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“What the hell?” Kojiro asks, confused.
The sky was perfectly clear just a few moments ago. Now it’s raining. Pouring is a more accurate word. The water that falls is so much that he wonders if they’re in typhoon season. The ground is getting muddier and muddier by the second. The wind is becoming stronger as well.
“The weather report didn’t say anything about rain,” Reiki comments. If it did, he would’ve brought a different skateboard.
“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Hiromi says, not waiting for anyone’s answer before running away to find the flower shop’s car.
Kaoru clicks his tongue and ties his hair in a bun to keep it from his face. “We should get out of here too. Let’s go to my car, come on.” He signals for the kids to follow him.
“Ah, man. I really wanted to try that new trick today,” Langa complains, but he still follows.
Everyone at S is doing the same thing, desperate to get out of the mountain and get to the safety of their homes before things get worse.
“Carla,” Kaoru says while running. “Probability of hailing?”
“The probability of hail is 82%, master,” the machine replies.
He clicks his tongue. They get to the car and he unlocks the doors. “Sit down and take off your shoes. I don’t want mud all over my car.”
Everyone hurries to sit in the car without stepping inside, and they remove their shoes before closing the doors.
“We’re going to your house,” Kaoru tells Kojiro as he turns on the engine. It’s not a question.
“My house?” he asks. “Why my house? What about the kids? Aren’t you going to drop them off?”
“I can’t risk my car getting wrecked by hail,” Kaoru says. “Your place is closer, and the garage is big.”
“Wrecked by hail? Dude, aren’t you exaggerating a bit? Don’t you have insurance?”
“Of course I do, but I need it for work tomorrow morning, I can’t take it to get repaired that fast.”
“You might have to skip work tomorrow morning, too,” Miya comments. He leans forward to show them his phone. “The news is saying it might hail tomorrow morning too, and the rain won’t stop until around eight, it seems.”
Kaoru and Kojiro look at each other silently for a second.
“Do you guys mind going to Kojiro’s?” Kaoru asks.
“Hey! Why are you inviting them to my place?” Kojiro complains but then turns to the kids in the backseat with a smile. “You can spend the night at my house, no problem at all.”
“Thank you,” Reki and Langa say at the same time.
“Okay,” Miya accepts too.
“Great, fasten your seatbelts,” Kaoru says, “and don’t forget to call your parents to tell them you are okay.”
“So responsible,” Kojiro taunts him in a whisper. “I don’t remember you being that worried about your parents when we were their age.”
“Shut up.”
“My mom will kill me if I wake her up with a call, but I’ll text her to tell her I’m at Langa’s,” Reki says.
“I’ll tell her I’m at yours, then,” Langa says.
“Sure. You can tell them you’re at mine, too,” Reki tells Miya.
“Thanks.”
Kaoru would normally scold them for lying to their parents, but he’s sure in these circumstances it is better to the alternative of telling them they’re spending the night at some random adult’s house. He is still worried about Miya, though.
“Are you sure, Miya? I can take you home if you’d prefer. What’s the address?”
“It’s okay.” Miya shakes his head. “My parents won’t even notice I’m not there, my dad wakes up for work before I do and never checks on me to not wake me up. I’ll just text my mom now and she’ll see the message tomorrow morning.”
Kaoru bites his tongue to not call his parents irresponsible. Because what kind of parent lets their thirteen-year-old son go out so late at night? And even if they don’t allow him, how did they not notice once that he was missing?
As much as the thing annoys him, it comes in handy now. He is in no position to tell anyone how to raise their kids, anyway. It’s not like he has kids of his own. And he also grew up with very busy and distant parents that he rarely interacted with as a teenager. He spent more time at the Nanjos' house than his own.
They arrive at Kojiro’s place pretty quickly. He lives near his restaurant, and Kaoru’s workplace, and is a lot closer to S than any of the other’s houses.
“There’s a raincoat on the drawer under the seat,” Kaoru tells him before he can jump out of the car to open the garage gate.
“Always so prepared for everything,” Kojiro teases him as he takes it from the drawer.
“One of us has to be.”
The man unfolds the coat and puts it on. “And somehow it is the perfect size.”
“Shut up.” Kaoru is glad it’s late at night and no one can see his blush. “Go open the door before it hails.”
“On it, princess.”
