Archive of Our Own

Souta was on his way down the hallway, peering up the stairs as he got to them. He checked the letter in his hands again, as if it was likely to change if he didn’t make sure it was still the same at least a couple more times. He made his way up to the first floor, took a left turn, then another left turn, then a right. 

Am I lost? 

As he started down what felt like the millionth corridor, he came to a door with a sign that read “Music club practice” written in neat handwriting on a piece of paper that was taped to the door.

I’m lost…

From inside the room he could hear faint music, the strumming of a guitar and a rhythmic tapping. Souta looked down at the letter once again, cursing it silently in his head. He suddenly felt angry at his past self for not paying attention when he was first shown around the school, and even more angry that he’d asked Keisuke for directions which proved to be absolutely useless. 

Souta looked around at the few other doors on the corridor. He made his way over to one of them, putting his ear to it and listening closely. Silent. He gave the sliding door a quick tug, but it didn’t move an inch. He continued to the next door repeating the process a few more times. Finally admitting defeat, and with a sigh, he marched towards the first door he had come across. 

Screw it. Sorry music club, I know you’re busy but so am I.

As he approached the door, he could make out three voices, one guy and two girls, none of which he recognised. He sheepishly approached the door, as if the people inside could see him through it, and gave it a small knock. The music continued. He knocked slightly harder, this time speaking up.

“Hello..? Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to—”

The music clicked off and the door slid open, slamming hard as it reached the other side of the frame. In front of him stood a boy that he didn’t know, at least he didn’t think he knew him. He had thick, black hair, dark eyes and a sour expression. 

“What,” he barked, one hand holding onto the door frame and one onto the door itself, almost as if to block entry to the room.

“Hi..!” Souta said, suddenly forgetting what he was doing here in the first place. Oh yeah! “Sorry to bother you guys, I was just wondering if you knew where 3-C is?”

The boy scanned Souta, looking him up and down. “You’re a third year, right? How do you not know where that is?”

“Oh.. well…” Souta mumbled. This guy's an asshole. “Nevermind....” Souta trailed off as he tried to peek past to see into the club room. Since he had only ever been a part of the soccer club, and they didn’t have a traditional club room, he had always wondered what they looked like.

The boy shifted to the left, blocking Souta’s view. “I thought you were looking for 3-C,” he said with a completely flat expression. “You’re not gonna find it in here.” He let out a small sniffle, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Souta scoffed, folding his arms. Looking at him, Souta suddenly remembered where he knew him from. “Wait, I recognise you… you’re the guy who played guitar in that school band last year…” 

A slight flush spread across the boy’s cheeks. “What? No I’m not.” He quickly folded his arms as he spoke. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

“No... It was definitely you.” Souta knew for sure, even though he had stood near the back of the stage in the shadows, Souta couldn’t help but watch him. “You were really good.” Shame about your attitude, though. He paused, thinking for a moment. “...What was your name again?”

“Iseya. Now leave me alone.” And with that, he slid the door closed with a mighty bang and turned the music up to full volume, then shifted it back down again slightly. Souta let out an exasperated laugh. What a weird guy.

Souta continued on his very important search, making his way down a few more corridors. He checked the time on his phone and sped down the hallway. I know it has to be around here somewhe— Just as he began to lose hope, he spotted a sign jutting out of the wall. 3-C . He looked down the corridor and noticed the stairs that he had just taken a few minutes ago to get to this floor, then spun around to see the corridor he had just come from. Are you kidding me right now? He groaned, head held low as he realised he had just done a full circle and come back on himself. He could have just come down this corridor straight from the stairs if he had paid attention.

He shook his head and braced himself. Marching his way over to the door, he felt giddy. My first ever confession… He held onto the letter in his pocket, and quietly slid the door open.

“Hello…?” Souta stepped into the room, it was completely silent. The orange sky lit up the classroom, the tables casting dark shadows onto the floor. He peeked around the room, trying to see any sign of life. The only thing that was out of place was a small messenger bag on a table close to the door. It looked a tiny bit scruffy, with a scuff on the corner and a small splotch of blue ink on the strap. Maybe this is hers… He quietly crept up to it, unclasping the buckle and peering inside. Before he could get a good look, he heard a voice behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

With a yelp, Souta shot up like he had just been electrocuted. He spun around and saw the boy from earlier standing in the doorway with a disgusted look plastered across his face.

“Are you some kind of weirdo..?” he said, scowling at Souta, his top lip curled slightly.

“A.. what? No! I didn’t know this was yours, I thought—” Souta scrambled for an explanation that didn’t look like he was the sad guy who just got stood up, or some kind of bag pervert. 

“Thought what? Thought you’d snoop through my stuff after you’d just finished bothering me at my—”

“No!” Souta cut in, his face flushed from embarrassment and frustration. “Just let me TALK, would you??” Souta puffed, his hands curled into fists at his side. This is so fucking embarrassing… “I… I was supposed to meet someone here but she’s not here. I thought this might be her bag, so…” 

“... Right.” Iseya scoffed. Then, after watching Souta squirming from embarrassment in front of him for a few moments he spoke again. “Right, okay. Fine, I believe you. That’s my bag, though. I’m gonna get it and go home, don’t… follow me, or something. Okay?”

“Why would I??” Souta snapped back, barging his way past Iseya as he exited the room. Figuring the girl who gave him the letter must have already gone home, Souta made his way back to his own classroom on the floor below. He sighed as he slid open the door.

“How did it go with Tamura-san?” Keisuke was sitting on his desk, peering up from the textbook he was reading as he waited for Souta.

“It didn’t,” Souta said with a sigh, grabbing his bag from his desk and slipping it into his shoulder. “She wasn’t there.”

“Oh…” Keisuke gave Souta a smirk. “Well, you did insist on going to the toilet twice before you headed up there.” He closed his textbook, slipping it into his bag as he stood up from the desk. “You were gone for so long, what happened?”

“I got nervous,” Souta muttered. “Wait, no, I got lost! I couldn’t find the classroom, I ended up asking some rude guy from the music club where the room was and he was absolutely no help.”

“You mean Iseya?” Keisuke said, raising an eyebrow.

“How did you—”

“He’s literally the only guy in that club, Souta.” Keisuke let out a small laugh as the two of them came to the door. “You insisted we saw their band perform last year, you should know that.”

“Yeah, I thought he was cool.” Souta rolled his eyes, sliding the door open. “Well, not anymore I guess,” he muttered.

