Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shouta hadn’t been surprised when he was the last of his year group to feel his soul mate bond. In his mind, it made sense; he had always been the least interested, and he showed enough signs of depression he should have seen someone about it. He had enough factors stacked against a normal, healthy expression of a bond that even when he didn’t feel it in the following year, or the year after, he found himself unbothered.

It wasn’t until he was three years late to his bond that the people around him grew concerned. He waved them off, told them he wasn’t upset. If anything, this worked for him. He was too tired and too comfortable with his routine to uproot himself for somebody else. He was content, he had things figured out, and he wasn’t willing to throw that all away because of something as fanciful as a soulmate.

Logically speaking, nobody needed their soulmate, right? There were cases of people’s soulmates dying before they ever met, losing their bond, and continuing on with their lives. It was a miserable ordeal he was sure, and his heart did go out to them and their situation, but nobody had crumbled to ashes or been snuffed out of existence because they couldn’t put a ring on their ‘special one’.

He, and whoever his other half (or halves) ended up being, would fare fine .

Or so he thought, up until a particularly harrowing conversation with his parents. They told him about the one case of someone never receiving their bond, the only recorded case of it, and how that person did wither away slowly, over years. 

He was resistant, until his parents showed him the newest study released on the case. Every symptom, every beat of this poor man’s life up until he began to wither, mirrored Shouta’s. Depressed and unwilling to seek help, content in his apartment above a coffee shop, adamantly resistant to needing his bond, and most importantly…his eyes.

Shouta’s eyes had grayed over the years, something that hadn’t been a concern prior, even from his sparse few doctor visits. It had started as a ring around the edges, and crept in further and further. The new study found that this had been the first major change in the Loveless case, that signified the downward spiral in his health and wellbeing.

That had scared Shouta enough that he called his doctor, and asked what could be done.

Antidepressants and anti-anxieties were the first port of call. Over months, he rotated between a few of them, none of them really did much for his mood but they sure did make him more tired and irritable. He settled on one that didn’t make him feel like ass all day, took it diligently even if he didn’t feel like it helped at all, but it soothed the doctor and his parents. He cut grapefruit out of his diet, which only really affected a few of the jelly pouches he bought. He saw a nutritionist, who got him into gear eating more solid meals rather than just nutrient jelly.

Given he’d had none of the surgeries associated with delayed bond formation, the next test was genetic disorders. There were a few that could cause delayed bonds, many that lay dormant for a few generations before they decided to rear their heads and cause havoc. The waiting time for those was agonizing, months for some of them. All of them came back negative, and even the re-tests he took to be sure all pointed to him having no known disorders.

The known disorders was the part that worried him. He started to grow paranoid that there was something brand new wrong with him, that he’d wither away pathetically and his body and his life be dissected to try and figure out what went wrong. He expressed this fear with his doctor, but had been ultimately waved off. With ‘no cause for concern’ on him being a unique kind of fucked up, he was told to deal with his fear somehow.

With genetics ‘ruled out’, the only other thing that it could possibly be was a mental block. Now, Shouta hated the idea of therapy, especially group therapy , but the highest success rates were with groups between eight and twelve patients strong. He signed up reluctantly, waiting for his start date with mounting anxiety and stress.

Meeting new people was fine in concept. He was a teacher, he met parents and new students all the time. Meeting new people that would ask invasive questions was a whole other beast however. Shouta was a private person, so having to open up to a group of strangers sounded like his own personal hell. 

The day came, and Shouta was quick to choose the seat in the circle furthest away from everyone else. He felt studied as he sat down, the two group leads scribbling something down on their clipboards. He had been there all of a minute, and already he wanted the floor to swallow him up, fantastic .

A few others filtered in, filling up the seats around him, two either side of him still empty. He counted eleven, including himself, so if the group had a twelfth member…

“Sorry I’m late!” A bright voice, a loud voice , cut through the awkward silence of the room. It made Shouta flinch, before he looked towards the door. The man there was tall, taller than Shouta (what a novelty), long blonde hair falling out of a messy bun while green eyes darted around the room, making sure he was actually in the right place. “The traffic was craaaazy on the way here!” He pushed up white rimmed glasses while trying to shove his phone back in his pocket, interestingly the lenses were tinted orange. Did he have a vision disorder?

…Of course the loudest guy would have to take a seat to the right of Shouta. He was quick to stride over, practically fucking skipped over, and once he was seated Shouta was close enough to see that his upper lip was adorned with the goofiest moustache he’d ever seen. Small separated pieces on either side of his lip,  pointed on both sides into rough triangles. What kind of look was that meant to be?

Shouta turned his eyes away before the newcomer noticed, focusing on the group leaders setting up a projector.

“Oh that’s an old model!” Blonde Blunder beside him spoke in a manner that was obvious he was struggling to stay quiet, his voice trying to pitch up in excitement.

