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Okarun kept to himself. Phrase it however you want, shy, reserved, repressed, they were all just words to describe one fact:
Okarun didn’t usually show his entire personality around people.
It was getting better obviously, considering the onslaught of new friends that had joined his life; allowing him to open up more.
But this also meant Momo got to watch new quirks and traits came out every once in an awhile, and she loved it.
The first time she had realized she was seeing an unseen side of him was during one of many post battle dinners hosted at her, where Aira and Momo had been bickering over, she couldn’t remember. She especially didn’t remember what insult towards Aira had slipped from her, because the only thing she remembered was the barked out laugh that rang out through the room after it.
When Momos head snapped towards the noise, she could see Okarun from across the table covering his mouth with his hand; very poorly hiding the giggles falling out of his lips. “I’m sorry Miss Shiratori— that was just so—“ he burst out into full blown cackles.
Momo felt like she was frozen, she physically could not look away. His laughter felt like a siren song and his smile something so warm the sun couldn’t even compare.
Did you know if you use yokai powers long enough, they can slowly begin to seep into one’s human form? Momo didn’t. She suddenly became very hyper aware of this fact when Okarun’s head tilted back, still giggling, and little fangs gleamed in the sunlight.
Momo took a lot of care to remember details like that in that moment, like the chipped tooth he had, now fully on display, or how his face seemed to flush from his own laughter or the small smile he had as his laughter finally died down.
The rest of that dinner was a blur, Momo too busy replaying the memory and burning it into her mind.
When Okarun gave his usually close-lipped, still adorable smile as he waved goodbye; Momo instantly held a new goal she was determined to complete:
She was going to unravel every hidden, sweet layer of him.
Would it be weird to say Momo kind of liked seeing Okarun pissed off?
Not actually angry, obviously; but instead this sort of petty anger. The kind you got when you were already having a shit day but suddenly a piece of your clothing gets stuck in a door.
Momo poked her head into Okaruns classroom, immediately taking notice to his knitted brows and frown. Her concern for the expression was tainted by faint amusement, the expression reminding of her those perpetually frowning frogs.
“Okarun!” The way his expression immediately softened, even becoming a small smile once he looked up to the sound of her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Momo.
Despite how he seemed to mellow out a tad in her presence, he still didn’t talk as much, staring off ahead as if he wanted to explode whatever was in front of him.
When they reached the much more quiet, secluded stairs Momo nudged her shoulder against his. “Hey. What’s got a stick up your ass?”
She snickered when he whipped his head around to her with widened eyes and a deeper frown. “Nothing, it’s fine.” Momo took immediate notice of the hand that came up to scratch at the back of his own neck and the glance away from her.
“God, you are such a fibber. Not even a good one.” She tsked while shaking her head.
Okarun narrowed his eyes at her, displeased she could see through his lie. He sighed bedore he spoke, “it’s nothing, really, just— this guy from my math class was peeved I didn’t have the answers for the assignment and—“ Momo interrupted him, “do you usually just give him your work answers?”
The silence from him that was only filled by a huff answered the question plenty, but Okarun continued before she could berate him for it. “ANYWAYS. I told him I didn’t have the answers for today’s assignments yet, and he started yelling at me?? I’m sorry I was off getting my fucking- my fucking nuts back and literally saving the world! At least I have an excuse unlike that- that jackass!” He slammed a hand over his mouth, staring wide eyed at Momo. He murmured as he went to scratch at the back of his neck, “that was mean, sorry.”
Momo put up her hands placatingly. “No no! Compare to what I’ve said before, trust me, it isn’t mean at all.” Hoping to keep him going, and eager to see how his hands danced and his attitude peeked through, Momo pressed on. “So, how come he can’t do the work himself??”
She giggled at the loud, exasperated groan he let out. “Because he’s always making out with his girlfriend during class and teacher just— gave up trying to stop him.” Momo stuck her tongue out in response. “Gross. At least have some decorum and go to the bathrooms or something.”
“EXACTLY. And the sounds too— Miss Ayase— it’s disgusting.” Momo laughed at how his face scrunched up in disgust. She liked seeing Okarun like this. Maybe it wasn’t him being pissed off specifically she liked, more of just him being loud. Momo liked when Okarun felt comfortable enough to be loud and spunky and sharp-tongued.
When he seemed to finally look back at whatever sappy expression she probably had, he immediately went back to his usual flustered self. Momo didn’t grieve his agitated self. She loved all sides of him, after all.
When Momo had made it her mission to discover every sweet part of himself Okarun had kept to himself, she didn’t think of this.
When she felt Okarun sob, she was quick to run a hand through his short black hair.
She hadn’t thought about it, but that didn’t mean it was unwelcome.
