Work Text:
It was stupid. Really stupid.
I mean, come on — agreeing to kiss Amane on a dare? What had she been thinking? Had she lost her mind overnight?
Yashiro peeked around the corner of the wall, stealing a quick glance at him, her heart pounding in her chest. He stood by the vending machine, fiddling with the buttons, a look of deep concentration on his face — far too serious for something as trivial as choosing a drink. Yashiro retreated into her corner, touching up and twisting the ends of her hair — a nervous habit.
She closed her eyes and groaned. Why had she done that? Granted, she had been tipsy, but still…
It was on a Saturday evening. Yashiro and her friends had been hanging out at Kou’s house — it was his birthday and they had agreed to have a party. Nothing too wild, just the kind with snacks, cheap drinks, and loud music buzzing from someone’s phone speaker.
Yashiro wasn’t a lightweight by any means, but maybe it was the atmosphere or the sheer happiness she felt that made everything hazier — and her more daring, or perhaps just stupider, than usual.
She lay sprawled on the floor of Kou’s living room, her cheek resting gently on the palm of her hand as she lazily blinked up at the person towering above her. They were saying something, but Yashiro couldn’t quite catch the words.
“Hmm?” she drawled, tilting her head and squinting. “What… did you say something?”
They sighed and squatted down, and Yashiro could finally make out the figure of the person. “I said , Are you drunk right now? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”
Yashiro blinked and let out a small giggle. “Ohhh, it’s Amane.” She gently patted his cheek.
“No, mmm, I’m not drunk. Just a little tipsy, I think. Hehe.”
She plopped her head back down and let out a contented sigh, “Though a glass of water would be nice. I’m also a little bit hungry — could you maybe get me some snacks?”
He let out a small sigh and ruffled her hair, “Okay, okay, I got it, boss. I’ll head into the kitchen and rummage through Kou’s pantry.” He let out a small smirk. “How quickly do you think it’ll take him to catch me going through their stuff?”
Yashiro closed her eyes and smiled, “Depends on what you’re planning to take from him. Though knowing Kou, he’ll probably follow you around — just because you look so suspicious.”
“Yashiro! Me, suspicious? Perish the thought.”
She scoffed and pushed him lightly, “Yeah, yeah. Just get to it, Amane.”
“Aye, aye boss.”
She watched him head off into the kitchen with a small smile on her face before flopping back down onto the floor.
“Ugh, why can’t you two just get a room?”
Yashiro turned to her side and looked at Mitsuba, who sat close to her, a look of disgust and scorn spread across his face.
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” she blinked, genuinely confused.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, “You. You and Amane. You’re both so gross — and lovey-dovey and lovesick. Makes me want to throw up.”
Yashiro pushed herself up from her position and sat up, a frown settling on her face. “Me and Amane? Lovey-dovey and lovesick?”
“Yeah, you and Amane — don’t play dumb with me. I’m allergic to couples, and watching you two interact gives me the ick.”
“Hold on, you’re literally dating Kou, what are you talking about? Also couple? Amane and I are just friends.”
“That’s beside the point, at least me and Kou aren’t pathetic like you two,” he stuck out his tongue.
Yashiro frowned some more and looked at Aoi and Akane, who were watching quietly nearby. “I don’t get it. Why would you think that? Amane and I don’t act like that at all. Right, Aoi?”
Aoi’s smile softened, but she hesitated before answering. “Well... you two do spend a lot of time together. And you always seem to look out for him.”
Mitsuba scoffed, “Stop trying to cover for her — you like Amane. Everyone knows that.”
Yashiro’s eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly. “Like Amane? I-I don’t! He’s so not my type, and we’re just friends. Nothing more. That’s it!”
She whipped her head back to Aoi, “Aoi, I really don’t like him, and you know this. Tell him!”
Aoi gave her a sheepish smile and looked away.
Yashiro groaned and looked at Akane, “Akane, surely you don’t think there’s anything going on with me and Amane, too… do you?”
He dragged his gaze away from the packet of chips he was holding and looked at her squarely in the eyes. “Honestly? I think you’re too stubborn to admit it, but yeah... there’s definitely something there.”
