even be aware of it. “I didn’t expect to meet him so soon. I’ve never had a vision like this. I never knew we might be connected to him.”

“Have you ever seen Yotsuba in one of your visions?”

Yamato shakes his head.

“Maybe it’s connected.”

Yamato lets out a shaky breath. “Maybe. What do we do now?”

“We stop that future from happening.” Gaku’s jaw is set firm and this time he drags Yamato forward despite his resistance.

Mitsuki’s voice cuts off whatever Yamato is about to respond with. “Hey slowpokes, is old age really catching up to you?”

“Sorry,” Yamato grumbles, and then it’s Gaku being dragged along. Yamato still doesn’t let go of his hand, even as they climb the stairs and turn the corner into a massive bedroom that’s probably the size of Gaku’s entire apartment.

It’s then that Nagi peers behind him with raised eyebrows and a knowing stare. “Yamato, you have gotten quite chummy with Gaku today.”

Yamato drops Gaku’s hand and rubs his arm sheepishly. “You’re imagining things.”

Nagi hums a tuneless melody and turns back around. “Ousaka-shi, now that we have you alone, we have several questions for you.”

Sougo looks taken aback by Nagi’s firm tone, and he falls back on a king-sized bed in his efforts to step away. “What kind of questions?”

“You are a witch, are you not?” Nagi points an accusing finger at him.

“Y–yes, I am.” Sougo nods. “And you are as well?”

“Why, I am glad you asked!” Nagi places his hand against his chest in some kind of dramatic self introduction. “I am Rokuya Nagi, the witch with the charm power.”

“Charm power, hm…”

“I bet Sou-chan would have wanted that one,” Tamaki says, picking at his nails as he leans up against a wall.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitsuki raises an eyebrow.

“Tama—”

“He’d want it when he’s going crazy for all sorts’a guys.” Tamaki snickers as he abandons his friend to the ruthless cold of judgment.

Sougo’s face is red when Gaku looks back at him.

“Must be something about witches,” Yamato muses. “They’re all like that.”

Mitsuki scowls. “Speak for yourself.”

“Right, because Mitsu is chaste,” Yamato teases mercilessly. “He only has eyes for Gaku.”

“You shut the fuck up before I kick your ass,” Mitsuki warns, already assuming a fighting stance. Yamato holds his hands up in surrender, but his eyes are sharp and his smirk wicked.

“Tamaki-kun, what kind of people have you acquainted yourself with?” Sougo sighs and lifts a hand to his head. Then in a louder voice, he continues. “My power is telepathy. As you can see, I’m currently linked to Tamaki-kun.”

“Why have you stayed connected for so long?” Iori asks, tone sharp and accusing.

Sougo shifts his eyes to the side. “He’s my friend, and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause your shiteating dad’ll gut you if he finds out you’re still hangin’ around me.” Tamaki scoffs and rolls his eyes overdramatically.

“He didn’t mean that,” Sougo says. “It was a mistake. He apologized for it later.”

Tamaki frowns. “Not to me he didn’t.”

Iori clears his throat. “Putting that aside, I can’t say I trust you, Ousaka-san. I’ve never even heard about you before, and yet you’ve somehow been a pivotal part of Yotsuba-san’s life for almost the entire time that I’ve known him.”

“I’m sorry,” Sougo says, though Gaku can’t entirely figure out what he’s apologizing for.

Iori huffs and turns away. “You aren’t doing anything inappropriate with him, are you?”

“Of course not!” Sougo protests, voice raising by a few octaves. Tamaki gags.

“If you don’t count all the porn Sou-chan reads.”

“Tamaki-kun, please!” Sougo whips his head around so fast Gaku’s surprised he doesn’t break it. “I promise you all it’s not like that!”

Iori’s nose is scrunched up in disgust. “Is that so.”

Sougo buries his head in his hands. “Is this what Tamaki-kun meant by killing witches…?” he laments.

“Huh?” Iori cocks his head to the side.

Souso shift so that a single eye is poking out from between his fingers, staring straight at Iori. “You’re the witch killer, right? Because your presence…”

Tamaki snorts loudly and pushes off the wall, only to drape himself over Iori. “Nah, Iorin doesn’t kill the witches. That’s Gakkun.”

“I was mistaken.” Sougo shifts his gaze toward Gaku. “Are you worse, then?”

“I don’t kill witches!” Gaku protests for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Then what do you do?” Sougo asks. “Forgive me, I don’t actually know a lot about witches.”

“I copy their powers.”

Sougo squints at the brief explanation. “I don’t think I understand how you got your title, then.”

“There’s another one like me who steals powers,” Gaku explains. “Maybe they’re related.”

“I see…” Sougo puts a hand to his chin as he thinks. “And you all have unique powers?”

“Izumi-ani switches bodies, and Nikaidou sees the future,” Gaku says before Yamato can say anything. “There’s another witch who could turn invisible, but the witch killer took his power.”

“So we have five of the witches, including Ousaka,” Mitsuki says, settling onto a small loveseat at the foot of Sougo’s bed. “How many are there total?”

“Seven,” Iori answers, already fishing out his phone. The kid really is studious, always taking way more notes than necessary. He probably has an entire archive about witches on his phone’s notepad app that anyone would kill to get their hands on.

“Two more, then,” Sougo muses, humming to himself. “How have you been finding them up until now? Where could we look to find the remaining two?”

“What if Iorin’s a witch?” Tamaki suggests suddenly, watching him out the corner of his eye for some kind of reaction.

“Impossible,” Iori says smoothly. “There’s no way I could be a witch.”

“How do you know, huh?” Tamaki leans into Iori’s shoulder and pokes his cheek. “Have you kissed someone already? Do you know for sure? Huh? Huh?”

Iori bats the hand away and puffs out his cheeks. “I haven’t, no.”

Tamaki snickers at the confession. “Then how do you know you’re a hundred percent not a witch?”

The room is quiet for a moment. And then Iori lets out a slow breath, fingers gripping too tightly at his phone. “I… am not a hundred percent certain.”

