Archive of Our Own

Waking was abrupt, and decidedly painful. He had vague memories of his ankle rolling, his head hitting the stair railing, and he thought maybe the last two steps on the way down, too. And-

He shot up, head protesting painfully as it slammed hard into another. He’s sent back to the floor, curling into a pitiful ball covering his face.

"Sorry," weak and pathetic, probably slurred to hell from his heavy tongue - and when he peeked out from beneath his hands, eyes squinted in a vain attempt to shield them from the too-bright window-light, there was Teru. Slouched forward, hands squished between his forehead and the floor he seemed to be trying his best to press it into.

Breathing in deep, or maybe sniffling, because a slam that hard to the head had to hurt even the infallible Minamoto Teru, he pulled himself from the floor and brusquely ran his hands through his hair. Somehow, he managed to maintain that ever-infuriating smile he clung to. He wondered if it was some sort of life-line for his probably-crumbling sanity, or if Teru really was just that naturally happy - doubtful, in its own right.

More likely, his chronic-and-severe lack of sleep had been getting to him for far longer than even Kou’s been able to notice.

Against his better judgement, the continued protest of his head, and his mounting regret-guilt as Teru flinched away - leaving him truly considering throwing himself back onto the floor and hoping it properly took him out - he shoved himself back up, a weakly apologetic noise crawling out from his throat. His hands fluttered near Teru’s shoulders uselessly.

"Well!" Teru laughed, probably awkward and probably nervous, but far too easily for both the situation and Akane's maelstrom-swirl of emotions. Carefully covering his hands, before a stray frantic limb could take someone out - probably Teru, though Akane wouldn't be surprised if it was himself - he slowly eased them down, away from his face. "You're nothing if not ever consistent."

Akane's worry-guilt-regret sunk into something a little more befitting of a withering plant. "It was an accident." Not one he entirely knew how to explain his way out of, but blaming it entirely on Yashiro, or Hanako, was definitely a strong contender. They were, ultimately, the root of it all.

(Granted, that ignored the fact that he knowingly listened to Yashiro to begin with.)

Innocent as ever in both smile and tone, Teru hummed, easing himself back onto his heels and taking his hands back. Much to Akane’s dismay. “Somehow, I feel like Yashiro was involved.”

Despite his best efforts against, he cringed. His head ducked as far into his collar as he could manage, gaze firmly placed on the floor. His embarrassment was suffocating.

“Yeah.” Teru sighed, pushing himself to stand and drag Akane up with him. “That’s what I figured.”

—

Akane groaned, his forehead pressed into Yashiro's kitchen table, arms dangling at his sides, just as lifeless as he felt. His head still ached and his ankle protested with anger-sharp bites of pain when he put pressure on it. Still, it could've been way worse. He could have woken up in the hospital, like he suspected Kou had when Yashiro was last involved.

“You gave me horrible advice.”

“ You, ” she bumped the bottom of a glass against the side of his head repeatedly in further emphasis. He snatched it from her hand, glaring half-heartedly at her and slouching back into his chair with a petulant pout. “Said that you were desperate.”

He was being overdramatic. Granted, it probably held some weight to it, he did actually use Yashiro’s stupid suggestion, after all. Or maybe he just had a temporary lapse in his sanity - it felt better to think that.

“It felt like I was digging my grave.” In fact, it would’ve been easier and less embarrassing to explain to literally anyone if he was! Made him wish he had been; at least he could avoid the fall-out by simply stepping into it, then. “I should’ve known better than to go to someone who has terrible judgement and even worse ideas.”

Yashiro gasped in maybe mock, maybe genuine offense - he genuinely couldn’t tell, Yashiro was a fairly dramatic and expressive person on a good day - and pressed a hand to her chest. Fingers splayed, like she were in some anime. “I have great judgement, thank you! I fell for Aoi-chan, after all.”

Akane snorted derisively, “You also fell for President Minamoto-”

Yashiro’s posture straightened, smile smug and preening. “Who, might I add, you- ” she pointed at him “-are currently trying to romance.”

He managed not to skip a beat, despite his bone-deep cringe at that - the last person he wanted to share any semblance of a taste with was Yashiro Nene - “-and decided the best course of action was to get a supernatural to curse him. ”

Her shoulders slumped, “I didn’t know he was an exorcist.” Akane bit his tongue, with a great deal of effort, on his immediate but you were friends with Kou, who announces it like every five minutes. In fairness to her, Akane didn’t really know when the two of them had become friends. Just that one day, he was a staple in her life. 

Yashiro seemed to have a habit of that, stumbling her way into what would probably be life-long friendships.

“And it’s not like you’re any better!” She abruptly accused, pointing a finger at him once again. “What would you have recommended, huh? Just going up to him and talking to him?” Her smug attitude made a spectacularly awful return, for someone who couldn’t even ask one pretty girl on a date. “It’s not like you’re doing that, hypocrite!”

He tsk ed, placing his cup down and crossing his arm over his chest - straight back into petulancy for him, it seemed. Maybe that cup of water would be enough to drown him, because he couldn’t deny the just tell him! advice. Nor could he deny the fact that he was, quite pointedly, doing not that.

“Ao-chan was easier to talk to. I’ve known her basically our entire lives,” he grumbled. “Just three days ago, I panic-yelled at President Minamoto that I hated him.”

A beat.

A hiss of breath in through Yashiro’s teeth.