He stepped out into the corridor just as Iseya brushed past them, headphones on, holding his bag tightly with a slight frown.

“Speak of the devil.” Keisuke laughed when he knew Iseya was out of earshot.

“What if he heard me?” Souta turned to Keisuke with pleading eyes. 

Keisuke laughed even harder. “You’re such a wimp, stop it. There’s no way he heard you, anyway.”

The two continued chatting as they walked down to the entrance. Keisuke asked what Souta was going to do about the confession. Souta said he would try and find the girl during lunch tomorrow, groaning when he realised that Iseya would probably be there. They said their goodbyes, and parted ways to walk home.

*

The next day at lunch, Souta headed over to class 3-C in hopes of being able to find Tamura, the girl who had written him the confession letter. He just hoped that Iseya wasn't there. As he got to the door, he made one final wish, and slid it open. The room was mostly empty, except for a few girls who were gathered around one of the tables, and they all looked at him in surprise.

“Hello..” he said, sheepishly. “I’m looking for Tamura-san… Do you know where she is?

The three girls giggled, and beckoned him closer. “Sorry, she’s not here today, I think she’s sick. You’re Ueshima-kun right?” one of the girls asked, and Souta nodded, beginning to feel a little shy. “I think she’s pretty good friends with a couple of people from the music club, though, so they’ll probably know how she is. Maybe you could ask for her number?”

Great, I guess I have to go back to that club room again.

The bell rang in the hallway, signifying the start of the school day. He thanked the girls and began heading back to his own classroom. He didn’t want to have to face Iseya again, but hopefully he wouldn’t be there after school today. Why do I keep thinking about that jerk every ten seconds? He shook the thought out of his head, and continued walking. 

The day went by in a flash, and before Souta knew it the bell had already rung for the end of the day. He hopped out of his chair and headed for the door, leaving his bag on his desk.

“Where are you going?” Keisuke called after him as he packed his books away into his bag.

Souta half spun around to yell over his shoulder, “Just wait for me here, I won’t be long!”

Souta slowly walked up to the music club, pressing his ear against the door to try and hear any movement inside before quietly knocking. 

“Hello…?” Souta called out. This feels… a little too familiar.

A quiet thunk , then silence again. After a few moments, the door quickly slid open, and Iseya stood at the doorway again, folding his arms. Souta’s friendly expression instantly fell as he looked up and made eye contact with him. It even pisses me off that I have to look up at him. He paused, wondering why he let Iseya annoy him so much. 

“Who else is in there?” Souta asked, trying again to peek through into the room, this time Iseya did not stop him.

“Nobody… I usually practice on my own…” Iseya frowned.

“Huh? I thought there were a couple of girls here last time?” Souta said incredulously. 

“Nope, just me,” Iseya retorted, his face settling into an embarrassed frown as he continued. Souta had no idea what he had to be embarrassed about, but he was a hard guy to understand. “You must have been hearing things.”

“No, I swear…” Souta trailed off, beginning to doubt his own memory. “Well, whatever. I’m not here to talk to you, anyway. Someone told me that someone in your club is friends with Tamura-san?”

“Huh?” Iseya watched Souta with a furrowed brow.

Why is he so pissed off? Souta thought to himself, but the look Iseya had was actually his thinking face, not that Souta would know that yet.

“Hm, I don’t know her,” Iseya finally managed after some thought. “I think Imai and Chiba know her, though.”

Noticing Souta’s puzzled look, he spoke up again. “They’re the girls in the club with me…” he clarified. “They only come here a few times a week, or at lunch time, though.”

“Ah, right… Okay, well maybe I’ll come back tomorrow. I heard Tamura-san is sick so I doubt she’ll be in school soon…” Souta felt like his luck had totally run out. Why did he have to get a confession from a girl who went home before he could even give her a reply, then she got sick the next day?

“Why are you looking for her, anyway?”

Souta suddenly remembered that not everyone could read his mind like Keisuke could, and he had just exposed way more about himself than he meant to. “None of your business,” he responded, then made another realisation that he was taking his frustrations out on this guy he barely knew. “Sorry, I mean… It’s… None of your business…” He frowned at himself. That’s not what I wanted to say. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally managed, excusing himself and walking back down the hall, passing two girls as they made their way up the opposite way.

* 

The next day, for the third day in a row, Souta made his way to the music club room. People are going to think I’m obsessed or something… He stopped in his tracks. What if everyone thinks I’m going to the toilet for 20 minutes every break..? Souta grumbled to himself as he approached the door, but stopped just as his hand reached the handle as he heard multiple voices inside. He strained to listen to their conversation.

“That girl applied to the club again, but I told her we already have a singer. She keeps insisting we can have two singers but I’m just not buying it.” A girl sighed, Souta could hear her tapping her pen on the table.

“You mean Arashi-san?” another girl chirped, and the other girl added a small hum in agreement. “She definitely has a thing for Nao-kun.” The second girl giggled. The other girl scoffed. Souta could hear a pen scratching on paper as they spoke.

“Shut up, Imai.” Souta jumped slightly at hearing Iseya’s voice. He heard him shift in his seat. “She just likes music, it’s not like that.” He heard one of the girls let out a small giggle, and Iseya continued, “Even if— even if she did, I'm not interested.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know Nao-kun. You’re too obsessed with your rival to worry about things like love.” The first girl sighed, and Souta could hear her push her seat out as she spoke.

“Obsessed?? What are you—” Iseya spluttered.

“C’moooon, you know it’s true,” the second girl piped up.

“Stop poking me.” Iseya sighed as he mumbled a few choice words that Souta couldn’t quite make out.

Noticing a lull in the conversation, Souta saw his chance to knock on the door, feeling like a creep just stood outside listening in on their conversation. Just the thought of someone seeing him standing there made his skin crawl.

Knocking on the door, he opened his mouth to speak but before he could, the door slammed open and in front of him stood a smaller girl with mousy brown hair, a huge grin spread across her face.

“Hello!!” she yelled out. “I mean, Welcome! we don’t get many visitors, who might you be?” she asked, and without giving Souta any time to reply, she continued. “Wait, are you Nao-kun's new friend??”

Friend? Souta could only stand and stare, unsure of what to say.