“The projector?” Shouta furrowed a brow, paying closer attention to it.

“Yeah! I don’t think those have been in circulation since 2080!” 

“Tight budget, then..” Shouta pursed his lips, startled when his new.. ‘friend’ laughed at what was supposed to be an objective statement.

He didn’t have much time to be annoyed, the projector whirring to life and the leaders getting right to it. 

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the late start, our equipment loves to give us trouble…I’m Tatsuya, and this is my colleague Aya. We’ll start with round-robin introductions and then we can get to the more exciting stuff! We’ll start to my left.”

Everyone introduced themselves, some shy, some seeming as bored as Shouta was, though none of them were reserved or refused. As the hot seat grew ever closer, Shouta was starting to get cold feet about this whole thing. Was he really at risk of wilting, or was he just defunct and his soulmate was out there, just fumbling? Was this actually going to be worth it?

Loud and blonde next to him was up before he knew it, standing up and flattening out the leather jacket that didn’t quite reach his belt line when he was drawn up to his full height.

“Call me Hizashi. I grew kinda hopeless with my bond a few months ago, and we found out my family’s genetics can get that stuff all twisted and confused, so I’m givin’ this a shot to narrow down the potentials.”

He sat back down quickly, glancing to his left to look at Shouta.

Everyone was looking at him.

Shouta stood up, hands in his pockets and gaze averted. He opened his mouth to introduce himself as Aizawa , but with the trend of everyone else seemingly offering their given names, he hesitated.

“...Shouta. I’m thankful to be here.”

His introduction had been the most curt of them all by the time the round robin was done, and he worried that he had set himself up for failure immediately. Tatsuya and Aya got to work shuffling around some papers on their desk, while Hizashi leaned in toward him.

“Your name suits you.” Hizashi grinned, winking behind his orange tinted glasses.

“..As does yours.” Shouta replied, with nowhere near the same amount of enthusiasm or flirting . 

Hizashi withdrew, slumping down in his seat like an aggravated child , long legs jutting over the seat comically. Shouta paid him no mind, politely taking the papers offered to him and giving them a skim over. An easy first day by the looks of things, an introduction and a what to expect section. 

Hizashi tapped his foot as he read, the noise starting to get under Shouta’s skin quickly. He was polite and didn’t say anything about it of course, but he very much wanted to ask him to cut it out. Tatsuya reading the entire thing out for anyone struggling, as a ‘read along’ segment didn’t help, the constant voice reciting slower than he could re-read, mixed with the constant tapping was starting to get to him. 

Just as he thought he was at his limit, Tatsuya finished up reading, insisted everyone keep their papers, and Hizashi’s foot tapping stopped . 

The wind down was calmer, as soon as they were dismissed Shouta had a hard time not just dashing for the door. The sound of chairs grinding against carpet made his skin itch, so he hung back to let everyone filter out of the room, trailing behind the second last person out. He kept his head down, not wanting to give anyone the impression he was open to conversation.

“Shouta!”

Oh for f- Shouta inhaled sharply, doing his very fucking best to remain polite as he turned to face Hizashi.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to apologize for earlier.” Hizashi tugged a pair of folded over ear headphones out of one of his jacket pockets - how deep were those things?? - unfolding them to hang them round his neck. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” Shouta stepped around him, and then right past him. “Not the first time I’ve heard that joke and it won’t be the last either.”

“It wasn-” 

Shouta didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, having pushed through the heavy double doors out into the car park before Hizashi finished speaking. 

—-

With sessions a week apart, Shouta had time to process how he felt about it. Time to think . A few days after the first session, he’d been feeling weird . Much more emotional. He was far from a stoic man without a lick of feeling to him, but ever since he’d woken up his emotional control had been slipping. He grew frustrated with his somewhat broken coffee machine when he normally wouldn’t, and his usual scroll through Instagram’s never-ending wall of cat photos left him choked up when he saw a basket full of kittens that had supposedly been left on somebody’s doorstep.

He dropped his phone onto the couch, trying to fight back tears while taking a deep gulp of slightly too hot coffee. He assumed he was just feeling tender after having to deal with the first session of group therapy, and after months of doctor visits. It had all worn on him mentally, he supposed he was due a breakdown at some point soon. He eyed up his phone, weighing up whether or not it was worth calling into work about it.

After a moment’s debate, he decided it would be for the best. This was unusual for him, he had no idea what it actually meant in the long run, and his students deserved him at his best. He grimaced while punching in the secretary’s number, his damn near flawless record about to suffer because he was emotional about cats .

Since he was so emotional about cats, he supposed it would make sense to see some, yes?

The secretary was understanding, reassuring him even that this would be his only noted absence since he started working there. There would be zero issues with it. That didn’t stop him feeling guilty, nor did it stop the flash of paranoia that gripped him for a few minutes. Being able to immediately call his favorite place in Musutafu and get his favorite spot soothed his suffering, though.

