Archive of Our Own

It was the end of the first week of class, and Leon Kuwata still hadn't figured out where the best vending machines at his new high school were. This was very pressing information; if he didn't know which one had the highest concentration of his favorite snacks, then where the hell was he gonna skip during class?

He was about to find out that something worse was coming for him. It started with the stomp of hard footsteps like bombs.

Leon looked up disinterestedly from his latest haul. This one by the school's fucking confectionery (what kind of school had a confectionery ? An ultimate one, apparently) was loaded with fantastical sweets: Chocolate horses and giant sticks of nerds and jawbreakers that fit into his palm like stones. It was plenty promising, if a bit of a sugar overload. He'd have to remember this one.

Somewhere, in the back of his head, he noticed that the footfalls were growing louder. They did not bother him. The only kids he found in the halls were fellow slackers like him. Komaeda from the year above was usually loitering around in some decrepit corridor. Mondo—a kid from his own class—had already agreed to meet him out behind the school on days they didn't feel like learning. Plus, these fucking kids and their huge brains always had their little lab rooms to go to, so it wasn't like Leon was the only student in the whole entire school taking some time to smell the jawbreakers in their ginormous vending machine.

Suddenly, the footsteps ceased. He'd become so used to them that he felt out-of-tempo when those steady footfalls abated.

Then he sensed a shadow over his shoulder. Swallowing, he looked up.

Shit.

“Leon Kuwata! You're skipping class!”

There he fucking was, the only kid whose goddamn job it was to torment every other student at Hope's Peak.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru had the most gigantic stick up his ass that Leon had ever seen. Guy buzzed his cropped black hair like this was the military. His knee-high boots, a spotless midnight, could kick the lights out of a fella. His stupid uniform was always hard-pressed and crisp white and so, so tempting. All week, Leon had been debating whether he should “accidentally” lob an open packet of ketchup at the kid while they were at lunch, just to watch perfection soil. It would probably happen eventually. Leon didn't have great impulse control. Plus, Mondo had been egging him on since Wednesday.

Now it was Friday, and they had a single hour until school let out officially for the weekend, and Kiyotaka Ishimaru was frowning at him like he would drag Leon all the way back to that stuffy little classroom and make him suffer the rest of it.

Ishimaru started tapping his foot. Leon's gaze lurched down to it, a bead of sweat shivering down his throat.

“I'm not skipping,” he said.

Ishimaru sneered at him. They were the exact same height, and boy did it feel personal when the ultimate moral compass got in his face like that. His eyebrows were massive . “You are clearly wasting precious class time in order to buy frivolous sweets that you could purchase in one hour and two minutes—when school is over!”

Leon blinked. “That is not it at all,” he said. He really did not want to go back. If he did, Hagakure was gonna try and make him juggle his crystal balls again. C'mon dude, you're the ultimate baseball player! I bet you could juggle 'em until class ends. And man, if he didn't become that weirdo's little circus monkey, he would not shut up about it. For the rest of Leon's life, he bet.

The air charged between them. Leon stuffed his candy into his pockets. Bright blood-red eyes following the motion, Ishimaru's brow arched. “If you aren't skipping class, then what is it you're doing out here?” His words hung thick with his accusation.

Leon's hands dropped back into his pockets. He felt something hard and round—and an idea sparked. He shoved Ishimaru out of the way and stood at the end of the hall. Down the way he'd come, the corridor went long and straight for a good while before turning again. There was an air vent right at the back wall, enough feet away that Leon couldn't guess the distance offhand.

It'd do.

He pulled the jawbreaker out of his pocket, started unwrapping it. The plastic popped and crackled in his hands like fire. “I'm practicing,” he said over the sound. Ishimaru scrutinized him. “Y'know, ultimate baseball player and all. It's about time I graduated from regular stuff. I'm like, ultimate , and all. I don't need a baseball to hit a target.”

He tossed up and caught the jawbreaker, watched it whistle in midair. Up and down, up and down. “See that vent all the way over there?” He snatched the jawbreaker out of the air and jabbed a finger through the corridor. Ishimaru came to stand at his side, close enough to make out what Leon wanted him to see. “I'm gonna hit it with this .”

Ishimaru glanced back and forth, judged the distance. His doubt was palpable.

Great.

“Watch.”

He wound back his arm. A familiar pressure bunched up the muscles all the way from his wrist to his shoulder. Eyes narrowed to slits, he pierced that vent, watched it glisten in the mid-afternoon sun.

Then his arm released.

WHOMP.

Even from all the way down the hall, they heard the metal bend out of shape.

Ishimaru gasped , affronted. “You broke it!”

“Eh.” Leon shrugged, already headed in the other direction. “They said they'll fix anything we mess up, long as it's in the name of our ultimate talent .” Gag. He literally didn't even try to be good at baseball. It just kind of happened. How nauseating.

“But, Kuwata—!”

“Maybe they'll make some other ultimate fix it for their talent development.” Whatever.

Behind him, he heard the stutter of Ishimaru's combat boots, clacking towards Leon, then backing off. Finally, they rebounded, footfalls growing quieter, quieter, quieter, until he didn't hear Ishimaru at all.

Leon let out a huge sigh and walked a little faster. Only an hour to kill. If he was lucky, maybe Ishimaru would spend the bulk of it reporting on that vent.

Hopefully, he'd take the hint and stay out of his fucking way next time.

“Kuwata, you better be—!”

“What?” he called, making a slow, luxurious turn. “Kuwata better be in the restroom like he said he'd be?”

Ishimaru's little reddened face had peeked in from the swinging door. His eyes landed on Leon, and he stiffened, blush thickening.

He felt particularly conniving. It was a little thrill, subverting the ultimate teacher's pet's expectations. Confounding him. Look at that, Kuwata did the thing he said he'd do. This time.

“Now are you gonna let me do my business or what?” Leon spat.

Hurriedly, that reddened face lurched away, and the door clicked shut.

When Leon was done, he left to find his classmate waiting for him like a fucking escort. “Let's go!” Ishimaru said. His cheeriness was giving Leon a headache.

“Whatever,” he muttered. Didn't have any good ideas for getting out of this off the top of his head, anyways. Did they put Leon and Ishimaru in the same class on purpose? Did they mean to make Leon this inconvenienced in his own classroom? Could the guy chill the hell out?

Apparently not. Ishimaru's footsteps fell in line with his, the sharp clack of his boots puncturing Leon's easy gait.

“What do you plan to do?”

Leon's head jerked up. He stared at the hall monitor.

“With your talent, I mean,” Ishimaru clarified. “How are you going to use your time here in order to further your ultimate?”

Somewhere deep in the pit of his soul, his very being recoiled. “Dunno,” he muttered.