“ Yikes. ”

—

To date, there was only one time Akane dared to entertain the horrible, awful, terrible idea of confessing outright. Lacking his dramatic - or melodramatic, depending on who you asked and who had to listen to him later - flair, yet retaining all of the abrupt simple-mindedness that confessions to Aoi used to contain.

( “If anything, you could use experiences with me as a reminder for what not to do!” Aoi had joked, laughing behind her hand while Akane threatened with his leg half-hung out of her window to leave. It was comfortable, being friends again.)

Shortly after the self-proclaimed bread-incident that he was still determined to whole-heartedly blame on Yashiro. He’d firmly sworn that it would be the only time.

He'd managed to track the bitch down to the courtyard. Straight into a second confession - second, because Akane liked to think he got to call the place of first for that day, if he'd been trying since several days prior - and promptly refused to take the spot of next-in-line.

Teru would get too much of a kick out of seeing that he was sure. Like him or not, Akane was far from willing to let Teru have some self-perceived win against Akane. Even if it turned out that Akane was the only one who thought of it as so.

Besides, he'd like to confess without someone coming literal seconds before him, thanks.

Then again, he would've also liked to confess without blood staining the soles of his indoor shoes, quietly wiped away on the courtyard's grass and dirt; courtesy of his bat and more-than-seething anger. (He'd done this song and dance before too, all the way down to bludgeoning someone just a little too hard. Aoi was popular; Teru was popular. He couldn't help but feel as though he was falling back into old habits - even if they'd never actually died, to begin with.)

Doubly, he could've done without Teru burning a shocked hole into the side of his head; as if this was something abnormal where Akane was concerned.

Though, he’d give him that where Minamoto Teru was involved, it probably was, but Akane had never shown him any true disdain had he? Outside of those first few middle school years, but…

Ah, no, wait. Just a few hours before, he had told him to go fuck himself and buy his own pencil, because he'd asked to borrow one, hadn't he? He'd still given him one, though.

Granted, it also came with the threat not to lose it, or "so help me GOD Minamoto-"

Not that any of it actually mattered, anyway. The whole point of confessing was that you actually confessed, and Akane had managed to, somehow, well and forget about that part until long after they’d both left the scene. When he was between classes and at least two from when he’d first sought him out.

So, yeah.

Just confessing was firmly off the table.

—

“Here-” he’s given no time to react, to question her or to startle his stolen hand free, before Aoi smacked a button into his palm, leaving a stinging ache in her wake “-a gift.”

“A gift…?”

“Yup!” She chirped, taking his shoulders in her hands and spinning him around, tearing his dumbfounded look away from her while he was still too stunned to react. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he caught the edges of a smile, before she shoved him in the direction she’d come from. Over the stumble of his own steps, he heard hers disappear down the hall.

Standing still, slouched and confused with one hand against the wall to steady himself, he stared down at the button he was given, and wondered just what the hell this was about. Maybe more of Yashiro and her shitty advice from Hanako months back, given to him through the rose-tinted lens of Aoi. Smart on her part if so, it wasn’t like he was ever going to refuse Aoi’s help, no matter how terrible.

(He was running in circles with the cycle-of-blame at this point, wasn’t he?)

And, he had no doubts that this would end terribly. Anything that originally came from Hanako always ended terribly; if not with hospitalization - Kou - then with curses - the mermaid.

Oh, how easy life would be without supernaturals. Committing to that thought, unfortunately, meant committing to the fact that he and Teru would’ve never gotten as close as they did. His friend group would have remained as an arms-length-away Aoi, and Lemon.

So, he sighed. Straightened himself out, dusted his uniform sweater off for extra measure, and started off down the hall, where he was sure to run into Teru. And - he glanced down at the button in his hand once again - probably offer to sew it back on.

This was a horrible idea.

“Aoi!” Speak of the devil. “Have you seen Akane-san? She came down this way.”

Yes, though considering Aoi’s hasty exit - either to make sure she was long-gone before Teru showed up, or to find a good hiding spot with Yashiro for when this, too, inevitably blew up in his face - he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to tell him that.

So - “No.” - the only option was to accept fate. Aoi was trying to help, however misguided, he might as well run with it. Which meant pointing to Teru’s sleeve, and doing his best to act like any of what was about to come was natural. “I think you’re missing a button.”

“Right-” he glanced down at the sleeve himself, fidgeting with the torn string “-that’s why I’m-”

“I have a spare,” he held up his hand, palm still slightly red from where Aoi had smacked it, “I can sew it back on for you.” Teru’s brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, looking more akin to an easy-to-startle stray than anything else. He tried his best to keep his annoyance out of his voice, but- “What?”

“Wha-” Immediately, as though suddenly conscious of it, the expression vanished, his hands held up in an exceptionally rare - because Teru was always higher-than, somewhere leagues above everyone else - show of surrender. “Nothing! That would be appreciated, thank you. If you happen to run into Akane-san before the end of the day, can you tell her I’m looking for her?” Slowly lowering his hands, he glanced behind Akane warily, as if Aoi were lurking behind hall-corners and would jump out at him at any moment. Maybe she was. Maybe she would. He kinda hoped she would. “I’m glad she’s embracing her depressed gremlin nature, but-”

“I will shove this button so far down your throat- ”

Teru, like the bastard he was, simply laughed and turned on his heel, sing-songing a cheerful, “I guess she’s still a landmine for you,” and keeping several steps ahead of him. As if Akane had ever made good - ever even attempted to - on the threats he’s made before.

