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A sudden wave of cool air rushes to Akito’s face as soon as he steps before the sliding doors of the grocery store. His eyebrows furrow, but nonetheless he strides in.
Mizuki trails behind him, Akito’s hand in their grasp. “What are we getting again?” They ask, voice syrupy as ever - Akito doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.
“Hair dye. You said you were going to help.” Akito smiles. He doubts Mizuki can see it.
Faintly from behind, as Akito turns a corner, he hears the snapping of fingers. “Aha! That was it! Though, to be honest, I like your brown hair.”
Turning his head slightly, Akito smiles back at Mizuki. “I think that’s just you, Mimi.” He laughs softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of their hand. “Maybe you’re just biased.”
Mizuki shrugs in the corner of Akito’s eye. “Maybe.”
Stopping in front of the wall of hair dye, Akito lets go of his grasp of Mizuki’s hand - which earns him a whine followed by a pout - and scouts the arrangement of colors for the one he usually uses. He inspects a few, turning the container back and forth, but in the end pushes them back into their respective spots.
“Hey, babe,” Mizuki starts. Akito moves his vision over towards their general direction, starting down at their squatted body and ignoring the way his heart kicks up a notch from one pet name. “you need bleach? These ones are good.” She picks up a bottle, waving it in the air as if to show it off.
Akito shakes his head, scratching his nape as he squats down himself to look at the bottom row of dyes. They’re all just blonde. “No, I have enough to last me awhile, my hair isn’t super thick- and would you stop calling me that in public?”
Mizuki slides the bleach bottle back onto the shelf, standing up straight and sticking their tongue out in reply. Akito sighs, giving them one final glare before attempting to find the right dye. Maybe he should try something new?
Footsteps echo through the aisle, Mizuki’s signature heels clacking against the tile floor. Akito is in the mist of checking out another box of dye when Mizuki blurts out: “You know how Touya and Nene are doing?”
“Them two?” Akito turns his head towards Mizuki - who is a lot farther than he anticipated - before chucking, mostly to himself, “They’re good; going strong, too. I admire that.” He turns back around and purses his lips when he ultimately decides to push the box back in the shelf. “Touya seems a lot more happy.”
“You still jealous?” Mizuki questions, their voice lined with a teasing nature. Akito shoots them a glare and - why is she even farther away? - Mizuki raises their hands in mock-defeat, sticking out her tongue again. “Sorry, sorry. Bad joke.”
Akito waves it off with one hand and pushes himself back up with the other propped on his knee. He lets out a defeated groan, scanning the shelf again. “None of these are the ones I like,” He mutters more to himself then anyone else, bottom lip jutting out in thought. “I could use that one, but it isn’t the color I want…”
Mizuki walks back over to Akito, leaning forward and peering up and down the shelf. They grab a box after five seconds and present it to Akito. “What about this?” She asks, turning the box around and side to side to figure everything about its contents.
Letting out a hum, Akito inspects the box. It’s definitely not his signature bright orange hue, but it might work. It’s more of an auburn, warm and red-toned rather than leaning right in the middle of red and yellow; it’s also duller than Akito would like.
“Sure,” He purses his lips. “let’s just get out of here, I don’t wanna waste all day.”
Mizuki gives a little fist pump in celebration followed by a faint “woo!”. Akito chuckles back at her. Shortly after, he glances about the aisle and only after confirming that no one is present (why would it matter so much anyways if there were people?), snakes an arm around Mizuki’s waist and chastely presses a kiss to their forehead.
The latter tenses for a short moment, scrunching her eyebrows together as their eyes pierce into Akito’s skin. Akito takes this as a sign to back off, rescinding his arm and about to mumble an out-of-place apology when-
-when Mizuki grabs a handful of fabric from Akito’s hoodie, pulls him close enough so that they can feel each other’s breath on their skin, shoots him a lopsided grin and teases “You really need to get better at PDA; it’s pathetic, really.” before sealing their lips together.
Just as sparks fly out when Mizuki tugs on Akito’s bottom lip, he distantly wonders how he even started dating Mizuki in the first place - let alone grow to love her.
