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“Oi, Morisawa! What about you? What kinda girl you like?” While Chiaki inwardly prays they get productive soon lest he has to do overtime by himself again, he does want to comfortably fit in. Perfectly average, you know? Thus, he reluctantly looks for a satisfactory answer. Not that they particularly care though, so all that matters is that he say something, anything.
“Like in terms of looks, or…?” he trails off, to which some other guy who’d been feigning to dust the shelves shrugs. “Anything,” his unitmate replies, “You can just say ‘big tits’ if that’s where you put the bar.” A shared snicker courses the group.
Good-natured Chiaki pays no mind. “Someone natural, maybe? You know, sincere deep down.”
“Man, ‘that it? That’s so plain, haha. You really got nothing?” someone else insists, let down by that lackluster answer. It’s far from the juicy gossip they were hoping for when broaching the topic; I mean, what’s there to make dirty jokes about or guess crushes by in such a standard take?
“Hmm… Well, it’s not really a type and it’s kinda embarrassing…but I’d like to have my girlfriend cook me a meal,” Chiaki confesses, turning back to focus on scrubbing the windows clean—the amount of filth that’s accumulated is sidereal.
He doesn’t get that luxury though, as some upperclassman drags him in a loose headlock, messing up his hair. “Aww, that’s so sweet! Are all four-eyes so straight-laced? Seriously though, you’re a good kid, hope you get that girl soon,” he adds, prompting a couple nods in the group. “Anyways, what about you, Fujiyama?”
The conversations pick up again, without Chiaki this time. He’s zoning out, and as he continues washing the rank glass, he catches a flash of blue on the other side. Ah, it’s that weird boy again. The one that goes swimming in winter, and when the pool facilities are shut down. Chiaki’s task doesn’t require much focus, so he loses himself staring.
And for a second, he can swear the boy is looking back.
***
A hero is content as long as those he cherishes are well. Selflessness is a must—despite frequently dragging his friends along with his whims, Chiaki should never dare prioritize his own satisfaction. So to risk making things awkward with his closest friend by voicing his feelings? No thank you. That would be unbecoming of a pure-hearted squad leader.
…Or maybe it’s time to acknowledge he’s scared. Part of his hesitation does come from his fear of backing Kanata up in a corner, but it’d be foolish not to admit he’s also dead terrified of his teammate’s reaction. He also doesn’t want that guy getting the idea that Chiaki might have saved him purely on the basis of ulterior motives—and you can’t fault someone this nervous and unaccustomed to romance for imagining the worst outcome possible.
To be fair, Kanata doesn’t seem hostile to the idea of a relationship. He occasionally flirts back—if them sharing ‘special moments’ rambling about everything and nothing, unaware of their surroundings, is flirting at all—and whenever he looks his way, Chiaki feels the other’s gaze soften. …Wait, isn’t it absurdly obvious that they both like each other? Is that why their classmates tease him about it, and even his underclassmen whisper when the two waltz down the hall?
Chiaki glances sideways at Kanata, who hums happily while splashing his hands about in a basin of water, busy washing clothes.
“Kanata?” The other perks up upon hearing his name, the ripples at the surface of the water calming down.
“Hm? What ‘is’ it, Chiaki?”
If his intuition is wrong, he’ll just go perform a heroic death in a ditch somewhere right after this interaction. That doesn’t count as running away! There’s just no way in hell he’d be able to live decently as a human being, if all his mortified stammering only paves the way for disappointment.
“What am I to you?” he asks, wanting to gouge out his eyes. The absolute nerve! That’s such a self-absorbed way of putting it, I just sound like I’m begging for praise now! “I mean, we are best friends? Or something? Right?” Chiaki clarifies, awkwardly flailing about. “Ah, you don’t have to answer, sorry!”
But Kanata is already deep in thought, his knitted brows indicating he is thinking long and hard about the answer he ought to provide. This must certainly be serious to him, if he puts that much effort in his reply. His lips sporadically part, then close, then part again, like he’s unsure. “I don’t ‘understand’. Chiaki is ‘implying’ we are best ‘friends’ by asking that, right?”
Chiaki’s shoulders slump down. Were they not getting along exceedingly well? It seems he might have gotten ahead of himself in presuming he was even more than an acquaintance, that Kanata valued him more than someone to hang out with occasionally. “Oh, well, uh, not if you don’t think so too, haha! Yeah, I considered we are. Sorry, I thought we were pretty close and assumed, my bad for— ”
However, Kanata’s expression only gets more confused, and he shakes his head as if he needs a minute to process all this information. “That’s not ‘it’. Are we not ‘dating’?” he asks sleepily, mechanically resuming his splashing motion.
…Huh?
“What?!” Struck by shock, Chiaki is first convinced he must have misheard, but as it begins to sink in that there is no way to mishear that, he nearly falls off his chair. “Y-Y-You– We– Huh?!” He cannot string two coherent words together to save his life, and Kanata sheepishly giggles under his breath, withdrawing his wet hands from the basin once he’s accumulated moisture.
“You’re the ‘one’ who told me that two ‘people’ who like each other ‘date’, right? I like Chiaki. And Chiaki ‘acts’ like he likes me all the time.” Was the special treatment that obvious?! What gave it away? Was it how Chiaki had actual post-it notes detailing what Kanata liked most to eat or what sounds made him queasy? Was it the fact that whenever Kanata felt down in the dumps, he’d not only skip class to hear him out, but also hurriedly drag him to any available pool so he could get better? Or was it the fact that they often held hands, and that Kanata allowed no else to be this tactile? ...Ah. In hindsight, yes. It is just that obvious, isn’t it?