(Actually sewing the button back on was quiet and somewhat painful, but wholly uneventful. All that time practicing sewing and stitching to near perfection felt abruptly wasted, when he and Teru wound up with their respective fingers and wrist dotted in Hello Kitty band-aids. Which, when asked, Teru claimed he carried around for his little sister. “But they’re cute, right?” )

—

“What if you make him something he likes?” Akane lifted his head slightly, throwing a hand out in Kou’s direction before the chair he’d been leaning just too far back in could tip and fall as his knees slid off from the desk-edge. “I can help! I’m pretty sure Teru-nii likes home-cooked stuff.”

He was pretty sure Teru just liked Kou’s cooking - even more-so now, since it meant normalcy, but Akane wasn’t about to go ruthlessly cutting down his suggestion like that. Besides, Akane might as well put all those skills he learned for Aoi to use; at least he could be assured that between him and Teru, if they ever got to that (imaginary, painfully so) future point, their house wouldn’t burn down.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel just a little resigned as he stood from his seat and waved for Kou to stand and lead the way to the Home Ec room; “Might as well.”

Personal gifts and home-made stuff were supposed to be good for a confession anyway, weren’t they? He’d tried it early on with Aoi, and while his score had been abysmal, she did praise the effort he put into it. Curse her, for being right about being a good reference point.

“I can help you, if you want!” Kou chirped, tossing an apron at him from just inside the Home Ec room’s doorway.

Part of him wondered if this was the only low grade Teru had, or if he managed to somehow weasel his way out of it with bright smiles and too-much charm. How often was it that Kou came in here after-hours anyway, that he didn’t need to ask a teacher for permission anymore?

(Actually- he could probably answer that with a simple Tsuchigomori. He probably covered for him, and he’d seen Kou come in with ingredients stuffed into his school bag before. Maybe he just had blanket permission to use it and pay, replace, or bring his own of whatever he needed. Thinking about it wasn’t really worth it, anyway.)

Things went downhill in the matter of minutes.

Teru’s head poked through the door, mouth half-open as he took in the scene: Akane trying vainly to pat out the small fire on Kou’s wristband, a Mokke caught and tucked away between his arm and his side, squirming valiantly as Kou tried to wipe as much water off from Akane’s face as he could.

His mouth shut. Time crashed to an abrupt standstill.

A beat.

Then, his smile turned into a lopsided, strained, awkward thing. “Are…are you trying to flirt with Kou?” He wasn’t, but if he were, Teru would’ve just made his way to number 1 on his hit-list. He obviously wouldn’t want it pointed out! Which was probably the exact fucking reason that Teru said it. “Stop that- Kou didn’t I tell you to stay away from Aoi?” Tacked on like an afterthought; a shitty joke to ease the tension.

Kou reacted immediately, squeaking out a too loud “No!” that only served to make the situation worse and hurt Akane’s ears. He smacked a hand over one protectively, though uselessly. The damage had already been done. “We- we weren’t-” He floundered, too easily flustered at the slightest hint of anything romantic being implied, and looked to him for help. As if Akane’s made any situation that involved Teru better, lately.

“We were…” His eyes flicked to the container they’d shoved far out of their way, shoving whatever had been salvageable inside and away from the mess their rogue friend had caused. He nudged it closer to Teru, still a room’s width away with no sign of venturing closer. He couldn’t blame him. “We were making this. Uhm,” he glanced between the container and Teru, again, “for you.”

Teru’s smile strained impossibly further, crinkling the corners of his eyes. The sight practically screamed warning-signs of uncomfortable! “Are you trying to poison me?”

He was- that was- a joke, right? Right? Teru was definitely the type to be self-deprecating and dramatic, and-

And he doubted it. Teru, self-deprecating and dramatic, didn’t usually look so bothered.

He’s never been that bad to Teru that genuinely poisoning him would ever be a worry, right? Especially not if Kou was involved, right?

(Or did he still have the idea in mind that Akane had been doing this to flirt with Kou and that was what made him so uncomfortable? Maybe he should revisit the idea of digging his own grave - it would certainly be better than this mess.)

All he could muster was a bone-deep sigh and a pitiful, “No,” his head hung into his hands. There probably wasn’t anything he could say to salvage this. Not that it mattered, once his face was hidden, his elbows propped up on the still-wet countertop, Teru turned and made a hasty retreat.

Kou pat his back awkwardly. The Mokke pat his head with one of its weird arm-hand-ears, like it wasn’t the one at fault. “I’ll clear it up on the way home.”

He gave another long-suffering sigh, prying himself up and straightening back out, brushing his bangs back in what was quickly growing into a stress-habit. “Thanks. I’ll see if Ao-chan’s willing to try this. Might as well see if it came out good, despite; I strongly doubt that President Minamoto will be a willing candidate.”

He’s given another awkward pat to his back.

—

He should have known - from Kou’s too-innocent smile, erring just close enough to Teru’s that he felt a little stupid for not realizing, and Yashiro and Aoi’s quick self-invitation - that this was a set up.

“Why don’t you go wake up Teru-nii?” He waved both hands at him, like he was shooing away a clingy stray.

Why don’t you- because it was a horrible idea, obviously! Because Akane probably wasn’t welcome in Teru’s room. Because Akane knew, just as much as the three of them did, only a step above the school’s supernaturals right now, that he was just going to make an utter fool of himself once again. He always seemed to, lately.