“Stop saying stupid things, Imai.” Iseya slipped his headphones onto his ears as he grabbed his guitar case from the corner of the room next to where he sat. Unzipping the case, he began humming quietly along with the song that was now playing in his headphones. He tapped his foot along with the music, and scribbled down a few notes as he sat.  

So that’s Imai-san.

“Errrm.” Souta let out an awkward laugh. “I’m actually looking for you, I think?” he said to the girl standing in front of him, Imai-san. He ruffed the back of his hair with his hand as he spoke.

“A confession!?” The other girl in the room piped up with an over-dramatic gasp, startling Souta, who had almost forgotten she was there.

She must be Chiba-san.

“What— No, No I…!” His face felt hot. 

“Relax, I’m kidding. You’re the Ueshima that Tamura-chan confessed to recently, right?” 

Souta noticed Iseya had quietly slipped one of his headphones off his ear as they spoke, but was still concentrating on writing notes down in his notebook.

“I mean... I guess.” Although she didn’t actually get a chance to confess, since I have the worst luck in the world.

“You’re way too unlucky.” Chiba laughed. “Who misses their confession by fifteen minutes, then their would-be-girlfriend calls out sick for the rest of the week.”

Souta awkwardly squirmed on the spot. He couldn’t deny what she said because it was totally true, but hearing someone else say it made him feel even more awkward about the whole thing. “I guess so...” he said, letting out a dry laugh.

“Well, I can text her to tell her you’ve been asking about her. Or do you want her number?”

“Hmm, I feel like it would be better to talk in person.” Souta shrugged. He was starting to feel a little guilty, like he was dragging this out for way longer than it needed to, he didn’t even know what he was going to say to her when they finally saw each other after this whole ordeal. “I guess you can let her know I got her letter, at least…”

*

Souta decided that today was the day he actually made some progress with this confession of his- even if Tamura wasn't in school. Maybe he could get her number and arrange something, at least that's what he thought.

Souta arrived at the club room and had his usual battle with Iseya to get through the door. After explaining that he was waiting for either Chiba or Imai to get back so he could get Tamura’s phone number, Iseya finally backed down. The pair sat at opposite ends of the table from each other, Iseya working on his maths homework and Souta twiddling his thumbs.

After a few moments of Souta trying to find the courage to speak up, he finally managed it. “Soo…” he said, as nonchalantly as possible. “Is that… the quadratic equations homework…?”

Iseya looked up from his work, glancing at Souta for a moment, then looked back down again. “Yup.” 

“Do youuuu…” Souta twiddled his thumbs again, looking around the room as he spoke. “Do you mind if I have a look at your workings? I suck at those questions.” 

Iseya paused in his writing again, tapping his pen on the paper. “I'm not letting you copy me,” he said without looking at Souta.

“No, no, I don't want to copy, the questions are probably different anyway!! I just don't get how to…” he trailed off, feeling a little disheartened. “Nevermind, it's alright. Sorry.” 

Iseya sighed, putting his pen down and pulling out the chair next to his. “Come over here, show me your homework,” he mumbled. Souta felt his phone buzz in his pocket, but ignored it.

Souta sprang up, feeling a little too excited about doing math homework. He took the seat next to Iseya and grabbed his homework out of his bag. Iseya read it over, his frown, along with Souta's anxiety, growing more intense as he did. 

Iseya placed the paper down, putting his head in his hand with a sigh. “Forget all of this, I'll teach you from the start…” He tapped his pen on the first part of the first question. “If you look at this part here—” 

Iseya was cut off as the door for the club room slid open with a bang. In the doorway stood Akeda, the third-year captain of the soccer club, he looked angry.

“Souta,” he said bluntly. 

Souta quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, checking the time. Shit! Practice started 20 minutes ago. He also noticed he had missed a message from Keisuke 10 minutes prior, warning him that Akeda was annoyed at him, and coming to get him.

“There are some important games coming up and we all need to practice as much as we can. Why the hell are you messing around in here?” Akeda snapped. Souta hadn't seen him this annoyed for a while. I guess I have been late for a lot of practices recently, but still! “I shouldn't have to come and fetch you myself.”

“Sorry, Souta,” Keisuke called out from behind the captain. “I did try to warn you.”

Souta quickly apologised to Akeda, scrambling to pack his homework away as quickly and neatly as possible.

“Sorry Iseya, I really appreciate you trying to teach me!! Maybe next time?”

“That’s—” Iseya started, then his expression quickly changed as if he remembered something. “Wait! I meant to ask you, Imai and Chiba wanted to know if you…” His brows furrowed slightly. “Do you want to help us with the sign for the show next week?”

Souta paused in the doorway, his bag slung over his shoulder and his hair disheveled in the rush. He couldn't help but let a small smile appear on his face. “Oh, sure!” He disguised his accidental smile with a purposeful cheeky grin. “I'd love to!” And with that he turned and ran to catch back up to Akeda and Keisuke.

As he ran, Souta realised something. I never got Tamura-san’s phone number!! 

*

Another long day at school. Souta picked up his books and haphazardly rammed them into his open bag on the table in front of him, sending a few loose sheets of paper flying onto the floor. 

“Woah, you could at least pretend to care about your homework,” Keisuke said in an amused tone as he watched the paper slide across the floor. Just as Souta bent down to pick them up, Keisuke spoke again.

“Oh, hey Iseya.”

Souta quickly snapped up and looked towards the door, lo and behold, Iseya really was standing in the doorway with an awkward frown on his face.

“Huh? What are you doing here?” Souta said, shoving the last two pieces of paper into his bag, clasping it shut as he spoke.

“Oh, erm…” Iseya mumbled. Glancing at Keisuke, his frown became even more noticeable. “Imai and Chiba were wondering where you were, you said you'd help us with the sign…” he added, turning his gaze back to Souta.

“Oh, right, Sorry! I was just finishing up some homework, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Souta flashed Iseya a smile.

“Right, yeah. Fine,” Iseya said with a huff, “see you in a min’.” And with that, he turned and made his way back down the hall. When they could no longer hear his footsteps, Keisuke spoke up again.

“I don’t think he likes me.” He laughed incredulously, raising an eyebrow as he looked towards Souta. “He definitely likes you, though.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Souta laughed, raising his own eyebrow in return. “Besides, he doesn’t hate you, that’s just his thinking face.” After a pause, and seeing Keisuke’s face not change from his skeptical raised eyebrow, Souta added. “It’s bad, I know.” 

