Chapter Text
“Gaahhh, it burns…! The light—! It burns~!”
Ritsu shields himself from the sun’s rays with help of a thick, fuzzy blanket as Mao tears open his curtains. There’s a particular fervor in the action; one that’s brimming with vexation, and Ritsu can tell he’s probably not getting out of this one. It’s the third time this week he’s slept through his alarm, forcing a less-than-jovial Mao to pry him out of bed since he just can’t seem to do it himself.
“Come on, Ritsu... I’m tired too, you know? Please get up already.”
“I don’t wanna…”
“There are lots of things we don’t wanna do in life, but we have to do them anyway. Get up.”
Mao uses the limit of his strength at seven in the morning to rip the covers off of Ritsu, who groans loudly in response, while Mao balls them up and tosses them onto the floor. In a passive thought, he wonders if he should’ve grabbed a spray bottle full of water—that usually gets Ritsu up and around, although not cordially.
Ritsu is stubborn as ever in the mornings, and Mao just can’t always find it in himself to be all that patient when he’s also groggy and moody too, so he often comes across more stern than usual around this time of day. This morning, of course, is no exception. He half-sneers down at Ritsu, who’s now curling up into himself like a belligerent kitten.
“Ugh.” Ritsu sits upright, rubbing his eye. “Help me get dressed then, Maa-kun...”
“What? No! Are you five years old?!" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just get ready, will you?”
And so Ritsu reluctantly concedes, putting on his clothes at a snail’s pace while Mao taps his foot impatiently against hardwood floors. After dropping two slices of bread into the toaster, one for each of them, and giving them a nice helping of strawberry jam, Ritsu and Mao are out the door.
They’ve done this hundreds of times by now. So much so that it feels like second nature, and that it would feel wildly unnatural to break this routine. Once Mao steps onto his front porch, his legs are working almost autonomously as they take a sharp turn towards Ritsu’s house, keys jingling against his front door—of course, he has his own spare key by now—as they always have, almost every day now, for the past decade.
And now they’re both on their way to school, munching on slices of toast, Mao opting to wipe away the crumbs that fall onto the front of his blazer.
“Oh, Ritsu,” Mao starts between his munches, “did I tell you about yesterday?”
“Mmm… You mean the huge cockroach in your dorm room?”
“No, no, not that. I meant the things I got.”
“Wuh…?” Ritsu hums to himself in thought, staring upwards. “I don’t remember… What was it?”
“Ah, yeah, so…” Mao’s finishing up his toast by now, clapping the crumbs off of his hands and wiping them onto the pants of his school uniform. He’s noticeably giddier at the prospect of having another person to tell the story to, and subconsciously picks up his pace after glancing at the time on his phone. “I was walking through town with Arashi yesterday, and she pointed out one of the new booths that they have, so we walked up to it and saw it was a street lottery.”
“Ooh, what’d you win?”
“I’m getting there. Basically, she encouraged me to draw something, so I did, and I got—” he rummages around in his school bag for a moment, “—these! Check it out!”
In Mao’s hand are what looks to be tickets—four of them, to be exact, fanned out between his thumb and pointer finger. He shoves them back down into his bag with haste as if someone would run up and snatch them.
“What’re they for?” Ritsu asks, eyes still following Mao’s hands as he snaps his bag closed.
“They’re travel vouchers! The hotel is paid for, and some of the vacation destinations are paid for, too. I can’t believe I won four tickets!”
“Ooh, how fun~… That’s really lucky, Maa-kun. Who are you gonna bring?”
“Well, I wanted to bring you and Arashi of course, but that leaves us with one ticket left over. Is there anyone you’d want to tag along?”
“Mmm…” Ritsu drones, cycling through a list of people in his mind as possible contenders.
But before he can finish his thought, Mao interrupts him with an idea.
“Oh! How about we make it a double date?”
Double… date?
Ritsu stiffens at the proposal.
“Ah, but,” Mao continues, “you wouldn’t have a date, would you?”
There’s an inkling of goading, playful pity in his voice as he elbows Ritsu’s side. That taunting sneer-slash-smile of his isn’t doing Ritsu's ego any favors, he realizes, and he scoffs, averting his eyes to the side. Mao is quick to reassure him just as playfully.
“Aww, no need to be upset. It’s okay! You can third wheel if you want!”
“Shut the hell up, stupid Maa-kun!” He grits his teeth, sharp vampire-esque canines digging into the skin of his inner lip. “I’m not upset! You don’t know anything about me! Just shut up!”
Now Ritsu’s throwing a series of vengeful punches to Mao's shoulder, who laughs between a series of repeated ow’s and stop’s.
“I surrender, I surrender!” Mao gives in, hoping that’ll get Ritsu to stop bruising up his biceps. “You can invite anyone you want! Just let me know who, and try to find someone before spring break if you can. If you change your mind, I’ll give the ticket away or something... Jeez, why did you have to punch me so hard? That really freakin' hurt!”