“Shouldn’t you? He’s your brother.” He crossed his arms, curling into himself as much as he could. Make himself as small as possible, as unnoticeable as possible- “You have a younger sister, can’t she?”

Kou grabbed his arms, hauling him to his feet despite his protests and dragging him to the stairs, where he gently kicked the back of his knees. A second time, when he just stood there, staring at him. A third time, and he finally hopped up onto the first step to get away from him - and then the second, just for good measure.

Kou flashed him a smile and thumbs up. “You’ll survive!” Honey-sweet and traitorous; not the vote of confidence he would like, since Kou always gave the best interpretation of his brother that he could. “Honestly, he’ll probably just whine a whole bunch.” With the distinct tone of you’ll probably find it cute, though.

He grumbled incoherently under his breath. Fine then! If it ended poorly, then it would be Kou’s fault, and Kou’s mess to clean up!

Creeping into his room, he tried to just remind himself that Kou sent him up, sent him in; threw him to the wolves, because he knew. He fucking knew what he was doing.

Teru’s half-under a mass of blankets and at least two of his pillows, when he finally pried his eyes away from the floor to look at him. One pillow tossed haphazardly over his legs, the other leaning against the back of his head.

He never really took Teru as someone to move around a whole lot in his sleep.

He also never took him for someone to sleep very deeply - unless this was a one-of-few rare occurrence. Discovered only because he tripped over the edge of a floor rug and nearly slammed face-first into the side of Teru’s bed. Also nearly took out the lamp and alarm clock and phone on his nightstand.

Straightening himself out, he shook his shoulder, met with a grumble and Teru trying and failing to drag the blankets over his head. A second attempt at shaking his shoulder and he was pretty sure Teru legitimately hissed at him.

Okay. Sure.

He huffed, crouching down instead. Maybe he could blare something on his phone to wake him up, or yank his hair, or pinch his nose-

Actually-

He reached out to pat Teru’s head. His hair always looked like it would be soft, albeit tangled with how messy it always was. He’s surprised to find that it’s relatively smooth and tangle-free.

Teru’s face scrunched, Akane’s fingers still tangled in his hair. He startled, yanking his hand free as if burned, and watching as Teru ducked most of his face under the blanket.

Akane- never really claimed to be smart, not where emotions were involved. He’s made a fool of himself more than enough over the years to know better. So, when instinct screamed at him, instinct won.

Half-panicked and with his heart in his throat, he grabbed the edge of Teru’s blanket and yanked.

Uselessly, Teru yelped, scrabbling frantically at the bed. Twisted up just enough in the blanket that regardless of his attempts, he still wound up in a heap on the floor - dazed and confused and somewhat wounded, and staring at Akane with far-too-wide eyes.

Despite the apology at the tip of his tongue, Akane still ground out, “It’s time to fucking wake up.”

Slowly, glancing between Akane and his bed and the blanket tangled around his legs, Teru nodded, muttering a tiny, “Okay…?”

Stupid and red-faced and embarrassed, he only had himself to blame. Even though he insisted, even if it was just to himself, that it would be Kou’s fault.

He turned, storming out of the room and down the stairs. Right back into the kitchen, where he dropped into the seat beside Aoi, and dropped his head onto the table. Hard enough that something rattled from the other end. He stretched his arms out before him, resembling more of a broken ragdoll than a person.

All he needed to do was give him a slightly harder shove, or call his name, or pull the blankets off of him. Or literally anything that didn’t involve him completely dragging him off of the bed.

On the other side of Aoi, Yashiro laughed, making no attempt to be subtle or quiet. “How’d that go so horribly?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” At least he had Aoi, though- “Minamoto-senpai seems fairly resilient.”

Kou, cruel puppeteer that he was, just snorted in amusement. “It’s better than half the ways I’ve woken him up over the years. I once jumped straight on him holding Tiara, because he wouldn’t get up- I swear, he sleeps like the dead. It’s by pure luck alone that I didn’t break anything in any of us.”

Squinting at him, Akane can’t help but wonder what exactly Kou hoped to accomplish by having him wake Teru up, then. Unless it was just to get a kick out of it-

“As if you can talk.” Akane screeched, jerking to the side hard enough that he nearly took Aoi out with him. Somehow, aside from a raised brow thrown his way, far more awake now than he looked before, Teru managed to remain completely unfazed by the whole thing. (Generously, Aoi steadied him, pushing him back into his chair with only a little bit of a struggle.) “You’re easy to wake up, but nobody can share a bed with you and come out unscathed.”

—

A love letter. Stereotypical, but aside from Teru’s polite rejections, he’s only ever seen them go abysmally wrong in media.

Then again, Akane’s luck had been exactly that lately, abysmal. So he wasn’t entirely sure why he was even surprised when he peeked into his bag and saw that it was missing; and then subsequently swore that all the time he spent writing it the night before would not be wasted.

He shook down the first Mokke he saw when stalking through the halls - a nowhere conversation of “What did you fucking do with it,” and several screeches of “I don’t know, I don’t know!”

He tried not to let it get to him when, upon pulling out a spare piece of candy he kept on him to keep from exactly this happening after they’d stolen his pocket watch, he’s met with, “Gave it to Number 7. Intercepted.”