Souta and Keisuke walked together until they reached the staircase. “Well, I’m going up,” Souta said, pointing towards the steps. “See you tomorrow!” 

Keisuke returned the farewells and they both went their separate ways. It’s only been about ten minutes, I wonder if Iseya started without me.

As Souta approached the room, he was expecting to hear chatting voices or music, but this time it was silent. He slid open the door, peering around. Nobody’s here. Weird. He stepped inside, slipping his bag off his shoulder and placing it down on one of the spare chairs around the table in the centre of the room. He looked across at all of the pens, paint and large sheets of paper spread across the table in preparation for making the sign. 

Imai had made a few sketches of what they could create, Souta knew they were her designs because she had signed every single one of them. He put his hand out and moved the designs around to see the ones underneath and smiled. I can’t believe I’m actually having fun in this club, I don’t even really like music. He paused, questioning himself. Well, not as much as these guys, anyway.  

Why am I talking to myself?

Souta peered over to the other side of the table where Iseya’s bag was. He knew it was his, since he recognised the scuff on the bottom left hand corner, and the blue ink stain on the strap. It sat on the table, open. His phone and headphones rested on the table next to it. Souta sidled his way around the table, giving one final glance towards the door before picking up the phone to check what Iseya had been listening to. The … Betoruzu? He tilted his head slightly, trying to think if he recognised the name. He picked up the headphones, slipped them on and clicked play. 

Sitting down, he nodded along to the music. It’s kind of catchy, I guess… He closed his eyes lightly, the sun making his skin feel warm as it shone through the window. He wondered what exactly Iseya must think listening to this kind of music. I wonder if he knows the lyrics… 

Souta was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn’t notice Iseya reenter the room with a pack of paintbrushes and a cup of water. 

Suddenly, the headphones were pulled away from Souta’s ears, jolting him from his daydream. Letting out a yelp of surprise, he sprung back, almost knocking over the water with his foot. Iseya must have placed it in front of him while he was daydreaming.

“Having a good time, there?” Iseya said, mockingly. “...Do you mind?” He took the headphones off Souta’s head and placed them around his neck, flinching very slightly as the cushions touched his neck; they must have still been warm from Souta wearing them for so long. Souta stood up, and with an apology he shifted his way back around the table to another available seat.

Iseya rubbed the side of his neck for a moment, then took his seat. He cleared his throat. “Well, since you’re here, let’s get started.”  

The two made themselves comfortable. Iseya drew the outlines of the large letters and handed them over to Souta to paint. Souta sat with his legs folded on the plastic chair as he painted, tapping his foot along to the music that was playing from Iseya’s phone speaker.

“The beat… beedles?” Souta questions.

“Yeah, The Beatles.” Iseya laughed. He rested his head on his palm, a small but still noticeable smile spreading across his face as he drew.

*

Yet another day in the club room. This time Souta had managed to get out of his cleaning duty since one of the guys had a crush on the girl who he had cleaning duty with, and asked Souta to swap with him. Score!

Souta happily skipped over to the club room and very, very slowly slid the door open just a crack to peek inside. He could see Iseya’s back facing him as he sat at the table. He was holding one side of headphones up to his ear, and with the other hand he was scribbling down some notes in that notebook of his. 

Souta silently slid open the door, creeping up behind Iseya without him noticing. “What’s that?” Souta peered over Iseya’s shoulder, scanning the page in front of him. “That music was really pretty—” 

Iseya slammed the book closed and quickly yanked his headphones out of his phone, shutting off the music that was quietly playing through them.

“Woah, sorry!” Souta took a small step back. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”

Iseya held his hand on top of the book, pressing it into the table. Souta couldn’t see his expression, but his entire body looked tense. The two remained silent for a couple of seconds before Iseya gently pushed his chair out. “Sorry,” he muttered, almost too quiet for Souta to hear. He slipped his book into his bag and shifted it onto his shoulder, and without looking at Souta he excused himself and headed for the door. “I just finished.”

Just as Iseya slid the door open, Imai and Chiba were standing outside just about to walk inside. 

“Woah!” Chiba exclaimed as Iseya almost crashed into her. “You alright?” 

Iseya gave her a small nod, and without a word he made his way down the corridor.

“What was that about?” Imai chirped up from behind Chiba, looking towards Souta.

“I… I actually don't know…” Souta stared at the two of them in utter confusion. “He was listening to some music and writing something down, I think I just scared him…”

“Ooooh,” Imai said, drawing out the word way longer than she needed to.

“Oh?” Souta said inquisitively, taking the bait.

“Ooooh!” Chiba continued.

Souta rolled his eyes. “What is it??” he grumbled, and the two girls giggled to themselves.

“Oh, nothing really. Honestly, he’s been working on whatever that is for… Well, since we’ve known him.” Chiba shrugged, looking towards Imai who nodded in agreement. “I think it’s part of the reason he joined the club. It’s a song he’s not let us hear, but he’s always writing down notes, and strumming on his guitar when he listens to it…” 

Souta stood, looking out through the open door as Imai and Chiba made their way into the room and took their seats on opposite sides of the table, as usual. “Don't worry about him,” Chiba said, haphazardly stuffing a few potato chips into her mouth. “He's just like that.”

“Yeah?” Souta said weakly. Something about the situation made Souta feel uncomfortable, he felt like he had just crossed a boundary that shouldn't be touched. 

How am I supposed to know if he doesn't tell me?

*

I’ll talk to her… eventually, Souta had told himself, repeatedly, over the last few days. He was absolutely avoiding the confession; it had been a while since he received the letter and it felt more and more awkward to approach the situation as the days went by. He had somehow found himself in that club room on another late afternoon. His feet had followed the burning orange sunlight up the steps and to his left, it was almost second nature. Souta sat on his usual seat—he had a usual seat at this point—with his bag balanced on his lap like he wasn't planning on staying.

“You need to stop avoiding her.” Iseya scribbled down the final words in his notebook and closed the front page. He leaned back on his seat with a soft exhale. “You like her, right? You're going to have to accept the confession at some point,” he said matter-of-factly, folding his arms loosely in front of him. “Stop being coy about it.”

“Well, it’s not like I…” Souta trailed off, starting to feel a little guilty. “...I wasn’t even sure if I was going to accept the confession.” He messed with the strap of his bag as he spoke, avoiding looking up at Iseya. “I just got excited since nobody has ever…”

“You got excited just because it was your first confession?” Souta looked up to see Iseya sat facing him head-on with a bitter look on his face. “Don’t you think that’s kind of rude to Tamura-san?”