Ritsu shows Mao’s upper arm a little bit of mercy, but that doesn’t stop his mind from wandering, and he starts to chew on the pout that forms across his lips. He has a lot of people he could invite, sure, but who’s to say they aren’t already busy for spring break, or that they’d even be willing to tag along for three days with Arashi and Mao too?
He can't help but think that Mao's really done it now. Who on earth does he think he is teasing Ritsu of all people? He’s not just gonna let that sidle on by as if it didn’t happen, because that would be a clear admission of defeat, and Ritsu will not be doing that. Not now, not ever. The words he feels bubbling up in the back of his throat aim to make that clear.
“ ... I’m… ” he mutters, just barely under his breath.
“What’s that?” Mao leans in closer.
The spark has been kindled. No, the fire has been ignited. The gears turn, and that avidity materializes into Ritsu’s fists, both of which are clenched tightly at his sides, fingernails buried deep into palms.
“I’m... already in a relationship with someone... So I'll bring them with me.”
Ritsu clenches his jaw as the lie spills out of him faster than his brain can even process why on earth he just said that. He braces himself for Mao’s reaction. The regret’s already starting to fester.
Mao’s pace slows, then halts, and now he’s staring at Ritsu with absurdly wide eyes.
“And,” Ritsu digs himself impossibly deeper into this hole, “we’ll have a good time. A great time, even. An even better time than you and Nacchan will.”
Mao shakes his head in pure confusion. “Hold on, what the hell? Since when did all of this happen?! You never told me you were dating someone!”
“Uhh… no time for details. We’re gonna be late.”
Obviously avoiding the question, Ritsu starts to speed walk, and Mao stumbles as he tries to keep up. Never in his life has Ritsu wanted so badly to be at school, because all he can think about is his desire for this conversation to end.
“What?! Come on! You can't leave me hanging on this!”
“No time!”
“Ritsu!”
The pavement transitions to an expanse of stone brick inlays, which means they’ve finally arrived at school. Mao pries a little more, but after several minutes of bickering, he forfeits, reluctantly waving Ritsu off and heading his separate way almost immediately. He won't—and can’t, since he's almost late—probe any further; but this information sits heavy on slouched shoulders as he walks away.
An almost cartoonishly large bead of sweat rolls down Ritsu’s forehead as he recounts just how close of a call that was.
He's unsure of why he thought saying that would be a good idea. Or, honestly, how he even managed to get away with it. The made up "competition" Mao proposed out of nowhere made him speak without thinking first, and so he just said whatever, and it was like a heat of the moment kinda thing, and he's gonna stop trying to reason things out because that was idiotic and he knows it.
But that doesn't change the fact that he can’t take back what’s already been said.
There's no more time to second guess. Now that he's gotten himself into this mess, he has no choice but to find his own way out of it. If there's anything that he can't help but indulge in from time to time, it's a challenge, even if things weren't really supposed to be like this.
The first step?
Somehow finding a date and having the best vacation he possibly can.
━━━━━━
The sun is hot. Sweltering. Shining its rays of heat death down onto the student body of Yumenosaki Academy.
At least, that’s how it feels as Ritsu’s splayed uncomfortably across the lap of his unitmate, fanning his own face with his hands.
He can’t hide the fact that he’s sweating bullets right now even though they’re both seated on a bench directly under the forgiving shade of a big tree.
Despite the fact that spring has just barely begun, it’s already unbelievably hot outside, and all Ritsu can think about is air conditioning and ice cream and cold, fizzy soda.
“It’s… so… hot… ” Ritsu groans, allowing pauses in his cadence for dramatic effect. “I’m gonna die…”
“My, my, Ritsu-chan,” Arashi begins, stroking gentle fingers through his hair, “your forehead’s all sticky, and it’s only eighty degrees outside. Why don’t you take off your blazer for a little while? There aren’t any teachers nearby.”
“Mmmhhh… too… tired…”
“If you’re so tired, then why don’t you stop wasting all this energy moaning and groaning? Stress is bad for your skin, you know.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, Nacchan… I just need to…” He groans again. “Ughhh….”
“Oh dear… What’s got you so worked up?”
Ritsu sighs smally, finding it within himself to sit upright and turn to lean his head on Arashi’s shoulder. “It’s about those tickets Maa-kun got…”
“You mean the ones from the lottery? What about them?”
“Maa-kun invited me to tag along with his remaining tickets, and said I could invite someone of my own if I wanted… But—”
Crap, he stops himself, I probably shouldn't admit to Nacchan that I lied to Maa-kun… She’ll definitely tell him, and then I'll be screwed…
“ —uhh, my partner and I are… having an argument right now, so… I can't ask them to come with me until we stop fighting.”
Nice save.
“What?! Partner?! Since when were you dating someone, Ritsu-chan?!”