Yashiro blinked, caught off guard. “What? No way!” She dragged her hands across her face and groaned, “Does everyone think this?”
No one answered.
“Can’t a girl and a guy be friends without people assuming that they like each other now?” She whined. “I mean, Amane and I have been friends for a really long time, but that doesn’t mean we like each other. I mean, this is the 21st century, surely you can’t think like that anymore.”
“Then prove it.”
Yashiro stilled.
“What?”
Mitsuba crossed his arms and raised a brow, “Prove that you’re just friends. Show me that you have no underlying feelings for him — and vice versa.”
Yashiro opened her mouth, then hesitated, taken aback by the sudden challenge thrown to her. “How am I supposed to prove that?” she asked, brow furrowing.
Mitsuba tilted his head, like it was obvious. “Kiss him.”
Yashiro’s face shot up several degrees, “E-excuse me?”
He sighed and then grabbed a drink as if it were more important than the conversation they were having. “I said, kiss him. Prove to me, to us, to everyone out there, that you don’t like each other and are just ‘friends’ by kissing him. I mean, if you don’t have feelings for each other, then it should be easy to do that, right?”
“I can’t possibly kiss him!” Yashiro squeaked out. “We’re just friends.”
“Exactly. Isn’t it easier to kiss someone you have no feelings for? I mean, friends can kiss each other — especially when there’s no awkward feelings involved.”
Yashiro’s cheeks flushed, and she opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.
“Unless…” Mitsuba turned, a mischievous glint shining across his eye. “You really do have feelings for him.”
“I-I…” She turned towards Aoi and Akane for help, but they — conveniently — seemed to be busily inspecting the instructions and the ingredients of the chip packet that Akane had been holding.
“Fine,” she declared.
Mitsuba, Aoi, and Akane turned to look at her — a mixture of surprise and glee spread across their faces.
Yashiro opened her mouth to continue, the words coming out faster than she could stop them. “I’ll prove it — I’ll kiss him. But only to prove I don’t like him! Not because I want to or anything.”
Her mind blared alarmingly, and her cheeks flushed hotter, but she kept talking. “I seriously don’t know why you guys think I like him — I mean that doesn’t even make any sense!”
“What doesn’t make any sense?”
Yashiro froze.
Slowly — painfully — she turned her head to see Amane standing in the doorway, a glass of water in one hand and a half-open snack packet in the other.
His eyes flicked between the others, then settled on her, brows slightly raised in question.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He looked down at the snack packet he was holding and put his hands up defensively. “I asked! I didn’t just steal it, you know?”
“You mean you got caught?” Kou yelled out from somewhere behind him.
He coughed awkwardly, “No need to get into specifics here.”
Amane looked back up, his gaze landing on Yashiro’s face. He walked over, concern furrowed into his brow. “Are you okay? You’re really red — are you sure you’re not drunk?” He placed a hand on her forehead and leaned in closer.
Yashiro yelped in response and jerked away from his hand, dragging her face out of reach like she’d touched a hot stove.
The others looked at her questioningly. Mitsuba raised an eyebrow. Akane stopped mid-chew. Aoi’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“Cold!” she squeaked out. Her heart was thumping like crazy. “Y-your hands were cold and I just got surprised.”
“O…kay?” he muttered, looking at his hands closely.
Yashiro closed her eyes and groaned inwardly — this was all because of what they’d been saying. Mitsuba and his stupid challenge. Akane and Aoi not backing her up. Now she was flinching at a forehead check . How was she supposed to act normal now?
Aoi let out a small giggle, “She’s fine — she’s probably just had one too many drinks.”
Amane frowned at Yashiro. “See, I told you to stop, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I’m not dru— You know what? It’s fine, sure.”
He handed her the glass of water and ruffled her hair again, “This is why you need me around. I mean, who else could keep you in check if not me?”
“Y-yeah right…” she muttered quietly, lifting the drink to her lips. She stole a glance at Mitsuba, who smirked at her and mouthed: k-i-s-s .
Yashiro nearly choked on her water.
And that was the end of that conversation. Somehow, mercifully, they’d moved on.
But even now…back in the present, Yashiro couldn’t help but feel the mortification rising within her. Yashiro groaned.
