Chapter Text
“Bye, Tsukasa-kun~” Rui purred, his smug expression dissipating as Tsukasa waved goodbye, closing the door.
With Rui gone, Tsukasa couldn’t help but sigh dreamily, leaning dramatically against the front door, staring at Rui’s receding form. He didn’t stay there in his daze for long, though, snapping out of it as soon as he heard his sister’s laugh.
"Isn’t he a bit tall for you?” Saki asked, dipping her head down to look at Tsukasa. He straightened, face burning, and spluttered out some kind of response before running to his room, locking the door behind him.
Great! Now Saki knew about his crush on Rui (although she probably knew before; nothing got past his wonderful sister). But she didn’t know, because he totally didn’t have a crush on him! Why would he? The man loved to torture him and put him through all kinds of suffering! He still wanted Tsukasa to do an underwater show and wouldn’t stop torturing him with the idea, bringing it up whenever they were together, speaking with that confident but oh so calm voice of his that made Tsukasa weak at his knees.
But he didn’t like like Rui, no. He was just able to admire Rui’s looks, platonically, as his friend. It was completely normal for him to wonder what his lips felt like too, because they always looked so soft, and Rui was always carrying around a different flavor of chapstick every day, and it would be really cool if he kissed Tsukasa after putting it on.
The thought made his face flush again, but that was normal. It was normal to blush when you were thinking about stuff like that. Everything was normal.
“Auuugh!” He yelled, moving to pick up the few things littering his floor; pens, notebooks with half written scripts scribbled in them, his school uniform, the sweater that Rui left behind.
The sweater that Rui left behind.
He stared at it for a moment. It was purple (of course, Rui always seemed to be wearing purple), tightly knitted together into a turtleneck. He vividly recalled the tall boy wearing it when he came over, taking it off after complaining that it was ‘too hot’ in Tsukasa’s house.
Wait. He could use the sweater as an excuse to see Rui! He was brilliant! Laughing, he picked the garment up, snatching his phone up in an instant.
However, when he picked the sweater up something else fell; some kind of leather bound journal. He froze, blood running cold when he realized what it was. Rui carried it with him everywhere, nobody knew what he wrote in it, and the boy was very protective of it. He wouldn’t let anyone in the Wonder Crew read what it said, calling the journal ‘something for him only’.
He was scared to even touch it.
But of course, the universe hated Tsukasa; a page had fluttered out of the journal when it fell, landing only a bit away from the book itself. And really, Tsukasa didn’t mean to do anything that Rui wouldn’t like, but his eyes betrayed him, picking up a few sentences from the page before he could shove it back in the journal.
Normally, Rui’s handwriting was hard to decipher. But for someone like Tsukasa, who was around the inventor constantly, it was easy to read. It’s cold out today, and Tsukasa-kun’s wearing a coat. It’s beige, with fluff lining the hood and cuffs of it. Ah, his sister must’ve lent it to him - he looks cute in it. I wish he’d wear it more.
That was as far as he got before slipping the page into the journal, fingers brushing gently against the rough leather, heart pounding from what he’d just read. Cute? Rui thought he was cute? He vividly remembered the scene from a few days ago, complaining loudly that he did not want to take Saki’s spare coat and arguing lightly with her before finally wearing it.
Despite his curiosity, he gently set the journal down at his desk, moving to sit on his bed, Rui’s sweater still clasped gently in his hands. He pondered his options - contact Rui and risk the man freaking out over it, or say nothing and have Rui panic and think he lost the journal. Oh, but if Rui came over to get his journal then he’d want his sweater back too and-
Knocking at his door startled him out of his thoughts; Rui’s voice filtered through it. “Tsukasa-kun?” He was out of breath, anxiety clear as day in his words.
Tsukasa buried the sweater under his pillow, springing up to grab the journal. “Rui!” He unlocked the door, swinging it open and posing, holding the journal out to the panicked man. “My dearest director, you seem to have left something in my room! Do not worry, for I, future star Tsukasa Tenma, did not read through it! I am far above snooping through my friend’s belongings!”
“Ah, you have it!” Rui’s voice flooded with relief, and the director didn’t even bother to take the journal from Tsukasa’s hands before wrapping him in a hug.
Oh. The hug was tight, and Tsukasa automatically buried his face in Rui’s shoulder, used to doing so when he hugged anyone taller than him, pulling the director in close. Rui’s shirt smelled like lavender; he briefly wondered how the smell was so strong, pondering silently what Rui used to wash his clothes before being pulled out of the hug.
“Did I leave my sweater here?” He asked. Rui hadn’t fully pulled him out of the hug, his hand still lingered on Tsukasa’s shoulder, and the touch made him feel dizzy.
"Sweater?” The word felt unfamiliar in his fuzzy brain. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, really?” Rui frowned, gently grabbing his journal from Tsukasa’s hands. “Well, if you see it, can you let me know? That’s one of my favorite sweaters.”
He shook his head, heart beating madly in his chest as he regained his composure. “Of course I will! I’m amazing, I’ll find your sweater and return it to you in no time!”
Rui laughed, and Tsukasa relaxed, watching the anxiety fade from his eyes. “Of course you will.” Then, he did something that Tsukasa wasn’t prepared for; he set his hand on Tsukasa’s head, ruffling his hair. “Thank you, my star. Bye now.”
He just stared at Rui as he left, lifting his hand to feel his hair, now messed up from Rui. Before he could fully leave though Tsukasa rushed over to the railing of the stairs, yelling down at the inventor. “BYE!!!”
Grinning, he watched Rui wave goodbye to him one last time before leaving for the second time that day, journal clasped in his hands. He stared at the front door for a few seconds, wishing that Rui would burst back in for whatever reason and stay for even just a minute longer. But it became obvious that the boy was long gone, so he silently receded back into his room.
The journal entry. The hug. Rui’s hand on his shoulder, Rui’s hand in his hair. Did Rui have a crush on him? The thought made him feel smug - of course anyone would have a crush on him, he was Tsukasa Tenma, future star, making people smile left and right!
Although, Rui wasn’t just anyone, and his face burned as he approached his bed, gently sitting down on it. The sweater. He’d completely forgotten about it, lost in the heat of the moment, but guilt filled him as he realized that he’d lied to Rui about it. He gently pulled it close to him, deciding that he’d tell Rui he found it tomorrow. He didn’t need Rui coming over again so soon, as much as Tsukasa wished that he could stay forever.
He’d keep it safe and sound. He was only putting it on to make absolutely sure it was Rui’s, why else would he put it on?
Tsukasa never really liked sweaters all that much; they were itchy and hot and uncomfortable. Yet this sweater was warm, soft to the touch, the smell of lavender sticking to each knit. His heart quickened as he lifted his arm, rubbing the material against his face, and oh, it was absolutely heavenly. His face flushed as he got up, looking in the mirror and striking a pose; the sleeves brushed just past his fingertips.
“Tsukasa, can you help me make dinner?” Saki’s voice drifted up toward him, and he squeaked, snapping out of it; in a flash, the sweater was thrown haphazardly on his bed.
“Yes, yes, give me a second!” He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, willing the rosy blush away from his face, willing himself to stop thinking about the sweater.
It didn’t work. With a groan, he straightened his hair, leaving his room and gently shutting the door behind him.
The sweater could wait. For now, he had vegetables to cut.