Because of course. Of course his luck had to be so terrible that Hanako got his stupid fucking hands on it - “ You- ”

Hanako’s face brightened for a moment, completely disregarding the danger-signs practically etched into Akane’s face. Then it shifted - sympathetic and piteous and probably fake, switching from sitting to standing on his windowsill-perch the closer Akane got. (He knew Hanako felt fear, but he doubted he felt sympathy; pity, though, maybe. He had long learned that most supernaturals believed themselves to be somewhere he could only define as above. )

He’d be more embarrassed Hanako read it, if he weren’t embarrassed about- “I think it’s sweet, but-”

That.

“What makes you think-” He tried to snatch it from Hanako’s hands, swiftly held high over his head. When Akane planted a foot on the windowsill, he drifted away, toward the stall-doors. He pressed one hand against the wall to steady himself, standing and reaching out, waving his hand in an attempt to catch even just the edge. “It’s for President Minamoto!”

Sympathy-pity abruptly turned into mischief.

Brow arched, Hanako drifted further away from his outstretched hand, leaned far enough forward that, pretty soon, Akane better be learning how to defy gravity. Fuck. “Is it now?”

“Yes, so-” he gave a pitiful wave of his hand, already knowing that this was going to end worse than just poorly “-if you could just give that back- ”

“Or,” Akane’s grip on the wall slipped, forearm slamming into the floor, and his face into his forearm. He was pretty sure he bit his tongue, or his cheek - it was hard to mistake the quickly-growing-familiar tang of blood for anything else. “I could give it to him for you.”

Squinting up at Hanako, he could see him already resealing the letter with a heart-shaped sticker. “Don’t you dare-”

His feet tapped against the ground, just out of Akane’s reach - which didn’t stop him from trying to swipe at his ankles anyway, as he scrambled off the floor. “Call it an apology,” he chirped, taking two steps back, before he pivoted on his heel and fled the bathrooms. Bastard.

By the time he caught up to Hanako, practically half-way across the school, with his dignity shattered against the floor and his will wilting in his hands like choked flowers, he’d already found Teru. (He swore Hanako was fucking with him, what ghost wasted their damn energy on running anyway?) He peered around the wall as much as he could, everything in him screaming to just lay down on the floor and give up.

At least Hanako seemed to be getting his immediate karma, with the way he approached Teru like a scared animal attempting to trust. “So, I found- wait-! Waitwaitwait-” Hanako scrambled, planting himself in front of Teru as soon as he turned to simply leave. Hands outstretched and eye-level.

Slowly, when Teru didn’t seem to react any further than what must’ve been a glare, Hanako presented him with Akane’s mistake of a letter. “I-”

Teru’s sword stabbed through Hanako’s hand - and the several hours Akane’s spent the night before but honestly, he couldn’t blame him. At this point, he was ready to throw it through a shredder anyway.

Hanako screamed.

Akane sunk to the floor, head in his hands and back against the wall, waiting for it to open wide and swallow him whole. Probably more for Kou than anything else, Teru left it at the minor - well, by Teru’s standards, anyway - stabbing, before stalking off down the hall, mood definitely worse. Like hell he was trying again within the week.

(He yanked Hanako out of the air by the ankle as soon as he was sure Teru was far enough away, while he rubbed uselessly as his well-deserved injury. “I told you not to get involved!”

“I was trying to help!”

Helping would’ve been giving him the letter, would’ve been staying out of it - would’ve been bringing the letter back to him as soon as he found out it was Akane’s. He swiped the ruined letter off the floor, hands shaking, and stomped over - stomped on, too, driving his heel as hard into him as he could - Hanako.)

—

"Why don't you do something romantic?" Aoi meant well, cheek rested in her palm in a display he'd seen thousands-on-thousands of times over, over the years. She meant well, because she already put up with enough of his window-ledge, too-late rambles and stream-of-consciousness bad ideas. Things that, without a doubt, would always end with something stupid and far out of his control happening.

He tried to make food for Teru, and he misunderstood. He tried to write a love letter, and Hanako got it ruined. He tried to confess. He tried romantic- and…

He tried flowers. Dragged into some small corner-shop that Aoi liked to frequent before school, with a tag hanging off them that had a dumb, crudely done doodle of glasses - courtesy of Aoi and her shaky right-hand. Regret already nestled itself deep between his ribs before he’d even entered the florists.

(There had been the consideration to just rip the tag off and give them to him anonymously, a moral war that he quickly lost. Aoi was putting up with a lot from him, and even without the deep-rooted romantic ties clouding his judgement, he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.)

And, for it, he was chased through the school halls, over a misunderstanding. Over some evidence-lacking and downright moronic claim that Akane had stolen the flowers from the Practice Garden. As if he'd ever done that before, and ever had the intent to. (For starters, Aoi's were the only ones even worth his time there. For second, like hell he would ruin all of Aoi's hard work for something so selfish.)

Attempts to reason had been in vain.

The stem-snapped, petal-shed flowers that were shoved into Teru’s face as he hid behind him like it would do something was the utterly pathetic cake-topper.

—

Slouched back in his chair, head tossed back, Akane sighed for about the hundredth time. “It’s like everything is determined to go wrong for me - if it’s not a fuck-up on my end, it’s President Minamoto himself screwing it up.”

Pouting, arms crossed, Kou muttered, “That’s not a very fair assessment.”

Akane abruptly straightened. “It’s a perfectly fair assessment!”