Why, why, why? She’d asked herself this question over and over again: why did she agree to do it?
She wasn’t even drunk — just stupidly prideful .
Some part of her had wanted to prove a point, to show Mitsuba she didn’t like Amane.
I mean, that much was obvious... right?
So then why had it felt so important to prove it?
Yashiro dragged a hand down her face and exhaled. She peeked out of the corner again, scanning the vending machine to look at Amane.
Except—
He was gone.
He wasn’t there anymore.
Yashiro furrowed her brows. Where did he go? She’d barely looked away and suddenly—
“Who are we looking for?”
Yashiro yelped , spinning around so fast she nearly lost her balance.
And there he was.
Amane stood behind her, one hand casually shoved into that grey NASA hoodie that he loved so much, and the other holding a small can of soda, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“DON’T sneak up on people like that!” Yashiro snapped, her hand tightly clutching at her racing chest.
Amane raised a brow, “Looks to me like you’re the one sneaking up on people. What are you doing — lurking behind here?”
“I was not lurking. I was just resting…and taking some time to think.”
“I didn’t know resting and taking some time to think required you to hide behind the corner and peek your head out at people.” He crossed his arms over his chest like a shield and gasped dramatically. “I can’t believe Yashiro could be so naughty like this.”
Yashiro’s face flushed, and she turned on her heels, “You know what, it's impossible to talk to you when you’re like this, I’m going to leave.”
He grabbed her wrist to stop her and smiled, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll stop teasing you.”
Yashiro huffed but stayed put.
He looked down at his drink and busied himself opening it. “So…what were you doing?”
Yashiro followed his gaze and watched him as he lifted it up to his lips to drink it, Calpis Soda — perfect for summer.
“I-I was…” Her voice trailed off as the rim of the can touched his lips. They were a little cracked—a result of the heat—and had a faint pink hue. She felt a strange daze wash over her, and, against her own will, she imagined reaching out to touch them.
Mitsuba’s voice echoed in her mind, sharp and clear: Kiss him.
He set the can down and wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. Yashiro kept her eyes fixed on him, swallowing hard.
Amane looked at her and tilted his head, “Sorry, I didn’t quite hear you there. What did you say?”
“...iss.”
He frowned and took a step closer to her, his hand cupping his ear. “Huh? Iss? What are you saying?”
And just like that, Yashiro snapped out of her dazed state. She shook her head furiously and waved her arms around, “N-no! Not kiss…uh… miss! I’m going to be late and miss my class!”
She turned her wrist around to look at her watch, “S-see! It’s almost 1 o’clock. I’m going to be late for one of my lectures and miss it if I don’t start heading out here.”
Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heels, waving her arms frantically. “Well, bye, gotta go, it was nice catching up with you seeyoulater!”
“W-wait, but it’s Wednesday, you don’t have—” he called out weakly.
He stared at her figure running off into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck, “Classes…”
Yashiro didn’t stop running until she rounded the nearest corner — and even then, her heart didn’t slow down. She clutched at her shirt and tried to steady her rapid breathing. She didn’t know what had gotten into her.
She was acting weird, and even she knew it — why had she been drawn to him like that? Was she seriously thinking of— No! This whole thing was Mitsuba’s fault. She would never, not in a million years, even think about Amane like that.
She was just thinking of the stupid dare that was all.
Yashiro leaned against a wall and let out an exhausted sigh. Her head thunked softly against the concrete.
This was so stupid.
Why was she like this? Why was her heart still racing? Why had she nearly blurted out kiss like an idiot?
“This is fine. Totally,” she muttered to herself. “It's no big deal. I don’t even know why I’m stressing out like this.”
She let out a short, abrupt laugh, “I mean, this is Amane that we’re talking about, not Minamoto senpai or Fuji-kun. He’s so not my type, and I definitely don’t have feelings for him. Kissing him should be a breeze.”
“Y-yeah, just a small peck on the lips.” Yashiro placed her hands on her hips and nodded firmly. “I’ll just tell him afterwards and laugh about it. He’ll understand. He has to understand.”