“No it’s…” Souta looked down again, feeling an angry flush on his cheeks. 

“It’s what?”

Why the hell is he being so argumentative right now, why does he care? Yeah, sure, I didn’t think it through properly but he—

“Well?” Iseya snapped.

“It’s the first time anyone has ever shown any interest in me, besides Keisuke,” Souta yelled back, surprising himself with how angry he suddenly felt. “Even you treated me like I was annoying from the second I met you.”

“What? I—” 

“Go ahead and try to deny it, I saw that look on your face. You didn’t even know me and you thought I was a pain in the ass.”

Iseya’s eyebrows, which were pressed together into a frown, furrowed even further as he looked across at Souta. “When have I ever said that about you? Don’t you think you’re projecting a little?” he growled. “I was just in a bad mood that day, so what?”

“And for some reason you decided to make that my problem?”

“Bad timing, I guess.” Iseya gave a half smirk, but it was replaced quickly with a simple frown as he looked at Souta over the table. “I don’t care, anyway. Do what you want. I don’t know what I expected from someone like you.”

“Like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Iseya scoffed, gesturing loosely towards Souta. “Just how you are . Everyone likes you, you’re always invited out with your friends, you have hobbies outside of sitting in a dark and dingy room writing down stupid notes in a stupid—” He cut himself off, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Whatever. I literally do not care about this. I'm not even going to pretend I know what's going through your head.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Souta let out a dry laugh. “Everyone likes me? Not a single person in this school ever takes me seriously. They all treat me like I’m a fucking joke, give me a break,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You, on the other hand, already have a group of fangirls who go to every one of your school performances.” Iseya started to protest, but Souta cut him off. “You’re actually talented at what you do , I’m ‘ just okay’ at soccer.” He paused for a second. “ AND you’re smart, I don’t have that going for me either.”

Wait. This has just turned into me complimenting this jerk, what the hell am I—

“You’re right, you shouldn’t care about what I’m going to do about a confession that has NOTHING to do with you,” Souta snapped. “Get off my back.” He grabbed his bag off his lap and stood up with such force it sent the chair scraping back behind him. He turned, storming out of the room and slamming the sliding door closed behind him. 

Fuck this.

*

“You've been going to the music club a lot recently, are you having fun?” Keisuke asked Souta, taking a bite of his lunch. 

“Huh?” Souta fumbled with the rice in his bento, dropping some onto the table in front of him. “Well, yeah, I guess. It just kind of happened.” He couldn't help but sulk at the accusation, even though it was nothing to sulk about.

“Hey, I'm not judging,” Keisuke laughed, “I'm glad to see you making new friends.” He placed an elbow on the table in front of him, resting his chin on his hand. “The two girls seem nice, too.”

Souta paused mid chew. Staring Keisuke down with a half-hearted scowl. “Iseya isn’t my friend,” he finally said. 

“He’s not?” Keisuke took another bite of his food. “What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? We weren’t friends to begin with.” Souta looked down at his food, he knew if he looked at Keisuke he would probably say more than he wanted to. “He’s an asshole.”

“C’mon, Souta.” Keisuke placed his chopsticks down and looked at Souta with a surprisingly serious expression. “What happened?”

Souta tapped his chopsticks on the side of his bento, deliberating exactly what he wanted to say about the situation without him and Iseya sounding like a quarreling old married couple. “He just got pissed off at me for no reason,” he finally said. “He was pressuring me into accepting the confession— well, talking to Tamura-san… I guess…” Saying it out loud, it really didn’t sound that bad. He grimaced, thinking about what Keisuke must be thinking right now. “I just told him he didn’t get it, and he got pissed off at me.”

“Hmm. Right…” Keisuke watched Souta with a slight frown. “I don’t think that’s the full story.”

“Well, whatever, you’re supposed to take my side, you’re my friend,” Souta whined, folding his arms on the table in front of him and resting his forehead on them.

“I’m on your side, I just think you can act like an idiot sometimes,” Keisuke said with a laugh. “And you’re dramatic. I’m sure Iseya didn’t mean anything by what he said— He probably just wants to hold you accountable since you are clearly avoiding the confession."

Souta couldn’t exactly deny any of those things, but it didn’t stop Keisuke from being a traitor.

*

After packing up his books, and listening to Souta whine about the homework they received that day, Keisuke started to make his way out of the classroom and towards the stairs. Souta trailed after him, wondering how much trouble he would be in if he just didn't do any of the homework. 

As they reached the steps Souta looked up and saw a pair of shoes, attached to a pair of legs, and probably a body, but Souta already recognised those legs. Grabbing Keisuke by his bag strap, he quickly pulled him back into the hallway and around the corner. After they heard Iseya's steps fade away, Keisuke turned to Souta with an incredulous look. 

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“Huh?” Souta said, pretending to be oblivious, taking a few steps into the stairwell. “Nothing, you coming?”

“... Was that Iseya?” Keisuke questioned, but the look on his face said that he didn't need an answer to know he was right. “Don't you think you're taking this a bit far?” He rolled his eyes as he followed Souta down the stairs. 

“I don't know, am I?” Souta flashed Keisuke a grin. Then, after a slight pause, he continued, “Okay, I know I probably am, but I don't know Iseya well enough to know how he’d react to me… He seemed pretty angry.”

“I think you're overthinking this— just apologise.”

“I don't wannaaa,” Souta whined, taking the final two steps in one leap as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Maybe I should just never go back? Do you think he'd care?” Souta quipped, then fell silent as he noticed Keisuke’s slightly annoyed look.

“Souta…” 

“I know, I know.” Souta finally backed down, kicking a rock as they made their way down to the front gates of the school. “I'll try to talk to him soon, I guess.”

“Maybe,” he added, just quietly enough for Keisuke to not hear. 

*

It had been a couple of days since Souta had been to the club room. He felt embarrassed about his outburst with Iseya, but was way too proud to just waltz into the club room like nothing had happened, or, god forbid, be the first to apologise. But he knew he had to at some point, because he was sure Iseya felt the same way. Well, I hope he accepts my apology, Souta thought, otherwise this is going to be suuuuper awkward.  