Oh, come on.
“Tsk,” Ritsu clicks his tongue in an attempt to hide his nerves, “that’s… private information…”
“Who is it, who is it?! Can you tell me?! Please tell me!”
“I said it’s private! You’ll find out who it is on the day of the trip, anyway… Uh, if we don't break up over this fight, I mean." He crosses his arms. "Ugh, y’know… the more you pry, the less comfortable I feel telling you… Maybe I should just go to someone else for advice...”
Arashi frowns, crossing her arms. “Hmph, you're no fun, Ritsu-chan~... Fine, I won't pry. Just hurry up and solve your little marriage dispute so you're not raining on our parade the whole time!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Ritsu slumps a bit. It doesn't feel too great to lie through his teeth like this, but he reasons that he has no other choice.
“You poor soul.” Arashi caresses his shoulder tenderly, conjuring up some worthwhile advice on a whim. “While I don't know the extent of the situation, I know a piece of advice that never fails. That is, try and think about how the other person would feel. If you were in their shoes, what would you want to hear? You’d need to give a good reason to convince them, no? Just be honest and genuine if you want them to forgive you, and they'll accept the ticket without a doubt~”
“A good reason… Like what?”
“Oh, my… If only I had the answer to that. Unfortunately, I’m not omniscient, nor am I a mind-reader. It's not my fault you want to keep to yourself like a stubborn little rascal.”
Ritsu grumbles at her nothingburger of an answer, long eyelashes fluttering closed atop smooth, pale cheeks. Though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t beginning to unravel that chunk of advice in his mind. It’s at least worth letting stew on the backburner.
Just as he feels his consciousness drift, the school bell rings, and lunch break is over.
━━━━━━
It’s… light. Almost blindingly light. Ritsu shields his eyes as the scene comes into view, slowly but surely, simply allowing his eyes to adjust, squinting impossibly small but still curious enough to try and make an effort at seeing the world around him.
He blinks a few times. Things are getting clearer now, he thinks. Maybe.
There are particles making themselves known in his peripheral vision, and upon closer inspection, they seem to take on a pink hue. In spite of the dizzying blur, he can tell what these are.
Cherry blossoms.
And now the stretch of landscape in front of him, all lush and green and dancing the breeze’s ballet, is starting to make sense. Verdant green earth is interwoven with concrete and brick pathways, of which are beautifully ordinated around their perimeter with unnaturally smooth stones and pebbles. He can feel this land beneath him; a sensation clear as day, even through the soles of his shoes. The earth’s fresh, dewy scent mixes with that of cherry blossoms in his hair, and he’s compelled to take a step forward. Then another, and then another.
He feels the presence of a figure standing idly next to him. He’s moving, but the figure is still. Why is that?
What if it's dangerous? What if Ritsu is trying to get away even if he doesn’t know it? What if this is all a bad idea, and he’s not ready, and Ritsu can’t possibly know where to go or where this path leads because the world is covered in a blinding white haze?
But an even bigger question lingers in Ritsu’s mind as he stares down toward his own two feet.
Who are you?
The unknown terrifies him.
Ritsu can feel his clothes against his own skin. His hair against his own face, his chapped lips chafing as he presses them together. Curiosity seizes control of his better judgment.
He can feel each tendon laboring in unison as he turns his neck to the side, and he angles his head slightly upward, his vision panning up and up and up even more as the figure finally comes into view and Ritsu is able to see that it’s—
“Ah—! Cold!”
A can of soda is icy against Ritsu’s cheek, and it snaps him awake almost instantly; not without a quiet hiss, though.
“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.”
“E-Eh? What…?”
“You fell asleep in the hallway again. Are you alright?” It’s Mao, gesturing the drink that was just pressed against Ritsu’s cheek toward him. He accepts it, still dazed, as Mao cracks open the tab of his own soda and sips up the little bit that spills around the rim. “What was up with that strange expression you were making just now? Your eyebrows were all scrunched together, like you were thinking super hard… Were you having a bad dream or something?”
“No, I…” He rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I dunno...”
He slides his back up against the wall as Mao crouches down to his level, and a few short yet sharp pains notify Ritsu of just how uncomfortable that position on the floor really was. But luckily the corridors are air-conditioned, so it’s not like it’s unbearably hot, and that's all Ritsu needs to get a snooze on.
As someone who gets a whole lot of sleep, Ritsu is no stranger to weird and off-putting dreams. This one wasn’t even near the top ten of his most cryptic, but it was still weird; he can at least admit that much. It left him feeling… empty, in a way, or rather like something was incomplete, like a horror movie cutting off right before the killer takes off their mask, or a book with a page or two torn out. He shifts the blame to Mao for waking him up right before the grand reveal; and he's tempted to pinch his leg for revenge, but he refrains because he’s feeling oh-so-generous.