“See!” Tamaki props an elbow onto Iori’s shoulder, leaning in what’s probably too close for Iori’s comfort. “We gotta make sure you’re definitely, absolutely, a hundred percent not a witch then, right? Or we’ll never know. And that means…”

“Tamaki-kun,” Sougo starts, his expression strained. “You can’t just put Iori-kun on the spot like that. Kissing is a very intimate action, so…”

“You’re not my mom, Sou-chan,” Tamaki drones, sticking out his tongue over the top of Iori’s head. “I’m gonna kiss Iorin and you can’t stop me.”

“Wh—?” Iori’s phone drops out of his hands and to the floor. “When did you decide this?!”

“Everyone else is a witch.” Tamaki gestures vaguely around them. “So we gotta.”

“Yotsuba-san…” Iori’s face is an unsightly shade of pink, and he leans backward even as Tamaki comes closer, lips already puckered up for the inevitable kiss. He pushes weakly at Tamaki’s chest, no real strength behind it. “W–we shouldn’t…”

Iori rocks back more and with a wordless yelp falls backward onto the floor. Tamaki follows after, catching himself instinctively before he can land on top of him. But still he hovers over Iori, hands planted on either side of his head and his long hair falling loose around his face.

“Hehe, gotcha,” Tamaki says, and if Iori lets out an embarrassing squeak, they all politely ignore it.

Iori turns his head to the side, but Tamaki follows easily and goes directly in for the kill, pecking him softly, barely, on Iori’s lips.

They’re still for a moment, and then Tamaki grunts. “Nothing happened.”

Iori is beet red when he stammers out, “I—I hardly think that counts as a real kiss. I barely even felt it…”

“Oh, we gotta do it again?” Tamaki leans in again, barely waiting for Iori’s response.

“O–only to make sure!” Iori asserts. “We… we can’t know I’m not a witch unless I kiss you, so… And it has to be a proper one! Or it… won’t work…”

“Mhmm.” Tamaki nods. “I get it, Iorin. It’s research. Hehe.”

“Exactly!” Iori’s voice is higher than usual. “Research. That’s the only reason! Don’t be lazy about it.”

“All right already!” Tamaki’s exasperation carries a note of humor with it as he sighs. “I’m gonna do it then.”

He leans in, slow and cautious, giving Iori plenty of time to back out. And then Iori reaches out and grabs the collar of Tamaki’s shirt, yanks him down, and mashes their lips together so suddenly that Tamaki is the one to shout out this time.

Iori holds him there, enveloped in a kiss, for almost too long. Definitely longer than any of Gaku’s kisses have been. The realization sends a spike of irritation through him.

And when Iori finally lets go and Tamaki pulls away, they’re breathing heavily, watching each other as if they’re the only people in the room.

Which they most definitely aren’t.

“I think I like you,” Iori breathes out like it’s a secret, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world already.

Tamaki giggles, breathy and light. “I know that already, Iorin.”

Mitsuki clears his throat awkwardly, and Iori jumps up so high that he hits his head against Tamaki’s chin.

“Hey!” Tamaki pushes off the floor and throws his hands up to his chin to nurse it, whimpering at the injury. “Rude!”

“Nii-san!” Iori shouts, completely ignoring Tamaki’s whining. “I just—”

Mitsuki holds a hand up to stop him. “I don’t care.”

“But—”

“Nope. I’m not talking about this.” Mitsuki shakes his head firmly.

“But nii-san!” Iori tries again, pressing his palms together as he begs.

“I can’t believe someone like Izumi-otouto gets a boyfriend before I do,” Gaku laments. “And I kiss lots of guys on a regular basis, too! I don’t even know how that worked, it was so embarrassing.”

Yamato pats Gaku on the back reassuringly. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re a whore that you haven’t found someone to settle down with yet.”

“Hey! Nikaidou!” Gaku jerks out of Yamato’s touch and spins around to face him, but Yamato’s already laughing his ass off like he’s just told the funniest joke in the universe. His face is alight with color, and his grin is wide, and he looks so handsome in that moment that Gaku almost forgets why he was pissed off just a second before.

“At this point it’s easier to just ignore everything that guy says,” Mitsuki says with a roll of his eyes. “Since he obviously doesn’t have anything useful to say.”

“Mitsu, that's bullying,” Yamato whines. “You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.”

Yamato reaches out and pulls on Nagi’s sleeve. “Nagi, help me. They’re being mean and I’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

Nagi hums softly as he considers Yamato’s position. “Yamato, that is a lie.”

“Everyone’s against me, then.” Yamato hangs his head and sniffles dramatically.

“I’m, uh. I’m not against you, Nikaidou-san.” Sougo sticks his hand up meekly, a smile wavering on his face as he tries to make heads or tails of whatever the hell's going on.

Yamato visibly stiffens when Sougo speaks, and the antics stop immediately. “Ah, right. My bad.”

He stands up stiff and straight and never once looks at Sougo.

“We should get back to business,” Gaku says, if only to draw attention away from Yamato. “Ousaka. Kiss me.”

Sougo reels back with a squeaky yelp. “Wh–what?”

“Kiss me,” Gaku repeats. Everyone present turns toward him, all their faces contorted into a question. Gaku ignores the attention and forges forward.

“I can’t just—that kind of thing is impossible,” Sougo stammers.

“Why?” Gaku presses. He has no intention of letting this opportunity slip by him.

“I just met you, and—! And I just can’t!” His face is a horrible red, his whole body too rigid to even cover his face.

Gaku doesn’t let up. “You kissed Yotsuba when you didn’t even know him. It’s not like this is your first kiss after all.”

“Mine was,” Mitsuki gripes under his breath. “Asshole.”

“It was an accident! An accident!” Sougo seems to be getting further away, pushing himself backwards on the bed.

“Sou-chan thinks you’re too hot.” Tamaki snickers.

“Tamaki-kun!”

Gaku doesn’t let himself react. He just reaches out and catches one of Sougo’s arms. “Share your power with me, Ousaka.”