At the end of the day Souta’s classmate, Takeo, was standing in front of his desk with both palms pressed firmly into the wood. He shook it back and forth while complaining loudly. “Soutaaaa, you never come out with us,” he grumbled. “Even Keisuke is going!” 

“I know, I know. I will, another time .” Souta slung his bag over his shoulder. “Just give me more warning next time!” Takeo had only told him about going to karaoke this afternoon when he had already made his mind up about apologising to Iseya, as much as it pained him to think about.

“I thought you said that guy was a loser, Souta? Did you fall in love after seeing him play guitar once?!” Takeo called out to Souta as he made his way out of the room. Souta brushed it off with a sarcastic ‘Ha, ha,’ and turned down the hall to make his way to the music club room.

Souta spotted Iseya by the bottom of the stairwell. He had his back leaned against the wall with his arms folded, sporting an aggressive frown. Souta didn't feel ready for this moment, but decided to be the bigger person and walked straight up to him.

“Oh… hey, I was just about to come up to the club roo—”

“Well, I was going to come to you to apologise about the other day…” He paused. “But I guess not anymore,” he added in a mumble, gesturing towards the classroom. 

Souta stood in silence for a moment, a look of surprise on his face. “You’re the one who said I was cool, but now your friends are saying you called me a loser?” Iseya huffed, clearly already a little embarrassed about the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“Wha…” Souta started, “I mean…” he stuttered over his words before he could finish his sentence. He couldn’t exactly deny it, since he did actually say he was cool that time, but how would Iseya have heard that? He suddenly felt embarrassed, like he had been caught in a lie. “Well, I did but…”

Souta caught Iseya’s eye, nearly missing the flit of pain in his expression as he glared at Souta.

“But?” Iseya said, sharply. “But what?”

“But— well— I—” Souta scrunched his face up. “Argh!” he let out a defeated yell. “Listen, you weren’t that nice to me when we first met. You do remember that, right? Anyway, I don't want to argue again…”

“Well I wasn’t… I wasn’t that mean,” Iseya grumbled, avoiding looking Souta directly in the face. 

“I never said you were a loser, anyway. Takeo is just being dramatic. I may have said some things about you being a poser before we became friends, but I never said you were a loser ,” Souta finally managed. “He’s just jealous since I’m spending more time with you than them.” 

With a heavy sigh, Souta bowed his head as he spoke. “Anyway, I was coming to find you.” He fidgeted on the spot, like a kid being forced to apologise. “I wanted to… apologise.” … Wait, I am the kid being forced to apologise, ugh. “I’m sorry for getting so angry the other day, I know you’re right, I am avoiding the situation.”

Souta looked up and caught a glimpse of surprise in Iseya’s eyes. The slight flush on his face caught Souta off guard, his heart beat suddenly became a little more noticeable in his chest. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Iseya’s surprised look turned into his typical frown. “Like what? Sorry I’m so shocked that you’re being a decent—” He stopped, letting out a heavy sigh and pressing his hand to his forehead. “No, no. I literally came here to apologise, not…” 

“Oh, yeah…” Souta blinked. 

“What's with that expression?” Iseya scoffed, still holding the same frown as before, but it had softened slightly.

“I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t expect you to…” Souta smiled. “Well. Go on then.”

“Huh?” Iseya looked at Souta, puzzled. Souta raised his eyebrows and nodded towards him, gesturing for him to continue. 

“... Sorry…?” Iseya said, drawing the word out almost sarcastically, with a hint of a smile.

“You’re forgiven!!” Souta exclaimed, a bit too excitedly. He felt like he’d won that conversation, not that you are technically able to win a conversation. But he did. 

“Anyway, since when did I agree to being friends with you?” Iseya asked in a sarcastic tone with a barely concealed smirk. He stood and watched Souta as he made his way towards him.

Souta laughed, giving Iseya a nudge as he walked past, making his way to the club room. He turned back to flash Iseya a smile and make a witty remark, but instead they caught each other's eyes and he stopped in his tracks. Iseya was looking at him with an unexplainable expression, his hand held loosely around the arm that Souta had nudged before. For some reason, Souta didn’t feel like moving, or talking, or even thinking. 

His brain hummed inside his skull, like it was filled with the cicadas that clung to the trees outside. After only a second, Iseya broke eye contact and shuffled his way to Souta, and then passed him, making his way towards the club room. Turning back and yelling over his shoulder, “Come on then.”

Souta stood, his mind still buzzing. He shook his head, freeing his mind from its momentary chokehold, and followed Iseya up the stairs.

*

It was the end of the day, again. It felt to Souta like this week had been the longest he had ever experienced, a lot had happened. As he was packing his bags, he heard a small commotion behind him but decided to ignore it. The door slid open, and a few girls were chatting.

“Is Ueshima-kun here?” a small voice asked from the hallway, and Takeo spun around on his chair with a huge grin plastered across his face. He pointed with an outstretched arm directly at Souta, who had looked up towards them after hearing his own name.

Tamura-san . 

He swallowed hard, he hated to admit it, but he had been completely avoiding Tamura and the confession for these last few days. It had officially been thirteen days since he received the letter. Souta learned from her friends that Tamura had caught the flu, so they hadn't had a chance to meet up until now.

As Souta pushed out his chair to stand up, he looked towards Keisuke who gave him a reassuring nod, as if to say ‘Good luck!’ and a discreet thumbs up. 

After exchanging polite greetings, Souta and Tamura walked a little down the hallway. As they walked past the staircase that led up to her classroom, and the club room, Souta couldn't help but feel a little sad he wasn't going to be able to go there today. 

While he was deep in thought, Tamura spoke up. “Sorry for accidentally ghosting you,” she said softly, looking up towards Souta, and tucking her hair gently behind her ear. “Imai-chan said that you've been asking how I am, so thank you.” 

Souta replied with a small nod. “No worries, I hope you're feeling better now!” He felt nervous talking to her face to face after such a long time, even more so because they had not even had a full conversation before now.

She held her smile while watching him, nodding in response. “I thought the cliché courtyard confession was a bit overplayed so why don't we just walk home together and chat?” She tilted her head slightly to the right. She is cute , Souta thought.

“Yeah, of course.” Souta was distracted as he looked through the window out towards the entranceway of the school. He spotted Iseya briskly walking towards the exit, headphones on. Souta smiled. I wonder what he's listening to.

“Ueshima-kun?” Tamura called out, peering through the window as well. 