It was a short enough trip, a twenty minute walk at a brisk pace. He absolutely did not spend the entire trip with his face buried into a scarf, warding off tears while thinking about the cat's little beans and their whiskers . What on earth had gotten into him?

He pushed his way into the first door of the cat cafe, kicking his shoes off and slipping into the provided slippers. He didn’t even need to show his membership card anymore, they knew who he was. He took advantage of his three visits a week, every week , he just usually didn’t come during school hours.

He was thankful that it was quiet, only he and one other guest who had taken up reading and petting a particularly sleepy old moggy. Tutu, they called her. She had come with a long name from the shelter, but had always responded to Tutu best, even with her failing hearing.

Shouta took up his usual spot, a little nook in the corner set on the ground, padded walls and a lot of pillows and blankets to make a comfortable spot with. He arranged them how he liked them, sitting cross legged and patting his lap. Within a minute, a huge orange tom emerged from a comically small cat bed, lumbering towards him while flicking his tail excitedly. “There you are Gudetama.” Shouta greeted the cat, reaching a loosely curled fist out for Gudetama to bump against. “I almost worried you wouldn’t come say hi.”

Gudetama was, by far, Shouta’s favorite. He curled up on Shouta’s lap, dropping into it with a hefty sound. Immediately he began to purr, looking up at Shouta with lovingly blinky eyes to beg for attention. Which Shouta gave him immediately, scritching behind his ears and under his chin. Gudetama soaked up the attention, relaxing even further into Shouta’s lap, and before he knew it… Shouta was hunched forward, face buried in his orange fur.

And he was sobbing . Soft, little hiccupy sobs, still petting Gudetama with both hands while he cried. Gudetama was more than happy to be wept into, so long as he was still getting attention. Shouta wasn’t sure how long he was there for, before a member of staff approached.

“Ah, Sir? Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Shouta’s voice was muffled, while his shoulders shook gently with each little sob. He could hear the staff member hover for a moment before walking away, leaving him to cry into Gudetama for however much longer he was there for. When he did finally emerge, his nose was full of fur and his eyes itched. The wet patch on his fur didn’t stop Gudetema chirping at Shouta to continue paying attention to him…

Shouta teared up again.

He was at the cafe for an hour on and off crying into Gudetama’s fur, the tom even having followed him right to the door, chattering away demanding he come back and give him more love, dammit! Shouta had to leave though, he feared if he stayed much longer he might become an emotional wreck. That was an at home activity, not a public one.

The walk back was fraught, like he was at constant risk of boiling over into a useless well of emotions. What had gotten into him? Group therapy couldn’t have affected him this much, surely. It was the only thing that had changed though, maybe he was taking things a little harder than he was aware of and it was now kicking his ass?

He needed it to stop , he refused to take another day off work. 

It was a struggle , but he made it through to the next group therapy session without having a complete breakdown in public. He did take a few extra trips to cry into Gudetama, he was such a good emotional aid, but other than that? He’d survived .

This week’s session was already starting bold, instead of just sitting in a circle and sharing how they felt, the funding had secured them… a pottery class. Wasn’t that a little fast? He assumed they’d have gone through a few more icebreaker sessions before they were given socially intense activities. He didn’t complain outwardly, he arrived at the specified building at the specified time, waiting outside patiently with everyone else. 

He thought about jumping into a conversation, a few had started up while they all waited, but every time he thought he had an opening he locked up. He still had his doubts about this whole thing, and the idea of making friends with all these people and then them all forgetting about him if they managed to find their soulmates… he would rather not deal with that. 

“Shouta!”

Ah…of course. Shouta should have expected than a cold shoulder wouldn’t be enough to deter such an extrovert. He lifted a hand to wave to Hizashi, trying to at least be polite, though apparently that summoned him even closer.

“Hizashi.” Shouta greeted in turn, his voice neutral. He did for a split second question why he was still doing this song and dance if he’d already had a terrible time with the first session, and if Hizashi was going to be an annoying presence. Why did he gravitate towards Shouta so much already anyway? 

He was spared whatever awkward conversation that may have turned into, the doors to the workshop being thrown open with enough force it scared the shit out of everyone stood around.

“Sorry for the delay!” Tatsuya bowed shortly, before gesturing for everyone to step inside. “There was some confusion about if there had actually been a clay delivery today or not! And haha, you can imagine how unfortunate a pottery class would be, without clay…”

Shouta didn’t join in the short awkward laughter, stepping past everyone else to just get into the building and get to pick a spot he would feel a little less insecure in. It was a larger studio than he expected, well ventilated, and quite open. He made his way to one of the furthest back corners, next to a window with the blinds half open.