“I—”

Sougo doesn’t fight when Gaku leans toward him. So Gaku takes a breath and closes the gap.

Sougo yelps when their lips meet, but the sound is quashed almost instantly, turned into a low, throaty moan. He buckles under Gaku’s touch, falling backward on the bed. And he drags Gaku down with him, tugging at his shirt to maintain contact.

Gaku ends up on top of him, chests pressed against each other, Gaku’s knee slotted perfectly between Sougo’s thighs. Sougo’s tongue flicks across Gaku’s bottom lip.

“Oh my god, he’s doing it again,” Tamaki says, but it’s all background noise at this point. Because there’s a little niggling in his brain, a feeling of fullness as he kisses Sougo, and Gaku wonders if this is what telepathy is like, if he’ll get used to this feeling with time.

Oh my god.

For a moment, Gaku wonders how Sougo can speak when his lips are locked with Gaku’s.

Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

When he realizes Sougo’s lips are definitely not moving, the realization dawns on him.

He’s hearing Sougo’s thoughts.

“Of course you’re hearing Sou-chan’s thoughts,” Tamaki says with a huff. “I am too, so can you cut it out already?”

Sougo’s eyes fly open and he pushes both hands into Gaku’s chest, practically throwing him off the bed and onto the floor. He winces when Gaku hits the plush rug too hard. “I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gaku says with a wave of his hand. He has the other one rubbing at his ass, nursing the bruise he already feels forming.

“You—” Sougo wipes his long sweater sleeve across his mouth. “You kissed me!”

Gaku frowns up at him. “I’m pretty sure at this point it’s the other way around.”

“You okay?” Mitsuki asks, and hey, there are other people in the room that aren’t just him, Sougo, and Tamaki. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

But Mitsuki puts his hand out to help Gaku up, even while his frown and furrowed brow are more than obvious. Still, Gaku accepts the offer and lets Mitsuki pull him up. “Thanks.”

Mitsuki’s lips pull down even more, a feat Gaku hadn’t thought possible. “Sure.”

Gaku feels like he’s done something horribly wrong, and as he glances from Mitsuki to Yamato to Nagi and sees equal expressions of displeasure on their faces, he’s not sure how to proceed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, since there’s no better way to find out what’s on someone’s mind than to ask.

Yamato looks away. “Nothing.”

“Yeah…” Mitsuki rubs the back of his neck. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

Nagi nods along in agreement. “It was like something I would see at my club.”

“Your whore club,” Yamato amends, just to drive home the very particular brand of kissing they had apparently displayed.

“Yes! Exactly.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Gaku insists. “Ousaka just fell, so—”

God, his pecs.

“What?” Gaku whips around, only to find Sougo sitting totally prim and proper on the edge of his bed. Even so, he could have sworn he’d heard his voice.

His ass, oh my god. I have to touch it again.

Did Sougo even touch his ass a first time? Gaku can’t remember. His hand slides down his side almost subconsciously, as if checking to make sure there’s not a dent or some other stupid reason.

Oh my god I want him to touch me like that.

“What are you saying?” Gaku growls, and Sougo jumps in surprise, seemingly innocent.

“What?” Nagi looks around, blissfully oblivious to the things Gaku is hearing.

“You. Ousaka.” He points at him, just in case it wasn’t obvious enough who he’s talking to.

“Is this the… telepathy thing?” Mitsuki guesses.

“Me?” Sougo asks in a tiny voice, like he’s a child being scolded by his parents. Like he isn’t thinking obscene things about Gaku right at this very minute.

“What are you thinking?” Gaku taps on his own head to emphasize his point. “What’s—why are you—?”

Tamaki sighs loudly and pointedly. “You get used to it.”

“Get used to what?” Iori asks, looking worriedly between the three of them.

“Usually it’s not this loud, though.” Tamaki leans against Iori like he’s a pillar of emotional support. “Gakkun, you absolutely can’t kiss Sou-chan again or I’ll never get to sleep tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Gaku cries helplessly.

“I second that,” Yamato says, raising a hand in the air.

Just shut up.

“Huh?!” Gaku shouts.

Just fuck me already.

“Holy shit, I can’t do this anymore,” Tamaki says, burying his head into the crook of Iori’s neck. “Iorin, save me.”

“From what?” Iori asks, but even so he lifts a hand and shakily pats Tamaki on his shoulder.

“We have to kill Gakkun.”

A chorus of unintelligible protests spring from Yamato, Mitsuki, and Nagi, and somehow they manage to form some kind of barricade around Gaku with their bodies.

“It’s easier when I don’t know who Sou-chan’s going nuts over, but this is just annoying,” Tamaki laments. “Iorin, buy me pudding to cope.”

Iori straightens his posture. “Why should I do that?”

“‘Cause we’re boyfriends now, hehe.” To prove his point, he turns his head just enough to plant a small, chaste kiss on Iori’s cheek.

Iori’s knees buckle, and he just barely catches himself before he sends both him and Tamaki crashing to the floor.

“Y–Yotsuba-san, you can’t just do that so suddenly!” Iori says, stumbling over his words.

“Why not?” Tamaki pokes his bottom lip out in a pout. “You like it, don’t you?”

“But in public…”

“So what? Sou-chan doesn’t care that other people can hear him being horny, so I don’t have to care if other people see me kiss my boyfriend.” He draws out the word and kisses Iori again before narrowing his eyes at Sougo.

“It’s not like that,” Sougo tries to reassure everyone, holding his hands up as if he’s already being prosecuted.

“I guarantee you it’s absolutely like that,” Gaku grunts. “I can hear your thoughts now.” He gestures at his head again to emphasize that unfortunate fact.

He tries to reason that it’s for a good cause, but really he wants nothing more than to mash his face against Sougo’s one more time and put an end to this whole thing.

Oh shit.

“You can?” Sougo says, eyes widening in horrified realization.

“I kissed you, after all.” Gaku shakes his head and backtracks. “Actually, you’re definitely the one who kissed me.”