“And then,” she continued, pointing an accusatory finger at the thin air. “We’ll march right over to Mitsuba and prove him so wrong.”
Her voice wavered on the last word, but she ignored it and cleared her throat.
“Yeah, I can do this. I mean, how hard could it possibly be?”
—
As Yashiro would soon find out for herself… it was very hard.
Five days.
It had been five days since Mitsuba had goaded her into accepting that stupid challenge, and she still hadn’t completed it.
It wasn’t for lack of trying — if anything, Yashiro’s attempt to kiss her best friend on the lips could hardly be brushed off as insignificant. However, every time she psyched herself up to do it, her courage flew away.
Her first attempt ended with Yashiro muttering something about crumbs on his lips. The second time, she froze halfway, claiming she had just spotted something in the distance. Time and time again, she found herself leaning forward—only to pull away at the very last second. The number of excuses she could give herself was running out, and Yashiro knew it was only a matter of time before Amane started to notice something was up.
Each day, the weight of the challenge pressed down harder — and Mitsuba didn’t make it easier, texting her daily with impatient “Have you done it yet?” messages.
Ping!
Speaking of…
Yashiro groaned and opened the notification that passed through: Tell me you’ve actually done it already, Or are you just too scared because you actually like him?
She could practically see the smug look on his face as she read the text, and she glared at the screen as if her annoyance and irritation could be transmitted virtually. She shoved the phone in her bag with a huff and stood up straight.
Today, she was having lunch with Amane. And she decided, today was the day.
No more excuses. No more backing out.
She was just going to do it, a small peck on the lips — one that you could hardly call a kiss.
Yashiro walked to the small spot by the riverbank — their little secret spot away from the noise and crowds. A small breeze brushed through the tall grass, and Yashiro spotted Amane sitting by the edge of the willow tree, his back leaning against the dark trunk as he wrote in his notebook — probably notes from one of his classes.
She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head and taking a step towards him.
Amane looked up as he heard her making her way over to him, and he gave her a small wave. He rummaged through his bag and laid out a small towel next to him.
“Right on time,” he smiled, patting the space next to him.
Yashiro smiled and sat down next to him — she grabbed out two small lunchboxes from her bag and handed one to him.
He grinned and grabbed it eagerly, “Man, I am so glad that you know how to cook.”
“Well, one of us has to make sure we’re eating properly, and it certainly isn’t you. Mister-I-live-through-caffeine-and-caffeine-alone.”
Amane took a spoonful of rice and muttered, “Hey, abshulootely nuffing wrong wizj livin on caffheen.”
Yashiro looked at him unimpressed, “Do you have an early death wish?”
He grinned and swallowed the food in his mouth, “I’m just saying — if I had to choose only three things to bring with me on a deserted island, coffee would be one of them.”
“Oh yeah, and what would be the other two?”
“Hmm,” Amane closed his eyes thoughtfully. “Maybe my telescope? I bet the sky on a deserted island would be clearer than the ones here — think about all the planets and stars I could finally see from there.”
“And the third thing?”
Amane turned his head and took a quick glance at her before looking away, “Not sure, I’ll have to sleep over it first. I mean, there’s just soo much I could bring with me, you know? Like my limited edition NASA space mug — the one that shows the Pleiades when you put hot water on it.”
She looked at him with a deadpan expression on her face, “You would bring your mug with you. To a deserted island.”
“Y-yeah,” he didn’t look at her. “I mean, how else am I going to drink my coffee?”
She rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder lightly, “You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”
“Excuse you, when have I ever been known to not take things seriously? My answers are valid, thank you very much.”
“Right. Because being serious means choosing to bring your coffee, telescope, and mug with you to a deserted island.”
His eyes flickered to her face for a second before he cleared his throat and gave out a small grin, “Yeah, I mean, what else does a man need?”
“Maybe we should redefine what ‘man’ means here. How about an immature space-obsessed nerd, instead?”
He let out a dramatic gasp, “Oh, you wound me. How could you be so cruel?”
Yashiro didn’t respond — she just gave him a look . And it was all he needed to break out into laughter.
The sound of it — light, easy — made something flutter in her chest.