“Is school over?” Ritsu asks, a semblance of a yawn stirring in the back of his throat.
“Just ended,” Mao responds, scrolling through something on his phone. “I’d love to sit and chat for longer, but I have three days’ worth of stuco paperwork to get myself ahead on. Just wanted to stop by and make sure you were awake so I could let you know I can't walk you home today.”
“Wuhh? I can just wait until you’re done, can’t I…? Do you need help so you can finish the work faster?”
“Nah, don’t worry. Makoto’s gonna help me out, and I convinced Tori to help earlier, too. If I need another pair of hands, though, I’ll call you.”
“Tsk… So I’m just a last resort…” Ritsu crosses his arms. “I see how it is…”
“Oops, wow, would you look at the time? Gotta blast now! Bye!”
Ritsu sticks his tongue out playfully at Mao’s facetious evasion and watches him run off, slumping down further against the wall shortly after. The condensation from the soda can makes his slender fingers feel ice cold. He taps a fingernail against the thin aluminum to the tune of a song that was stuck in Arashi’s head earlier, probably thinking, ‘Thanks a lot, Nacchan, now it’s stuck in mine.’
He remembers their conversation from earlier, and subsequently finds himself recalling Arashi’s advice.
「 If you were in their shoes, what would you want to hear? You’d need to give a good reason to convince them, no? 」
Although her advice wasn’t exactly relevant to Ritsu’s actual struggle, he finds that it's broad enough to apply here anyway. He needs to find a way—a good reason—to convince someone to go on this vacation with him.
And agree to it being a double date with Arashi and Mao.
And pretend that they’ve been dating Ritsu prior to the vacation.
For three whole days, too.
Ugh. This is hopeless, isn't it?
Alright, no, thinking about it negatively won't do anyone any good. He could just be attacking this all wrong, and he just needs to start from the beginning. Start somewhere strong and work from the ground up to develop a game plan of sorts.
Yeah, okay. A game plan.
So, the game plan is…
Hm. He has no game plan, either.
He grumbles silently, tracing a dent in his soda can with the tip of his pointer finger. Ritsu needs to figure this all out pronto or his conscience won’t ever let him hear the end of it, but how the hell is he going to find someone to agree to this? Like, seriously, how? Jeez, things are all starting to feel really hopeless really fast.
The mental checklist he files through does him no favors, either.
I can ask Secchan, maybe…? No, no, he’s already landed in Italy by now, so I can't ask him. Also… gross. Secchan's kind of a freak.
Carbonation from his drink bubbles in between his lips. Think, Ritsu, think...
Maybe Mikarin could help me out…?
But after giving that one another second of thought, he shakes his head defeatedly.
No, no, that wouldn't work either… I’m not so sure his Oshi-san would be very happy knowing he's pretending to be in a relationship with me... Ugh, damn it. This is so much work.
The long winded sigh he lets out is barely intentional. People keep walking fast around the corner where he’s half-sitting-half-lying down, which Ritsu turns into a good enough excuse as to why he can’t really think straight right now. He needs some fresh air, maybe, or to lay down somewhere much cozier. Yeah, maybe that'd help... So maybe he can just procrastinate this whole thing a tiny bit more until he goes outside... eventually...
He stands up, and his knees are kind of sore and wobbly from that criss-cross applesauce position on the floor, and before he knows it he—
WHAM!
There’s an eruption of bright crimson. It stains blue blazers purple with its morose hue.
Time stills. Piercing gazes turn their attention towards the collision.
Its victim’s own red eyes make themselves known from behind heavy lids.
Ritsu reveals his pain with a shrill, strident cry.
“Nooo! My drink!”
“Oh no!” The other says, “I’m so sorry—”
“Ugh... It’s okay… I wasn’t looking ahead of me…”
They continue to exchange apologetic nothings, and it takes Ritsu a moment to realize that the collective gawking from hallway passerby is suddenly making him red with fluster. That collision was embarrassingly intense, and sticky soda is clinging to his hair and skin and is just making him feel disgusting and—
“Wait, Yuu-kun?”
“Ahh, my glasses…” He mutters frantically, ignoring the mention of his name and using his hand as a sort of visor to hide his face. He's surveying the floor with squinted eyes, and Ritsu can sense the panicked air about him. “They must’ve fallen off when I ran into you… Sorry, Ritsu-kun… D-Do you see them anywhere?”
“Uh,” Ritsu makes an attempt to disregard the sugary sticky sensory nightmare and searches for Makoto’s signature blue frames amongst the hurried steps of hallway-goers. They're hard to miss, though, with that vibrant blue color; Ritsu spots them a few feet away almost immediately. “Oh, I can see them. They’re over there.”
He picks them up and swiftly hands them over to Makoto.
“T-Thank you…”
“No worries.”
The passerby have started to go about themselves now, already bored and unconcerned by the impact.