“I didn’t think it was going to work…” Sougo turns into himself and tugs at the sleeve of his sweater as he thinks.

So that would mean both Tamaki-kun and Yaotome-san can hear my thoughts.

Yes, Sou-chan, we’ve been over this.

Gaku jumps at the new voice in his head.

Leave me alone, I’m tryin’ to be cute with Iorin.

“Gaku, are you okay?” Gaku blinks, and there’s a hand waving in front of his face. The hand connects to Nagi, who’s watching him with curious eyes.

Gaku shakes his head to clear it, but he can’t get rid of the feeling that it’s suddenly too crowded up there. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You stopped responding,” Nagi says. He puts a hand on Gaku’s shoulder, an act of comfort that leaves Gaku feeling weirdly warm. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yeah, you totally spaced out,” Mitsuki adds.

“I was, uh.” Gaku points at his head. “They’re talking. In my head.”

“Sounds rough,” Yamato says, lifting his eyebrow. “Both of them? So what, it’s a three-way connection now?”

Gaku nods. “It must be.”

“I had no idea a connection could be made between more than two people,” Sougo muses. “This visit was helpful, then. I’ve learned a lot about my own power thanks to you, Yaotome-san.”

And I’ll have plenty more exploring to do tonight, too.

Gaku closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose at the feral tone Sougo uses in his thoughts.

He’s definitely not going to get used to this.

Chapter Text

Yamato is the one who slides open the door to Mitsuki’s room when Gaku knocks. He blinks, surprised, and trails his eyes over Gaku’s body as if it’s his first time seeing him. “Oh, it’s Gaku.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gaku grumbles, pushing past Yamato and into the room. Nagi is there too, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a pillow in his lap, paused midway through talking animatedly about something. His hands are in the air and his cheeks are pink with humor, and Gaku can’t help the sudden ache in his chest.

So annoying.

“Shut up,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

“Huh?” Yamato asks, peering closely at him.

Gaku shakes his head. “Nothing, not you.” Yamato looks doubtful.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Mitsuki observes kindly from his own seat on the bed. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Gaku tries and fails to count the minutes of actual sleep he got before he gives up entirely. “Not really. The whole telepathy thing is hard to get used to.”

Nagi pats a spot on the bed in front of him. “Come lay down then, Gaku. It must be difficult.”

Mitsuki snorts sarcastically, but even so he moves over to give Gaku ample room to sit down. “It’s his own fault. He’s the one who went in for the kiss.”

Gaku forces down the spike of irritation that prickles at his skin and settles down in between them. “It’s just harder to control than I thought it would be.”

“You still didn’t have to kiss him,” Mitsuki says, wrinkling his nose a little.

Nagi pats the pillow on his lap this time. “Oh, Gaku, lay down. You look worse up close.”

Gaku levels a gaze at him. “Thanks.”

“There is no shame in that,” Nagi continues. “Not everyone can look as beautiful as me when they have had little sleep.”

Gaku can’t stop the bubble of laughter that forces its way out. “I’d like to see you at your worst, Rokuya. You’d still probably be more beautiful than most people.”

“But of course!” Nagi flashes a wicked smile at him, and Gaku’s heart rate picks up to dangerous speeds. “Now lay down and rest.”

“You do look like you’re gonna collapse any minute,” Mitsuki says as he looks over him. “You can put your legs on me.”

“And your head on me!”

Gaku thinks there’s something weirdly intimate about their suggestions, but they say it all so casually, so naturally that Gaku finds himself sinking down onto the bed without another thought. His head settles into Nagi’s lap, his legs draped over Mitsuki’s, and he thinks this feels natural, the warmth around him comforting.

Nagi settles a gentle hand in Gaku’s hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands, and Gaku holds his breath, not sure he could let it out even if he tried to.

Yamato crosses the room in a few long strides and observes them with a scrutinizing eye. “Well now there’s no room for me anymore.”

“You don’t look like you’re about to pass out,” Mitsuki counters. “Do you want me to scoot over a little, though? If you’re fine with Gaku’s legs on you, that is.”

Yamato’s response is instant. “Sure, that’s fine.”

Gaku is shifted around carelessly for a moment, and then there’s two pairs of legs under his as Yamato settles into the spot near the end of the bed.

“You’re so long,” Mitsuki says.

“You should know that by now,” Gaku counters. “You’ve used my body enough.”

“Being in it and watching it are two different things.” Mitsuki rests his arms on Gaku’s legs, fingers picking at his jeans. “Hey, why did you do it, anyway?”

“Do what?” Gaku grunts, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open with every stroke of Nagi’s long fingers through his hair.

“Kiss Ousaka.”

“Oh, that.” Gaku hesitates, not sure what will transfer over the bond he now shares with Tamaki and Sougo. He has to be careful if he doesn’t want them to worry, after all.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Yamato says. “He’s keeping tabs on him.”

“What?” Nagi’s fingers still.

“You can’t say it because they’ll hear, right?” Yamato pokes at Gaku’s leg. “So just keep quiet.”

“A secret operation,” Nagi mutters.

“He’s watching Ousaka to see if there are any changes in his thoughts,” Yamato explains. “So we can be there to stop him if he tries anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitsuki asks.

“Ousaka’s the guy from our vision,” Yamato explains. “There’s no mistaking it.”

“Him?!” Mitsuki jumps, jostling Gaku around on the bed with him. “He’s the one who—?”

“Yeah.” Gaku nods once, stiffly.

“What a cruel world this is,” Nagi laments. He twirls a few strands of Gaku’s hair around his finger. “What are his motives?”

“No idea,” Gaku says, ignoring the look Yamato gives him. “He seems pretty normal so far. He’s at his internship right now, but he’s already been to three college classes this morning. He’s got a tight schedule.”

“Plenty of people are like that, though.” Mitsuki hums thoughtfully. “What makes him so different?”

“It’s too early to tell,” Gaku says. “And it’s hard to figure out when most of his thoughts are entirely drowned out. Yotsuba keeps blasting rock music in our heads, though. It woke me up this morning and kept me up last night.”