Everyone else filtered in, and predictably Hizashi made a beeline for him. Shouta wasn’t sure why Hizashi was so fixated on him, but at least this time it didn’t irk Shouta quite as much. Hizashi leaned onto the table, elbows and all, arms framing the pottery wheel in front of him. 

“Have you done pottery before?” Hizashi asked, his hair already tied up in advance. Smart… Shouta patted himself down, searching for his pocket he was sure he had a hair tie in.

“No.” He responded curtly, fishing the hair tie out of his pocket and bunching his hair up into it. “It’s not something I’d considered before.”

“Me either!” A grin split Hizashi’s face, a hint of nervousness in it. He leaned in a touch closer. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be terrible at it, and I don’t really get how this is meant to help us figure out what’s getting in the way of our bond, but…. I guess they’re the experts.”

“I don’t understand it either.” Shouta shrugged, idly spinning his wheel while the rest of the group filtered in and found where they wanted to be. “I assume they know what they’re doing.”

“You don’t wanna be here, do you?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Shouta pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Hizashi. “Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” Hizashi laughed softly, lifting a hand to wave it dismissively. “You just…I dunno, seem very reserved? Everyone else is at least kinda social even if they’re bad at it.”

“Do you fancy yourself good at it?”

“...I did. right up until you said that!” 

Shouta couldn’t help himself. He laughed, more he exhaled through his nose heavily in amusement, but that was enough for Hizashi to perk up. Not that he was particularly depressed or subdued before, but the reaction was noticeable . 

Shouta was spared more awkward conversation by a frazzled looking woman entering the room, short enough that she had to step up onto a stepladder to stand behind her table up at the front of the room. 

She was loud , quick to introduce herself, and quick to inform everyone they’d need to come up front to collect their clay and water. It was a simple enough process, Shouta hung back until everyone else was done to avoid a traffic jam, Hizashi having bumbled along with the first wave of people like an idiot.

The instructor barely waited for Shouta to reach his table again, slapping her clay loudly onto the wheel and barking out instructions. Do this, do that, stick your thumbs in here but not too far ! Shouta wasn’t having a hard time keeping up, but this certainly… wasn’t for him. She did ease up after a while, leaving everyone to shape and experiment their clay as they pleased, but the initial ten minutes or so had been a little too chaotic for his liking.

He peeked to his left, watching Hizashi work. He was deep in concentration, brows furrowed while he did his best to keep the sides of his pot even. His tongue was poked out noticeably, thumbs working carefully over the rim of the pot with surprising grace, not depressing it in too far or causing any part of it to collapse. That was… sort of endearing, Shouta supposed.

Shouta’s own was pretty much still a shallow, thick… dish, not really a pot . He stilled his pottery wheel, crushing the sad excuse of a bowl back into a lump of clay to try again. He did better the second time, managing to climb the sides much higher. He didn’t love the texture, and his hands being constantly wet for the process was fucking unpleasant , but he told his family he would actually try with this help group. He supposed that also extended to making this clay monstrosity.

He was growing impatient with it, only just having rescued the side of the damn thing from collapsing in on itself, when he felt something wet hit his face. He grumbled, at first assuming it was the wet clay he was spinning at mach-fuck speed throwing water at him. When it happened again, this time very obviously from his left he glanced at Hizashi.

Who had his fingers curled, ready to flick water at Shouta. He grinned lopsidedly when caught, his other hand still diligently shaping his pot.

“...What are you doing?” Shouta frowned when Hizashi didn’t lower his hand, in fact it looked like he tensed his fingers tighter, as if preparing to launch another glob of wet clay. Was Hizashi a child? Who raised him-

A small piece of clay slapped onto Shouta’s cheek before he could open his mouth to chastise Hizashi for his immaturity. Shouta was disgruntled, he had been trying to take this seriously like he’d promised… and yet he wiped his fingers on the clay on his wheel, and retaliated in full force, clay splattering up Hizashi’s face and a little on his shirt.

Immediately Shouta thought he’d gone a little too far, opening his mouth to apologize, tasting the bitter earthy tang of clay in the exact same second.

Ah, so this was WAR .

Hizashi giggled, high pitched and childish when Shouta flung more clay water at him, aiming for his big stupid grin, and after just a few more seconds of their immature squabbling they drew the attention of the rest of the group - and the instructor. They were quickly removed from the room, hands still wet and dripping with clay, Aya escorting them out with hurried apologies to the instructor and the rest of the group.

“While I appreciate that you were having fun, you need to behave yourselves when we take you to activities.” Aya’s tone wasn’t quite scolding, if anything it almost seemed like she was trying not to laugh, the tell tale signs of fighting off a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “We won’t hold this against you! Just don’t do it again, ok? We’ll email you anything important you missed.”