“Sorry for running into you like that,” Makoto apologizes as he affixes his glasses against the bridge of his nose, and he breathes out a relieved sigh, but the huge cherry-red stain that paints Ritsu’s whole front side is undeniable, and suddenly an apology doesn’t feel like quite enough. He gulps down the lump in his throat almost comically. “Oh, jeez, your uniform…! I-I can pay for your dry cleaning if you want! I don’t have any cash on me right now, but…!”
“Ah, no, don’t worry about it... It’s whatever.”
“Are… are you sure? Let me at least buy you a new drink, or—”
“I told you, it’s fine. It’ll probably come out with soap and water.” Ritsu feels around at some parts of his hair, assessing the damage, brow furrowed in moderate annoyance. “Why were you in such a rush anyway?”
“Er, that’s… Well, I was supposed to meet Isara-kun in the student council room a little bit ago, but I got caught up in something and realized I was running late, so I just booked it… I’m sorry again for being so careless.” Makoto bows a little too low for a mistake this miniscule, but Ritsu isn’t in the mood to keep insisting that it’s fine. “I have to go now, but… feel free to message me if you change your mind about the dry cleaning. You can get my number from Isara-kun. Um… yeah. See you.”
Ritsu follows Makoto with his gaze for a little while as he leaves. He’s still noticeably rushing, albeit more careful this time, making sure to dodge around the other people littering the corridor and muttering short lived apologies to anyone he bumps—or even almost bumps—into.
Before he can make it to the end of the hallway, though, something flutters out of Makoto’s bag amidst his haste.
It slides across the ceramic hallway floors for a quick second, getting kicked around a couple times by wholly uninterested pairs of shoes, so Ritsu, feeling like the only one who even noticed, stands up and goes to grab it.
“Wait, Yuu-kun, you dropped—” his voice rises as he chases after Makoto slowly, picking up what looks to be a piece of paper and turning it over in his hand, but his shock stops that train of thought midway.
It's not just a piece of paper. It's an envelope. There’s a piece of paper inside judging by its thickness, or maybe more than one piece of paper, but it's hard to tell.
Based on the writing in pen on the envelope’s backside, it was clearly addressed to someone, but the name’s been scribbled out beyond recognition. No matter how hard he scrutinizes the writing, he finds this part is hard to tell, too.
But what Ritsu can tell for sure is that it’s sealed closed with a red heart sticker.
It’s a love letter.
━━━━━━
The sound of pens against paper is getting sort of unbearable at this point.
It’s creeping into the early hours of the evening, and warm slivers of yellow-orange crawl their way onto the cluttered surface of the stuco room’s main desk. The room’s quiet enough that even the gentle susurration of tree leaves outside makes itself intelligibly known.
Mao tosses his pen and groans.
After a few hours and more than a few hand stretching sessions, Mao and Makoto are finally reaching the last few pages of paperwork from a stack that’d dwindled down impossibly slow. It felt like it’d never end, but that feeling wasn't anything a can or two of energy drinks couldn’t fix.
“Mmm, looks like we’re getting close to being done… We can finish things up in the next fifteen minutes or so if we maintain this pace…” Mao stifles a yawn and throws his arms up in a stretch. “Thanks for helping me out. I know this stuff’s pretty boring.”
“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m happy to! I would've felt terrible if I didn’t give it my all after you asked for my help!”
Mao responds with a quiet sigh. “Can’t argue with that. I know firsthand how hard it is to say no. Normally I’d just brute force through it all myself, but I can only do so much…” He scratches the back of his head coarsely. “Plus, I’d rather start my vacation off with a full night’s sleep, anyway.”
Makoto tilts his head at this, averting his attention from the paperclip he’s been fiddling with to Mao’s words. “Vacation?”
“Wait, did I not tell you?” The redhead leans forward slightly in surprise. “I won a street lottery recently and got a few travel vouchers as a prize. Four, actually."
“Ah… Really?” Makoto blinks falteringly. “I see… U-Um, nice! It’s good we’re getting caught up, because then you won't have to worry about it later...!"
Makoto’s expression sags considerably, as does Mao’s heart when he notices this.
“Oh, jeez… I’m so sorry, Makoto, I totally would've brought you with, but I invited my girlfriend and then Ritsu, and I told Ritsu he could invite whoever he wanted, and… I just wasn't even thinking. We’ll do something fun like that together soon, cross my heart.”
“D-Don’t apologize! It’s your trip, don't make it about me! I enjoy being home playing games anyway! I know you're a people-pleaser and all, but seriously, don't worry about it."
Makoto trails off with a chuckle, mindlessly scribbling random geometric shapes on a sticky note to ease the tension in his slight jab.
Mao lends him a soft frown. “If you say so… Are you really sure it's okay?”
“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t it be?”