She looked away quickly and dug into her lunch. Her heart quietly thumping against her chest.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the soft clinking of chopsticks against lunchboxes and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Amane glanced up from his food and caught Yashiro watching him.
“Are you finished eating already?”
Yashiro blinked and shook her head slowly, “No, yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”
“Thinking, huh?” he hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t have too much of that happening here, that sounds dangerous.”
Yashiro rolled her eyes but smiled softly to herself. Friends. That’s what they were. And that thought only made her more certain — she could do this. They would both walk away from this just like any other day, because that’s how secure their friendship was.
“Hey, Amane,” she spoke up quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Yeah?”
Yashiro took a deep breath and continued, “T-there’s something I need to do. A-and you have to promise me to let me explain myself first, okay?”
He looked at her warily, “You’re making me nervous. Did you murder someone? Whose body do I need to hide?”
“What, no!” she whipped her head to look at him. “It’s not that type of thing.”
“Oh good,” Amane let out a sigh of relief. “I was getting worried about how we could do it without being caught.”
“You mean you would help me— ugh, whatever this is beside the point right now.”
Amane grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, I’m listening. What’s this mysterious thing you need to do?”
Yashiro looked down and twiddled her fingers together, “Y-you see a few days ago…”
“Mhmm.”
“Actually,” Yashiro looked up, possessed by a sudden burst of confidence, and stared him directly in the eyes. “It would probably be best if I just did it instead of explaining.”
He tilted his head and looked at her questioningly, “What are you—MMPF!”
Before Amane could finish his question, Yashiro shut her eyes tight, grabbed Amane’s head in her hands, and leaned in to press her lips against his.
Amane’s eyes widened with surprise, and for a second, all he could register was the sensation — the awkward angle, the unexpected warmth, and her slightly shaky grip on his jaw.
Her nose bumped into his cheek. Her chin bumped against his. And one of her knees was pressing heavily down his thigh.
It was messy, chaotic, and all over the place. Amane had had his share of kisses before, and he could confidently say that this wasn’t one of the good ones.
And yet…it was the only one that left him quite so breathless.
Then almost instinctively, his body relaxed and he turned to lean into it—
Only for Yashiro to pull back quickly, cheeks burning like the hot summer sun above them, eyes wide, trembly, and dazed.
“There. I did it. All done,” she gasped out, her voice high and shaky. “Absolutely nothing to it.”
For a second, no one said anything.
“All done? Nothing to it?” Amane blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “Y-you… you just kissed me.”
“W-well I wouldn’t exactly call that a kiss, I mean more of a peck o-or just lips that happened to collide against each other,” Yashiro muttered, fiddling with her hands while avoiding his eyes.
“Right. So your lips just happened to collide with mine. On accident.” Amane blinked. “Like slipping on a banana peel, but with your face.”
“Y-yes! I mean no, I mean—ugh,” Yashiro groaned. “It wasn’t exactly an accident accident.”
“So it was a premeditated attack.”
“No!” Yashiro yelled and looked up. “It was a dare, okay? T-to prove that I don’t like you. Because, because f-friends can kiss each other and not—” She paused, staring at his face.
His face was bright red — cheeks flushed like he’d just run a marathon or gotten caught sneaking cookies. His eyes suddenly darted away, avoiding hers, and he brought his hand up to cover the lower part of his face.
Yashiro blinked. Her brain, which had just moments ago been working overtime trying to justify the kiss, slowed to a crawl. Her eyes fluttered rapidly as she stared back at him, caught somewhere between shock and something…warmer.
Was he always this cute when he was embarrassed? Had his eyes always been that golden? And... and why did his lips look—
Her eyes flicked to them. Slightly parted. Pink. Still close.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
She looked away, but the image stayed. Her heart thudded unhelpfully in her chest.
“To prove that you don’t what?” Amane asked slowly, his brows knitting together.
“That I don’t…” Yashiro started, voice trailing as her thoughts scattered around her mind. “That…um…don’t like…oh.”
Suddenly she blinked. Once. Twice.
“Oh. Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no.”
Amane leaned forward, looking increasingly confused. “Yashiro, you’re not making any sense.”
