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There’s nothing abnormal about the days Toya goes home alone. Nothing usually, that is.
While he does admit that he doesn’t leave the school campus alone on most days, his partner always by his side, the days that he does walk alone aren’t so out of the ordinary. It’s usually because Toya has to stay behind to take care of something from the library committee, or maybe it’s his partner that has to complete make-up exams that he convinced Toya he actually studied for—in which that “studying” was cramming all of the information the morning of the exam as he was walking into the school building. Either way, it was nothing but a simple walk home.
The autumn winds were cool, thin air comforting him both in his lungs and across his skin. He looks to the sky spotted with a few little specks of white, taking in the gentle scenery—but that’s when he notices it.
Something floats down from the upper corner of his eye. He turns his head to catch sight of it, anticipating it to be a beautiful bird soaring through the sky, but all he’s met with is a plane.
A paper one.
A paper plane floats carelessly towards the front of the school, and it crashes to the floor a good couple of feet away from the building. He wouldn’t have minded it if it were as simple as someone throwing a paper airplane; it wasn’t uncommon for anyone to do, really, and from what he’s seen, it's quite fun.
The only issue, however, is that when Toya inches closer to the landing spot of the airplane, he notices a pile of them right next to it. He freezes to stare at the sight: an unnecessarily huge amount of paper airplanes on the floor outside of the school, some neatly folded and others lazily put together, all stacked into a loose pile that’s about to fly away from the wind.
There’s a small bit of him that feels uneasy with meddling with the bundle of planes, but the bigger part of him knows he can’t just leave all of this paper here. So he crumples all of the planes into a huge ball of paper and dumps them all into the nearest trash can.
Then he actually starts his walk home. He doesn’t come to dwell on the odd occurrence for long, since he’s sure it’ll never turn into something greater, so he simply and easily forgets about it.
Until it kept happening, that is.
And now every day Toya walks home alone, no matter the reason, there’s always a paper airplane or two being thrown into the air (from inside the school, he can only deduce) and landing on another pile of more previously-thrown planes. So he goes over to gather them once again and throw them away, but now there are just more planes that keep being thrown down into somewhere around that exact spot.
He takes a plane and tosses it, and another appears. And the cycle repeats and repeats until Toya’s absolutely sure he’s being made fun of each and every day he tries to clean the pile of airplanes.
Each day he ends up getting too tired and just leaves it alone. This whole…whatever this situation is will have to leave him alone soon, so he’ll just stop interacting with all of those damn planes and focus on the practice he’s got later today instead.
But even practice doesn’t let the situation die.
“Toya! Toya!” An waves her arms high in the air when she notices him walk into Weekend Garage, the other two beside her perking their heads up to him. “Glad you’re here! Akito’s being useless again at the moment, and I need you to help me!”
“I’m not being useless, I just have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” the orange-haired boy beside her defends himself with a stern look. The commotion just puts a concerned look on his face.
“What’s this all about?” He asks, and that’s when An’s face lights up.
“So, get this: there’s some weirdo at our school that keeps throwing paper airplanes out in front of the campus after school hours. I don’t think it’d be that big of a deal if they, well, didn’t keep their planes on the floor to scatter all across the campus! And the disciplinary committee is trying to find who exactly is doing this, but we find nothing every time. So I need your help!“ An gives a little snap of her fingers, taking a quick sip of her coffee. “If you’re hanging out after school for the library committee and see anyone doing that, let us know! We’ve gotta stop picking up after this kid’s mess one of these days now.”
“An’s seeing things again,” Akito comments under his breath, walking over to lean his arm against Toya’s shoulder. An obviously heard it from the loud click of her tongue she responds with.
“It’s not just me if it’s everyone else in the committee! I’m not seeing things. My eyes never deceive me.”
Kohane gives a small giggle beside her. “An, do you remember that one time we were practicing out late and you were really tired?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, that,” Toya puts a hand over his mouth, covering a little smile. “Shiraishi, you thought there was a scorpion on the stage. It was just a cockroach.”
“Okay, and what if it was a scorpion? You all would’ve thanked me!”
“I wish there was one so it could bite you.”
An slides her leg over Toya so it directly stabs into Akito. She ignores the painful grunt that comes after. “Anyways, just let me know, okay?”
Toya just nods along, glad that he’s not alone in his experience (otherwise he’d eventually think he’s being targeted, or something along the lines of) and lets the beginning of practice roll in without objection.
He notices how Akito seems to always turn his head away when he looks over, but he doesn’t bother to mention it. And even when the wave he’s given after walking him home seems a bit more distant than usual, he won’t overthink it. He’ll just have to focus on catching this culprit tomorrow after his committee meeting, and this odd feeling that’s been crawling up his back as of late will finally detach itself.
He’s not exactly sure where to start, however. That’s his first problem.