Obviously, they didn’t start dating immediately after their kiss. Akito had wanted to take things slow, to ease into everything. Not because he didn’t want to date Mizuki - hell, if Akito thinks about the last year he’s been dating them, he would call himself smitten; it was bad - but because it was his first real relationship.
And, okay, before someone says anything: just because he “dated” a few people off and on doesn’t mean anything! He’s been on a couple dates with An before, but honestly, all those turned to shit. (And he’s not saying An isn’t attractive, he’s just saying they don’t mix particularly well.) There’s been a couple others, but they never gave Akito the sensation that he even liked them; no butterflies scattered his stomach; no rush of heat flowing into his cheeks when they do something as little as smile; no feeling of his heart doubling in speed when he hears their laugh.
That goes to say, when Mizuki had spun their head around with her lips mere inches away from Akito’s, he felt odd.
Yes, he did like Touya at the time, had all the same sensations and feelings that he had originally thought were all signs of a crush, but it felt nothing like with her.
In his defense, Akito had thought he’d known what being in love was: staring at someone longingly, imagining a future together (no, he does not want to talk about that.), feeling tingly around them. And, while all those were things he experienced while crushing on Touya, there was one factor that stood out to him like no other:
The fact that, in his head, he’d subconsciously said he loved Mizuki. Over and over and over.
And, yeah, maybe that’s a stupid reason, but would you subconsciously say you love someone without realizing it? Would you dream about them being next to you, not even kissing or anything, but just holding hands and being close? Would you think about them at every given moment, even when you’re trying to focus on something else?
Mizuki pulls back first, ripping Akito back into reality. He involuntarily lets out a small whine, and Mizuki, in response, chuckles and shakes up Akito’s already messy hair. “C’mon baby, we gotta go - I know for a fact you can’t stay up past 11 if we stay here any longer.”
“I’ve stayed up late before,” Akito mumbles as he begins to walk off towards the register.
Mizuki trails beside him, reaching to his hand and entangling their fingers. “Yeah, but you looked like you were going to pass out in five seconds.”
“That’s besides the point.”
Grinning, Mizuki wraps an arm around Akito’s waist and tugs him closer to their body. “O~kay, cupcake, whatever you say.”
Akito shoots her a glare, jutting his bottom lip out. Mizuki smiles widely in return, lifting up Akito’s hand and pressing a kiss onto it. A flush rises to Akito’s face, and in a fit of embarrassment, drags Mizuki along hastily to get out of the store.
— — —
Akito watches Mizuki’s nose scruch up through the window of his bathroom. She grabs a section of Akito’s hair and paints a thin layer of bleach onto it, murmuring, “Eugh, I’ll never get over the smell of bleach.”
“Yet you still offered to dye my hair,” Akito leans back, smiling at them. Instead of shooting a smile back, Mizuki hastily places the bowl of bleach on the counter and tilts Akito’s back forward, only with her palms though to avoid getting any bleach onto his skin. Akito lets out a grumble.
“Hey, eyes forward! It’s hard as hell trying to bleach your hair if you keep moving all over the place,”
“Not my fault you’re so easily distracted.”
Mizuki places a cold, chunky slab of bleach onto Akito’s scalp. He shivers, chills shooting down his spins. “You,” Mizuki grumbles, slathering the cold substance over Akito’s hair, “have no say in the matter. I can give you a peck on the cheek and you malfunction for five minutes.”
A hand lifts Akito’s bangs up from his face to paint the brown strands. “Touché.” He scoffs playfully, fingers thrumbing in his lap.
Akito likes watching Mizuki work through the mirror. He’s sitting on a chair that they may or may not have stolen from Ena (with brief, unspecified, permission of course!) in order to both give Mizuki easier access to dyeing Akito’s hurricane of a scalp and not bend over like an old woman while also giving Akito the chance to watch their soft hands glide through his hair.
Mizuki had claimed she’s dyed hair before after Akito had told them that he needed to redye his own hair. Obviously, Akito wasn’t fully convinced, but after constantly pestering them about it…
(“You dye your hair?” Akito had asked one night, his hands entangled in Mizuki’s loose and flowy hair as he peered up into their pink eyes.