The silence afterward persists for a little while, and Mao folds his arms atop the desk and rests his cheek upon them. He can’t help how another sigh softly escapes his lips, and he allows his eyes to flutter closed. He wasn’t planning on sleeping—not when they were so close to finishing—but the idea of getting some rest sounds really appealing right now. Makoto picks up on that.
“Hey, don’t sleep now,” he says, a gentle rue in his tone, “I’m sorry. I kinda made things awkward, didn’t I? Don’t feel bad, Isara-kun. Do you want me to get you something to drink? Maybe it’ll give you the energy to finish things up…?”
And Mao only responds with a reluctant hum, burying his face further into his arms, but Makoto’s known him long enough to tell he’s just giving an indirect ‘yes’. With that, Makoto quietly pushes out his chair and is already up and gone from the room.
Mao’s always kept his nose to the grindstone, and while it’s certainly admirable, it can often feel like a cause for concern. Makoto can’t help but feel his heart sink when he sees his best friend in this state; obviously tired, stressed out of his mind, and yet he still somehow managing to grin and bear through it all.
It’s this admiration he holds for Mao that catalyzes a serious lapse in Makoto’s self-esteem. Cue the overthinking. Really, he broods, if Mao says he’s falling behind in Trickstar, then what does that say about himself? What place does he have next to someone like Mao? And next to the rest of Trickstar, at that?
As much as he hates to admit it, seeing Mao prepare for this trip really did make him jealous. Just a little bit. It’s not necessarily that he thinks he deserves a place in Mao’s mind more than anyone else, but rather that he wonders if he perhaps hasn’t done enough to earn that place, or maybe Mao doesn’t hold him in as high a regard as he previously thought, or—
Okay, no, stop. He has to remind himself that Mao wouldn’t want for him to think this way.
As far as Makoto could tell, Mao really did feel guilty for not being able to invite him, and as easy as it is for him to spiral into a self-loathing mess, Makoto realizes that. Luckily, a few deep breaths is all it takes to get him thinking in a more positive direction.
It’s not Mao’s fault that he has so many people in his life that he loves, and he really does try to put them all first, but that’s not always an option.
Sigh.
He’s had his finger hovered over the ‘coffee’ option on the vending machine for a while now. Unsure of how long it’s been, he snaps out of it and pushes the button after feeding the machine some cash, sheepishly looking around just to be sure no one saw him frozen in place like that. The machine spits out two cans of coffee, and Makoto is quick to crack open the tab of one, since maybe these dreadful thoughts are a product of lethargy? Despite the alarming amount of caffeine already in his system from those energy drinks earlier, he’s able to successfully convince himself that's the reason. He takes a long, drawn-out swig.
And now he's turning on his heel with intention of hurrying back to the stuco room when a distant conversation suddenly piques his interest.
He’s not exactly sure why, and normally he would never do this, but his intrigue draws him nearer and nearer to the noise.
Really, he should be heading back now, because what if Mao’s drifting off? He should wake him up before he enters a deeper sleep, right? So he should turn around and mind his own business, shouldn’t he? But his legs have a mind of their own, and now that he’s already veered off his path, he has no choice but to keep going in spite of his better judgment.
It’s uncharacteristic of Makoto to try and eavesdrop, but the fact that it’s evening and the school is more or less empty and Makoto’s been really bored the past several hours is making him feel like a bit of a deviant.
The more he listens in, the less the conversation sounds like… well, a conversation. From what he’s heard so far, it sounds more like one person talking to themselves. The cans of coffee in his hands are all but forgotten by now.
That cadence is familiar… and, now that he draws even closer, he realizes those words are familiar, too...
Right before turning the corner, he listens in more intently this time…
“…Strands of midnight veil your eyes
They’re settled closed
A sunflower feeling the warm hug of spring,
To gates of heaven backlit by celestial blue
I reach out my hand
Featherlight, hushed and gentle
I want to rearrange the stars
Lead the milky way past its orbit with the flick of my wrist
Quiet chaos, a leap into the unknown
But one that entices me all the same
And yet the words die on my lips
Ash upswept by unrelenting winds finally settling where it belongs
But this view through the lens is not enough
I intend to touch your heart
You look beautiful when you’re dreaming
Sometimes I think I’m dreaming, t—”
But before the words reach their end, a miserable shriek resounds through the near-empty space.
Makoto charges towards the words’ source at breakneck speed.
“R-R-Ritsu-kun?!”
“Oho, if it isn't Yuu-kun~...”
The blonde’s cheeks are cherry red with warm blood, and he can feel his eyes swirling just behind thin blue glasses, and how his uneven, labored, humiliation-ridden breaths make him feel lightheaded and dizzy and scorching hot.
“What— What the hell are y…! W-What are you…?!”
“Woah, jeez… Calm down…” The corner of Ritsu’s mouth curls into an impish grin. “I was just reading something I found on the floor... What’s the big idea?”
“Y-You…!” Makoto bites down on his lower lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood. “Where did…?!”