After everyone from the committee (besides him, of course) left the school, he stayed behind to wander the empty halls in search for the paper plane culprit. He can only assume they’re throwing these planes from the top floor, and so he makes it all the way up the stairs to start waking down every hall and look into every classroom to find someone. It’s a long process at first, which comes to be his next problem: Toya walks up to a door, slides it open, then closes it and walks to the next. His arms and legs grow tired already, and maybe the lack of energy in the school that’s boring his limbs to mush is at fault. But the little determination to find this stranger is too strong in his chest, so he keeps opening doors upon doors in hopes of finding something.
And eventually, he does. He hears it at first rather than actually seeing it—because somewhere down the hall from the last door he just opened, there’s the sound of a desk scraping against the floor and a low grumble from a voice. He doesn’t dare forget the sounds as he skips a few doors and guesses which door the sound came from, picking the room that felt right and nearly slamming the door open.
But there’s nothing inside. That’s what he would’ve thought if he didn’t catch the sight of an open window with someone facing it, a stack of paper on the desk beside them.
It takes Toya a few seconds to piece together that mess of orange hair that reveals its single yellow streak when the person faces him. He can only smile foolishly at the sight.
“Caught you, haven’t I?”
“Guess so,” Akito shrugs his shoulders, a little grin on his face. “I don’t mind if you tell An or anything, y’know. It’ll take her mind off it, I guess.”
“I won’t,” Toya shakes his head and comes closer, sliding a chair beside his partner and staring out the window.
Akito takes a sheet of paper from the stack and starts to fold it. “You sure? I mean, I've seen you try to clean up my mess, too.”
“You see me from that far away?”
“It’s not too far,” Akito shrugs and flicks the newly-made paper plane in his hands, then pushes it gently out the window. “I was able to see you trying to throw them all away, and then I kept flying a new one down every time. It was kinda funny.”
“Not funny, Akito.”
And while Toya tries to keep his face straightened after he said that, he can’t help but let a laugh crack under his breath.
“What’re you laughing for? Since it’s not funny.”
“Nothing, nothing. Well, while I’m here, care to tell me why you’re doing this?”
Akito keeps his eyes to the front of the school, watching the plane he just threw finally reach the ground. Toya can tell the words are lodged in his throat, but he doesn’t dare rush him.
“Yeah,” Akito breathes out and takes another sheet of paper, beginning another fold. “I was staying after school from detention once—just for a few absences by the way, which is stupid—and when the teacher left for a bit, I threw a paper plane I made out the window. I dunno why, but watching it fly felt…kinda relieving. And so when we were all dismissed, I stayed behind and just kept throwing planes out the window. It’s kinda weird, I know, but it’s soothing somehow. Nothing but throwing a little plane out the window of the top floor of a school—it eases my mind when I think too much or if I’m stressed over something. So it just became a habit.”
“I only notice the planes when I go home alone. Is that something that worries you?”
“Nah,” Akito shakes his head, pushing the new plane out of the window.
The way Akito won’t meet his gaze makes him think overwise. So he grabs a paper from the stack and asks, “Could I try?”
Now Akito finally looks at him, surprised at first, but then childishly when he also gets a sheet of paper. “Yeah, ‘course. Here, lemme show you how to fold one.”
A few seconds of silence follow them as Toya quietly observes the slow and obvious movements Akito makes to show how to fold the paper. It doesn’t take long until they both have a completed paper plane in their arms, Akito’s a bit more symmetrical than Toya’s.
“Does throwing them just clear your mind? As in, that’s all you have to do?” Toya asks as she shifts his chair a bit closer so he, too, can face the open window.
“I mean, sometimes. Or I’ll just say things that I’ve been worrying over to myself until I, well, stop worrying about it. If that makes any sense.”
“Has there been anything on your mind recently?”
Akito turns silent. He breaks his eyes away from Toya again, staring out of the window with a long sigh.
“Yeah. But it’s nothing to really obsess over.”
“That so?”
Akito nods. His eyes only perk up when he notices a paper plane fly out of the window, the one in his hands still dry against his fingers.
And now he looks at Toya again, who shows him a little upturn of his lips.
“You can tell me, even if it’s nothing that big at all. If you want, we can make it some kind of exchange. You’ll make a plane and throw it, saying what you’re worried about, and then I’ll do the same.”
Akito just keeps staring at him until he can’t help the laugh that comes out. “Alright, alright. As dumb as this idea sounds, I think it’ll be nice. Let’s do it.”
With a hum, Toya grabs yet another paper from the stack. “You can start, if you’d like.”
“Sure, why not?” The shorter of the two shrugs and lifts his arm, the plane swaying carefully in his fingers.
“I got an 18 on my last exam,” he claims, almost proudly, and fires the plane out the window. By the time he finishes, he can tell Toya has the “we talked about studying more, haven’t we?” stare, but he only responds to it with a cheeky smile and a hearty chuckle.
It makes Toya laugh a little too, his paper plane being thrown out a few seconds after. “I sorted the books in the library wrong last week and haven’t told anyone.”
And that makes Akito laugh again, a hand being placed over his mouth to try and stop it. “I broke one of Ken’s glass cups last month and haven’t told him about it,” he admits as he throws his new plane out the window.
“That was you? I hope you know that Ken is still looking for that cup. He feels so disorganized without it.”