He runs from the car to open the garage door. The raincoat helps, but the storm is so strong that he gets chilled to the bone anyway.
As soon as Kaoru stops the engine and Kojiro closes the door behind them, it begins to hail.
“Woah, perfect timing,” Reki says, surprised.
“Thank God.” Kaoru sighs in relief.
The garage is exactly what one would expect from the skater, cluttered and a little chaotic, but warm. The walls are lined with mismatched shelves, half-filled with old cooking equipment and boxes labeled with messy handwriting. His motorcycle is at the back, next to a black punching bag, old and patched over. A few bags of dog food are lined up against the wall, next to a chest of drawers.
The kids look around curiously, taking in the place. Kaoru, used to being here, doesn’t ask for permission before setting his skateboard to charge next to where Kojiro left his board.
“Alright. Leave your boards here, and follow me.”
He guides them through the laundry room, where he discards the raincoat and his hoodie. He grabs a bunch of towels and opens the door at the other end of the room.
As soon as they step into the living room, two excited balls of fur run to greet them. More accurately, they run to greet Kaoru.
“Traitors, both of you!” Kojiro says. “I’m your owner, not him!”
Both the Labrador and the Bernese mountain dog ignore him, content with Kaouru’s pet.
“Cute,” Reki laughs, reaching to pet them too. “What are their names?”
“The bernese is Tiramisu, the lab is Pesto,” Kojiro replies.
They bark at hearing their names and bask in the attention the boys give them. Meanwhile, Kojiro disappears to leave the pile of towels in the bathroom. The dogs only leave the others’ side when they hear the sound of food hitting their bowls.
The house is tidier than the garage and quite stylish. A big, dark leather couch dominates the center of the living room, in front of a tea table that holds the TV remote, along with a pair of reading glasses and a forgotten cup. On the wall behind the sofa, there’s a wide mirror, and next to it a shelf with books, pictures, and different trinkets. There’s even an old-looking brown teddy bear.
The air smells faintly like garlic and tomato like he was meal-prepping earlier. The kitchen peeks through an open archway, spotless and modern, with sleek black countertops and a stainless-steel fridge covered in photos and mismatched magnets.
On the wall opposite where they are, a hallway leads to the bathroom and the bedroom, both doors closed.
“Alright, who wants to shower first?” Kojiro asks when he returns.
Right on cue, Kaoru sneezes.
He chuckles. “Well, there’s my answer. Go warm up before you get a cold, princess.”
“I’m fine, the kids should go first—” Another sneeze doesn’t allow him to finish.
“Yeah, no. Go, I’ll bring you some clothes,” Kojiro insists.
Kaoru rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest further and goes to the bathroom.
“You kids feel free to sit anywhere, I’ll turn the heating up,” Kojiro says as he walks to the bedroom.
They don’t want to get the couch wet, so Reki and Langa sit down on the chairs at the dining table. Miya remains standing, curiously scanning the shelves.
The owner of the house walks out of his room after a couple of minutes, holding a clean and, most importantly, dry, change of clothes for Kaoru. He knocks on the bathroom door and, once he gets permission, walks in and closes the door behind him.
A few moments later, Kaoru walks out with his hair wrapped in a towel, and wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants Kojiro gave him. They fit him just fine, so it’s clear they’re not his friend’s clothes, but his own.
Kaoru looks at the puddles forming on the floor where the kids are and sighs. They’ll have to mop after this. He leaves the hairdryer on the table and motions for them to follow him. “Come, I’ll try to find you something you can wear after you bathe.”
He takes them to the bedroom. It’s neater than they expected, and the bed is made nicely. One of the nightstands holds a wireless charging station and a bunch of creams and skincare products. The other one has a water bottle and a magazine with a thin layer of dust on top.
The dresser is big, and Kaoru is rummaging through the drawers, shelves, and racks to find something that can fit the kids, at least just enough so they don’t look like they’re wearing potato sacks once they get out of their wet clothes.
He holds up a yellow hoodie in front of Langa and nods. “This should work for you.”
He has to find him pants next, but he stops when he spots something he hasn’t seen in many, many years, at the very bottom of a random drawer.
“Well, I don’t know why the hell he has this in here but.” He turns around, holding a high school uniform. “I think it might fit you, Reki.”
“Joe’s uniform?” he asks, examining it. “How old is this thing?”