He’s lost all coherent thought by now, and subsequently coherent speech, feeling tears of shame threatening to spill over his water lines.
“If you’re asking ‘where did I find this letter’, it fell out of your bag earlier when we collided… I was gonna give it back, but you ran away in such a hurry, so I kept it nice and safe~... No need to thank me.”
“That doesn’t explain why the hell you opened and read it out loud, though?!” Makoto doesn’t remember the last time he’s raised his voice like this. “You could have just given it back to me normally! It was sealed for a reason! W-What if someone else heard you…?!”
“Chillaaaax, it’s fiiiine… No one’s ever around this late, anyway… And it’s not like I care what you're putting in a love letter, or what goes on in your love life in general, so I’m not gonna tell anyone…”
“O-Okay, then give it—”
“...on one condition.”
Makoto feels his chest tighten. A condition. Of course there's a condition.
And Ritsu is an unpredictable entity of mischief, and so he prepares himself for the worst.
“Let’s see… ‘Strands of midnight’, ‘celestial blue’... Pfft, this is honestly kinda cute, but in a cringe sort of way... Who even writes poems for people anymore?"
Ritsu inspects the envelope once again, making sure it's just barely out of Makoto's reach as the poor guy tries and fails repeatedly to steal it back.
"Let's see, you scribbled over the name on the front, and you didn’t address anyone directly in the actual letter, but... If my hunch serves me right, I'm pretty sure I know who you were writing about. Your crypticism won’t work on my stellar perception skills, Yuu-kun~.”
And with those words, Makoto’s chest practically ceases all proper function.
He knows.
He knows.
This is probably the most humiliating day of his life.
Out of anyone, why did Ritsu have to pick up that letter? What, almighty Lord, has he done to deserve this? Maybe this is some sort of punishment? Karma?
All he wants to do right now is crumble to his knees in a fit of unequaled despair, or start packing up the necessities to move away and change his name and start a new life on a desolate farm, or grab a shovel and start digging the hole that he'll crawl into and eventually die—
“I won’t tell a soul..." he smirks, "...that you're crushing on your unitmate Hokuto Hidaka.”
“...Eh?”
Makoto blinks.
"My—”
“Shh, let me explain.” Ritsu hushes Makoto by placing a finger to his lips, and his devilish red eyes begin to gleam, something sly brewing up behind them. “Your secret’s safe with me, but I need something in return…”
This is it, he thinks. My game plan.
“I need a big favor from you.”
━━━━━━
It’s definitely too early for this.
The sun is blazing overhead, and Ritsu prays for each occasional cloud that’ll obscure its violent rays of hot light, anticipating every big tree along the path that blesses him with even a short moment of sweet, sweet shade, and he wishes that using Mao’s flannel as a makeshift parasol would actually help at all.
“Maa-kun… Are we… almost there…? I can’t take it much longer…”
“Oh, shut up. You’re not even walking.”
Mao lets out a small grunt as he adjusts Ritsu’s position on his back, trying (and sort of failing) to focus on his own breathing. He should be used to carrying him piggyback style by now, what with how often he’s been forced to do it throughout the years, but alas.
Ritsu simply scoffs, digging his sharp chin into the crook of Mao’s neck. “How is it this hot already…? It’s still morning…”
“It’s not really that hot,” Mao says strainedly, “it actually feels nice out today. Maybe you’d think the same if you chose an outfit that wasn’t all black.”
“Stupid Maa-kun, this outfit is cute! You don’t know anything about fashion!”
“How is that my damn fault?! Stop complaining!”
The two nearly stumble down the series of stairs Ritsu had insisted he be carried down, but once they finally make it to the bottom of the steps and onto the station’s platform, an absent-minded Arashi Narukami eases into view, a hand on her chin as she studies the railway map on the wall in front of her.
Mao shrugs Ritsu off of his shoulders with an unintended fervor and shuffles quickly towards her.
“You came early! What gives?”
Arashi’s eyes light up at the sight of him, and she’s all but forgotten about the map as she turns towards his direction. “Mao-chan!”
They link hands and share a quick, chaste kiss, and Ritsu responds to that uncomfortable sight by crossing his arms, feeling a sense of repugnance boiling up at it… But, it’s no matter, since his own date will be here soon to fill any voids that need filling. Of course, Mao seems to have the same thought on his mind, though.
“Oh yeah, Ritsu,” he begins, circling his thumb around the back of Arashi’s hand, “You told your date to meet us here at 6:30, right?”
Ritsu thrums for a minute and places a finger to his chin. “I did say to be here at that time, but… I guess it's taking a while…”
“So who’s the lucky soul, Ritsu-chan? You’ll tell me now, right~? Do I know them?”
“Uh,” he blinks, then looks away. “No. Still not telling.”
“Ooh, so I do know them!”
“No, wait—! That’s not what I—”
“Aww, you’re blushing!”