“I know! I just, well, I can’t really bring myself to tell him. An is so gonna give me one for it. And I’m scared of Ken when he’s angry.”
Toya can’t help the next small fit of laughter that slips out. And they just relax like this—one person saying their worries and throwing their plane, and the next folding theirs as they speak and doing the exact same thing.
And Toya doesn’t bother to care about how he was supposed to stop the culprit instead of join him. He only cares about the exchange that’s making his face light up with enjoyment.
“My favorite novel ended on a cliffhanger.”
“I got a hole in my shoe and didn’t find out until yesterday.”
“The claw machine with a really cute plushie was out of order at the arcade.”
“Ena ate the cheesecake in the fridge I specifically told her not to eat, then gave me a few yen like it was supposed to solve anything.”
“My mother cooked seafood for dinner. The main dish had squid in it.”
“I forgot about a chocolate bar I had in my bag and it melted.”
Toya laughs a little at that.
“I tripped and almost fell down the stairs on our way back from lunch.”
Now it’s Akito’s turn to laugh. It stretches out for a bit longer than intended, but it flattens out with a sigh as he throws his plane and watches it fly out into the open air.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, Toya gaining a concerned look on his face, but it goes away when Akito sits up, closes his eyes, and finally says something.
“I like you.”
Toya nearly drops the plane in his hands.
The silence makes Akito finally look over to Toya again, noticing the flush of his face.
“You’ve…how long have you been worried about that?” Toya manages to ask. He just laughs in response, letting all his nerves fall off his shoulders.
“A while now. Like, a good long while. But I’ve recently been more worried because I wanted to tell you. Guess that’s already out of the way, though.”
Toya can’t bring his eyes up to meet his partner’s. But there’s a little sigh from Akito and a distant smile on his face, struggling to stay confident. “But even if that’s something you can’t return, if we're able to stay partners, I’d be more than happy.”
And silence comes back once again. At least, until Toya finally manages to bring his chair even closer to where he can lean onto Akito’s side, taking his hand and placing the plane in his fingers so that they can both hold the little creation.
“I’d rather we be something more. I like you too, after all.”
He pushes their hands out to release the plane into the air, and Akito can’t help but explode into laughter.
“I thought I killed you or something there.”
“Almost. That was really sudden.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he takes their hands and intertwines their fingers, pushing a small kiss to the top of Toya’s. “Can’t help loving you, y’know?”
“You’re the one saying embarrassing things now,” Toya says, a smile evident on his face and in his voice.
“What? Like you didn’t just take my hand and have us both throw out that plane together?”
Toya doesn’t respond, turning his head away to (not effectively) hide the heat warming his face. Akito rolls his eyes with a chuckle and puts his free hand on his cheek, pulling his head in to push their foreheads together.
“Now that I think about it, weren’t you supposed to like, catch me or something?”
“Don’t feel like it. We wouldn’t be here if I did, after all.”
Akito snorts a little and smiles. “Yeah. You’re right.”
They stay there in the silence for a while, doing nothing but staring into each other until Toya huffs out a chuckle.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Are you going to kiss me yet? Or do I have to do the honors?”
The shorter keeps looking at him blankly for a moment until he smiles again.
“Yeah, you do it, you little smartass.”
Red fades into his face again, but this time he doesn’t shy away.
“You’re the worst.”
“Only for you.”
And before Toya lets him cackle out another laugh, he puts his other hand around Akito’s waist and closes the short distance between them. It’s warm in comparison to the fall breeze, and he can’t help the way he smiles against his lips when the hand on his cheek wraps behind his neck, fingertips delving into the roots of his hair.
Akito pulls away shortly, smiling when he sees the small grin on Toya’s face.
“Throw a few more with me?” He asks, playing with the strands of hair between his fingers.
Toya can’t help but hum at the ticklish feeling and nod. “Of course.”
Before Akito goes to fold another plane, he leans in and gives a little peck to his lips, stealing the sight of Toya’s contentment that’ll forever be his.
He gives Toya a sheet of paper without a word, and he happily takes it, leaning against Akito as he folds his plane and throwing it out when the other leans back.
And as much as Toya wants to keep their hands together throughout the whole thing, it’s quite hard to fold a paper airplane one-handedly. So the way he quickly takes his hand on their walk home an hour or two later isn’t dared questioned, and neither is the little kiss they share as he gets dropped off.
He doesn’t have an answer for his father when he asks why he’s smiling so much. It isn’t for him to know, anyway—it’s only for his heart to hold close and remember, keeping himself lightweight from the memory and making him melt when he puts a plane he kept in his bag onto his desk.
As much as he anticipated seeing Akito that following morning, the two were instantly called into the office the moment school started.
The two of them ended up getting caught, having left a huge pile of planes (way bigger than the bundles Toya would find on the days he walked home alone) outside of the school to scatter about. Neither of them really seemed to care much, though.
Because when their detention came, they stayed after school once again, throwing more planes out of the window with the other snuggled up to their side and watching their worries fly out far below them.