“No, no, no. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean it was nothing,” she muttered to herself. “There was absolutely nothing to it. Maybe, I’m just confused or-or… or something!”
She placed her hand on her chin and nodded to herself, “Yeah, that’s gotta be it. It was probably just a fluke or just me being confused because there’s no way that I— Yeah, yeah, I mean I haven’t been sleeping right lately, so I’m probably just tired or having a weird brain glitch. Like when your computer breaks down.”
Amane stared, “...Computers?”
Yashiro looked back at him, her brain spiralling in all directions. “Yeah! Computer glitches! Like, I bet that if I tried that again, then—”
“Tried what again?” Amane yelped, his voice rising in alarm.
Yashiro didn’t reply. She just stared at him wide-eyed and wildly.
Amane blinked.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered a nature documentary.
The one where the lion had its eyes locked on a panicked gazelle.
At this moment, he knew exactly how the gazelle was feeling.
“Y-yashiro, what are you planning to do…” he stammered, his eyes darting rapidly around him.
“Just…” she muttered quietly, edging closer to him once again. “Just hold on. I-I need to confirm something for myself…”
Her hands reached out, cradling his face again — a little less shakily this time. Amane froze; he sat still, unable to move as he watched her leaning in closer. Then, on instinct, his eyes fluttered shut, and her lips met his.
This time, it was slower. Softer. More deliberate.
It wasn’t perfect by any means, but there were no bumping noses. No rushed movements. No awkward angles.
It was just a second. Maybe two. But it felt like forever.
When Yashiro pulled away, they both sat frozen, red-faced and breathless.
The world felt quiet for a beat. Just the sound of the breeze in the leaves, and the soft, lazy chirping of birds high in the trees.
Then the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of Yashiro groaning and flopping face-first onto the towel.
“Ughh,” Yashiro groaned, her voice muffled by her hands, which covered her face. “It wasn’t a glitch.”
Amane sat there, stunned, unable to process exactly what was happening. He stared at the figure next to him, who was groaning with mortification, and opened his mouth to say something before hesitating.
He cleared his throat and attempted to talk normally, as though his face weren’t a deep rouge. “Yashiro…could you care to explain exactly what all that was about?”
“...a dare,” Yashiro muttered.
She groaned again and refused to look up. “Mitsuba dared me to kiss you. To prove that I didn’t have feelings or whatever.”
There was a pause.
“And so…did it work?” he asked quietly.
Yashiro groaned even louder and squirmed around, “Obviously not! Are you acting dense? I thought that much was clear already.”
“This is so stupid, Mitsuba’s going to have a field day with this one, knowing that he was right and that I was just a stupid idiot.”
“Yashiro.”
“I mean, what was I even thinking? Kissing your friend to prove that you don’t like each other? Who does that? ”
“Yashiro.”
“He tricked me! He tricked me and I fell for it,” she continued rambling.
“Yashiro!” Amane spoke up louder.
Suddenly, she stopped ranting and went silent. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.
She’d just said it.
Not on purpose. Not gracefully. Not even in full sentences.
But she’d said it.
Yashiro’s breath caught. She couldn’t look up. What if he hated her now? What if she’d just ruined everything?
The silence stretched.
Then softly — barely above a whisper —
“Yashiro, can you look at me?” Amane asked.
The tips of her ears flushed, and the grip on her face tightened. She shook her head and replied, “Nuh-uh. Don’t want to.”
“Why not?” he pressed gently.
“Because,” she muttered into her palms. “Because I’m just so embarrassed. And I don’t want you to see me or look at me right now. In fact, can we just forget about this whole ordeal and start all over again?”
There was a pause, and for a second, Yashiro thought that he had given up trying to coax her out. Until suddenly, she felt a small, soft press against the back of her hand.
Her breath hitched.
It was barely a second, and if she hadn’t been so aware of everything, she might have even missed it. But she didn’t. And Yashiro’s fingers curled tighter around her face.
“Will you look at me now?” he murmured.
Slowly. Hesitantly. Yashiro peeked out from between her fingers.
She blinked, taken aback by how close Amane was. He sat there, his face a few inches away from hers, his amber eyes shaking nervously. His cheeks were a bright red, and Yashiro absentmindedly brought her fingers up to touch them — they reminded her of strawberries, summer, and the sun.