“Well, here is my plan!” Ishimaru launched into a whole tirade, granting Leon the chance to tune him out and ruminate on it a little.

What the hell was he gonna do here? Hilariously, there was no baseball team. Even if there was, nobody would compare to Leon. There wouldn't be a competition—a means for him to improve. Could that be his excuse for not training?

He sure hoped so.

“Kuwata?”

“Buh—What?” He shook himself, his styled orange hair getting everywhere.

Ishimaru's sharp gaze flickered after the strands. “There must be a goal you have in mind, a reason for enrolling in Hope's Peak. Yes?” 

Oh, great. A reason for him to stick his ass in a chair and stay like a wad of used gum on the underside of Mondo's desk.

Nah, he had nothing. He was just kind of going through the motions when he claimed the acceptance. Might as well, right? His parents had told him as much. Go become an even better baseball player. Go find a good bat and glue it to your hand. Go get your name inlaid in gold. Go become something memorable, something that glints down from heaven with all the weight of a sun, or maybe a meteor—heading straight for Earth. Go.

“Kuwata?” Ishimaru prompted.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The desire to slink down the hall and out of his sight was eating its way through his heart.

“There must be something, Kuwata.”

Ugh.

It didn't matter what it was, huh? Anything...

He could find some goal. Didn't matter what. Then he'd shine it on his shirt real nice and hand it over. And then Kiyotaka Ishimaru would shut the hell up.

(And then he could pocket another reason to get out of that room.)

For being a total study hog, Kiyotaka Ishimaru was sure stupid.

Didn't even make top three in their class. That was Kirigiri, followed by Togami, followed by Enoshima. And he was pretty sure Celestia ranked higher than the guy, too. Not even top 25%, and it was his namesake. It was almost enough to pity him.

Not that Leon had much room to judge, seeing as he was second-to-last in their class, save Hagakure. But still. Imagine being an ultimate and then not even living up to the talent's title.

He was up in one of the courtyard trees, ruminating on it. From where he'd eased himself onto a branch, the sky bared itself to him, great unending blue, cut out by fistfuls of felt-soft pink petals. Together, the horizon overlaid in purple. It was April, and it was gorgeous, and Leon wasn't wasting it dicking around in class.

Then the entire tree shook.

“GWAH!”

Leon frantically scooted around on his branch, his musings shattered. He clawed at his swaying bit of bark and peered down through the tree's petals.

There . He could only just make out sharp raven-black hair and even sharper brows.

“What the fuck , dude!” he hollered down at him.

“Aha!” Ishimaru shouted. “I knew it!”

“What do you think this is?” Leon bit back. “Hide-and-seek?”

He heard Ishimaru tut. “I knew I recognized your shoes and jacket laid on the ground here.”

Aw. Shit . But he really hadn't expected Ishimaru to tail him all the way out here.

Leon grumbled to himself, then groaned a sigh. “Can'cha leave me alone, man? The trees're gonna shed their petals soon. I wanna enjoy it while I'm still able to.”

“They'll still be here at the end of the school day!” Ishimaru countered.

Yeah, but at the end of the school day, everyone'd be out here, and he didn't wanna deal with that. Plus, another guy was probably gonna confess his guts out to Sayaka around here, and he really didn't wanna deal with that . (He'd already shot his shot and lost, and now it was just uncomfortable watching his fellow rejects do the same.)

Leon wondered if he was the reason Ishimaru wasn't valedictorian of each test—cuz the kid had to keep coming out and chasing him back to the classroom.

He cleared his throat. “But.” Uh. “I'm training my talent up here.”

Even from the tree's branches, he could tell Ishimaru had just gone rigid. “Don't you dare hurl another dangerous object at—!”

“Nah, man, nothin' like that. I'm, um. Meditating.”

“You're... what ?”

“ Yeah —Yeah, yeah yeah. Taking breaks from baseballing... helps me improve at it.” More like it made him want to chuck shit at Ishimaru less, but close enough. “Opens up my mind to new possibilities, or whatever.”

“Oh.” Wait, did he actually buy that?

“You gotta leave me alone now, so I can meditate.”

Ishimaru stumbled a step, then hesitated.

Leon's heart made a weird twinge.

Man, if anyone needed to sit in a tree and stare at nothing for a good long minute...

“Wanna... join me?”

From where Ishimaru stood, Leon got a full view of the honors student gawking. He had to swallow a chuckle.

“C'mon, it's real easy. You just gotta clamber on up here and take a look at the sky. Maybe keep your shoes on, though. You probably don't get as much practice as me at this.”

“They should've labeled you the Ultimate Tree-Climber,” Ishimaru muttered, but his hands sort of staggered for the bark. They flinched away, as if burned. “I-It would be wrong to use my allocated school time on...”

The conflict in the poor guy's face was almost endearing. Leon leaned a little more out of his branch, legs hanging over Ishimaru's head. “On what? On restoring yourself in order to, uh, make higher grades the next time?”

Ishimaru twitched, then nodded. His pale cheeks had pinked somewhat. Almost looked like someone had gently laid cherry petals all across his face.

Leon swallowed, throat suddenly thick. “You don't gotta stay in for long. C'monnnnnn.” He held out an arm, the other clamped to his branch.

Ishimaru hesitated another moment before his fingers sagged reluctantly for Leon's. By yammering the best footholds' locations at the prefect, accompanied with a whole bunch of tugging, he managed to get Ishimaru into the tree without too much hassle. “Boy, you've really never done this before,” Leon muttered to himself.

“Of course not! It's an inherently rule-breaking activity!” Ishimaru declared.

“Yup. And now you're in the tree.” Leon grinned. “What now, rule-boy?”

Ishimaru's face puckered like he'd been punched. A whimper escaped his taut lips.

Leon could only laugh. Ishimaru was kinda funny, when the stick up his ass loosened a little bit.

“Now what?” Ishimaru whispered. His scarlet gaze made a dart at the sky, and he licked his lips. Nervous. He didn't know Ishimaru could be nervous in a school, his natural habitat.

“Now,” Leon said, tone going for grandiose, “we stare at the sky and do nothing.”

Ishimaru's mouth twitched. “N-Nothing?”

Oh, boy. Was he gonna have to explain that to him too? “Yeah. Shut your brain off.”

“I can't... I don't...”

Hmm. “If that's too hard, then just, uh, think about how pretty it is, up here. With the sky and the blossoms and yours truly.”

Something like a laugh winced out of Ishimaru. Leon couldn't believe it.

His gaze trailed back to the horizon, but in his periphery, he watched. Watched as Ishimaru's shoulders lessened up a little bit, watched as he settled onto his branch, the wood groaning, and watched as the light entered through Ishimaru's eyes, making him glow from within.