“It must be ancient,” Miya adds.
“Oi,” Kaoru warns. “It’s not ancient. We only graduated eight years ago.”
“Yeah, so, ancient,” Reki agrees.
Kaoru mentally goes over all the reasons why he shouldn’t punch a kid, and goes back to searching for pants for Langa. He decides on a pair of black joggers and hands them to him.
Then he looks at Miya. His expression twists like he’s realizing, for the first time, that Miya is smaller than a well-fed housecat. "You…might be a challenge.”
The boy crosses his arms. “Not my fault you’re all giants.”
After looking for a while, Kaoru emerges with a bright red, slightly crumpled t-shirt that says "Pasta La Vista, Baby" in bold white letters. It’s from their middle school days, so smaller than the rest of the clothes. He would love to burn that horrendous thing, but for some reason, Kojiro loves it.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Miya stares at it with his mouth wide open, while Reki and Langa laugh loudly in the background.
“Take it or leave it, fashion icon.”
Miya glares but grabs it. Kaoru throws him a pair of black basketball shorts too. “I know these are big, but maybe if you pull the drawstrings as far as possible, they’ll be wearable.”
By the time they’re done with the clothes, Kojiro comes out of the bathroom and into the room. He raises a brow at the sight of them holding their mismatched pile of clothes. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Alright, you three. Bathroom. Now. Go wash up and change before you soak the whole damn house."
Reki grins, grabbing his borrowed uniform. "Yes, sir!"
Miya and Langa follow him. The Canadian is a bit hesitant about bathing with the others, but he’s more in a hurry to get out of his wet clothes than embarrassed about being naked in front of his friends.
“Feel free to use any products except the purple bottles!” Kojiro calls after them.
The bathroom is nice. The floors and walls are lined with clean, dark grey tiles, and the air smells faintly of soap and lavender shampoo. A deep soaking tub sits against the far wall, half-covered by a sliding glass partition. The washing area is right next to it, with a detachable shower head mounted on the wall and a small shelf holding shampoo bottles, conditioner, and body soap. There’s a single plastic stool and a plain white bucket placed neatly by the drain. A towel rack hangs nearby, already holding three towels, ready to be used.
Reki is the first one to undress and sit on the stool. He sighs dramatically. "Man, Joe’s house is way nicer than I thought. I figured it’d be, like, a bachelor cave or something."
Langa awkwardly takes off his clothes, facing the opposite wall. “It’s cleaner than I expected. It smells of food, just like his restaurant.”
“I bet he’s cooking all the time. It’s making me hungry,” Reki says. He grabs the showerhead and tests the temperature of the water before aiming it at his head. He hums, content with the warm water. He already feels better.
Miya stands off to the side, arms crossed. He’s reluctant to get started. He eyes the tub, then the other two. "Are you guys blind, or did you seriously not notice all the stuff around the house?"
Reki blinks water out of his eyes. "What stuff?"
Miya groans. "The pictures? The glasses? The clothes that were Kaoru’s size, like, the ones he came out wearing?"
Langa tilts his head, thoughtful. "Maybe he stays over a lot."
“Yeah, or maybe they’re dating,” Miya says flatly.
Reki freezes mid-scrub, then bursts out laughing. "Pfft, no way! Joe probably just has girls over all the time and Kaoru crashes here whenever he’s too tired to go home, or something. They’re friends, no?”
Miya frowns. "I’m serious. Look, there’s even two toothbrushes in the glass.” He points to the sink, where a glass with an Eiffel Tower logo does indeed hold two toothbrushes, one green, one pink. “Plus, the shelves and the fridge are filled with pictures of them together. There are some of other people, yes, but mostly of them. And there’s that weird teddy bear too. Why would Joe have a teddy bear unless someone gave it to him?”
Reki snorts. "Maybe it’s from one of his girlfriends." He rinses his hair after applying shampoo.
“Or a childhood plushie,” Langa suggests.
“It could be, you’re right,” the boy shrugs. “But what about these?” He grabs one of the purple bottles, the shampoo. “Lavender scented shampoo,” he reads, “perfect for long, straight hair. Use it if you want thicker, longer, and shinier hair. Has a calming effect, perfect to reduce stress and promote relaxation.” He stops and looks at the other two. “Does that sound like Joe to you?”