“Wait, we're getting kicked out, for real?” Hizashi looked genuinely upset about that, and Shouta’s brand new penchant for crying at everything was making the prospect of being removed from the class difficult.

“Ah…yes.” Aye started to fret at seeing them both so dejected. “Chidori runs a tight ship and we don’t want to potentially be barred from running classes in the future… we’re being far too cautious! Really! It’s just we’d rather be safe than sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Shouta nudged Hizashi with an elbow. “We’ll wash our hands and head out.” 

Aye bowed gratefully, before turning to head back into the pottery room. Shouta made his way to the bathrooms as signposted, Hizashi trailing along behind him.

“...Sorry for getting us kicked out.” Hizashi’s voice sounded miserable , and even though Shouta had only known him for a short time it was a startling tone to hear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I’m just as responsible.” Shouta pushed the bathroom door open with his shoulder, holding it open with his foot for Hizashi once he’d entered. Seeing how dreary Hizashi looked made Shouta’s heart squeeze and his chest feel… bad. “We can go somewhere else? I know a nice cat cafe.”

Shouta’s funny heart feeling turned to ice when it registered what he’d said. He’d offered impulsively , he’d thought it without meaning to say it . The way Hizashi lit up at the offer though…

“I’d be game!” Hizashi was quick to get the clay washed from his hands, nearly missing a couple of spots and having to go in for a second pass. Shouta dried his hands off with paper towel, dumping it in the nearby trash, while Hizashi struggled with the hand drying units. He got there after about a minute of trying, Shouta watching with mild amusement. 

After the small fight with the hand dryer, they made their way out of the arts building and towards the quieter part of town. The walk was calm, Hizashi yammering on about this or that awkwardly while Shouta was content to listen. 

Which was…novel. Someone as loud and erratic as Hizashi would usually put him off and make him avoidant, but this was actually pleasant . The trip wasn’t particularly long, so not enough time to wear on Shouta’s nerves, which is how he chose to rationalize it.

The cat cafe staff gave Shouta the usual friendly greeting, a little surprised to see he had someone with him, and he prayed to any god, any that would listen, that they didn’t make assumptions about it. He took Hizashi to his usual spot, sitting in the little nook and waiting for Hizashi to sit.

Gudetama was quick to leave his little cubby, trilling and flicking his tail and trotting over to Shouta, dropping into his lap.

“Oh, that one likes you!” Hizashi sat cross legged, hands politely folded into his lap.

“I come here a lot, he’s familiar with me.” Shouta had both hands on Gudetama, scratching under his chin and between his shoulders. He nodded to one of the toys laying nearby, a fishing rod toy. “If you wave one of those around, one of the more active cats will probably come over and play with you.”

Hizashi turned to look at it, giving it a wary look.

“....I think I’m ok watching!” Hizashi’s smile was nervous… was he scared of cats? Why didn’t he say anything when Shouta had offered the cat cafe up?

“Give me your hand.” Shouta stopped petting Gudetama’s shoulders, holding his hand out palm up. Hizashi hesitated, but reached an arm out. Shouta took him by the wrist, guiding his hand over to Gudetama’s head. “Pet him gently, small motions.”

Hizashi looked like he was being held at gunpoint the moment his hand made contact with Gudetama’s fur, but he did as instructed, petting the cat in small, slow strokes. Gudetama pushed his head up into Hizashi’s hand, a pleased purr rumbling from his throat, which settled Hizashi down a little.

“Oh! He uh, likes me?” He asked, lifting his hand slightly so he could scritch between Gudetama’s ears, earning him a much heartier purr. 

“Yeah. Do cats not usually like you..?”

“I dunno! I don’t really interact with them much. I got scratched by one pretty badly when I was younger and I’ve been a little avoidant since.”

“They won’t scratch you here, they got picked for being docile and liking people.” Shouta picked the fishing rod toy himself, having to lean over Gudetama a little to do so. He started to wave it around, dragging it across the floor to simulate a little creature sneaking around, a few seconds later a small silver tabby bounding out of seemingly nowhere to chase it. “That’s Shimaaji. When she was a kitten she used to hide behind the curtains instead of greeting the patrons. She’s more confident now.”

Hizashi watched Shimaaji play, idly petting Gudetama the entire time.

“Was she scared?”

“She was, but the staff here are very patient and built her confidence. She’s still a little skittish, but this is one of her favorite toys.” Shouta offered it to Hizashi, while Shimaaji kicked at the fish at the end of it. “Play with her, she won’t hurt you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Hizashi stopped petting Gudetama and took the toy, pulling it away from Shimaaji and wiggling it around. His eyes lit up when she pounced, slapping her paws along the carpeted floor while hunting the fabric fish. Hizashi was quick to understand how the game worked, keeping the fish just out of reach, occasionally flicking it up into the air for Shimaaji to jump and chase after.