His breath caught. He looked away.

Fuck , he whispered to himself.

Then came a long silence, stretched and pulled by the low whistle of the wind gliding through the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a little bell chime woke up. All the world came to a slow halt as it watched the petals sway and the sky pale and the life breathe back into Kiyotaka Ishimaru's wan complexion.

They only stirred, coming up for air, when the bell rang. Ishimaru squeaked and fell out of the tree.

Leon instinctively grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, holding Ishimaru in place as he scrabbled for purchase, letting his grip release as his schoolmate hobbled his way back down. Leon had fallen out of enough trees that he was pretty good at catching himself—and others, apparently—these days.

Once he was safely on the ground, Ishimaru exhaled a low sigh, and his cheeks colored, hotter, redder. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, don't mention it.” In fact, he thought to himself, definitely don't mention it, or anything that just happened, because holy hell.

“I-I guess class is over,” Ishimaru continued. He looked like a kicked dog.

Leon could hear the bustle of students approaching them, threatening to swallow up the sounds of him crawling down from the tree. “Hey, don't sweat it,” he called back. “You were meditating, yeah? Important stuff.”

Something like a smile started to pull up the corners of Ishimaru's mouth. Then he glanced away, echoed, “Important.”

“Well, uh, see ya tomorrow.” Leon kicked his shoes onto his feet, balled up his jacket, and fled before he said anything stupid.

The door creaked inward. Leon groaned to himself. His hands stilled on his acoustic, and he glanced up to meet—oh, great—Ishimaru's stern figure, marching over to him.

And here he thought the music practice room was the perfect place to hide in plain sight.

Dammit. Sayaka'd just left, too, so he couldn't pivot to her for assistance.

Rather than launching a finger into his face and hiking up his accusatory tone, Ishimaru marched straight past him, then lightly took the seat beside him. He waited a beat, then said, “You shouldn't skip class so often, Kuwata. It's not good for your grades.”

Leon rolled his eyes. He didn't bother glancing up again from the guitar. “They don't care what my grades are so long as I can hit a home run.”

“I do,” Ishimaru blurted.

Leon snorted. “I'm aware. But your thoughts don't go on my permanent record, so.”

Quiet, again. Ishimaru was being weird . “Why are you here?” he asked softly. Leon sensed his eyes grazing Leon's hands, observing the way he fiddled with the instrument. He only kind of knew what he was doing, but he figured Ishimaru wouldn't know that.

“Learning,” he said. Wasn't even half a lie this time.

“But that's not your ultimate talent.” There lacked bite in Ishimaru's voice, more something—gentler. Probing.

“Wow, really? Thought this was a baseball bat for sure.”

Ishimaru hmmh ed a near-laugh.

Leon stroked his fingers up and down the wood grain of the practice instrument. Reveled in its earthy texture. “To be honest, Ishimaru, I'm not really keen on my ultimate. It was useful for getting into this school, but that's about it. I'm still not certain exactly what I wanna do...

“And now that I'm here, my parents can't enroll me in any sports, make me use my talent. I have time to figure out what I like.” His fingers eased over the strings, made a low strum. His heart let out something like a sigh. “Can't waste the world's biggest sandbox just sitting in class all day.”

And, yeah. He'd only gotten into the rockstar thing because Sayaka was hot, and asking her to teach him an instrument meant sitting next to her for multiple minutes—sometimes even hours, if he was lucky—at a time. And he'd almost given up on it entirely when she told him, nope, not interested in dating you. But there was something about the give and pull of the strings, something about the world-weary sounds they let out, something about the way it stung his soft hands, not yet hardened, not yet ready.

Not yet.

Leon sat up, straightening. “Wanna hear me play somethin'?” he asked, because what the hell.

Ishimaru blinked. Glanced at the guitar. Back at Leon. He nodded once, his eyes so wide.

“Kay, you better hold onto your socks before I knock 'em off.”

The only song he knew all the way through was “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” But he sure fucking played it to hell and back. Slow and strumbly, oddly melancholic on the acoustic. Ishimaru bobbed his head along, a little, and his lips had parted just so.

Then the door burst open, and someone slowly, sarcastically began to clap.

Leon jolted to his feet. “C'mon, really? I think it was pretty good.”

Sayaka rolled her eyes, her long cerulean hair snapping about her figure. She'd stuffed her hands into her hoodie's pockets, her pink skirt flouncing about her knees. “You're learning,” she said. “I'll give you that. Nothing compared to an ultimate talent, though. I still don't get why you're wasting your time here on that driv—”

“That was beautiful.”

They both froze and whirled on Ishimaru, who was still sitting there, head cupped in his hands. Eyes swimming with tears.

What the fuck .

Sniffling, Ishimaru dragged the heel of his hand across his cheeks. “You were so—so full of feeling . I've never, not even, not in the practice court, the— ”

His hands covered his face, and he bawled.

Sayaka's mouth gaped wide open. She hurriedly snapped it shut and squinted at Leon, as if seeing him in a new light. Something holographic. Shimmering. “You've gumption,” she murmured, her high-pitched tone uncharacteristically soft. “I respect that.”

“C'monnnnn,” Leon said. He patted the chair on his other side. “Teach me somethin' else.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'll help you a little more, but eventually you need to learn for yourself how to read and interpret music.”

Damn, and then she wouldn't sit next to him, shoulders hunched at his side. Wouldn't be showing her up with his playing, either, not ever.

But Ishimaru...

He kept expecting their little class prefect to leave, but he sat and waited patiently, listening as Leon went through some more scales and plunked away at a very slightly more advanced song.

“At my church,” Sayaka muttered, half to herself, “you're not a true guitar player until you know Amazing Grace. It's like a second baptism.” She huffed what could have been a laugh. “You know, Leon, if advanced music ever trips you up, there's about five million Christian soundtracks out there that use roughly the exact same melody ad infinitum.”

Leon snorted. “Good to know.” If he just ate shit at guitar, there was still a place for him. Half of him was still trying to figure out if he should learn a shmancy old religious song for the sake of impressing Sayaka, but he had another feeling that literally nothing he did would ever spark pride in her. She was just that type.

Well, hell. He imagined it'd feel nice to impress someone else with his playing. Maybe it'd even inspire him a little bit. But who...

As Sayaka went through the song, showing it for him, his gaze wandered. There sat Ishimaru, polite and quiet as ever, eyes rimmed in a pathetic red. Leon had to catch himself from reaching out and thumbing back a stray tear on the poor guy's face.