“That kind of thing gets transmitted?” Yamato asks.

Gaku shrugs as much as he can while lying down. Even now, the background noise of a soft rock song plays endlessly in his head. “I guess so. Some things get sent over, and sometimes there’s complete silence. I can’t tell how it works and neither Ousaka or Yotsuba will tell me how to figure it out.”

“They probably don’t want you in their heads, after all,” Mitsuki says. “They’ve been doing this for a year, and now you’re suddenly there too. It’s gotta be weird.”

“It’s weird for me, too.” Gaku’s lip curls.

“You are like their parasite,” Nagi says, resting his hand for a moment but still keeping it entwined in Gaku’s hair. “A vicious leech attaching yourself onto their brains and sucking away at the knowledge contained within.”

Gaku’s nose wrinkles. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Nagi’s not wrong, though,” Yamato says. “You’re not part of their little… whatever they wanna call it. It makes sense that they’d wanna keep you at a distance.”

“I guess so.” Gaku doesn’t have to like it, though. “I’m just here to listen in, though. I don’t have any plans to interfere in their lives.”

“Unless Ousaka tries to jump,” Mitsuki adds.

Gaku nods.

He feels Mitsuki deflate underneath him. “Man, this whole thing just got way more stressful. My stomach hasn’t been sitting right all day.”

“Did you eat properly, Mitsuki?” Nagi asks.

“Well,” Mitsuki hedges. “I was kinda too upset to eat.”

“At me?” Gaku suddenly feels too vulnerable in this position, but he’s far too exhausted to do anything about it.

“Well, yeah!” Mitsuki pounds his fist into Gaku’s leg, but it’s gentle, lacking any real irritation. “Where do you get off, just kissing any witch that comes around?”

“That’s kinda been on par for him, hasn’t it?” Yamato asks, his smirk subtle but knowing. “He’s kissed you, Nagi, Me, and now Ousaka.”

“He didn’t kiss Yuki-san,” Mitsuki protests in a much smaller voice.

Gaku frowns. “I didn’t exactly want to turn invisible.”

“So it’s fine if it’s just the three of us?” Yamato guesses, his smirk growing wider. There’s something loaded in his question, but Gaku can’t figure out what.

Mitsuki groans loudly, falling back into the wall behind him. “Shut up! It’s already done, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Oh, but you are still upset, Mitsuki.” Nagi untangles his hand from Gaku’s hair and reaches over to poke Mitsuki’s cheek. “That kind of stress will only give you premature wrinkles.”

Mitsuki waves the hand away. “You’re annoying, too.”

Nagi’s face contorts into an overexaggerated pout. “No! Mitsuki!”

Mitsuki ignores him. “It’s true that when witches kiss each other nothing happens, right?”

Yamato’s eyebrows raise. “Why? You reconsidering my offer?”

“I’ll smack you.” Mitsuki rolls his eyes. “But I guess I’m just wondering since, if that’s the case, our prospects are kinda limited, aren’t they? It’s not like I wanna switch bodies with my future boyfriend every time we kiss.”

Nagi’s eyes twinkle. “It could add some interesting spice to your relationship, though!”

“Stop that.”

“No wait, he has a point,” Yamato says, putting a finger to Mitsuki’s lips. “Let him speak.”

Mitsuki grabs the finger and jerks it away. “You guys are gross.”

Gaku snorts as he watches them. “You guys are interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitsuki scowls down at them. “Don’t put me in the same category as these two perverts.”

Gaku’s smile comes easy, seeing a tiny spark of humor in Mitsuki’s eye despite his harsh words. “I dunno. You three being together, it just feels natural. I like watching you interact.”

Yamato sucks in a deep breath. He looks like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet, not even opening his mouth.

“Says the guy using Nagi’s lap as a pillow,” Mitsuki breathes out in a sigh. “I guess we’ve all gotten a lot closer because of this whole witch thing.”

“We wouldn’t have met without them,” Yamato says. “It’s like fate, or something.”

“Listen to you, talking about fate and stuff like a fortune teller.” Mitsuki nudges Yamato in the side, giggling a little at Yamato’s scowl. “You really take this witch stuff seriously.”

“It’s kinda hard not to!” Yamato protests weakly. “It affects our lives quite a bit, you know.”

Mitsuki pauses mid-nudge. “Ah right, you can see the future, so it’s different from what we get, right?”

Yamato’s expression is strained when he responds. “Yeah, something like that.”

“It must be hard knowing what comes next,” Nagi says, reaching over to poke Yamato’s cheek, too.

Yamato just lets it happen. He laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t get all the details, though. So it’s not so bad. And it’s not like it’s all doom and gloom all the time.”

“Do you see good visions too?” Nagi asks, leaning in a little. His stomach presses into Gaku’s head. It’s warm and somehow not uncomfortable.

“Well, yeah.” Yamato drops his hand onto Gaku’s leg. “That’s how they all started out. It was about a year ago when I kissed my girlfriend at the time and had my first vision. I didn’t really know what was going on, but the more I kissed her, the more I saw.”

“What kinda things do you see?” Mitsuki asks.

Yamato shrugs. “Anything, really. And it’s always from the perspective of the person I kiss. So I started kissing a lot of different people.”

“And you call me the whore,” Gaku mutters under his breath.

“Takes one to know one.” Yamato’s smirk is wide and taunting.

Mitsuki breathes out a chuckle. “At least he’s self-aware.”

“I know what kinda person I am.” Yamato throws an arm around Mitsuki and pulls him close. “And I’m not about to deny myself the good things in life.”

Mitsuki levels a heatless glare at him. “Yet you’re here, in my room in the middle of a Saturday, when you could be anywhere else enjoying ‘the good things in life.’ That makes sense.”

Yamato folds his arms behind his neck and leans back against the wall. “Hey, hey, I can’t think of anything better to do with my time than to spend it here with you.”

“Sure, sure, I’m sure you have nothing better to do.” Mitsuki looks pointedly at Yamato, calling bullshit with his eyes alone.