“Huh?? Oh yeah! I was just thinking the weather was nice!” he replied, turning back to face Tamura.

The two walked together, making idle chat to get to know each other a little. After a few minutes, Souta asked the question that had been on his mind from the very moment he had received the letter. “So… why did you confess... to me?” 

Tamura laughed, a genuine laugh. “You're so direct!” she said, hiding her smile with her hand. “Hmmm… well, honestly, I saw you playing at the last school soccer game and I thought you looked really cool…” 

Souta blushed slightly, he never thought anyone would think that about him. “You looked like you were having a lot of fun,” she continued. “And I thought your expressions were funny—” She cut herself off mid sentence. To clarify: “Funny in a good way! Charming!”

“Oh, thank you…” Souta mumbled, his blush deepening.

“Honestly, I kind of confessed in the spur of the moment…” She played with the strand of hair that framed her face as she spoke. “I know we don't even know each other.

“Yeah, that's true.” Souta gazed towards the sky. “A letter is spur of the moment for you?”

“I guess so!” Tamura laughed, and the two continued to walk, the wind carrying the sound of children playing in a local park and cicadas calling from the trees.

“Thank you… for your confession,” Souta finally managed. “I have thought a lot about it…”

“But?” Tamura cut into the silence.

“But… I…” Souta mumbled. “Erm…”

Tamura waited for a moment, watching Souta fiddle with the strap of his bag. “I get it, it's okay. Thank you for taking my confession so seriously and thinking so much about it.” She spun around to face Souta head-on as she spoke, a confident smile on her face. “I'll still cheer for you at your next game, though!”

Souta returned her contagious smile, feeling a little lighter after their conversation. “Thank you,” he said, “you'll be the only one!”

They both laughed for a moment before falling silent again. It didn't feel awkward, but not quite comfortable either. “Well, I'm going this way.” Tamura gestured in the opposite direction. “I'll see you at school sometime, I guess!”

“Yeah, I'm sure you will.” 

Souta stood still, taking in what had just happened. He couldn't help but let a smile spread across his face, he felt a lot more relaxed after finally dealing with the confession he had been ignoring for the past few weeks. He didn't know why he didn't consider saying yes to the confession more seriously. He didn't feel like anything was missing from his life recently, he felt fulfilled, and he had more things to look forward to now, like visiting Iseya—and Imai and Chiba—at the club room. He suddenly felt a little giddy that he'd be able to go back to the club room again the next day.

*

And so, the next day Souta waltzed up the now very familiar stairs, almost skipping as he turned left and gave a gentle knock on the club room door. 

“Come in…” Iseya called from inside the room, and Souta let himself in.

He pulled out his seat, which was tucked in neatly along the edge of the table, unlike the other two chairs on the other two sides which Imai and Chiba had clearly already been sitting at that day. Souta couldn’t help but wonder if Iseya spent time at the end of the day to neaten up the club room. That feels like something he’d do.

“I spoke to Tamura-san…” Souta spoke up, after making himself comfortable. 

“Oh yeah? How did it go?” Iseya said without looking up from the page he was writing on. “Did you cry?”

“Wha- No??” Souta started, but noticing Iseya’s sly smile he cut himself off. “No. I told her I was thankful for her confession…”

“But...?” 

“I just don't feel that way about her.” Souta put his elbow on the table and leaned his chin on his palm as he spoke. “I know I could have given it a chance and maybe it would have gone somewhere but…”

“Do you like someone else?” Iseya asked, matter-of-factly.

Souta paused, the thought hadn't really occurred to him. “...No, I don't think so,” he finally managed.

Iseya nodded with a small acknowledging hum. “Fair enough…” He scribbled down a few more words before speaking up again, “Maybe one day you’ll get a girlfriend.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Souta gave Iseya a skeptical frown. “I bet you've received a tonne of confessions, you don't know what it's like to be me!” he joked, but Iseya replied seriously.

“A few, here and there,” he said, continuing his scribblings as if it was the most casual conversation in the world. Souta couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. 

“... Did you ever accept any?” Souta said, trying his hardest to be nonchalant.

“No…” Iseya said, “I was the same, I never felt like that towards any of them… I just didn't see it going anywhere.” He stopped, pondering for a moment. “Wait… I don't think I technically accepted any, but…”

“But??” Souta let out a small overdramatic gasp, holding his hand in front of his mouth. 

“Hmm…” Iseya pondered again, tapping his pointer finger to his bottom lip a few times in deliberation.

“Whaaaat!?” Souta yelled out. “The suspense is killing me!”

Iseya laughed, dismissively waving his hand. “Stop, it's not that serious,” he finally said. “We just kissed, I guess. I don't even know if we technically dated, I don't remember.”

“Oooh!” Souta suddenly felt flushed, the conversation felt intimate somehow. “I see…” 

Of course a guy like him would have had his first kiss, I could have guessed that.

“...Have you had your first kiss?” Iseya smirked sarcastically, resting his chin on his palm.

Souta couldn't help but let out an awkward laugh. His face felt hot. “Nah…” he finally managed. “Never.”

The conversation switched to Souta’s thoughts on Tamura, he admitted that she was cute but that didn’t mean he should date her, Iseya agreed without hesitation. Wanting to get an upper hand on Iseya for a change, he decided to humbly brag about the only compliment she had given him. 

“Well, she said I was cool.” Souta folded his arms defiantly. “AND charming,” he puffed, feigning pride. It's not like it was something he believed himself, he just felt like bragging. He wasn’t trying to see if he could garner a reaction or anything.

“I could have told you that.” Iseya turned the page of his book, pausing. “The– the cool part,” he clarified, clearing his throat, barely hiding the slight flush that had appeared. “I've seen you play a couple of times.”

“You have?? Seriously?” Souta said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah, why not?” Iseya said, flicking forwards a few more pages and placing the book on the table in front of him as he spoke. “I used to play in middle school, I used to love soccer.”

“Really? Why did you stop playing?”

“It's… complicated,” Iseya finally managed, setting his workbook with his textbook on the table. 

“Hmmm…” Souta pondered, trying to balance his pen upright on the table. “That’s fair enough, you don't have to tell me.” I don't want to pry, if he wanted to tell me he would…

Iseya watched him from the other end of the table. “I just had a fight with a teammate, that's all.” 