A cocky alien that wanted to capture all of them got a good hit at her. A large gash down her back, very alarming at first sight but thankfully not too deep. Once the shock subsided, she had pushed through it just fine.
Later that night however, it seemed like it affected Okarun much more than she had thought.
Momo hadn’t fallen asleep yet, muscles aching too much to comfortably rest. So it was easy to see her door slowly peek open, a worried brown eye looking through.
He hadn’t expected her to be awake, to call him out and have him explain why he was there.
Momo could feel her confused irritation seep away as fast it had flared up as she watched Okarun begin to tremble explaining he had a nightmare; a nightmare that he wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t strong enough, that the blow on her back had been just a little deeper.
It was all too easy to offer the empty space in her bed to comfort him. It was far too easy for her arms to snake around him as he settled into between her legs, tears starting to stream.
It was all too easy for her heart to hurt when he started babbling out apologies for things he didn’t need to.
Momo made sure to remember each apology he gave. Apologies for being not being fast enough, apologies for crying at all, apologies for being weak. Momo would try very hard to make sure he didn’t apologize for such things, she decided.
Okarun leaned into the hand that ran through his hair, sobs subsiding for just a moment. He sighed when the same hand came down to cradle his face, thumb rubbing away at tears that still clung to his face. Momo huffed at the sight of his face flushing ever so slightly at the action.
“Why..” he glanced up at her then away, voice quiet. “..why are you even still friends with me, Miss Ayase?” His voice began to shake again. He scrunched his eyes closed and turned his face further into her palm as if to hide away from her gaze.
Momo stomped out the rage that flared up in her chest, wondering who and how many people had lead him to have to ask that. Whoever they were, they were stupid.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft as she slowly guided his face back to look at her, as if to not spook him. Sleepy, brown eyes opened to meet her determined gaze. Momo made sure her voice was steady, adamant to drill her words into his head. “I’m still friends with you because you’re literally one of the nicest, coolest people I’ve ever met; Okarun. You didn’t fail me or anything. I don’t think you ever could.”
Momo didn’t mention all the other reasons: like how she was obsessed with watching his hands dance as he rambled or seeing his head tilt back to reveal fangs and a chipped tooth while he laughed or witnessing his snarky-ness shine or how she found herself completely endeared by everything about him.
But god, when the words seemed to bring tears to his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her in return and buried his face into the nape of her neck, did she want to.
God, she wanted to.
Okarun draws, did you know that?
Momo didn’t, until now at least. She made a note to ask him about more of his hobbies later.
“So…” even from behind, looking over his shoulder, she could see him tense up. “Whatcha drawing?”
Okarun whipped around to look back at her, face flushed. He glanced between the notebook in his lap and Momo. “Uhm. Nothing.”
Liar. He didn’t even try to hide it. Another look to the paper showed sketches of— “holy shit is that the weird monkey alien we fought before? The one that turned you into a can?”
Okarun gave a bashful little smile. “Yeah- yeah, it is. I’ve never heard of any myths of anything like monkey aliens! So I was thinking about finding some forums later to ask around and just using a drawing since I didn’t get a picture of it, unfortunately.”
Momo leaned down to get a better look at all of the details and notes on the drawing.
There wasn’t too much attention on light and shadow, instead focusing on the shapes of the alien and traits of the alien. The hatching along the head of the alien did well to set fur and hair apart from things like the long, narrow snout or the gloves. A smaller doodle of its staff was drawn to the side with a note beneath it, stating this staff was used for throwing things. Other notes along the paper went on about his common use of “bro” or the strange mechanics of his cans.
In a shorter terms, it was really good.
Momo grinned as she looked to Okarun. “Dude. You need to show me your drawings more often. What else do you have?” Anybody who says her face flushed a little at the grin he gave in return was a liar.
“Yeah! Yeah I think I have, uhm, Mr. Weeny somewhere in here..” Momo didn’t miss the way he seemed to turn the notebook away as if to hide certain pages. She’d have to interrogate him for that at some point.
As Momo leaned onto the bench to look at more of his drawings, watching his hands dance as he explained his thoughts and process, she could feel her heart flutter.
At one point, Momo leaned in closer with a devious grin. “Hey. Okarun. You should totally draw me at some point.” When his rambling came to a stop and he stared at her with an almost dumbfounded look, she nudged her shoulder against his. “They’re super good.”
Okarun snapped out of his small haze, a flush growing on his face. He gave a wobbly little smile then chuckled. “Yeah, yeah I’ll make sure I draw you soon.”
So it would seem nobody in this household had a grasp on sleep anymore.
Momo whirled around at the sound of footsteps, only finding a very tired looking Okarun blinking blearily at her.
His messy hair made Momos face flush as she turned away. “What’re you doing up?”