Chiaki shrinks on himself, curling up in a ball and hiding his face in his arms. “Man, I’m so uncool!” he laments, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. Of course he’s thrilled! However, he also missed out on a great chance to ask Kanata out properly, and now it seems like everyone has found out about his relationship before him. “Argh, that’s such a loser move on my part! I should’ve figured— I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so I didn’t ask…”
Kanata hops over, lighthearted as ever, and crouches down to meet his level. “I don’t think you’re a ‘loser’ at all. ‘Heroes’ aren’t losers,” he hums indulgently. “Here.” Rummaging through his back, he offers a pink bento box to Chiaki, who sits frozen in disbelief. Tentatively, he lifts the lid to reveal a messy meal, definitely put together by someone whose heart is in the right place but whose cooking skills cannot keep up. It’s not bad by any means, but neither is it the most orderly display Chiaki has ever seen. Still, there’s enough to feed a growing teenager in there, with a nice variety of egg, rice, vegetables, and even some fish.
“I ‘made’ it for you, hm,” Kanata chimes. “You ‘wanted’ that, right?”
Looks like Chiaki isn’t the only one who has been very attentive to preferences; Kanata has somehow managed to unearth one of his embarrassing, hopeless romantic dreams, one he’s confessed eons ago to select few people, none of which he has kept contact with. “How did you…?” he starts, cut off by a giggle from Kanata.
“Hehe, Chiaki. Back ‘then’, I knew ‘everyone’s’ wish. Yours too,” he laughs, tilting his head with an expectant pout. “Is it ‘no’ good? I am not the ‘best’ cook, but I ‘looked’ at recipes using ‘ingredients’ you would like. Hm, what is ‘missing’...” He mumbles that last part under his breath; if Chiaki is not jumping around in sheer joy at having his wish granted, there must be something Kanata has overlooked.
“Ah!” he exclaims, as if it’s suddenly hit him, and he picks up chopsticks, fishing out some egg from the box and clumsily presenting it to Chiaki. “There, I’ve ‘heard’ that is the ‘correct’ way... Hm, say ‘ah’,” he sings, waving the food a few centimeters from the other’s lips. Chiaki’s motor functions barely respond enough to let him open his mouth—he’s definitely dying. Not only is one of the sappy things he’s always thought out of his league unfolding right now, he’s found out the person he’s pined after for months has—not-so-secretly—liked him back this entire time.
“A-Ahh…” Kanata happily follows through. His eyes sparkle as he feeds Chiaki a couple mouthfuls, and the hero fanatic is very much overwhelmed. Isn’t this just way too cliché? It’s almost straight out of a shoujo manga, how did it ever happen to him?!
Kanata frowns a little as his aim once again slips, and he knocks the frame of Chiaki’s glasses. “Ah, ‘sorry’. I am not ‘very’ good at this. I just ‘thought’ Chiaki would ‘like’ it.” And that he does. Shaking his head, Chiaki carefully removes his glasses. “No no, it’s fine! It’s unexpected coming from someone as reserved as you, that’s all! But I don’t, uh, mind it… I like it a lot, in fact, even if I’m sure it’s worth cringing at,” he bashfully admits. “And don’t sweat it for the glasses, they’re in the way. I can’t wait to get contacts, haha, these suck. They look so lame, hopefully I don’t look like too much of a dork…I wanna impress you…after all…” Voicing affection is too unfamiliar. And suddenly every word is a landmine, and he’s rethinking every sentence fifteen times before he speaks.
“I think they are ‘cool’. Chiaki ‘looks’ very handsome,” Kanata serenely objects, poking at the discarded glasses on the table. “And I don’t know that word —‘dork’— so I could never ‘think’ Chiaki is that!” What sound logic!
“You’re just saying that,” Chiaki grumbles, picking up the chopsticks for himself and offering some fish to Kanata. “Your turn, Blue,” he jokes, happily stuffing food in the other’s mouth the second he gets a chance too; talk about eager. “Tastes good, right?” Of all time, he picks now to test the waters and find out where they stand.
“My b-boyfriend made it, so of course it’s awesome and wicked good, don’t you think, hahahaha…haha?” he roars energetically. Hurry up and reassure him!
“Haha, Chiaki is so ‘kind’,” Kanata nonchalantly answers, unfazed by what exactly the other has just said. “Is it your ‘wish’ that I do it ‘again’?” he asks curiously, to which Chiaki immediately regains his senses enough to categorically oppose that idea.
“Between you and me, there’s no wishes, Kanata. You do things because you want to, and I’ll do that too. …Of course, I wouldn’t complain if my boyfriend wanted to cook for me sometimes… But not because just I want that! You’ve got to want that too,” Chiaki counters, shifting awkwardly to hold the other’s hands between his own. “So! Don’t ever do something because I ‘wish’ for it! From now on, don’t even think about what others ‘wish’! Please…Please be extra selfish around me!”
Kanata starts at Chiaki’s eagerness, yet softly nods. “Alright. Then, if I can’t grant your ‘wish’, let’s aim for our ‘dreams’ together. Like you ‘taught’ me.”
Though his face is beet red, Chiaki acquiesces with a broad grin.
“Yeah!”