Mizuki shakes their head in response, “Nope! This is all natural, ba-by!” They smile, a hands snaking down to Akito’s head and rubbing it softly.
Akito chuckles, “Really? How’d you know how to dye hair then?”
“I just do! Believe me, cinnamon.”)
… Akito has formally decided to just believe whatever they claim they can do, because half the time they’re serious about it. Half the time.
Mizuki’s gloved hands glide through Akito’s hair, evening out the bleach job. The brush they were using earlier lays helplessly on the counter, begging to be picked up even if it can’t necessarily speak. Akito’s eyes glance up to Mizuki’s face, focused and intensely looking for spots they either missed or applied unevenly (or so Akito thinks).
The silence isn’t bad per say, but it feels weird. They’re (probably) known as the chatty, loud couple at school, the ones constantly scolded for being too obnoxious by everyone around them (and with everyone comes those people who believe they know every single little detail about Mizuki’s life and decide they know what’s best for Akito.) - so when it comes to times like these, times when they’re alone, it’s odd. Good odd, but odd nonetheless.
Mizuki starts faintly humming a song Akito vaguely remembers - it’s a special song to them, is all he really knows - and, being the stereotypical lover he is, he leans into their touch, lets his eyes close and lets her voice glide into his ears, lets himself drift away into semi-consciousness.
Akito has, from first knowing them to the present, always loved her voice. The range they have, reaching soft and divine lows to strong and zealous highs, astounds Akito. Maybe now more than ever for… obvious reasons, but the first time Akito had heard Mizuki sing - which was completely on accident, mind you - he knew he was in deep.
But anyways, enough about how Akito would die if Mizuki were to sing him a song to sleep or some of that cheesy bullshit, Akito had always found them interesting in a way. One, they waltz up to Akito and somehow know who he is from the get-go; two, they accept Akito’s stupid-ass proposal of a fake dating scheme (to which Akito still doesn’t know why they really accepted in the first place, because honestly it was all stupid.); three, which is irrelevant to the second by the way, they always look like they’re hiding something, as if what they say isn’t what they truly mean (because, really, would they wear something they weren’t into and get bold, hateful comments because of it?); four, they’re beautiful; five and so on.
So, in conclusion, I love you. I love you so, so much, Akito fondly smiles.
Mizuki pauses their transactions, mid swipe, causing the cold, bleach-tainted brush to stay still against Akito’s scalp. A shiver runs down his spine. “You okay, Mimi?” He asks, leaning forward and turning his head back.
When Akito turns, he spies a flush that dares to creep its way up onto Mizuki’s cheeks. “You just- ah, what the hell… nevermind, it’s nothing.” She waves her free hand unceremoniously for a brief second only to pull Akito back the next. “Now stay still, will you? And I thought I was the jittery one,” They grin down at the other, whose face has morphed into a deadpan stare. Her grin only grows wider.
Mizuki gives one small paint before proudly (and gently as to not spill bleach everywhere) placing the brush into it’s bowl, digging out a plastic bag Akito had prepared for his dye-day, and tieing it around Akito’s freshly bleached head. They place their hands on their hips and beam, “There, done! Now we just wait… uh, an hour?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Yeah! Thirty minutes!” Mizuki clicks her tongue and shoots Akito finger guns through the mirror. Akito playfully rolls eyes in response. “Now what? I don’t think you’d enjoy doing much, so…”
Akito leans back (despite Mizuki’s soft protest of a “hey!”) and smiles back at his partner. “What if we just talk? There’s no harm in that.”
Leaning forward, Mizuki rests her arms around Akito’s neck and places their chin a hair away from Akito’s head. Their breath tickles his skin. “Yeah? We’re gonna have to switch places, though, ‘cause my legs are tired as hell.”
“All good with me.” Akito chuckles.
“Great!” Mizuki beams, pulling away. “Now, get off - I’ve gotta stand for a couple more hours later.”
“Yeah, yeah I know, Mimi.” Akito shoots her a lopsided grin as he gets up. In just a few seconds, Mizuki places themself in his stead, extending their limbs out and stretching. They release a content sigh after a few more seconds, then finally lets their body relax.