Reki laughs again. “Yeah, no, he definitely doesn’t use that. This five-in-one I grabbed is half-empty.”
“Then why would he have it?” Miya asks, arching a brow.
"Maybe it’s for Kaoru," Langa says quietly, watching the steam curl in the air. He sounds thoughtful like the idea makes more sense to him the longer he considers it.
Reki pauses, tilting his head. "Huh. I guess... yeah, that makes sense.” He shrugs, grabbing the bucket to rinse himself off. The warm water feels good, washing away the cold ache from earlier. "Still doesn’t mean they’re dating, though. Maybe he just has one here from when he stays over.”
“Do you have your own shampoo at Langa’s house? Or a toothbrush?” Miya asks, trying to make a point.
“Well, no, but I don’t stay at his house often!” Reki argues. He stands up, water dripping from his hair. He gestures to the tub. "I’m getting in. Langa, you’re up."
Langa nods, a little stiff as he moves to take Reki’s spot on the stool. He hesitates before sitting, the plastic cool against his skin. He glances over his shoulder as Reki lowers himself into the tub with a satisfied groan. The water sloshes gently around him, steaming and comforting.
"Ahh... this is the best ," Reki sighs, sinking deeper until only his head and knees peek out from the water.
Langa turns the showerhead on and mimics what Reki did earlier, testing the temperature with his hand. He lets the warm spray hit his back first, relaxing into it. His muscles feel less tense already.
Miya watches them both for a moment and shakes his head. He sits down on the floor next to Langa and grabs the non-purple bottle of shampoo. “I don’t know, I still think they’re dating.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Reki suggests, grinning.
Miya’s eyes light up. “Sure.”
“I say they’re not dating. Loser buys winner ice cream?”
“Deal.”
Langa sighs, but there’s a tiny smile on his face. "You two are ridiculous."
Miya smirks. "We’ll see who’s ridiculous when I’m eating free ice cream."
“Maybe I’ll bet they’re dating too,” Langa says. The idea of free ice cream sounds good.
“Hey!” Reki splashes him with water.
“How do we find out if they’re together or not, though? If they didn’t tell us, I don’t think they will if we ask them,” Langa wonders.
“We’ll just have to find proof.” Miya shrugs as if it’s a simple deal.
When they finish with the bathroom and step out, they find Kojiro in the kitchen, making pizza. Kaoru is in front of the living room mirror, applying some kind of product to his hair. The hair dryer is plugged, on top of the backrest of the couch.
"That stuff he’s using was on the bedside table." Miya leans toward Langa and Reki, his voice low.
Reki scoffs, crossing his arms. "So? He probably just forgot it there. It doesn’t mean they’re dating."
"It’s kind of weird." Langa shrugs. "But maybe he sleeps over a lot."
Reki groans. "That doesn’t mean anything! Friends can crash at each other’s places all the time."
Before Miya can argue back, Kojiro calls over. "Hey, you three! Get over here. Food’s ready."
They gather around the table, Kojiro setting two pizzas down proudly. One is half chashu, half nori seaweed, while the other one is half margherita, half pepperoni.
“You better be grateful I was making pizza dough before S or we wouldn’t have enough dinner for everyone,” he says as he sits down next to Kaoru. He pours himself and Kaoru a glass of white wine.
They dig in, and for a while, there’s only the sound of chewing and the occasional contented sigh. The pizza is really good, as expected from a professional chef.
“I didn’t know you knew each other since you were kids,” Miya is the one to break the silence. “There’s tons of photos of you together.”
Kojiro blinks, caught mid-bite. Kaoru groans.
“We met in kindergarten,” the first one answers. “We grew up together.”
“Unfortunately,” Kaoru deadpans.
Kojiro rolls his eyes but chuckles. “We both wanted the last shovel to play in the sandbox.” His eyes sparkle at the memory. “We ended up fighting, and the teacher forced us to take turns with the shovel.”
“We've hated each other ever since,” Kaoru adds, but it's clear he doesn't mean it. There’s the faintest pull of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
No one spends twenty years of their life with someone they hate.
“When did you begin to skate?” Reki asks, mouth full.
“In high school,” Kaoru is the one to reply this time. “We didn’t have anything better to do.”
“ And you were trying to find any excuse possible to piss off your parents,” Kojiro accuses him with a smirk.