“Yamato was a hikikomori for a long time, after all,” Nagi says helpfully. He says it so innocently, and yet Yamato’s face downturns into a nasty scowl at it. “Maybe he really does have nothing better to do!”

“Hey, Nagi, don’t bully me like that,” Yamato warns.

“I would not dream of bullying you, Yamato.” Nagi places a sincere hand over his heart, the other falling back into Gaku’s hair.

Something about their bickering is soothing, and Gaku finds his eyes drifting closed again. The song playing on loop in his head reaches its end with a long decrescendo, and he sighs, expecting it to start up again for the millionth time that day.

He finds it weird when his head is finally silent.

Whatever question he'd been forming is answered instantly when the door to Mitsuki’s room is thrown open and heavy feet pound into the room with a loud, wordless exclamation.

“Yotsuba-san!” Iori comes rushing in after Tamaki, hair disheveled and chest heaving.

“Mikki! I missed you!” Tamaki yells, completely ignoring Iori’s protests. An earbud dangles limply from his shoulder.

“Whoa! Tamaki, Iori, you’re already back from your date?” Mitsuki moves as if he’s trying to get up, but Gaku’s legs hold him firmly in place.

“It wasn’t—” Iori coughs into his hand. “It wasn’t a date.”

“It totally was.” Tamaki’s grin is wide and toothy. Then he catches sight of Gaku, and that grin falls flat. “Ah. Gakkun. You’re here.”

“What’s that kinda tone for?” Gaku growls.

“No reason,” Tamaki sing-songs.

“It’s definitely not no reason.” Gaku glares at Tamaki when he snickers. A glance around the room, though, tells him that it had all been in his head, and the others are left unaware of Tamaki’s wicked ways.

Tamaki has already moved on, in fact, fishing through his pockets only to produce a small rabbit keychain, which he dangles from his fingers like a hypnotist in the middle of a performance. It seems to be working, too, as Iori’s eyes follow the charm unblinking, the little pink bunny swaying side to side.

“What a cute little charm!” Mitsuki gushes, leaning forward onto Gaku’s legs.

He can’t get enough of this cute shit. It’s just like him.

Are you showing them the charm you bought Iori-kun?

“Did you get that for Iori?” Nagi’s tone is knowing, the question already answered for him just in Iori’s blush.

Uh-huh. I’m gonna get him so many little bunny toys he’s gonna be buried in them.

Gaku presses a hand over his ear, like that’ll to anything to quiet the voices screaming in his head.

“I don’t know what possessed Yotsuba-san to think I’d like something like this…” Iori mumbles, but he reaches out and grabs the keychain anyway. “But if it’s a present, I suppose I can keep it.”

I’m sure he’ll appreciate that… Ah, I have to go back to work now. My father’s coming past this way.

“Put it on your bag so everyone can see it,” Tamaki suggests, snaking an arm around Iori’s shoulders and pulling him close.

Tch—trip him on his way by.

Sougo doesn’t answer with any coherent words, but a sense of alarm drowns Gaku’s senses for a moment. Seeing the grimace just barely visible on Tamaki’s face, Gaku suspects he felt it just as well.

Iori inspects the bunny charm, turning it over in his hand. “That’s—that’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“Nah. Gimme.” Tamaki snatches the charm out of his hands.

“Yotsuba-san!”

He ignores Iori’s protests, waving them off with a lazy hand. He disappears out the door and turns a corner, leaving Iori standing in the middle of Mitsuki’s room with his mouth open, the other four watching the display curiously.

“What’s he up to?” Yamato asks into the ensuing quiet.

There it is!

“I know exactly what he’s doing…” Gaku groans and presses a second hand to his ear, but the thoughts get no quieter.

Tamaki-kun, don’t get yourself in any trouble.

Calm down mom, I’m not doing anything bad.

Gaku groans, and Nagi pats his head comfortingly even if he definitely has no idea what’s going on.

Still—

I said I’m not so don’t worry about it.

His head is quiet for a moment, and then:

Okay. I won’t.

Gaku hears Tamaki’s delighted giggle ringing through his head before he hears the echo of it out loud, and he comes pounding back down the hall, a little jingle following him the entire way.

And then he bursts back into the room and holds up Iori’s schoolbag, the little pink bunny charm hanging off of one of the buckles. “I found it!”

“Why did you—?” Iori shakes his head and grabs at the bag, but Tamaki lifts it high above his head.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head as Iori jumps for the bag once, twice, each time the strap just barely out of his reach. “If you want it you gotta kiss me first.”

“Haven’t we done that enough?!” Iori stands on his tip-toes and reaches, leaning so far into Tamaki that he pushes them both into the wall behind them. Still, Tamaki skillfully keeps the bag out of reach.

“Nope. There’s never ever enough kisses,” Tamaki says, pucking his lips and making a few kissing noises to emphasize his point.

You’d know all about that, huh, Gakkun.

Despite the dig at him, it lacks any real malice to it.

“If you’re gonna kiss my little brother, do it somewhere else.” Mitsuki’s voice is firm, and when Gaku looks back at him his mouth is pressed into a thin frown. “I’m not interested in seeing that.”

Tamaki giggles. “Come on then, Iorin. We can be alone in your room.”

Mitsuki jumps, but he’s still locked in on all sides, completely trapped on the bed. “I spoke too soon, hang on—!”

“The only thing we’re going to do in my room is study,” Iori says without room for argument. “Please give my bag back, Yotsuba-san.”

Tamaki’s grin falls, but only a little. “Promise you won’t take it off.”

Iori hesitates, staring a little too long at the keychain. “Fine. But I’m going to move it to a different spot.”

“Don’t be so embarrassed,” Tamaki whines, but he drops his arm and lets Iori grab it out of his hand.

Iori turns away so no one can see him. “I’m not embarrassed.”

He’s totally embarrassed. You see it too, right, Gakkun?

Aha… I wish I could be there to see it. It sounds like you’re all having fun.

Too bad you’re working, then.