He gives a short hum, eyes squinting further when Momo flicks on the light above the stove. “I could ask you the same thing,” he mumbled.
Momo huffed, fumbling around the kitchen for a pot and her hidden instant ramen stash(Granny didn’t need to know she was eating junk food on occasion). “Just couldn’t sleep. Too jittery.”
She could hear Okarun chuckle, stepping forward to stand beside her. “I told you you shouldn’t have eaten all of that sugar.” Momo gave his shoulder a small whack as she poured water into the pot, setting it on the bow turned on stove. “Hey, it’s not my fault it tasted so good.”
Momo forced the ramen package open, freezing when the loud was obnoxiously loud. She hoped that didn’t wake up her granny. She looked to Okarun to see him squinting down at the wrapping. “..I’m surprised your granny even lets you keep that in the house.”
She gave him a sly grin while dumping the dry ramen into the water. “She doesn’t.” Momo made sure to ingrain the slight rasp his giggle had into her mind. Another trait of many she was glad to have been shown around her.
The silence that fell between them, only broken by the boiling of the water, was comfortable. Okaruns presence beside her was something her tired brain could entertain as being domestic. She snorted at the thought. Without turning away from the cooking noodles, she murmured to Okarun. “So, what’s your excuse for still being up?”
He shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep.. I’ve always had a hard time falling asleep.” When Momo glanced over to him with concern shown through her knitted brow, she found Okarun already looking back at her. “It- it’s been getting better recently..” Momo hummed, giving him a soft smile. “That’s good.”
Okarun looked soft like this. His hair was still a mess and despite the lack of glasses, his eyes still seemed as big and doe-like as always. The stove seemed to illuminate him like some of kind halo. The sight made fondness bubble up in her chest.
Momo let her vision shift deeper to his soul, simply because she could. She would be lying if she said she didn’t slightly enjoy the fact she was the only amongst their friend group able to see the most fragile part of a person. Specifically Okarun.
It simmered peacefully, a calming shade of blue with the occasional purple showing through: a telltale of the curse just below the surface. It was pretty.
“..I can feel when you do that you know.” Momos vision snapped back to normal when she heard Okarun mutter, seeing him now staring very hard at the cooking noodles.
Oh. She hadn’t considered that. Yeah, she could’ve guessed people felt something by the way they would shiver but she hadn’t considered that Okarun would feel it. Momo took the pot off of the stove, turning it off as she spoke. “What does it feel like, then?”
She could feel Okaruns eyes following her as he hummed in thoughts. “Tingly? I guess? Not- not in a bad way, though. Kind of like. Uhm.” Momo huffed in amusement when she turned around to see his hand spinning in a circle, eyes squinted like he always did when trying to think of an answer. He perked up when he finally found his answer. “Like when you just drank soda. Yeah, like that.”
Momo laughed lightly at the comparison. “That’s what my super awesome amazing psychic powers feel like? Soda??” Okarun gave small smile, giggling. “It was the only comparison I could think of! I’m too tired to think of something else!”
Momo paused in ripping open the little flavor packet to take in the way little fangs gleamed in the stove light. She decided right then that every other teenager at their school who never took a chance to know him was stupid.
In order to cover up the adoration soaring in her she used a psychic hand to give him a slight shove, her real hands too busy mixing in the flavoring. “You’re such a dork.” He only responded with a laugh.
Even if others hadn’t been able to see it, Momo was very happy to see all he has kept hidden.
Ken kept to himself. Phrase it however you want, shy, reserved, repressed, they were all just words to describe one fact:
Ken never really talked much. He was an observer.
Even as he opened up more, he was still very much an observer primarily.
This was especially true when it came to Momo Ayase.
He couldn’t help it(and believe him he tried), his eyes first landed on her when she protected him against those bullies and since then he never looked away.
Always observing, he would learn, meant seeing every trait and every little detail she might try to keep hidden.
For example, a nervous tick she had was separating the skin of her fingers away from underneath her nails using her thumb. Or the single freckle(beauty mark? Mole?) beneath her left eye. Or how much she was willing to let herself get hurt if it meant others could survive.
Did you know if you got her to laugh hard enough, Momo would snort? Well, Ken did. Ken knew and he would be lying if he didn’t preen at the fact he was the only one amongst their friends who got to know. Even if it was because Momo had thrown out various threats if he told anybody else.
Ken enjoyed this type of observing much more than the type he did growing up, an outcast just on the edge of his peers; wishing he was apart of them. This type of observation was born out of a simple curiosity to know everything about her.
And how could he forget a particularly fact he kept close to his chest:
That her eyes almost always seemed to fall to him(he would know, his eyes were almost always on her).
Almost as if she, too, was observing him.