Kaoru hits the back of his hand. “Shut up, no I wasn’t.” He turns to the kids. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Oh but yes you were,” Kojiro goes on. “Didn’t you get your piercings done behind their backs, too?”
The kids’ jaws drop.
“You had piercings?” Reki asks.
“I’m going to kill you, Kojiro,” Kaoru says, covering his face with his hand.
“He did. I think some of the pictures on the shelf show him with them,” he continues, ignoring him.
Miya immediately gets up from the table, followed by the other two. Kojiro was telling the truth.
The first picture stands out immediately. It’s an old one, slightly faded at the edges but well cared for. Kaoru and Kojiro look younger, high-school-aged. They are standing shoulder to shoulder with a girl between them. She’s got a punk vibe: half-purple, half-black hair styled in messy layers, a nose ring, and a grin that screams trouble. Kojiro’s arm is slung lazily over her shoulder, and Kaoru’s on her other side, wearing a rare, genuine smile. He’s almost unrecognizable with multiple silver piercings: a helix and two lobe piercings on one ear, a small stud on the other. The three of them look carefree, the kind of happiness that only comes from being young and untouchable. Behind them is what looks like a skate park, half-pipes and ramps in the background, spray-painted with graffiti. The girl’s holding a skateboard too, covered in stickers.
“Who's that?” Reki asks, pointing at the girl.
Kojiro, still sitting at the table, wipes his mouth with a napkin. “If you’re talking about the girl with the half-purple hair, that’s Yui. We were friends in high school, but she moved to Canada after graduation.”
“She looks cool,” Miya says, sounding like he actually means it.
“She was,” Kojiro agrees, a little nostalgic.
“Kojiro had the biggest crush on her back then,” Kaoru says, leaning his chin on his hand with a smug little smile.
“No, I didn’t!” Kojiro protests immediately, a little too fast.
“Yes, you did. All the boys did.” Kaoru’s tone is light, but there’s something amused in the way he says it, like he’s remembering just how ridiculous they all were.
Kojiro scoffs. “You didn’t.”
“I wasn’t like the rest of you.” Kaoru shrugs, unbothered.
Kojiro snorts, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah. We figured that out eventually.”
It’s a throwaway comment, easy to miss, but the warmth in his voice lingers for a second too long. Kaoru doesn’t deny it, doesn’t say anything at all, just rolls his eyes and looks away, but there’s no bite to it.
Miya squints between the two of them like he’s putting a puzzle together. Reki frowns but doesn’t seem to get it. Langa tilts his head, thoughtful.
“Still,” Miya says, breaking the moment. “She looks like she’d be cool to hang out with.”
Kojiro grins. “She was. Total menace, though. Worse than Kaoru.”
Kaoru hums, unimpressed. “Flattering.” He takes a sip of wine.
The next photo is of them in a different setting, with an unfamiliar city skyline in the background, and bright lights reflecting on a glass balcony. It looks like Los Angeles. Kojiro’s grinning in sunglasses, holding a massive burger in one hand. Kaoru’s next to him, looking less impressed but still tolerating the photo, his hair a little shorter than it is today. His ears are hidden by it, so they can’t tell if he still has piercings or not.
Another frame shows the two of them older, in Paris, unmistakable with the Eiffel Tower behind them. Kaoru’s bundled in a long coat and scarf, while Kojiro stands next to him, holding up a pastry like it’s a prize. Kaoru’s trying (and failing) to hide a smile behind his scarf.
Further down the shelf, there’s one more. This one looks to be set in Italy, with Kaoru and Kojiro standing side by side in front of a sprawling, sunlit view of the Colosseum. They’re facing away from the camera, Kaoru’s hair a messy halo in the evening light, and Kojiro’s got his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s a candid shot, like someone caught them mid-conversation.
Miya stares at the pictures for a long second, then leans toward the other two. "They’ve definitely been everywhere together.”
Reki huffs. “Yeah, so? Friends can travel.”
“You went to Paris together?” the younger boy asks in a louder tone to be heard by the adults.
“Yeah. And Los Angeles. And New York,” Kojiro replies.
“And Barcelona, and Bangkok,” Kaoru adds.
“And he came to visit Rome while I was studying there. Dragged me to so many museums I didn’t care about.”
“ Someone has to be the educated one.”