“I can't play baseball forever,” Leon murmured, ignoring the sharp look Sayaka gave him. He nudged Ishimaru's boot with his sneaker. “Never mind that I don't like it, one day I'll get too old or too injured or something.” Made a tiny shrug. “You can't be the ultimate hall monitor for the rest of your life. Might wanna start thinkin' about other passions.”

Ishimaru's mouth twitched before he spoke, haltingly. “I can be a model student for the next three years,” he said softly. His throat bobbed. “More, if I attend a university.” He clasped his hands before himself, stared at them. “I intend that the skills I hone from my studying will transfer to another passion—one more sustainable—in the future.”

Oh, damn. Course he was already thinking about it. Probably figured it out the day before he even got accepted to Hope's Peak. Leon felt like a fucking idiot now.

But then a small smile quirked the edges of Ishimaru's lips, and Leon's heart stopped. “I appreciate that you are thinking of me, Kuwata. I—I never would have expected you to spare me even a moment.”

“ Uh —!” Leon stared very intently at the floorboards, watched them shift beneath his uneasy weight. “C'mon, I'm not heartless, man. You're annoying, sure, but, uh, you mean well.” His cheeks warmed uncomfortably.

Ishimaru swallowed, his face pensive. “If this is the path you intend to take,” he continued, voice carefully low, “then you might want to work on your grades a little more. You won't be able to rely on only your ultimate talent to succeed.”

Naw, dammit, he was right. Leon made a show of sighing, his chest weirdly warm. “Too bad I'm behind on my studies.”

And just like that, Ishimaru's inside voice was out the window. “ I could show you how to study!”

Abruptly, Sayaka stopped playing the guitar.

Leon's face colored. He swiveled on her. “Sorry, uh—”

Her head cocked, hair blanketing her figure. “I've played it through about three times now, Leon. Do you get it or do you get it?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah yeah, hand it over and lemme—”

She started holding it out to him, then dangled it just outside of his reach, watching him lunge for the instrument and then fall short and squirm. He had the distinct feeling that she was enjoying this. “You sure ? You looked quite distracted while you were conversing with your little—”

He was not letting her finish the sentence. “Sayaka!”

She burst into laughter, sharp and bright like wind chimes, or maybe crystal spikes, the kind you'd get impaled with on the way to hell. Finally, she dumped the acoustic on him, brows raised. “Well? Go on.”

And then they both watched him choke his way through. The worst part was when Ishimaru expressed just as much fanfare by the end of it. His heart hurt so much from carrying all the compliments.

Or... maybe that was the best part.

The first thing Leon saw when he woke up was a pair of bright red eyes, so close he could hardly make out anything else.

“BWAH!”

He tipped back and promptly crashed onto the classroom floor, chair-first.

“Kuwata!” Ishimaru gasped, already at his side. He helped him back into his chair, angling its legs to the floor, then breathed out a huge sigh. “I'm so sorry!”

Leon snorted. “I slept through our study session... and you're sorry.” He took one hesitant glance at his scrawled notes and groaned. Couldn't even read them.

“I should've provided a more rigorous session—something truly engaging.”

“Nah, I really don't think it's your fault.” Boy, math was so boring. How could anyone sit around and willingly plug in integers when they freaking made calculators for a reason?

“W-Well—” Flustered, Ishimaru dragged his desk over. “I'll sit a little closer, so I can catch you next time.”

He probably meant catch you when you're about to fall asleep and slap you in the face until you wake up , but Leon's brain did not interpret it that way. He choked, flushing.

“Th-Thanks,” he mumbled. Ishimaru was sitting so close he could reach out and touch him. Well. It'd be a lot harder to zonk out now.

Setting the calculator in between them, Ishimaru took up his pencil and began the problem anew. “Number three,” he said. “How about you try working on it first, and then I'll help you if you still can't get it.”

Leon swallowed down every single nervous tremor in his throat and nodded.

A couple minutes passed in pencil-scritching camaraderie. Quiet but focused. Full. Then Ishimaru stopped working on the problem, and Leon was still trying to figure out what it was asking, and, fuck.

A couple more minutes trickled by. The sweat cooled on his skin. Another minute. The silence. Desperate, Leon managed to eke out half an answer.

And suddenly Ishimaru swerved over in his chair, pencil all over Leon's page. Ishimaru all over his space.

His hair smelled like the most normal shampoo you could think of, kind of bland but with this weird soapy scent.

It made Leon's heart catch. Shit . He really hated himself sometimes.

He sat there politely and fiddled with his pencil as Ishimaru tracked his way through his work. “Hmm,” he finally said, glancing up at him. “I think you've misunderstood what it's asking.”

“What a surprise,” Leon grumbled. Man, this stuff was hard when you didn't pay attention during the whole first month of school.

“Here—Let me find my notes. We can go over proofs again.” And Ishimaru was back at his own desk, head ducked in toward his backpack. His body was bowed away from Leon, who got a full view of the musculature straining against Ishimaru's tight-fitting white jacket.

Leon had to stop the gasp from leaping out of his throat. Ishimaru was refined , practically sculpted. He didn't notice he'd almost reached out and touched him until he saw his own hand before his eyes and yanked it back, his guilt all over his stupid face. Then Ishimaru was back up again, cheerful as ever and wholly unaware, and he definitely didn't see the sweat trickling down Leon's temple or he would've said something.

“Here!” He shuffled the papers, straightened them out. “Do you remember the Side Angle Side clause?”

Ugh. Math. He'd forgotten that was why they were here. It was hard to ogle Ishimaru when he was supposed to be staring at the geometry lesson that had come from Hell specifically to torment Leon.

Laying his papers out on his desk, Ishimaru gestured for Leon to look on with him. His head peered over Ishimaru's tense shoulder, and if he had any balls, he could rest his chin on it. (Unfortunately, he had no balls.) Ishimaru's muted scent—cheap soap—was thicker, from here, and Leon thought he might get drunk on it. Cheap soap. Cheap soap. His eyes swam.

He could feel Ishimaru's body heat from this close. Warm, faintly drifting toward him. It made him feel so real , substantial. Here. Here, beside him. For some god-awful reason, Ishimaru had decided he would help Leon, and he willingly was putting himself in this classroom for him.

“What do you think?” Ishimaru asked.

“I think you're—”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Don't say that.

Leon forcibly angled himself downward. He plucked a random fact off the page. “I think if A equals C, I'm gonna have to learn the alphabet all over again,” he muttered.

To his horror, Ishimaru laughed . It was curt and brief, like him, but also sudden and there all the same. Ishimaru's cheeks warmed, tinged in pink. Leon reminded himself not to touch them. “I apologize,” Ishimaru said, shaking his head. “I don't mean to find your cluelessness amusing. You have a lot to catch up on.”