Eventually, Shimaaji abandoned the fish, approaching Hizashi. Shouta placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“She won’t hurt you.” Shouta reminded him, his voice gentle. “Hold out a hand to her, with a loosely curled fist, she’ll tell you where she wants to be pet.”

Hizashi followed the instructions, offering Shimaaji a loose fist. She bumped the side of her face against his fist, pressing her neck into it after. Hizashi was quick to understand what to do, turning his hand to work his fingers into her plush fur and give her scritches. He looked over to Shouta with a wide grin while Shimaaji purred, and Shouta returned the smile with an encouraging nod.

Eventually Shimaaji found her way into Hizashi’s lap, sat up with her front paws against the chest of his shirt while he used both hands to pet her and keep her steady. He leaned down a little, talking softly to her, telling her she was very cute, very pretty and so brave. Shouta idly pet Gudetama while watching, absolutely endeared by Hizashi. How quickly he’d gone from nervous to enamored with Shimaaji.

It took Hizashi a few minutes to realize he was being watched, cheeks flushing up bright red when it clicked.

“Ah! No don’t stare at me!” Hizashi laughed, trying to play off how embarrassed he was.

“I’m not.” Shouta’s smile was warm, leaning forward to prop his chin up on one arm, elbow resting on his knee. “She’s being very sweet, it’s cute.” Hizashi was cute, but he wasn’t going to say that, and he was going to worry about that thought later .

“I kinda wish I could take her home.” Hizashi let Shimaaji hop off his lap and return to wherever she had sprung from to play, shuffling to relax against the wall. “I wouldn’t be good with looking after a cat though.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“I’ve lived on my own for…ten years? Something like that! I’d be terrified to forget to feed it or whatever! I’d be heartbroken if anything bad happened because of me, man.”

“That makes sense.” Shouta could see multiple solutions to this problem, but he wasn’t going to come across like he was pressuring someone who was wary of cats to go ahead and adopt one on impulse. “I’ve wanted a cat for a while.”

“What’s stoppin’ you?”

“I can never pick just one or two.” Shouta averted his gaze, looking down at Gudetama. “Any time I look at shelter listings, I… want them all, and get decision paralysis about who to choose. I gave up after a few months.”

“That’s actually kinda sweet.” Hizashi reached over, giving Gudetama another pat, much more confident this time. “You got a big heart fulla love huh?”

“I guess so.” Why did that make Shouta’s chest feel so strange?

—

The crying was getting worse. Shouta found himself curled up in bed, pillow clutched to his chest and sobbing the moment he woke up. He also couldn’t keep his mind away from how Hizashi went from anxious around the cats to so confidently holding Shimaaji on his lap, leaning in and speaking to her so sweetly.

He had taken to her so quickly, he’d been so gentle and sweet with her, and it was fucking with Shouta’s emotions .

Whatever had affected his emotional state the week prior was apparently being deeply affected once again by cats . Of all things to do it, cats made sense, he was deeply fond of them and his life felt a little empty without his own, but this was getting ridiculous. He had to call out of work again , and while everyone was understanding,  and while they were considering this soulmate thing a medical condition given his circumstances…how much longer would they tolerate this?

He rolled out of bed after twenty or so minutes of crying, grumbling to himself while he made his morning coffee and set his bread away in the toaster. He was still a little weepy, still at threat of bubbling over, but he’d uninstalled instagram for now. He was at least mildly less at risk of finding himself collapsed into the couch sobbing like a fool.

He’d been emailed the sparknotes of the pottery class; pottery got made, and the next week’s session had been announced. They’d be going to a dance hall, apparently, and would be matched with someone on the day. Shouta didn’t like the sound of that, given the only person he had really spoken to was Hizashi, and even that had been somewhat against his will.

He um-ah’d about sending an email back asking if he could be paired with Hizashi, deciding against it after realizing it would be unfair to Hizashi. He was sure Aya and Tatsuya had enough expertise to know how to pair people up, and he would just hope that whoever he got matched with was a good sport and decent conversation.

…He failed at not crying again, at the thought of having to make small talk with someone new while he was in such an emotionally compromised state.

Over the next week he did manage to settle his anxieties. He forced himself to go to the local cafes at least once a day, and be vaguely social with staff, and even that was enough to settle his nerves about dancing with a relative stranger. At least a little , anyway. No matter how he reasoned with himself or talked himself into being fine with it, he couldn’t help but hope he got matched with Hizashi.

It was the familiarity, no matter how brief that familiarity may be. He wasn’t a particularly anxious person usually, but this was…new, higher stakes? It felt like there was a lot more pressure on him to be good at this, whatever this was. Hizashi felt like there was a higher rate of success for this .