They begin to bicker, and Miya looks way too smug as he whispers to the others. “I’m telling you. They’re dating.”
Reki is finding it harder and harder to deny.
“And what’s up with the teddy bear?” Miya asks, picking it up from the shelf.
“Oh, that old thing.” Kojiro gets up from the table and approaches them, eyeing the plush bear in Miya’s hands with a mix of fondness and embarrassment. “I’ve had that since I was a baby. My mom gave it to me when I was born. I used to take it everywhere.” He scratches the back of his neck, sheepish. “Couldn’t sleep without it for years. It’s kind of dumb, but I never really had the heart to throw it out.”
Kaoru snorts softly from the table, swirling his wine glass. “Dumb? Please. You wouldn’t even let the teacher take it away during nap time in kindergarten. I think you bit her when she tried.”
“You bit a teacher!?” Reki asks, amused.
“I was three!” the man defends himself.
Kaoru laughs—really laughs—and it’s a rare, genuine sound that catches the kids off guard. “He used to carry that thing around everywhere. Playground, field trips, the bathroom…” He smirks at Kojiro. “I’m surprised it’s still in one piece. He wouldn’t even let me touch it.”
“You tried to rip its arm off!” Kojiro fires back, but there’s no real heat behind it.
“I was trying to see if it made noise,” Kaoru corrects him, voice light. “It didn’t.”
Kojiro looks at him for a second longer than necessary before shrugging, feigning nonchalance.
Miya, still holding the bear, stares between them with the look of someone who’s just found another piece of his ‘they’re definitely dating’ puzzle. Reki pointedly avoids his eyes.
“Anyway,” Kojiro says, after a big yawn, and claps his hands. “We should get ready for bed. I’ll bring you boys two futons. The other can take the couch.”
“Who’ll take the couch?” Reki asks.
“I don’t know, but I only have two extra futons.” Kojiro shrugs. “Unless you wanna share.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Miya and Langa say at the same time.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” Reki declares, holding out a fist.
It takes three rounds, but Miya wins in the end.
“Yes!” He cheers and jumps onto the couch.
“Rigged,” Reki claims, already pulling one of the futons open. Langa hums in agreement.
“Sucks to be you.” Miya sticks out his tongue.
Kojiro chuckles, leaving them to sort themselves out while he heads to the closet to grab blankets and pillows.
By the time the kids finish setting up, he returns with an armful of bedding. He tosses a blanket onto Miya’s head, earning a muffled squawk, then drops the rest onto Reki and Langa’s futons.
“Alright, lights out soon. Good night kids,” he says, stifling another yawn. He glances at Kaoru, who’s still sitting at the table, swirling the last bit of wine in his glass.
Without a word, Kaoru finishes his drink, stands up, and walks straight into the bedroom, not even sparing the couch or the futons a glance.
Kojiro watches him go, then follows without hesitation, scratching the back of his head as he disappears behind the door.
The kids stare after them, dumbfounded.
“So, they have multiple pictures of them together all over the house.” Miya puts a finger up. “There’s a second toothbrush in the bathroom, and products for Cherry’s hair.” He puts up a second and third one. “There’s stuff on both bedside tables. Cherry has his own clothing here. They traveled the world together.” Six of his fingers are up by now. “And now they’re definitely sharing a bed. Do we need more evidence?”
“It still doesn’t mean anything,” Reki says. “Friends can share a bed.”
“Sure, but what about the other stuff?”
“He’s kinda right, Reki. It definitely sounds like they’re dating,” Langa says. “They do act like an old married couple,” he adds.
“Exactly!” Miya nods triumphantly.
Reki groans louder this time, dragging his blanket over his head. “You guys are impossible.”
“You just hate that you’ll have to buy us ice cream,” Miya says.
Tiramisu trots over and hops up onto Miya’s couch, circling a few times before curling up by his legs. Miya gives the dog a fond scratch behind the ears.
“See? Even the dog agrees.”
Reki sighs from under his blanket. “I don’t wanna talk anymore. Go to sleep.”
Miya chuckles, but as soon as his head hits the couch cushion, the weight of the day settles over him. The steady patter of rain and hail against the window melts into the background, a soft, rhythmic lullaby that pulls him under almost instantly.