“Nah,” Leon said. “Please laugh at my misery. Someone needs to.”

Ishimaru snorted, the faintest smile tracing his lips. “Kuwata, I—”

“You can call me Leon.”

He'd said it before he even really thought about it.

A small piece of him had been waiting, hinging on the chance. And now here it was. His gaze slowly flecked to Ishimaru's, heart pulsing in his throat.

Ishimaru had stiffened. His brow evened, the furrow at his temple finally smoothed out. His eyes were wide, wide expanses of crimson. His lips remained pursed, cut off partway through his sentence. The only indication that he hadn't turned to stone was his breathing, just a pinch erratic, but raspy enough for Leon to hear.

He knew that Ishimaru called everyone in class by their surnames. He took attendance every day. He was like a drill sergeant marching down the rows. (Their teacher had tried to convince him it was their duty to call roll, but Ishimaru wouldn't have it. He was Ishimaru.)

Something—dare he say vulnerable—flickered across Ishimaru's complexion. Something quiet but deep with wanting, something that puckered as if in pain.

Ishimaru breathed in a little more forcefully. Then he said, mouth regaining that faint smile, “My family calls me Taka. Y-You can, too. If you want.”

His grin was disgustingly massive. “Yeah?”

Ishi— Taka . 

Taka nodded. 

“Alright then, Taka.”

Was that like... second base? Could he tell himself it was?

“Then, Leon. ” Taka put some force in it, really tried it out. His heart made an embarrassing loop-de-loop. “What do you think of this triangle?”

“I think it would be really respectful of the triangle not to ask me what I think of it before I even know its name.”

Taka was holding back a smirk. Leon saw it in the way his lip wobbled. “Triangle TAG. See?” His finger methodically punched out each corner of it. “That's its name. Now what do you think?”

Fuck. 

Nothing. No thoughts.

“Ummmmmmm. I think that there's a theorem that'll prove it's the same length as its buddy over there.”

Taka snorted, shaking his head. “Let's look at proofs one more time. I have a feeling this wouldn't be so difficult for you if you hadn't slept through my lecture and skipped the first one.”

Leon groaned. “I'm sorry . What else can I do for you?”

Taka started to open his mouth, but then he hesitated. Really thought on it. Good.

Then he said softly, “I hope you don't fail the next test.”

His heart violently caught. “I better not,” he murmured.

If he was gonna have to spend every single afternoon here with Taka until he fucking graduated, then so be it.

Let it be so.

“Hey, Mondo?”

His friend gave him a weird look.

It was free period, and most of their classmates had already gone off to their practice rooms, but Mondo was at the window as always, staring out over the field that swayed slowly in the breeze. There were thick clouds out today. Leon could smell the promise of rain on the horizon.

Mondo didn't like spending his free period with his gang. “I'm trying not to cut class,” was his way of explaining. He'd somehow gotten into the good graces of their short-stack brainiac classmate, Chihiro Fujisaki, and his grades were horrifyingly good for someone who looked like that . The first week of school, they both had hardly paid attention to anything, and their friendship was forged by the fires of truancy. (And subsequently, detention.)

Now... it was funny. They kind of checked-in with each other, once in awhile.

“Whaddaya want?” Mondo asked now, whipping back to face the window. His massive dirty blonde pompadour shook with each of his wide motions. His jacket was flush about his figure, dark as his attitude.

Mondo looked to always be in a bad mood, but it was just his face. He was a big old softy underneath. Leon had seen pictures of his dog, the love of Mondo’s life.

“So, uh. Do you know if anyone in our class likes anyone?”

Mondo scrutinized him. “I know you like Sayaka.”

Ah. Maybe asking Mondo was the wrong move, if Mondo couldn't even tell that Leon was over her.

“Uh,” Leon laughed nervously, sidling up to his friend, “about that. I mean. Not her.” Shook himself. “Do you think anyone else has a crush on anyone?”

“Fucking...” Mondo grunted. “Why d'you think I'd know?”

“Who the hell else am I supposed to ask?” Leon shot back.

“The person you're thinking of!” Mondo roared.

Hot color spread up Leon's neck. “The.” He cleared his throat. “Person I'm thinking of?”

“Yeah, the one you're so keen on.”

So was Leon obvious about it, then..?

“Um, l-let's say, for very important reasons, I can't.”

“Cuz you're embarrassed,” Mondo supplied.

“That's not—!” God , he shouldn't have asked. He shouldn't have asked! Should've just done the healthy thing and shoved it all into a box that he could leave under the bed in his soul so that he could pretend it had never happened and actually was gone forever.

Mondo puckered his mouth, thinking hard. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just... I was just, uh...” Fuck, Valentine's Day was like, nine months away, so he couldn't just say that... “Drama! There's so much drama in our class. I was just wondering if that was causing it.”

“Really fucking funny you thought I'd know a single thing about it,” Mondo said. “Maybe ask Naegi. He always gets wrapped up in other people's shit.”

Yeah, but if he asked Makoto Naegi, then, knowing his luck, the entire class would find out by the end of the week. (Kirigiri would learn from Naegi. Then Togami, from her. And then basically everyone else would hear about it, because Togami was a bitch.)

Only Mondo was safe, except, lucky for him, Mondo was a big blubbering idiot.

Welp. Time for Plan B: Never bring this up ever again.

“Leon!” cried a voice from right outside the classroom. Suddenly, an out-of-breath Taka was in the room.

A dumb smile fell onto his face. “Taka? What're you up to?”

Taka grinned in return, starting toward him. Leon met him halfway. “You hadn't gone to the practice room with Maizono, so I... came back here. Would you like to use this time to study?”

It wasn't a bad idea, but before Leon could agree, a grating howl of laughter fractured his train of thought. Leon whipped around to find Mondo's head sagging into his hands, his laughter shuddering through his shoulders.

“What the hell is up with you,” he retorted.

Mondo pulled himself up enough to face him. Still slouching a good deal, though, his body quivering with the aftershocks. “You?” he burst out. “ Studying? ” Rolled his eyes. “Ishimaru, you know this clown failed the last five tests, right?”

Taka was at his side in an instant. His arm shot out, and he stabbed his index finger at Mondo. “He's studying so that he won't fail ever again!”

“Good luck with that,” Mondo snorted.

Leon was about to say something else—but then a warm, slender hand cupped around his shoulder, and every single word in his head shut off.

With his left hand on Leon and his right aimed at Mondo, Taka continued his assault. “We won't need luck! Hard work and perseverance will see him through. He's turned over a new leaf, Owada , and...”

And Taka's voice was drowned out by the heartbeat in Leon's ears. Huh. When did that happen? Why was his pulse going so fast? Like, really fast. Like oh god, he was kind of shaking. 