“Sooo…” Mizuki starts, leaning against the back of the chair, crossing their legs and looking behind them. “What’cha wanna talk ‘bout? I doubt there’s really anything interesting going on right now,”
Akito shrugs, positioning himself behind Mizuki and against the wall while also trying not to fuck up the bag around his head while he’s at it. “What’s Ena been like? She’s been happier lately.”
Whipping her head around with so much force that it gives Akito whiplash, they stare at him, wide-eyed and jaw dropped. “Seriously?! You don’t know? Ooh boy, do I have some shit to tell you!”
And so, that’s how Akito gets to know all the personal details about Ena’s - his own sister’s - love life. Which, granted, he opened the gate to it all - that gate being Mizuki. He loves them, but they can get passionate about these type of things pretty quickly. - but it never crossed Akito’s mind that he would get to know the… nitty-gritry.
It’s not to say he isn’t happy that Ena finally got with a girl - guy? - she’s been pining for for, what, months? A borderline year? But he does shoot Mizuki a grossed-out look when she describes how they act towards each other.
(Mizuki has turned around in the chair, legs hanging off the side of the back as their arms rest against the top. Akito is still positioned against the wall, except his weight switches from one leg to another periodically as to not make it numb.
“And, yeah! Mafuyu is pretty self-preserved, but he’s all over Ena. Oh, oh! Once, I accidentally walked in on them makin’ ou-“
“Okay, okay!” Akito shoves a hand over Mizuki’s mouth. “Thank you, I think that’s enough of that,”
Mizuki pouts against Akito’s skin. They remove his hand, staring up at him. “What’s the difference between us making out and them?” She cocks her head to the side, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I mean, personally, I think we’re worse off than them because we’re both clingy as hell- wait no, they’re also clingy-“
“Because you’re talking about my fucking sister, Mizuki!”)
But that’s behind them now, because Mizuki is back up (regrettably so) behind Akito and cautiously painting his bleach-blonde hair with a not-vibrant-yet-not-dull orange. The tone and color is slightly off than the usual color he goes for, and he can admit that it bothers him slightly, but he can get used to it. Maybe.
“My arms are killing me…” Mizuki wails, her lips pouting our slightly - and, no, Akito definitely does not think about kissing them right there and then. “‘Kito, how do you do this every four months?”
“I mean, I waited longer this time around,“
“Not the point!” Mizuki’s pout grows as she lightly shoves Akito’s shoulder. He chuckles fondly in response.
“I dunno,” The brunette-turned-ginger shrugs, just slightly enough so that it doesn’t mess up whatever Mizuki was doing. “I just got used to it. Never really liked the brown hair anyways, it reminds me of my dad.”
Mizuki stops mid strand. Akito looks up at them through the mirror; their face is scrunched up in thought, brows furrowed. Having some sense, Akito backs up, “Ah, it’s not a touchy subject before you ask. Sorry, shouldn’t ‘ve brought that up.”
Shaking their head, Mizuki begins to paint the bleached strands of hair again, albeit more gently this time around. “No, no you’re good! I was just… thinking.” The brush slows down again, as if Mizuki wants to say something more, but they firmly shake their head again and pick up the pace. “It’s nothing.”
“I didn’t even say anything, Mimi,” Akito smiles softly. “Plus, you? Getting stuck in your head? It’s gotta be something important.”
Mizuki gasps playfully, shoving Akito’s shoulder softly. “Hey! The hell’s that supposed to mean!” She pouts, gathering a plethora of hair dye and slapping it onto Akito’s hair.
“Bug— ah, shit! That’s cold,”
“Serves you right! Try shit talking my thought process again when I have the better grades!” She sticks her tongue out, continuing to color Akito’s hair - who’s still shivering - slowly. A couple times, she opens her mouth, as if wanting to share, but closes it in the end.
Akito doesn’t push them. They give Akito his space, and Akito gives Mizuki hers. If she wants to talk about it, they can - when they’re ready.
Akito drifts away from reality as Mizuki begins to softly hum their special song again.