***
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Miya stirs. He blinks blearily at the ceiling, groggy and disoriented, before his bladder gives him a sharp reminder of why he woke up in the first place. Grumbling, he peels himself off the couch, careful not to disturb the dog still curled up by his feet and not to wake up his friends. He stumbles toward the bathroom.
The hallway is quiet, the only sound is the faint drip of rain still falling outside. The hail seems to have stopped, at least for now. The bathroom is just across Kojiro’s room, and Miya pauses when he notices that the door is half-open.
He knows he shouldn’t peek inside.
But curiosity is a powerful thing.
So he does.
The room is dim, barely touched by the weak glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains, but he can see enough. Kaoru is curled up against Kojiro’s side, his head resting on Kojiro’s chest, hair spilling over his face. One of Kojiro’s arms is slung loosely around him, holding him close.
It’s weird seeing them like this when he’s so used to them fighting over the littlest things the entire day. They look so peaceful.
He knows it’s wrong, and definitely a little weird, but he has to take a picture. Otherwise the other two—well, mostly Reki—will say he’s inventing things just to win.
The problem is, his camera won’t catch anything in the dim light without the flash.
Miya hesitates, biting his lip. It’s risky. He could get caught.
But the image of Reki’s dumb, shocked face, when he sees the undeniable proof, is way too tempting to pass up.
Before he can second-guess himself, Miya taps the camera icon. A quick burst of light fills the room and his heart leaps into his throat.
Kaoru stirs, mumbling something unintelligible into Kojiro’s chest. Kojiro shifts slightly, but neither of them wakes up.
Miya doesn’t stick around to tempt fate. He bolts into the bathroom, flicks on the light, and shuts the door behind him. He hopes that if either of the adults were to wake up, they might see the light under the door and think that was what woke them from their slumber, not the flash.
After peeing and washing his hands, when everything stays quiet, he slips back into the hallway.
He sneaks past their room like it’s a minefield and makes it back to the couch. The dog lifts her head sleepily, giving him a lazy wag of her tail before curling back up. Miya grins and scoots in closer, letting her warmth seep into his side. She makes a content little sigh, and he scratches behind her ears, feeling the pull of sleep tug at him again.
His phone is still clutched in his hand. He glances at the photo, barely holding back a triumphant laugh.
They look even more couple-y in the picture. Kaoru’s fingers are curled lightly into Kojiro’s shirt, Kojiro’s arm still tucked protectively around him. It’s impossible to misinterpret. He also notices that Pesto is asleep at the feet of the bed.
Miya tucks the phone under his pillow and closes his eyes. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life.
He's getting that free ice cream.
***
When Miya wakes up again, Langa and Reki are still asleep. There’s sound coming from the TV in Kojiro’s room, and the muffled sound of Kaoru’s voice. Tiramisu isn’t on the couch anymore. He realizes that what woke him up must have been the sound of hail, falling hard against the roof like last night. It seems like the weather report was right.
He checks the time on his phone and finds it’s half past seven, and he has a notification from his mother, letting him know she read his text about sleeping over at Reki’s house.
Miya gets up and heads to the bathroom to wash his face and ask the adults if there’s anything he can help with, feeling a bit guilty.
This time, the bedroom door is fully open. Inside, Kojiro is doing push-ups on top of a mat, shirtless, while Kaoru is seated on the bed cross-legged, with his laptop propped up on his legs, and talking on the phone with someone. His hair, despite how much product he applied yesterday, is still messy. It’s clear he hasn’t brushed it yet. Tiramisu and Pesto are both on the bed next to him, and Kaoru is petting one of them.
He makes eye contact with him, and Kaoru nods at him in acknowledgment but keeps talking on the phone.
“Good morning, kiddo,” Kojiro tells him when he exits the bathroom. The man is still shirtless, but has finished working out, and closed the bedroom door behind him.
“Good morning,” Miya answers. He follows him to the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you for letting me stay,” he says. “Did you?”
“The hailing woke me up a bit earlier than usual, but other than that, yeah, I slept like a baby.” He grabs a pan and sets a carton of eggs on the counter.
They chat for a bit as Kojiro cooks until the smell of the food wakes the teenagers up, and brings Kaoru out of the bedroom. His hair is tied in a bun, and his phone is incessantly buzzing in his hand. He goes straight to the kitchen to grab cups from the cupboard and Miya takes the opportunity to follow the teenagers to the bathroom.