Wait, why was Mondo looking at him so intently.

He watched another laugh erupt from his friend, and all the sound in the room came back like the opposite of an explosion.

“Really?” Mondo asked.

The words were already forming on Leon's mouth. “You sick fuck, don't even think of saying it.”

“I mean.” Mondo's eyes darted to Taka then back again. “ Really , man?”

Leon's face was so red he could feel it throbbing. “DUDE! COME ON.”

Mondo's laughter was starting to choke him. He had to lean against the wall and breathe.

With the threat neutralized, in one way or another, Taka took Leon by the shoulders and turned him so that they faced one another. His crimson eyes shone.

“I'm so proud of you, Leon,” he whispered. Leon's mouth fell open. “I know this is a lot of schoolwork for you to make up, but the fact that you're choosing to overcome this challenge and better yourself is truly commemorable. You've become so strong. I admire you, I really do. And I hope that you don't let any setback hold you down, for I plan on helping you every step of the way.”

Holy shit. Holy—Fuck. Fuck. This wasn't happening. He was about to wake up. Taka was this close , and he just—he admired him?! Did he just say that? He couldn't have. Leon must've died earlier back when Mondo’d started laughing his ugly head off.

“Y-You admire me?” he blurted. SHIT.

Taka giggled. Leon died a second and worse death. “Of course I do. You've overcome so much already. You don't need your ultimate talent for your future, and you're forging a path via passion alone.  That's beautiful, Leon.”

He was about two seconds away from losing his shit and crying in front of his gigantic fucking crush. Breathing in unsteadily, he managed a soft “oh” that felt like prying a bloodied arrow from his chest.

Then Kiyotaka smiled, and the world slid back into place.

“We still have thirty minutes. Let's work on history.”

Taka could've said “let's take five hundred tests” and he would have received the exact same worn-down, buttery yes in reply.

Ishimaru—

Taka. Taka, Taka, Taka .

Taka was really something.

Up here in his tree, Leon could let his mind wander without fear of someone showing up out of nowhere and bursting his careful little bubble. He'd said he was going to the restroom, and he estimated he had about ten more minutes before he had to stop daydreaming and drag himself back from the clouds to the ground before he made Taka worry.

Taka...

Ten more minutes of longing.

It was getting really hard, sitting next to him. Leon's heart would just start pounding out of nowhere. Taka's smiles were particularly deadly. And so many of them, these days. The prefect had hardly done it before, and now they showed up all the time.

What the hell had happened to make him so cheery? Leon didn't get it.

He just knew things were becoming almost too difficult to sustain. And he really liked being Taka's friend, so he figured he'd just—dammit—have to get it over with so he could go back to hanging out with him and not being a total sweaty fucking weirdo.

He needed to be a better friend. This was all getting in the way of it.

Sagging, Leon propped up his head against the tree's trunk. Let out a gigantic sigh.

If putting it all in a box wasn't gonna work, then maybe he should tell someone. But who the hell could he entrust that with.

He checked his phone, winced. Time moved so quickly when he spent it thinking of Taka.

Couldn't let him worry.

Leon slid out of the tree, landing awkwardly, and trudged his way back to class.

He couldn't trust Mondo with his plan, so he turned to the only other person he could.

Sayaka had smiled almost forlornly at him. Then she said,“Thank the Lord” and “Help me find an aux cord” in such rapid succession that he realized, no. Sayaka would never mourn the relationship they could have had, because she was never going to be attracted to him. And maybe that was for the best. She was kind of terrifying anyways, and Taka was—well, he looked all hard edges, but when he smiled, it was like dawn broke above his head, and...

And Leon was losing so much time to daydreaming about him. He had to get this plan in action so, at the very least, if Taka didn't feel the same, he could move the fuck on with his life.

She helped him set up the auditorium and even bought him a couple streamers, just so he could make it look slightly more intimate. It was a school gym repurposed with a stage, so there was only so much they could do, but he had to admit that the pinks and whites were a nice splash of color.

Mondo, he entrusted with the only task that he could. (Also, Sayaka had to sneak in an entire guitar, so she was a little too busy for this one.)

Once they finished up, and the lights were dim but not impossible to see in, and there was a single halo of light over the stage at the back of the gym, and the streamers and the balloons were all in place, Sayaka let out a long breath and sat down on its edge. Instinct, he took the place beside her.

Her smile. It was sharp where Taka's was sweet, but he'd earned it all the same.

“Look at this,” she murmured, glancing away from him to take in all their hard work. “Look at you .” Lightly punched his shoulder. “Never seen you so devoted.”

He grinned at the floor. “Maybe I'm learning from someone.”

“I sure hope so,” she replied. “I can't have trained you for nothing.”

Silence. They didn't need words to convey anything more.

Leon's mind fled to last Saturday night, when he'd caved in and called her and had been dreadfully surprised to hear her say, “Come meet me at my room. Let's talk.”

He'd managed to hold back his tears until she opened her door for him, but then they all came bubbling forth. She hadn't said a word, just pulled up a chair for him and took him into her arms. And she'd waited. How patiently she had waited, for all this time, for a friend who could actually deserve her, in some small, almost insignificant manner.

Part of all this was her idea. The lights, the streamers. Stealing the gym for their nefarious purposes. “No one will notice ,” she'd told him, playfully smirking at him. “We have, what, three separate training rooms? And the only gym sports-inclined ultimate is, ah, looking right at me.”

He didn't know what he had done to receive her friendship. He could only shiver in his wonder.

Loud footsteps were clomping up the hall. One-two-three knocks on the gym door.

Their signal.

Sayaka hopped to her feet, threw him some finger guns. “You've got this,” she said.

No, he probably didn't. But it felt good that she cared enough to try and reassure him. He managed one last grin her way before she disappeared into the gym's adjoining office to finish tweaking with the sound.

Mondo took one step into the gym, waved at Leon, and then promptly turned out the other door the moment his pursuer sprang in.

“OWADA! You know better than to run in the—halls...”

Taka's breath caught. Leon looked up, and there he was, frozen in place.

His heart wormed its way into his palms. He tightened his grip on the guitar and prayed that the sweat wouldn't loosen his hold. He trained his gaze on Taka and reached for the smile that always followed after.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a tiny thing in the gym's booming size.

But Taka heard him. He stumbled a step forward. “Owada was—he was just ...” Taka turned this way and that, bewildered. “He was running in the halls,” he muttered to himself.

“Come here,” Leon said, and his heart caught when his words alone drew Taka towards him.

Releasing his guitar with one hand, he patted the stage, and Taka fell to a seated position beside him. The confusion was rampant across his face. Settling on a small, curious smile, Taka whispered, “What are you doing?”