Yeah…

The note of jealousy tinging Sougo’s thoughts leaves Gaku’s chest feeling heavy, and he finds himself nuzzling just a little closer into Nagi’s thigh. Nagi responds almost instantly, fingers playing absentmindedly with Gaku’s hair.

“Come on, Yotsuba-san,” Iori says, tugging at Tamaki’s sleeve. His face is still hidden by his bangs as he pulls Tamaki out of Mitsuki’s bedroom.

Yamato chuckles. “Don’t have too much fun, kids.” Iori yelps and hurries away faster, Tamaki howling with laughter behind him.

“Can it, old man.” Mitsuki elbows Yamato in his ribcage. “I’ll never forgive you if you corrupt my precious little brother.”

“What? Me?” Yamato presses a hand to his chest. “I’d never dream of doing something like that.”

“He is a teenage boy, Mitsuki,” Nagi says, placing a consoling hand on Mitsuki’s shoulder. “Those urges are quite common.”

“Gah!” Mitsuki shouts wordlessly, throwing his arms wide and knocking Nagi’s hand off of him. “Shut up! I don’t wanna think about that kinda thing!”

“Mitsu is pure, after all,” Yamato teases. His expression is soft as he watches Mitsuki for his reaction, mouth quirked up in a tiny smile even as he pushes all the right buttons.

Gaku’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches him, and from this angle he can’t help but think that Yamato, too, is ridiculously handsome. His expressions are full of life, like he’s glowing from the inside out.

His chest feels warm as he watches him.

Shut up, Gakkun. You’re being annoying again.

This kind of thing is natural, Tamaki-kun. You shouldn’t be so hard on him. You’ve felt these kinds of things before too, after all.

It’s gross when he does it, though. I’m different.

Gaku grimaces, the warmth in his chest dissipating all at once.

You two actually feel quite similar…

Shut up shut up shut up shut up, don’t compare me to him!

Ah—sorry. I won’t.

It was a joke… Don’t be so gloomy, Sou-chan.

I’m not! Please don’t worry about me.

It’s hard not to, Gaku thinks. Especially when he knows what he knows.

Not you too, Yaotome-san. I’m quite all right.

He tries to project a thought to Sougo, but he still can’t figure out exactly how this power works. What thoughts are transmitted, what thoughts are kept concealed, it’s all too difficult to understand without guidance. He wonders how Sougo and Tamaki got so good at it.

Sou-chan made me practice too much.

Gaku can nearly feel Tamaki’s grimace on his own face.

You didn’t want to kiss me again; what else were we supposed to do?

Why would I wanna kiss you again?! I’ve got a boyfriend now for that kinda thing.

There’s a pause during which Gaku finds he can breathe again, and he lets out a sigh that has him melting into the three men underneath him.

Ah, right. It’s in the past, anyway. Please forget about it.

“Are they talking to you or something?” Mitsuki asks, peering down at him.

Nagi leans over him, hair coming loose from behind his ear and hanging around his face like a halo. “You have been quiet.”

You’re both so annoying. Stop apologizing all the time, Sou-chan, and stop being so lovey-dovey, Gakkun.

Gaku freezes, stiffening so suddenly that Nagi’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “Gaku?”

“Did Ousaka say—think something weird?” Yamato guesses. His hand wraps around Gaku’s leg and grips hard, and even through the fabric of his jeans Gaku can feel his warmth.

He can feel everything, actually. He’s too aware of the position he’s in now. His head is too close to Nagi’s crotch. His ass is in Mitsuki’s lap. Yamato’s hands are somehow too intimately caressing his legs. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it seems so obvious now.

Is he only now just realizing it, Sou-chan? He really is dumb.

You shouldn’t say things like that…

Gaku can barely process their thoughts over his own. He doesn’t even have the mind to worry that they’re being directly transmitted to those two—not that he’d be able to stop it anyway.

There’s a cool hand pressing against his face now, and it does nothing to stop the screaming in his head. “You’re all red,” Mitsuki says, lips curled down in a frown as he leans toward him. Too close. “It must have been bad.”

“I’m—” Gaku chokes out. “I’m fine.”

He’s so not fine.

Tamaki’s laughter echoes in his head, and it seems strangely appropriate for the situation he’s found himself in.

“You do not look fine,” Nagi insists, placing a cool hand on Gaku’s forehead. Gaku swallows, unable to stop himself from staring into Nagi’s endlessly blue eyes. His heart thumps in his chest, and hips lips part against his volition.

Is this what it feels like, then, to be in love?

His sweaty palms, his pounding heart, his hitched breath—it should all be so much more uncomfortable than it really is. There’s a heat in his chest that spreads outward to his fingertips and his toes and his ears and it feels like it’s the middle of July when it’s really only early spring.

Gaku’s skin prickles, his fingers curl—they catch on Mitsuki’s shirt and pull him closer, unintentionally but not unwelcome, and the frown on Mitsuki’s face says enough about what he thinks about being jerked around like this.

Still, he leans over until his elbows rest on Gaku’s thigh, never once looking away. Gaku’s eyes flicker to his lips, then back up.

Oh, god, he’s kissed those lips. And Nagi’s, and Yamato’s. He’s kissed them all. And he’s only just now realizing what that means.

Maybe he’s had a crush or two before. He’s not totally ignorant in this field. And yet…

And yet, everything seems different this time. Not least because of this situation, with his feelings flowing outward in three different directions all at once, as if emotion is something limitless and without end.

This is a crush, he determines as he finally lets go of Mitsuki’s shirt. It’s a crush, and he’s fallen for three men. Men he’s already kissed.

“Should I go check on Tamaki…?” Mitsuki guesses. “Make sure nothing’s wrong.”

“I can do it,” Yamato offers, already shifting Gaku’s legs so he can stand. Nagi grabs onto Gaku’s shoulders, as if he’ll fly away if he lets go.

Gaku feels lightheaded. “Don’t.”

Leave us alone, Gakkun. We’re having fun.

“Don’t?” Yamato repeats, pausing with one arm suspending Gaku’s leg in midair.