“It’s not like he knows what’s going on!” He was really starting to wonder about that, with his immaculately terrible timing, lately. “Besides, isn't it kind of mostly your fault, senpai? You could just tell him. ”

Akane’s face flushed deep red, immediately sputtering out a “No!” followed by a, far louder than it was meant to be, “I absolutely could not!”

Still, despite his immediate, and rather forceful, denial and his heat-lacking glare at Kou, he had to admit - despite the great pain it caused him in doing so - that he wasn’t wrong, and Akane himself was beginning to wonder just how horribly wrong approaching him a second time would go. He never had this issue with Aoi, even though every single confession of his had been rejected and plenty of people confessed before him.

Then again, Akane had never forgotten to confess to her either. It also worked in his favour that they grew up together.

(He didn’t dare to entertain the thought for even a moment that he hadn’t genuinely liked her as he thought he did. Realizing that would just be far too painful.)

And, unlike with Aoi, he and Teru weren’t friends before- everything. Then, to make matters worse, once everything had resolved and calmed back down into some semblance of normalcy - even with somewhat high tensions off the heels of everything that had happened - Akane had thrown himself straight into the deep-end. Furiously and adamantly denying that they were friends, laying it on thick that he thought Teru was the worst person in the world, as if he were making up for lost time, and-

“I’m starting to wonder if you just enjoy making life difficult for your- ah-!” Kou’s arms raised to cover his head, a poor attempt to protect himself from the flimsy, pitifully small, rolled up paper-back Akane chose to weaponize. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry- it was a joke! I was joking!”

“Get better jokes!” Still, he backed off before he could have another incident of Teru waltzing in unannounced and misunderstanding everything.

—

"You've got this."

He was pretty sure Lemon had more faith in him than he very well should, considering how cursed this confession evidently was. Either the world hated him, the world didn't want Teru to date, or both; he supposed making dealings with supernaturals wouldn't exactly put you in the good favour of the deities. Still...

"I've got this." Much less enthusiastic than Lemon's, his chin resting on crossed arms. Lemon didn’t seem very bothered by it, though he wasn’t sure if it was the result of not having been involved with all the other atrocious mistakes or because he genuinely thought this one, this time, would work out.

Akane knew better, by now.

"C'mon," abruptly, he stood straight, Akane mimicking him, albeit far more sluggishly. He didn't really have the energy to go being excited about what'll surely turn out to be another failure. "You're gonna go up to him-" he pulled him up from his seat, ignoring his pretty valiant attempt to flop straight back down into it "-and take him by the shoulders."

"I'm not gonna do that."

With a roll of his eyes, Lemon still grabbed his shoulders. "And you're gonna tell him, I like you Minamoto-senpai! "

Akane hadn't even had the chance to open his mouth and so much as attempt to voice that he didn't call Teru Minamoto-senpai, before he heard a quiet clear of the damned's throat. He didn't even bother to look, simply hanging his head in defeated acceptance.

This was like the fucking Hanako incident all over again.

"Sorry, Yamabuki-san-"

"No, no wait- wait-"

"I don't like you that way..."

Akane gathered himself together as much as he could, lifting his head and finally turning to face Teru. "Is there something you need?"

"It's fine!" Bright and cheerful and fuck he wanted to punch the look off of his face and tell him how fucking stupid he was. To listen for five fucking minutes while Akane tried his best to explain the situation, because if there was one more misunderstanding surrounding this- "I'll give you a few minutes with your friend first."

(One of these days, he was going to burn the entire school to the fucking ground for what it's done to him.)

—

He didn’t know how possible it really was, but Akane swore he was cycling through the 5 stages of grief like it was the worst carousel he’s ever experienced. (Not that he’s been on many of them; but where emotional-roller coasters were involved, Aoi always seemed to be the ride operator. It was almost a surprise to find that for once, she wasn’t - almost because Teru always managed to involve himself in things somehow. )

He’d spent the better half of that morning pacing, seconds from biting his nails down to nubs, and yelling at anyone who dared to enter the student council room. Yashiro, with some grand new plan that was probably from Hanako. Kou, who just wanted to bring him a snack, which he kind of felt bad about after because he was just trying to help ease his nerves.

Aoi. Who didn’t get yelled at so much as Akane had spun her around no more than five steps into the room and promptly walked her straight back out of the room.

And then Teru. Fake-innocent as ever, smiling, though confused, halfway through his sentence before Akane had even properly registered he was there- “Kou and Yashiro told me you-”

And then immediately yelled at him to “Get, out! ”

It had taken him several minutes after the door had shut to even realize what he’d done.

So yeah, cycling through the five stages of grief like a fucked-up carousel on Aoi’s floor, one of her throw pillows shoved over his face, and his window left open in case of a hasty exit. Blaming her, and the rest of those morons for their well-intentioned steam-roller personalities.

“You could have told him sooner, you know. Before getting anyone else involved.”

How many times was he going to fail and be told that before they realized that he was so adamant against it for a reason.  

How many times would they tell him that, with- probably Aoi in mind, before coming to the understanding that her and Teru just weren’t the same. He’d known Aoi practically since he could form memories; not Teru. He and Aoi had been good friends, at first; not he and Teru.

Teru had been something more of a child’s-fear-turned-general-nuisance, at first. Honestly, part of him still expected Teru to string him up from the ceiling for even daring to confess to him to begin with. He knew it was melodramatics, but knowing did little to help.