— — —
“You’re not gonna ask me to shower with you?”
Akito shoots Mizuki a glare as he turns on the water, hand sticking out to check the temperature. “No.”
Mizuki pouts and gives him puppy-dog eyes. Damn those puppy-dog eyes. “C’mo~on… just once!”
“Maybe one day,” Akito mumbles, mostly to himself. He ignores Mizuki’s tiny squeal behind him. “Not now, though; now shoo, the water’s getting warm.”
“Better than an outright ‘no’!” Mizuki sings, the noise of the door opening barely audible over the gushing sound of water. “Thanks babe, love ya!”
Akito whips around. “Wha-“ The door clicks behind Mizuki as she leaves. With a sigh, Akito shakes his head and slowly starts to shed his clothes, grumbling under his breath about how Mizuki always gets her way.
— — —
Despite rinsing off in scalding hot water - which, a word of advice, don’t take a hot shower after you’ve dyed your hair. The dye doesn’t last long. - Akito is incredibly tired.
The shower runs on in the distance, leaving Akito alone in the dim, desk lamp lit room. He turns to his side to grab his phone from the bedside table, clicking it on only for a bright light to shine in his eyes (honestly, what did he expect?). Through squinting, the faint bubbles of numbers appear on his screen, blaring at him: 22:10. Akito groans.
He ponders on just sleeping because Mizuki be damned he cannot stay up late for the life of him, but just as he flops back on his back the bedroom door swings open, offically jolting Akito awake. Akito and Mizuki stare at each other, blinking and unmoving, until Mizuki starts to giggle. She continues to snort even as she closes the door behind them when they fully enter the room.
“…What?” Akito slowly asks. Even he can tell he’s tired. This sucks.
“I totally thought you’d be asleep by now, cupcake. Y’know, the whole staying up late thing.” Mizuki grins, pulling down a towel from their head, revealing a bundle of hair that slaps directly onto their shirt. They wince a little, probably from the cold.
Pouting, Akito grumbles, “I can… stay up late enough,”
“You sound about 5 seconds and a cuddle away from passing out.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,”
Mizuki giggles, walking softly towards Akito - and bed by proxy - and sitting down next to him. Their hand makes its way to his scalp, gently rubbing through his messy hair. Akito must’ve made some sort of noise unconsciously, because Mizuki smiles even wider and presses chaste kisses onto Akito’s cheek. It tickles.
Akito, sleep penetrating his brain before he can fully catch up to his own actions, pulls Mizuki down next to him - a small yelp escaping the latter. He wraps an arm around their torso and snuggles his head into the crook of their neck. “Warm,” He mumbles.
Mizuki chuckles in response, sliding up against the bed frame and placing Akito’s head in her lap. “I just got out of the shower, Kiki, of course I’m warm.” She brushes a loose strand of hair behind Akito’s ear. He can feel his own face slowly heating up. “You, however, have been in bed the whole time - so how are you so cold?”
“Mmhm..” Akito mumbles, words slowly losing meaning as his mind wanders away. Mizuki smiles down at him, bending over to give one more soft kiss onto his cheek. A random thought passes through his mind, so he takes the bait before it’s totally lost: “What… what were you gnna’ say earlier? When y’were thinkin’?”
Mizuki thinks about it more, shown by the way her lip slightly juts out and eyes casting towards the side. She sighs in the end, gaze returning towards Akito and a smile adorning her lips. “Just wondering if you’d like to live with me when we graduate. Now, go to sleep, love - we can talk about it more when you wake up.” She mutters under her breath, gently combing through Akito’s hair again.
“Can you sing that one song you were humming earlier…?”
“What song?- Oh, you heard that?” Mizuki furrows her eyebrows playfully, lightly flicking Akito’s forehead. “Damn you and your good ears… but sure, if it’ll make you sleep faster.”
The kind and gentle melody flows into Akito’s ears, his eyes slowly drooping. “Love you,” He murmurs, curling up closer in Mizuki’s lap.
“I love you too, baby.”
A gentle and kind kiss to his temple is all Akito remembers before his consciousness is fully engulfed in a deep slumber.