Work Text:
Spring, 2021
The first time Daeyoung saw him, the cherry blossoms were falling.
Pink petals drifted in slow spirals, carried by the wind, settling on the damp ground of the school field. It somehow reminded him of that one animation Makoto Shinkai made—5 centimeters per second.
The late afternoon sun painted everything in golden hues, and the air smelled faintly of grass and spring.
That was when Tokuno Yushi walked past him—his broad shoulders relaxed, his hair ruffled by the breeze, and his soccer uniform slightly damp from practice.
Daeyoung, a recent transfer student from Daegu, South Korea, had just finished his first music club meeting and was heading toward the main gate when he saw Yushi. A group of boys from the soccer team called out to him, but Yushi only responded with a small nod before continuing to walk toward the lockers. He was quiet, almost distant, but something about him made Daeyoung's heart feel unsteady.
It wasn’t love at first sight. But it was something close.
April
“Tokuno-senpai, can I sit here?”
Yushi looked up from his lunch, slightly startled. His eyes were lighter than Daeyoung expected, warm a bit darker brown under the sun, framed by his long lashes. He didn't respond immediately, just blinked once before shifting slightly to make space.
Daeyoung sat, feeling his hands go clammy—somethingbin which rarely happen to him who had cold hands. He had been gathering the courage to talk to Yushi for weeks. Him being so popular among the students made it hard for Daeyoung to approach him first and they weren't in the same class, well, because Yushi was one year above him. But Daeyoung often saw him during breaks—always with his soccer teammates, always quiet. Yushi wasn't cold, just… reserved, as if he preferred listening over speaking.
Today, however, he was alone. And Daeyoung took his chance.
“You are in the music club, right?” Yushi asked after a while, his voice quiet. It kind of tickled Daeyoung's ears.
Daeyoung nearly dropped his chopsticks. “You know me, senpai?!” Him and his big reaction, as always.
Yushi tilted his head slightly and chuckled, as if the question was odd. “You played the piano at the opening ceremony. You were really good, Daeyoung.”
Daeyoung's ears burned. His pronunciation of Daeyoung's name seemed awkward, But Daeyoung really liked it. In fact, if he could, he wanted to hear it forever. Haa... he should have brought a recorder from the music classroom.
Daeyoung hadn't expected Yushi to remember something so small and even remembered his name. He fiddled with his rice, trying to keep his voice even, trying to keep his cool.
“Ah… thank you. I didn’t think anyone noticed.” He said almost mumbling.
“I did.” Yushi said it so simply, as if it wasn't a big deal. But to Daeyoung, it was.
From that day on, they started having lunch together—sometimes in the cafeteria, sometimes under the cherry trees. Daeyoung talked, and Yushi listened. He told Yushi about his life in Korea, about how transferring here had made him feel like he was always two steps behind everyone else. Yushi never said much, but he always seemed to understand.
Once, when Daeyoung was struggling with Japanese grammar, Yushi took out his notebook and wrote down explanations in careful handwriting. He never said “let me help you” or “I will tutor you” but that was just how he was. He showed his care through actions, not words.
And Daeyoung… Daeyoung fell a little deeper every day.
May
Daeyoung didn't know when it became painful.
At first, it was just admiration. Then it became fondness. Then it became this—this unbearable ache every time Yushi smiled, every time their shoulders accidentally touched, every time Yushi leaned closer to read something over his shoulder.
It was unfair, Daeyoung thought. How could someone be so effortlessly kind? How could someone make him feel like this without even trying?
One afternoon, after Daeyoung finished doing his assignments alone in the quiet classroom, he watched Yushi on the soccer field, laughing quietly with his teammates. The sun set behind him, making him look almost unreal, and Daeyoung realized something bitter.
Yushi belonged there, in the warmth of the field, in the easy company of people who understood him. And Daeyoung… he was just someone who had stumbled into Yushi’s orbit.
He had always known this was one-sided. But knowing didn't make it hurt less.
June
It was raining.
Daeyoung stood in front of the shoes locker hall, gripping his bag tightly. The air smelled of wet pavement, and students hurried past him, eager to go back home and escape the downpour.
“Daeyoung?”
He turned, surprised. Yushi was there, holding his own umbrella, his hair slightly damp. Ah, he must have just finished practicing. Daeyoung thought, in a daze upon seeing Yushi up close.
“You didn't bring one?” Yushi asked, his brows furrowing as he noticed Daeyoung were only holding his bag in his hands.
Daeyoung shook his head. He had forgotten. He had been too caught up in his thoughts, thinking about the upcoming music competition, about how he had been avoiding Yushi lately, about how pathetic it was to love someone of the same gender who would never see him that way.
Yushi sighed, then without a word, stepped closer and tilted his umbrella over Daeyoung's head.
“Come on. I will walk you home.”
Daeyoung's heart twisted. He wanted to refuse. He wanted to say, No, it’s fine, senpai, I can run through the rain, I can survive without you being so—damn—nice to me.
But instead, he nodded. As if it was an automatic reaction.
They walked in silence, their steps in sync. Raindrops hit the fabric of the umbrella in soft, rhythmic beats. The world felt smaller under its cover, just the two of them sharing a space too intimate for what they were.
“Daeyoung.” Yushi said suddenly, his voice almost drowned out by the rain due to how light it was.
“Did I… do something wrong?”
Daeyoung's breath caught. “What?”
“You have been avoiding me...” Yushi said, his eyes unreadable. “Did I upset you?”
Daeyoung gripped the strap of his bag, his nails digging into the fabric.
No, Yushi senpai. You didn't upset me. You just made me fall for you, and now I don’t know how to deal with it.
“It's nothing, senpai...” Daeyoung forced a smile. “I have... just been busy.”
Yushi didn't look convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he adjusted the umbrella, shifting it more toward Daeyoung's side.
Daeyoung stared at him, at the way Yushi always made space for him without asking for anything in return. And he wondered—if he let himself be selfish just for one moment, would it be okay?
Would it be okay to imagine, just for a second, that Yushi cared about him the way he cared about Yushi?
But the rain continued to fall, and the cherry blossoms had long since disappeared.
And Daeyoung knew.
Love that fell at five centimeters per second would never reach the ground together.
The end.