He threw the pillow at her, satisfied with her quiet oof. “Shut up.”

(He still couldn’t help but smile when she laughed - seeming more than happy with the turn their relationship had taken.)

—

After the last disaster - yelling at Teru as he had and overhearing Kou and Yashiro laugh about it in the hall afterward had not been among the highlights of his day - he finally, seriously debated the worth of just outright telling Teru. His last attempt had- well- sort of been an attempt to do so. He wasn’t actually sure what he would’ve done if he’d gotten as far as actually talking to him. And it didn’t matter, anyway, since the others had gotten involved.

Maybe he just needed to uninvolve them; specifically Yashiro, who got most of her ideas either from various Shoujo manga, or her possibly skewed memories of whatever Hanako had her do.

(Though he was loath to admit that something like a love letter or a gift wasn’t the worst possible advice.)

Fingers snapped in front of his face, a quiet, “Aoi,” following after.

And, idiot that Akane was, he yelled back, “It’s Akane!”

Teru startled, hand still half-raised and poised like he planned to snap his fingers again, in case Akane hadn’t answered. Slowly, the shock melted away into confusion, eyes flicking between the papers strewn across the table, and Akane himself - and, apparently, Akane’s quickly frying brain decided the best course of action from there was to dig his grave.

“I…like you, so…it’s Akane.” There, he said it. Kind of.

Stiltedly and awkwardly, sure, but there was no possible way that could go over Teru’s head. Stilted and awkward, but still a confession, so all he had to do was wait for Teru’s answer and try not to spiral too hard - after all, the worst Teru could say was no, right? Maybe string him up later, when the student council room was empty, for messing with him or something. Nothing he hasn’t faced before! It would be fine, even if it wasn’t what he meant to say. Not that he was sure what exactly he meant to say.

Somehow more confused, though smiling somewhere between that and polite, Teru gave a slow nod. “I’m…it’s-” awkwardly he pat Akane’s shoulder, giving him another slow nod. “Congrats on figuring that out. I just needed your opinion about something, though.”

Never mind. “Ah.” Apparently it could go so far over his head. Either Teru was willfully ignorant, or he really was just that dense.

He nodded, carefully turning himself back towards the papers and the desk - and promptly let his head fall onto the table, fingers laced together against the back of his head.

Fantastic.

“Akane?” A small, careful nudge at his shoulder. “Akane…?”

—

"You can call me Teru, by the way."

Akane blinked, lifting his head and staring owlishly at Teru, uttering a single, small, dumb, “Huh?” as all of his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Teru. He could call him Teru. It felt like leaps and bounds, despite his immediate rationalization that it was likely just pity, considering the spectacular trainwreck from the day before.

And Teru, the bastard, didn’t even bother to look up at him, swiftly continuing on as if this was a totally normal interaction for them to have, as he pulled a couple sheets free from a pile of papers and handed them off to Akane. Maybe it was normal - maybe Teru gave up on making sense of the everything surrounding Akane lately, it wasn’t like the last few weeks were status quo or anything. He couldn’t blame him, if he had.

“Can you bring those to the Gardening club? Akane-san or Yashiro-san should know what to do with them.”

His eyes flicked down to the papers in his hands, then back to Teru, a what? resting right at the tip of his tongue. Completely unfazed, Teru had already moved onto something else, skimming over some whatever on the computer next to him, shooing Akane away with his other hand.

And, obediently, more than welcoming of the out he’s just been given, he stood and left. It was a great excuse to tell Aoi and Yashiro about this recent development, anyway.

(He was probably expected to be in-and-out at the practice garden. Still, he found himself crouched in the dirt beside Aoi with a plastic container in his hands, shoved almost carelessly at him while Aoi nodded and skimmed over the oh-so important papers he'd given her; a poorly drawn flower he'd managed to catch a glimpse of.

Which begged more questions than it gave answers.

Another grub dropped into the container, plinking against the bottom of it in a manner that still had Akane occasionally cringing away from the association of Aoi and bugs. Brushing it aside, he leaned forward onto the balls of his feet; worries and anxieties be damned, he still had good news to give, even if it meant keeping the student council waiting. "He told me I could call him Teru!"

Another plink of a bug into the container, paired with Aoi's deceptively even smile - for all she's done to accept and embrace herself as she was, she still struggled not to exist simply as an appearance. "That's fantastic, Akane-"

Wait - he leaned back onto his heels, worrying the edges of the bug-container - worries and anxieties not be damned. "What if it's pity? Because of yesterday."

Aoi, with a centipede pinched between two of her fingers and still writhing, stared at him pityingly. )

—

“Kou.”

Kou yelped, scrambling to regain his hold on the spatula he near-launched into the air. He met Teru’s worried and mildly concerned look with his own nervous smile. “How can I help you?”

He knew he should ask, he needed- well, no, he wanted an answer about Akane’s strange behaviour lately, and Kou seemed to be in-the-know about it. He’d caught glimpses of what seemed to be Akane lamenting his most recent woes to Kou, and Kou playing his dutiful part of sympathetic-shoulder-to-cry-on.

But, he wondered if he should ask Kou - granted, he doubted Aoi would give him a straight answer, adamant as she was to be as cryptic and indirect as possible about the things she didn’t want to answer, instead of smiling and giving polite non-answers. And he was happy for her, really, that she felt she could be like that with him and the other three, but- it would be too frustrating to deal with right now.