On the day matching was very literal. Shouta had hoped that he’d get an email ahead of time with who he’d be matched with, maybe to avoid any awkward shuffling once they got to the dance hall, but no. He was going to find out once he got there , and he wasn’t feeling particularly great about it. Part of him seriously debated bowing out, but then the thought of leaving someone without a dance partner felt like a knife to the chest.

Potentially leaving Hizashi without a dance partner hurt even more.

He arrived at the dance hall a minute or two llater than everyone else, hoping to avoid any pre-matching anxieties. He was greeted quietly by everyone there, which was a bad sign. Quietly . Where was Hizashi? He looked around as he skirted the main crowd, standing awkwardly off to the side of them, with no sunshine blond in sight. 

He felt like he was about to start panicking right as the doors swung open, Hizashi bumbling into the lobby with a shy apologetic wave to Tatsuya, who returned it with a relieved smile. Shouta found himself gravitating towards Hizashi immediately, and the gesture was returned.

“Sorry for being late.” Hizashi bowed shortly, Shouta waving a hand dismissively.

“Don’t be. Nobody got paired up yet.”

Speak of the devil, though.

“Alright everyone!” Tatsuya clapped his hands together to get the group’s attention. “Now that everybody’s here we’re going to start pairing you up! This isn’t a dance class, no instructor! Just you and the music! If you can’t dance that’s ok! There’s a few spots in the hall with waltz guides on the floor…”

Shouta tuned out of the rambling, keenly aware of how close Hizashi was to him. They’d both huddled together, the anxiety between them so tangible Shouta swore he could cut it with a knife.

“...so the match ups are going to be…” Tatsuya ran through names, people raising their hands as they were called so they could find their partners quickly. “...Shouta and Hizashi…”

The relief Shouta felt at hearing the match up was unrivaled . He’d probably been less relieved to hear he’d gotten his teaching job. Hizashi’s tension left his shoulders, Shouta noticed them drop into a more relaxed position, before flashing him a grin.

“You know how to waltz?” 

“Yes.” Shouta had learned the basics before he’d committed to tap dancing, though it had been easily a decade and some change since he’d actually waltzed. “It’s been a while though.”

“Well you’re a step ahead of me! I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“I’ll do my best to teach you.”

Hizashi took the lead on the way to the dance floor, and thankfully it looked like the place had been rented out for just the group. No random members of the public to make what was already going to be embarrassing even more humiliating. Shouta didn’t make his way to the section of the hall that had the waltz guide, it couldn’t be that difficult to dredge up from his memory.

The first step was to stand closer to-

Something about having to get close to Hizashi made his entire body flush hot. He pursed his lips, doing his best to ignore the way his stomach flipped while stepping ahead of Hizashi and turning to face him, moving their bodies closer together. 

“Alright, you’re taller so you need to put your hand here-” Shouta ignored how Hizashi looked just as flustered as he did while taking his wrist. Shouta guided it to his middle back, letting it rest there. He lay his own hand on Hizashi’s upper arm, extending the other outwards with a bent elbow. Hizashi didn’t need to be instructed on that, reaching his arm out and taking Shouta’s hand, apprehensively interlacing their fingers. “Good. Now follow me-”

Shouta leaned, supported by Hizashi while he took a step back, Hizashi following somewhat awkwardly, but in good enough time their feet touched down onto the beautiful mosaic tiling beneath them. He turned them slightly, taking another step, guiding them in the circular, rhythmic motion of a waltz, just much slower than the dance was intended to be. Hizashi was laser focused, looking just a little past Shouta while he tried not to step on toes or trip over.

“Do you think you can go faster?”

“Yeah!”

They managed to go a little quicker, and with another prompt they got up to what Shouta assumed was closer to the intended speed of the waltz. The music currently playing was the wrong tempo entirely, but Hizashi had already figured it out, humming the rhythm to some song or other that helped them keep in time.

Despite Hizashi never having waltzed before, and Shouta being painfully out of practice, they were moving together so fluidly, so naturally . The music playing through the speakers didn’t even matter, Shouta could hardly even hear it anymore. Not over Hizashi’s hum, or the way their bodies pressed closer together when they turned. The more in tune their movements became, the tighter Hizashi held him, it was-

It was dizzying. 

Hizashi stumbled over his own feet, yelping as he started to fall. Shouta was quick to act, bracing himself on his heels and catching him, both arms flying from their position to hold him up. They were still for a moment, one of Hizashi’s hands on Shouta’s shoulder, leaning back precariously, but fully supported. There was silence between them, just looking at each other for a handful of seconds, before Hizashi laughed .

He tilted his head back, his shoulders and entire upper body shaking while he laughed, one hand resting atop his head. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment… and he was radiant .

Shouta’s chest squeezed, his heart almost hurt . His eyes were fixed on Hizashi, focused on how beautiful he was like this. Not just like this, he’d been beautiful the weeks Shouta had known him, had probably been so forever . Shouta gripped Hizashi’s shirt tighter while a flood of emotions rushed through him. It felt like time slowed down, damn near stopped . The world fell away from Shouta’s vision, and the only thing he could see was Hizashi .