That’s a little rude, Tamaki-kun. They’re just concerned, after all.

“I’m fine,” Gaku forces out. “I just. I realized something. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Nagi repeats, fingers digging into Gaku’s shirt.

I don’t need anyone to be concerned about me or you or whatever.

Gaku nods. “That’s all.”

This is so annoying.

Slowly, Yamato lets Gaku’s leg fall back onto his lap, and he settles back onto the mattress. “If you say so.”

“Wouldn’t you know if something’s seriously wrong, though?” Mitsuki asks, poking at Yamato’s side. “You can see the future, after all.”

…Sorry. I said something unnecessary.

Yamato holds up his hands in defense. “I can’t see everything.”

I’m hanging out with Iorin right now, so leave us alone, okay?

“I guess that’s true,” Mitsuki mumbles, chewing on his lip. Light from the window streams in and catches his hair in a fiery halo that suddenly feels more significant than it should be. Or perhaps Gaku is just paying more attention to it now.

“Then what can you see?” Nagi shifts a little so that he’s leaning forward, his belly pressing ever so slightly into Gaku’s hair. “Do you see me with a beautiful girl in the future?”

Yamato scoffs and pushes Nagi away, hand shoved into his cheeks. “Even if I could, I’d have to see the vision from your perspective, and our powers don’t work on other witches.”

All right. I’ll stop bothering you.

Nagi whines something insincere and slumps back, throwing his hands around Gaku’s shoulders in a kind of half-hearted embrace. “How disappointing. I will have to keep looking on my own, then.”

“Maybe what you’re looking for is closer than you think,” Yamato says, looking away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitsuki pokes at Yamato’s arm, like he’s a machine that’ll spit out answers if he keeps pressing buttons. “Are you saying you really do know something about our future?”

Yamato jerks and shakes his head a little too quickly. “No! I already said, right? I can only see things from the perspective of the person I kiss. Why would I know anything about you?”

Mitsuki’s lips pull into a grimace. “You’re so damn vague about everything, it’s annoying!” He nudges his shoulder into Yamato, knocking him over on the bed. But still, there’s no real heat in it, and even Mitsuki’s face twitches upward into a triumphant smirk that sends Gaku’s heart racing.

Sorry for being in your way.

There’s a tinge of something in Sougo’s thoughts, but Gaku isn’t nearly skilled enough in telepathy to understand it. If it were something to worry about, though, Tamaki would have noticed something.

Right?

“All right, what can I get y—”

Gaku breaks off when he turns around and sees Sougo sitting on the stool. It’s unexpected, and Gaku nearly drops his pen as he looks him over.

“Yaotome-san,” Sougo greets. His lips are pulled into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the crease. “Good evening.”

“Ousaka.” Gaku nods. “What brings you here?”

“Tamaki-kun told me your family shop has delicious soba,” Sougo says as he looks around. “I wanted to try it for myself.”

“Oh!” Gaku fumbles with the pen and notepad in his hand. “Then what can I get you?”

Sougo thinks for a moment, scanning the menu board behind the counter. Then all at once, he slumps over with a sigh. “Sorry, that was a lie.”

“A lie?”

Sougo adjusts his position and drags a large black case up so that Gaku can see it over the counter. “I came to drop this off.”

Gaku peers at it, leaning over the counter so he can get a better look. It’s large, black, and leather, bound in a funny shape that Gaku can’t discern with the bustle of the dinner rush mangling his thoughts. “What is it?”

“Back in high school, I was in a band,” Sougo says by way of explanation. “Briefly, that is. I wrote the music.”

“Sure.” Gaku doesn’t get it.

Sougo gestures to the case. “This is my guitar. I’ve thrown everything else out since that time, but for some reason I couldn’t get rid of this.”

“Why’d you throw it out?” Gaku asks. “Didn’t enjoy it? Bad breakup?”

Sougo laughs humorlessly, waving his free hand in the air. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I had to quit the band to study, and then I started college and my internship at my father’s company.”

“But you liked it?”

“Of course. Music has always been my passion.” Sougo’s fist clenches around the handle of the guitar case.

“Then why didn’t you pursue it?” Gaku feels something in his chest, but he can’t tell if it’s his own feelings or someone else’s thoughts.

“It wasn’t in the cards,” Sougo says with a shrug, as if it were the natural explanation. “Not for the son of a CEO.”

“That’s bullshit,” Gaku says under his breath. “If you liked it, you should have kept at it.”

Sougo shakes his head. “There’s no way. If I had, I probably would have been disowned. And besides, it hasn’t been that bad. I’ve learned valuable skills, and I’m good at my job and I get good grades, and Tamaki is—”

Sougo looks away, and when he doesn’t say anything, Gaku does. “Yotsuba?”

“Um,” Sougo hedges, still not looking at him. “Never mind. Yaotome-san, can I ask you a favor?”

Gaku tries and fails to keep up with Sougo’s pace. “Sure, what is it?”

“Even in the end, I can’t bring myself to get rid of this guitar. Would you mind holding onto it? Tamaki-kun wouldn’t want it.” He hoists the case further up as if to accentuate his point.

“I don’t mind, but…” Gaku’s thoughts spin in his head. “Is there something I’m missing? We barely know each other; are you sure you want me to hang onto it?”

Sougo laughs again. “Truthfully, there was another reason I came by tonight. So it’s just more convenient this way.”

“Another reason?”

Sougo stands and meets Gaku halfway over the counter, pressing their lips together in a soft, quick kiss. It’s fast—they’re still in public, after all—and the world never even has the chance to slow down before Sougo is pulling away, both hands clasped in front of him. “Thank you for doing this, Yaotome-san. You don’t know how much it means to me.”

“Uh.” Gaku runs his fingers across his lips, as if to see if that kiss actually happened. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, and… one more thing, please.” Sougo turns away, back to the counter as he makes to leave. “I’m sorry to keep troubling you, but would you mind not telling Tamaki-kun about this?”

Gaku doesn’t even have a chance to respond before Sougo’s gone, the noren fluttering in a nonexistent breeze.