Yashiro would probably stare at him too starry-eyed to actually give him any clear answers, despite everything - despite seeing the horrible sides of himself he hid away behind polite smiles, and his heat-of-the-moment far-shore claim to Kou that he was positive Yashiro had, by now, heard secondhand and-

He really worried for her, sometimes, despite.

As for Akane himself…

He just had to bite the bullet. “Has Akane been acting strange, lately?”

Immediately, Kou’s shoulders tensed and his smile grew rigid, as if the corners of his mouth were pulled taught by strings. As if he were struggling to keep it on his face by any means necessary, and not crack under the pressure of the sheer whatever that seemed to associate itself with Akane lately; growing in little patches like some sort of contagious moss biome.

Where they all fucking with him, was that it?

“Aoi-senpai’s always strange.”

Which…fair. He was, but- “This is different.” He waved a dismissive hand, taking a seat at the table - and valiantly trying to ignore the way Kou followed his every move; great at lying, until outright asked, and then it seemed like all the pent up guilt from it overflowed in sheer seconds. Kou, with his bleeding sleeve-heart, was honest to a fault. “He told me I could call him Akane. Or, well, less told, and more demanded I do.”

Kou slowly nodded. “Senpai told me.”

Of course she did; he’d sent Akane off so he could gossip or vent, or whatever it was he did with Yashiro and Aoi whenever Minamoto Teru was involved, lately. “I figured.” That didn’t make the situation any less frustratingly confusing, though. “Kou, be honest with me-”

“I’m always honest with you.”

He bit back his immediate response of are you, though? That wasn’t a conversation for now - and probably wasn’t one they would ever properly have. “Are you all screwing with me? Is this one big joke, or something? Because if so, I think it’s played its course.”

Kou, offended and frantic, whirled around and stared at him wide-eyed. Well, at least a joke was ruled out - Kou’s reaction alone was enough, even without his too-loud, “No, of course not!” Which left either: Teru did something, and now Akane was acting weird because of it - he couldn’t imagine it was related to the Severance, unless it was some belated realization that’s yet to catch up with Teru - or this was entirely Akane’s own disaster, and somehow it related to Teru, and- “But- I- I can’t really be the one to tell you what’s going on.”

And-

Ah.

Hold on.

Before he could fully think it through, deeply amused with the idea that all of this had been attempts at confessions and that, shockingly, Akane was terrible at it - as though he’d learned nothing from rejection after rejection from Aoi - Teru asked, “Is there a chance that Akane’s fallen for me?”

Because oh, would that explain so much, if so.

And, once again, expressive as ever, Kou gave an answer, in the form of a flinch, head turned away and ducked like a turtle trying to hide, his free hand fidgeting with the omamori that hung from his earring.

Benevolently, Teru allowed the conversation to end there; all that was left was to just let this play out how it would.

Fun - he’s never actually gotten a confession he wanted to accept before.

—

Akane’s head dropped onto Teru’s shoulder. He’s exhausted, more than, really, both physically and mentally. Weeks of poor sleep finally caught up to him, ready to slam into the backs of his knees and sweep his legs out from underneath him - and if it did, he’d probably let it. Spending all his free time thinking up different confessions like some screwed up game of whack-a-mole- he wasn’t unused to it, though the addition of others helping was certainly new, and somehow it felt far more taxing.

Maybe since with Aoi it was more about something meant to take her breath away, and with Teru, he was struggling to just be sincere.

It’s another thought he refused to actually delve into and explore, because the sheer idea of everything surrounding that wasn’t a landmine he wanted to jump on quite yet. (He’s positive he loved Aoi, he’s positive he loves Aoi, even if it’s different now - that’s all he needed to know, right now.)

Teru’s fingers brush through his hair, cheek pressed against his head, probably staring at the school waiting for Kou, as Akane’s fingers weave their way into the fabric of Teru’s jacket - but the mental-image of Teru with his eyes shut, calmly enjoying the moment was a nice one.

“I meant it, you know.” A quiet, questioning hum. Akane steeled his nerves, gripping the hem of Teru’s jacket tighter. “When I said I liked you, I meant that.”

“I know.”

He moved to raise his head, Teru’s hand pressing back against it to keep him from doing so. “You-”

“I figured it out a few days after. I figured that probably wasn’t how you wanted to do it, so I didn’t say anything!” Akane’s eye twitched, Teru’s tone too bright and cheery for the amount of shit he, however indirectly, had put Akane through over the past month-or-so. “In the end, the actual confession turned out a lot cuter than I thought!” He laughed lightly, nuzzling his cheek into Akane’s hair, completely ignoring Akane’s very quickly rising anger. “I like you too!”

On one hand, he could ignore Teru’s blatant teasing - it was begrudgingly one of the many things that came with Teru, just as worrying about his safety at night and his deep contemplation about charmed tools were (though he still wondered about the existence of those, or if those charms were limited to the bell Aoi had grown attached to).

On the other, he could really test the waters, and see if he still managed to get a boyfriend out of this if he chased Teru through the school halls.

Probably - if Teru genuinely liked him, then something like that was just one of the several parts that came with Akane - but the fingers carding through his hair were nice, and the quiet was nice, and for once he was fine to just let it be.

(It did not stop him from chasing him through side streets, with Kou’s commandeered staff in hand and Teru’s hands covering the back of his head.)