“No I’m not!” Ritsu grits his teeth. “Just shut up…!”
Ritsu isn’t normally the type to be nervous or antsy, but his fingers have started to drum against his thigh absentmindedly, glance fixated on large panels of concrete floor. He takes a moment to look up and survey the surrounding area every now and then.
In all truth, he's unsure if this plan is even going to work. It's not atypical for Ritsu to do things without thinking; and, while this time surely isn't an exception, he still can't seem to quiet his nerves.
Taking another moment to look around and accidentally catching another glimpse of Mao and Arashi—again, eugh—is enough for him to want to turn away, and he does.
But a sight not too far in the distance basically steals the air from his lungs.
His heart rate quickens to a pace that's almost too hasty for his own good.
He inhales once, then rubs the bottom of his nose with his pointer finger inconspicuously, then swallows basically no saliva in an attempt to even out his short breaths. Four seconds in, hold four seconds, four seconds out... except he's hardly counting properly, and his head feels light, but it doesn't really show on his unintentional repose.
Nearly tripping over his words, Ritsu finally speaks up.
“Hey… You’re finally here.”
His voice amplifies much more than usual. It's enough for Mao and Arashi to take notice, subsequently diverting their curious attention.
The sight they're met with is likely the furthest from what they would've expected, however. Their jaws are dropped wide with wide eyes to match.
“Ritsu-kun! U-um, hi!”
What?
Surely it's a coincidence, right? This is just a funny coincidence, and he's not here to—
“Yuu-chan~”
'YUU-CHAN?!' A lovey-dovey nickname?!
So that means—
“Ahh, I’m so happy you made it~... I know you're not used to being up so early in the morning, what with all those games you're always playing…”
Ritsu reaches up to pinch Makoto’s cheek in a half-reprimand half-affectionate coo, who laughs sheepishly in response.
“Eheheh… Don't worry, Ritsu-kun! I made sure to get a full night’s sleep, so I feel nice and energized!”
“Aww, all that for me? Aren't you just the sweetest~?”
Okay. This… this is definitely weird. Like, super, super, super weird; at least, that's what Mao’s unwavering shock seems to communicate.
He wordlessly exchanges a pointed finger between the two. Emphasis on wordlessly, since he's struck completely dumb.
He manages to choke up, “You… You guys? You two? What. What?”
Ritsu assumes an intense scowl as he clings to Makoto’s arm. “Now you know exactly how I felt when you and Nacchan got together! It's weird, isn't it?!”
He glowers harshly at first, but that guise softens after a moment, and he nuzzles gently into Makoto’s bicep.
“But that's not why Yuu-chan and I started dating. It was of our own volition." He looks up and batters his eyelashes in a way that sends chills up and down Mao's spine. "You see, somehow we began messaging each other a lot online, which led to us hanging out during our free time, and eventually… Well, I realized I just couldn't get enough of his cute face~...”
He’s pinching both of Makoto’s cheeks this time.
Mao, of course, has a rather visceral reaction to the sight.
“Ah, uhm…” Makoto begins, “I’m sorry I never told you, Isara-kun. I wasn't sure when would be a good time. But, on the bright side, we all know each other, so the trip won't be as awkward, right? And since Ritsu-kun invited me, now you don't have to feel bad that you weren't able to! I'd say this is a win-win ♪”
The blonde chuckles in unison with his partner, paying basically no mind to the fact that Mao looks like he's just witnessed a plane crash.
Their words are cut off by the sound of loud, heavy train wheels barreling on the tracks and into view. The train comes to a halt and invites the crowded platform’s occupants in through its open doors.
"Are we all ready?"
Ritsu looks around at the three of them and ignores the... tension... that is almost fully a product of Mao's bewildered gaze.
No one responds.
"Uhh..." Ritsu awkwardly shrugs, "...oookay... let's just get on, then..."
Still too speechless to object, Mao squanders aimlessly through the doors on a weak set of knees, and Arashi follows shortly behind.
Makoto starts walking, too, but is stopped by the cold hand grasping at his wrist.
“Yuu-kun.”
Ritsu’s demeanor shifts dramatically in mere moments, gaze sharpening to that of knives.
The sudden switch alarms Makoto, honestly, but he devotes his attention to Ritsu nonetheless. He's admittedly still a little afraid of Ritsu for some reason.
“Don't forget what your role is here. We're going to sell this no matter what, or I'll tell Maa-kun everything. That was our agreement, right?”
With a hesitant nod, Makoto substantiates Ritsu's words. “Y-Yeah, that's right.”
They linger like that for a moment more, probably just soaking in the strange reality of this situation, and maybe wondering what the hell they've just gotten themselves into.
“Hm. Just making sure.”
Ritsu impassively intertwines their fingers. The skinship is foreign, but it seems to be something they'll have to get used to.
They both board the train without another word.