A giggle escaped him. He strummed experimentally at his guitar, trying to work off his nerves. “You're about to find out.”

Taka's eyes dipped to the guitar, then back at him, as if only just registering it. “But you've been studying with me every day,” he breathed, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, and, um.” Leon swallowed. His fingers were clumsy. He had to let out a breath and try again, the pads ghosting over the notes Sayaka had rehearsed with him, again and again and again. “Don't tell anyone, but I haven't exactly been studying after school.”

Taka gasped. The horror.

“A-Anyways.” He cleared his throat. From the corner of his eye, he could see his hands shaking against the strings. Tried to still them. No avail. “I, um. W-Wanted to show you something.”

The first couple songs he'd picked out had been rejected by Sayaka. When Leon had tried to argue back, she had all but smacked him and said, “You're forgetting that this is your first performance, Leon. You're not going to be coherent enough to play something to your caliber. Here—Do this one. It's lovely, and easy enough that you should be able to handle it, even under the pressure.”

He wasn't even sure he could manage that , now.

But he'd told Taka. He'd just said he would show him.

Now he had to.

Slowly his eyes met Taka's, and he breathed in. His lungs squeezed.

He had to.

His eyes kept trying to betray him, desperate to squirm away, but he forced them onto him, and eventually they latched. Kiyotaka was softened by the dim lighting, the fluorescence haloed about his head. His lips were soft and poised, outlined in pale inquiry, and his face was as lavish as always.

He was Taka. And Leon adored him.

His hands found the strings, and he went slowly, giving himself the time he needed to hit the right chords. Kept it going for a little while, repeating the simple melody once, twice (Sayaka was right. Dammit) before he found the strength to sing the chorus.

“You are my sunshine,” he stumbled, not quite blending into the rhythm, “my only sunshine.” Starting to get it. “You make me happy...” Oh. God. “When skies are gray.” Breathe, breathe. “You'll never know, dear, how much I love you...” He felt himself giving into the song. “So please don't take”—drew out the note—“my sunshine away.”

It got easier with the next verse. His mind softened, melding in with the strum and the lyrics. His heart didn't beat so fiercely, and he could actually hear what he was playing, and it wasn't—and it wasn't as bad as he’d imagined.

And Taka just gazed at him. Unwavering. His lips parted, his expression weak. His breathing staggered. Leon was so close to kissing him that it was killing him. But he dragged his way through the rest of the song, and when it was over, he let out a shuddering exhale like death and set his guitar aside.

Taka was in shock. “Y-You...”

Leon swallowed, throat thick. “Yeah. I, um, I learned it for you.” He balled up his trembling hands and smooshed them onto his lap.

Suddenly, he didn't want to know what Taka thought of it. “That's not all,” he added, springing to his feet. It felt good to move. Freeing.

He reached out, snatched up Taka's hands, and stood close to him. Breathed out. “There was one other thing,” he said softly. Waited. Sayaka had been watching for when they stood up, or so he hoped.

She was probably checking to make sure Kiyotaka didn't bolt from the room, which was fair.

But another moment passed, and Taka remained before him, utterly dazzled, and then the speakers kicked in overhead. First was his cover of “Airplanes,” because he was fifteen years old and cheesy as all hell. Hours of practice had been poured into his carefully curated playlist, which amassed to about three songs for his efforts. Hey, it couldn't get too much longer or people would start to seriously wonder where a good chunk of Class 78 had gone.

Kiyotaka was having trouble keeping up. Leon tugged on his hands, just a little, to coax him, and his companion sputtered, cheeks pink. “What's going on?” he whispered, trembling.

Leon's heart about broke. “Hey, hey,” he encouraged. Kept his voice low. Gentle. “Do you wanna dance?”

Taka's lips parted into an o. “I don't know how,” he confessed. “I-I've never, before.”

“Sounds like someone'll have to teach you,” Leon murmured. A smile hiked up his face, and when he pulled once more, Kiyotaka relented.

Taka had about as good footwork as anyone would expect, which was to say monumentally terrible. But his energy. Leon laid one hand on his waist, the other clasping his hand close, and Taka's hesitantly approached his back. And they swayed. A couple steps, back and forth. Back and forth. And Leon's face was so fucking red, and his mouth hurt from all the smiling he was doing, and his heart was blasting a hole in his chest, and he couldn't stop, and he couldn't stop, and he couldn't stop , not for the world.

Kiyotaka, for all of his wonder and confusion, had softened. A warm cloud had layered over his features. His eyes were crimson slits, contented and relaxed. His breaths had evened out. And he was smiling. Leon's mouth tingled just gazing at him, watching him finally reach a state of peace.

And it was with him .

Taka's hands were mind-blowingly warm. And soft. And they felt so, so, so good on him. And he didn't know how long it'd taken him, because the music had grown too distant for him to hear long ago, but he felt himself naturally drawn to him, saw it happening even as his eyes closed, knew it when his hands fitted carefully along Kiyotaka's stern jawline and directed their lips together.

He'd thought it would be soft. He hadn't realized how soft. He trembled all over, from it. Then he pushed, and Kiyotaka reacted, inviting him closer. His hands lay on Leon's chest, just above his rapidly pulsating heart, and his breaths were sharp and hot on Leon's mouth, and this was everything— everything—

And then before his mouth was empty air.

Belatedly, his chest ached with the pressure of a push. His eyes popped open, and they locked with Kiyotaka's, now red and wide and wide . His mouth still rested in that perfect o. He was panting, slightly.

He stood a good few paces from Leon.

His heart dropped.

Shit . Shit . That was really presumptuous of him.

The look on Kiyotaka's face made his pulse lurch.

He'd hurt him.

“I—I'm sorry,” he sputtered. Fuck . What could he say? “Really thought”—an uneasy laugh shook him—“M-Must've clocked you wrong.” And clocked him as what? As gay? As attracted to Leon? Why did he have to be so impulsive ? He hated it. “I didn't mean—”

“I...” 

Leon shut up, watching him. Kiyotaka was glancing at everything but him. The still, vacant walls of the gymnasium stared back. The music had been cut when Leon had went for it, and now all he could hear was the spastic buzz of nothing.

Taka's throat bobbed. His gaze readied upon Leon. He spoke again. “I-I...” Shook his head. “I.” Breathed, shoulders squaring.

And then he surged forward, filling the distance between him, and his hands braced against Leon's shoulders, and he paused, and he opened his mouth, and nothing came out.

And then—his lips, so light on Leon's. Almost hesitant. Almost afraid.