His heart thumped hard in his chest while tears welled up in his eyes, his breath hitching as Hizashi’s laughter ceased and he looked back to Shouta. When their gazes met, Hizashi froze, his breathing stuttering to a stop. Shouta didn’t shy away, like he thought he would, thought he maybe should . Hizashi still hadn’t lifted himself to stand, still relying on Shouta to hold him up, not that he minded. Not that he wanted to let go just yet.

Whatever this emotion may be, it was… intense . It was longing , almost. He wanted to be closer to Hizashi, closer than being pressed right up against him. Hizashi finally lifted himself to his feet proper and leaned in closer as if he knew , so close their noses brushed against each other so lightly. It tickled, and Hizashi fucking giggled about it. Shouta grinned, laughing softly. He lifted his head just enough to actually touch their noses together. What had come over him?

Hizashi’s hands slid up over Shouta’s shoulders, arms winding around his neck, and now they weren’t needed for support, Shouta’s arms found themselves holding Hizashi’s waist.

“You’re beautiful.” Shouta murmured,with confidence he had no business possessing. Hizashi’s cheeks flushed a deep red, stuttering to try get words out but succeeding at an entire none . Shouta tipped his head to the side, just enough he could move in closer, their lips barely a hair's breadth apart. “Can I-?”

“ Please .”

When their lips connected, it felt like the floor fell away. Shouta’s knees felt weak , even with the nervous gentleness of the kiss. He thought they would fold under him when Hizashi grew bolder, pressing a little further into Shouta’s lips while one hand lifted to gently cup the back of his head. 

Shouta wasn’t even sure when his eyes had closed, or when his breathing became so heavy through his nose. There was no telling how long they’d been there, lost to the world off to the side of the dancefloor, but when they finally parted… Shouta burst into tears. He pushed his face into Hizashi’s neck, clinging to the back of his shirt while sobs shook his entire body.

Without hesitation Hizashi’s arms unwound from his neck to wrap around his back, holding him close. He pet Shouta’s hair, humming softly to him to comfort him.

This was why Hizashi kept gravitating towards him. This was why he’d been crying for the past few weeks.

It all made sense now, even if it was aggravating that it had to happen in the middle of a fucking dancefloor . Shouta drew back from Hizashi’s neck, still wet eyed and now more aware of his surroundings. He pretended that nobody was looking at them, or had been looking at them. 

He gratefully accepted Hizashi using his thumb to wipe away some of the tears that spilled over onto his cheeks, exhaling shakily when Hizashi held his face gently. He nuzzled into Hizashi’s palm, trying not to let the relief overwhelm him again.

The relief, the joy, the… something he couldn’t quite put a name to, was that the feeling of a soul bond? He hoped so, it felt vibrant and motivated . It made him want to hold onto Hizashi forever.

“I guess we don’t need this group anymore huh?” Hizashi grinned wide and lopsided, his eyes warm with affection. 

The sudden switch in emotions should have startled Shouta, but the space where the reasonable confusion should have been was occupied by contentment. He wasn’t scared like he thought he’d be, he was just glad .

Really he should have known he would end up with someone that seemed so opposite to himself in every way, and deep down he knew it would be sudden, because of how late his bond was. 

“I think we can leave.” Shouta’s only regret with escaping the dancefloor was having to step away from Hizashi, but when their hands linked and they walked still as close together as they could manage without falling over each other, he was comforted. 

Aya and Tatsuya waved to them as they left, not interrupting them but writing something down rapidly on their notes as the two walked by. Good, let them. Shouta hoped that whatever governing body they reported to would give them a bonus or something for managing to find the bond within their group.

“I took the bus here.” Shouta turned to Hizashi once they’d stepped outside. 

“Ah! I drove! I can drive us to…” Hizashi laughed gently, lifting his free hand to wipe away  a few tears that formed. “Well, I don’t actually know where to. I can drive you home?”

“Only if you’ll be joining me.” 

“Well, duh .” 

They flashed grins at each other, and not a moment after they’d started walking to the car park did it start to rain . They ran across the car park, holding hands and laughing like teenagers on a first date while Hizashi tried to remember where on earth  he’d parked his car. Which became an even funnier ordeal when Shouta saw that his car was incredibly unique, it was only a nearly two hundred year old model . In nice condition, though, he could tell Hizashi took good care of it.

Even though Shouta had never slid into the passenger seat of this car before, and even though he’d only known Hizashi for a few weeks, this felt so natural. It felt like he’d been stepping into that car for years, like he’d been grinning at Hizashi while the engine hummed to life for just as long.

Shouta supposed waiting as long as he did to try and find his soulmate was borderline destiny .