“Please don’t scream,” he whispers to them as he unlocks his phone.
“What?” Reki asks, voice coming muffled as he dries his face with a towel.
“I found undeniable proof,” he declares.
Reki rolls his eyes. “Sure you did.”
“You don’t believe me, huh?” The boy smirks. He turns his screen towards them. “What about now?”
It takes them a second to process what they’re seeing, but once they do they have very different reactions.
“Oh,” is all Langa says.
Reki, on the other hand, gasps loudly and Miya has to cover his mouth to stifle a scream.
“Shh!” he reminds him.
Breakfast is an awkward affair. It always kind of is the morning after a sleepover at someone else’s house, when you don’t know what to talk about, or if you should offer help cleaning up or setting the table, but this is entirely different. Kaoru’s phone buzzes from time to time, but he doesn’t pick it up as he eats, instead angrily watching the weather report as if it is the newscaster’s fault that it’ll keep hailing until the afternoon. Kojiro eats in silence as well, wondering if it’s worth it to even open the restaurant and prepare for lunch service. He doesn’t think he’ll have any clients.
The kids are twitchy. They don’t look up from their plates, afraid to make eye contact with anyone, afraid to even utter a single word, as if anything they say or do will expose the secret they found out.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Okay, what is wrong with you three?” Kaoru asks them after a while. “You’re acting weird.”
Reki makes a weird noise. “What do you mean?” he asks in a way that makes him sound even more suspicious.
Miya kicks him under the table. “I’m just sleepy,” he says.
“Yeah, me too,” Langa says, but he sounds so lively that it doesn’t make sense.
Kojiro raises an eyebrow, glancing between the three boys. “Sleepy, huh? Guess the couch was rougher than I thought.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “But that doesn’t explain why this one is so pale.” He points to Reki.
The boy chokes on his food. Langa pats his back, while Miya gives him an exasperated look that clearly says get it together .
“We’re not hiding anything!” he insists, but the way his voice cracks betrays him.
Kaoru’s gaze sharpens. “And yet you’re all acting like you just got caught sneaking out after curfew. What did you do?”
Miya scoffs, crossing his arms. “We didn’t do anything.”
“You sure?” Kaoru squints at him.
The kid licks his lips and keeps looking him in the eye without saying a word, as if they’re involved in a silent discussion.
“We were just wondering if you two were—hmph!” Reki covers Langa’s mouth before he can finish the sentence.
“If we were what?” Kojiro asks.
Miya sighs, giving up. “Dating. We wanted to know if you two are dating.”
The question hangs in the air, heavy and charged. Kojiro’s grin widens, but Kaoru lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What makes you think that?” he asks, cool and measured.
“Everything.” Miya shrugs. “The pictures on the shelf and the fridge, the two toothbrushes in the bathroom, the fancy hair products that definitely aren’t Joe’s, the fact that Cherry has his own section of the closet, how you fight all the time like an old married couple…”
“We are not married,” Kojiro interjects. “ Yet .”
Kaoru clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “You haven’t proposed.”
“Why do I have to be the one to propose? Can’t you?”
“No,” Kaoru deadpans, then he turns to the kids. “We’ve been together since Kojiro came back after culinary school in Italy.”
Reki’s jaw drops. Langa raises his eyebrows, glancing between the two men. Miya pumps his fist in victory.
“HA! I told you!” Miya crows.
“Oh, whatever!” Reki groans, pushing Miya away. “No one cares!”
“I care,” Miya retorts. “That means I won the bet.”
“Bet?” Kaoru asks with a deadly calm.
Miya freezes, glancing back at the adults. “Uh. Did I say bet? I meant…hypothesis.”
“You three were betting on our relationship?” Kojiro says, mock scandalized. He ruffles Miya’s hair until the boy scowls and swats his hand away. “And here I thought you were a polite guest, Miya.”
The boy blushes and crosses his arms. “Well, you shouldn’t have been so obvious if you didn’t want us to find out.”
“I can’t blame them when someone practically has a shrine to us in his shelves for some reason,” Kaoru says.
“It’s not a shrine! I just like the photos!” Kojiro complains. “And may I remind you it was you who gifted me half of the ones on the fridge!”
“But you printed the other half!”
Their bickering lasts so long that they forget to scold the kids for being nosy.