Leon chuckled slightly into his mouth. All the warmth in the world settled within him, like a giant butterfly on a cage's lid. He slung his arms around Kiyotaka, and Kiyotaka drew closer, hands fisting tight.

It turned out his daydreams didn't live up to the real thing.

He only pulled back so he could meet Taka's eyes, chancing a grin. Kiyotaka smiled back, cheeks flushed. He had the most charming little smile Leon had ever seen.

He leaned in to kiss him once more, savoring the smooth pressure of his mouth—

And the door to the gym office slammed open, smashing against the back wall. The lights shot all the way on as if in retaliation.

Kiyotaka broke away, startled. His hand instinctively grabbed for Leon’s, squeezed it tight.

Leon fumed. “ Dude ,” he called, “what the hell.”

Sayaka rolled her eyes at them both. “You weren't gonna stop unless I did something, I feel.” But she was smiling too, hands excitedly wringing out at her sides.

It slowly dawned on Taka what time it was. He stumbled back, a great pressure crossing his face. “WE'RE MISSING CLASS!”

Leon supposed it was a miracle that he'd forgotten for as long as he had.

His companion started to pull away, but his hand was still in Leon's. He gripped it fiercely, glancing from it to the boy attached to it. “We have to go back! We must have missed at least half of Geometry!”

“Oh no,” Leon said, “not Geometry.”

Taka elbowed him, and he let out a chuckle.

“Oh dear,” Sayaka said, eyeing them. “You're both going to be really gross.” Then she clapped her hands. “Come on, Leon. We have to clean up your mess.”

Aw, fuck. If only there was some ultimate janitor wandering around looking for some high schooler’s disaster attempt at romance to deal with.

Kiyotaka turned frantically between Leon, the door, and the pile of balloons. Slowly, his grip solidified in Leon's, and he smiled shyly at him. “Do you need any help?”

“I need so much help,” Leon said. From over his shoulder, Sayaka broke into a delayed laugh.

“You really do,” she lobbed back. “Maybe then you won't come crying to my room at one in the morning.”

Kiyotaka flinched, his lips already forming a question.

“Don't worry about it,” Leon said, squeezing his hand. “I'm alright now.”

His heart flickered, and he somehow found a way to smile even bigger.

Kiyotaka wasn't much for public displays of affection, but he later relayed that apparently shouting “I'M DATING LEON KUWATA” at the top of his lungs as they reentered the classroom that day didn't count.

Just to be annoying, they scootched their desks in together. Leon got stuck sitting at the front of the classroom, but for once, it didn't bother him so much. Meant he could reach over and take Kiyotaka's hand during lectures, and then, yeah, he was no longer listening to any lectures at all, but so what? He didn't wanna waste brain space thinking about triangles anyways.

(He would regret that tomorrow, during study hall. But also, not really. Not enough to stop zoning out and dreaming of him during class.)

Kiyotaka didn't know how to do a lot of things. To dance, yeah, but also sing. Play video games. Doodle that cool, jagged S everyone had learned in elementary school. Sneak into a movie theater and spend the whole afternoon sneaking into other theaters, watching free stuff.

It all came to a head when Leon took him to the frozen yogurt place across the street, watched him automatically go for vanilla. “Dude, really?” he'd asked, nudged him. “You're telling me you've never been here before, and you don't even wanna go for, I dunno, French vanilla? Or even orange.” Orange was his favorite. He'd already loaded his cup with it.

And then Kiyotaka had to be coaxed into infiltrating his yogurt with M&Ms and sour gummies. “But then the yogurt will be unhealthy!” he cried.

“And?”

“It'll be—”

“There's still healthy yogurt bits in there. Evens it out. C'mon, Taka. Live a little.”

He was learning, day by day.

Leon was watching his boyfriend nibble at his fucking yogurt, reluctantly studded with gummies, trying to portion it out, when it really hit him.

Someone in Kiyotaka's life had neglected him. Schoolmates, probably. His parents, maybe. Could even be a mixture of both.

His heart ached. He leaned in close and kissed Taka's cheek.

Flustered, Taka dropped his spoon. “Leon?” he squeaked.

“Nothin', babe,” he murmured, stealing his hand. His yogurt melted before he remembered to eat it.

Hope's Peak was a weird school. Like, no summer break?

Classes were shortened, but they were still expected to work on their talents or—at least something. Poor Kiyotaka was really not having it. Without schoolwork to study, what the hell did he have to show for himself?

Most afternoons, they found themselves drawn to the courtyard. Leon would scale his way up a tree, barefoot, then help pull Taka the rest of the way onto his chosen branch. The leaves were lazy, sagging under the thick afternoon sunlight, but they shrouded two hidden students from the public eye quite nicely.

Taka let out a soft breath when Leon kissed him. He turned into him, deepened their kiss. He was only in a short-sleeve today— only a short sleeve—and Leon ached to drag his fingers all over him. Taka's hands were in his hair, on his piercings, around his tank top, by his rough jaw. His body gave wherever Taka touched, and it ached after his fingers passed.

Maybe no summer break wasn't so bad. No summer break meant staying at Hope's Peak. Meant warm, unbidden afternoons in Kiyotaka's arms. Meant the days drifted by slowly, luxuriously, like clouds under the hot sun.

Taka leaned against the tree's trunk, and Leon fitted against him, head on his chest. Taka's heart was pounding at a steady rhythm. His fingers eased into Leon's disheveled orange hair, and he sighed happily.

“Next conference,” Taka murmured, “you should tell them you've changed your ultimate.”

Leon snorted. This'd be good. “To what?”

“Ultimate Tree-Climber!”

He felt Taka's sternum rumble with shared laughter. His heart twinged. “Yeah, I'm sure they'd love to hear that. Who needs a star baseball player anyways?”

“Plus, then whenever you're up here, I don't have to give you detention.”

Leon rolled his eyes, fighting a grin. Apparently he had used meditation as an excuse too many times (What about mental health, Jin Kirigiri?) and now trees were just a reason to hit the detention button a little faster. “You're gonna have to give yourself detention too one of these days.”

“Oh, no. Class is over for today.”

His words dipped, and Taka's head lowered to peck Leon's forehead.

“Class can only start when Kiyotaka Ishimaru's in attendance,” Leon muttered to himself. “He is physically unable to miss school.”

He felt the flutter of Taka's laughter, sensed his head lowering.

Leon pulled himself up, met him halfway. Taka's kisses had remained gentle. Tender. He kind of loved that about him, he noticed.

Loved him.

He wasn't gonna say it out loud. Not yet. But he tucked it close to his chest like a lost meteor, held its molten secret in his palms.

He settled against Taka, nuzzling into his collarbone. Taka's arms were tight and secure around him. 

The safest place in the world was right here, in this tree's branches.