He gave a small shiver as she stroked his cheek, and Yashiro watched with a dazed look in her eyes as they reddened even further.
“Yashiro, I—” he started, but stopped himself. Then, without another word, he pressed a small kiss on her forehead.
“I don’t want to forget about this ‘whole ordeal’.”
Her breath hitched, and she stayed completely still, heart thudding loud enough she was sure he could hear it.
Then Amane leaned in again, gently brushing his lips against the tip of her nose.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back,” he gave a small smile and tilted his head. “Who would’ve guessed that this — all of this — would happen because you were trying to prove that you didn’t like me.”
He pinched her cheeks lightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “Classic Yashiro.”
Yashiro didn’t say anything. She only stared at him, her eyes wide in awe. She didn’t get it.
Is he saying… that he liked her back all this time?
Amane laughed softly, reading her expression. “Yeah, I like you. For a long time now.”
Her mouth parted slightly as her brain caught up with the information. For a second, his eyes flickered toward her lips, and a soft, teasing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Yashiro’s heart hammered faster, cheeks warming again. She swallowed hard, caught between disbelief and a rush of hope. She couldn’t believe it — after all this time of whining about finding love and the perfect guy, he was right here, right under her nose.
Her hand snaked up to the back of his neck. His eyes widened for a moment, ears flushing a soft pink, before he gave her a lopsided smile. He leaned in closer, stopping a few inches before her face.
“So…” she whispered, her voice barely coming out. “You…really like me?”
He placed a soft hand on her cheek and leaned in closer. Yashiro’s eyes fluttered shut, and her breath caught as his lips pressed against hers again — for the third time.
The world seemed to still. In that moment, the only things Yashiro could register were the softness of his lips, the faint warmth of the sun shimmering above them, and the gentle brush of grass against her skin.
“Nene,” he whispered against her mouth. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her first name on his lips. “I adore you.”
“Oh.” she whispered, her voice small but sure. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
They stayed like that for a while — wrapped in sun and silence and the quiet, steady rhythm of their hearts. Their hands remained lightly intertwined, and Amane eventually flopped down next to her on the towel, a grin plastered across his face.
“I still can’t believe you had to kiss me twice just to figure out you liked me.”
Yashiro yelped and turned toward him. “Don’t make fun of me, okay? I was having a crisis. ”
“Yeah, I could tell,” he said, voice teasing. “You really scared me out there, y’know? Grabbing my face and just — bam — attacking me with your lips.”
“I told you it wasn’t an attack!” she cried, her face flaming red again.
Amane laughed. “I don’t know, Yashiro. It felt pretty aggressive. I thought that I was going to be hunted back there. I didn’t know that you wanted me like that. You’re so n— YOUCH!”
“Not. Another word,” she huffed. “Unless you want me to throw you in the river.”
He turned towards her and leaned his head against the palm of his hand. “Will you kiss me better afterwards?”
“You’re impossible, you know?”
“Yeah,” he gave a small smile, flopping back down on his head. “But I’m yours.”
Yashiro flushed slightly and gave him a fond sigh before inching closer to him, “Unfortunately, so.”
They sat there again, contemplating the gentle breeze and the soft swaying of the willow trees above them.
“I should thank Mitsuba for that bet thing, by the way,” Amane spoke up, thoughtfully.
Yashiro widened her eyes, “Don’t you dare. He’s going to gloat so badly, and I’ll never hear the end of it from him. I don’t know how much of that I can hear without going insane.”
Amane snorted. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”
Then Amane nudged her elbow. “Why don’t we just show up in front of them holding hands on the way and grossing everyone out?”
Yashiro blinked. Then grinned. “You mean like a disgusting couple?”
“The worst kind,” he said proudly.
“Hmm. Maybe we should swing our arms dramatically like kindergarteners.”
“And wear matching couple outfits whenever we have to see him.”
She reached for his hand again, lacing her fingers through his.
“Ooh, he’d hate that. Let’s do it.”
They burst out in laughter and giggles, their shoulders shaking as the warmth of the moment settled between them.