“Ooh, okay!” Souta smiled as he managed to get the pen to stand on its end, presenting it to Iseya with his hands splayed out in a ‘tah-dah!’ motion. He looked up towards Iseya who was watching him with a warm expression, something he hadn't really seen much of in the past. 

“Well done,” Iseya said with a small laugh. Souta felt an unexplainable warmth in his chest, like it was the first compliment he had ever received. It made him feel a little embarrassed for some reason.

“It’s a shame you fell out of love with soccer,” Souta finally added. “But at least you have your music club now, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Iseya smiled down at his workbook, holding his pen loosely in his hand. 

After a few contemplative minutes, Iseya finally spoke up again, “I only joined this club to work on my own stuff, I never wanted to play on the stage.” He shifted in his seat slightly as he spoke. “My one rule was that I didn't want to be in the spotlight, I asked to play the guitar from behind the stage but they said no…” He let out a small laugh. “You said once before that I had a fanclub of girls, that's so not true… I think you're the first person to actually notice me up there.”

Iseya looked up, catching Souta's eye. Souta’s heart jumped in his chest ever so slightly. Shit, I didn't realise I was staring. “I'm sure other people have noticed!” Souta said with a laugh, explaining away his mini heart attack with the fact that Iseya was being open for once in his life.

“Hm, you'd be surprised,” Iseya hummed, burying his head back into his book to continue his homework.

*

Souta had decided to start doing his homework in the club room when he got the chance, sometimes after school and sometimes during his lunch break. Iseya was almost always there, working away at whatever he had; sometimes he wrote in his notebook and sometimes he did his homework from a lesson earlier in the day.

The room felt calm and quiet, and even with the gentle scratching of Iseya’s pen, Souta found it easy to focus there. Plus, I can ask Iseya for help if I need it, he thought to himself.

The two had been working quietly in their own books, the only thing that could be heard was the idle chatter of other students finishing their club activities. Souta had gotten stuck on a question but didn't want to bother Iseya since he looked like he was totally focused on his work. Iseya, pausing for a moment after scribbling down a few more words, put the end of his pen in his mouth, a thoughtful frown appearing on his forehead.

Souta reached across the table, placing his fingertip on the crease between Iseya’s furrowed brows. Iseya stopped, stunned, his mouth hung open slightly in shock and the pen slipped out of his hand, hitting the table.

“Your thinking face is absolutely brutal,” Souta laughed, then after realising what he had done he quickly moved his hand away. Looking down and catching Iseya's eyes just as a slight flush had begun spreading its way across his face. “Ah, sorry! I don’t know why I just…” The blush must have been contagious, as Souta’s cheeks began to feel hot as well.

The door slid open, and in walked Chiba and Imai, laughing as they chatted. They stopped dead at the sight of the two flustered boys. “What did we just walk in on?” Chiba said, pointing towards Iseya. “Nao-kun, your face…!” The two girls burst into laughter, prompting Iseya to bolt up from his seat.

“What! What about my face?” he yelled back. “Fuck. I’m going home,” he said, snatching his bag and heading out of the door. Souta could only sit in shock as all of this happened around him 

“Aww, Nao-kun, don’t be embarrassed!! We’re just so happy you’ve made a friend!” Chiba yelled after him, forcing Imai to fold over with laughter.

*

Souta, after giving the door a quick knock, slowly slid it open and peeked inside. He’d been coming to this room so often now he didn't even feel the need to wait to be let in. He spotted Iseya on the other side of the room, pensively reviewing his notes. He had an expression that Souta couldn't quite place, but it made his heart ache as he watched him.

“Hey, you okay?” Souta asked, stepping one foot into the room.

Iseya jolted as if he had just woken up from a trance, and let out a small sniffle as he looked up towards Souta.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just…” He looked back towards the notebook in his hand, repositioning the guitar on his lap with his other hand.

Souta stood in silence, it felt like Iseya had more to say and he didn't want to cut him off. Something about the mood said that Souta just needed to stand and listen or Iseya would brush it under the rug.

After a few moments, Iseya spoke up again. 

“I think it's finished.” His breath was shaky as he sighed it out, his eyes looked slightly red like he had.. has he been crying?

“Yeah?” Souta said, stepping fully into the club room and slowly closing the door behind him.

“Can you lock it?” Iseya said in a small voice, not looking up from his page. Souta could see his mouth turning down on each side like he was trying not to cry. Souta silently obliged, quickly turning the lock on the door. 

With another deep slow breath, Iseya placed the notebook on the table in front of him and began strumming out a tune, stopping after a few moments with a small “Shit, one second,” before repositioning himself in his seat and trying again.

The song was slow and melodic, with simple chords and a rhythmic tapping of Iseya's foot as he played. After a few moments, he took a small breath and began singing. It was almost a mutter, and Souta couldn't make out every single word as Iseya sang, but it was a song about love and grief, about moving on and not looking back. 

“And when I'm gone, don't say you miss me,” he sang, his breath shaking between every word. “Don't put your life on pause, I'm still with you.” 

Iseya closed his eyes as he continued, Souta could see a few tears drop onto his cheeks when he did. All Souta could do was sit and watch, clutching his heart through his shirt as it thumped in his chest. He could feel the pain in Iseya’s voice and it made him want to sob uncontrollably. How could a guy who always looks so put together hold so much pain?

Souta suddenly realised just how little he knew about him. He’d been coming to this silly club room almost every day for the last two months, almost instinctually; he didn't really have a reason to, not now that the confession had blown past, but he felt drawn to it. Drawn to him . I'm so glad nobody can read my mind, anyone would think I'm in love with the gu— his thought was cut short as Iseya strummed the final note on his guitar, glancing up at Souta momentarily with glassy eyes. Souta's heart lurched in his chest, forcing him forward slightly from the ache. His face suddenly flushed a hot red, from the reality of the thought that was just in his mind, and the desperate look on Iseya’s face.

“Iseya…” he finally managed, holding back tears. “That was… really beautiful.”

Iseya’s head sank as he let out a few sniffles, barely concealing how many tears were falling. Souta wanted to rush over there and hug him, he wanted to know what was going through his head, why he was so upset.

“My…” Iseya began, his voice getting caught in his throat. He let out a small disgruntled growl, aggressively wiping his tears from his face with his arm. He got out his phone, unplugging his headphones and dropping the device on the table in front of him. From the speaker, Souta could hear faint talking and giggling, then a woman spoke.

“Nao,” it called out, “my sweet, we wrote this for you.” 

Souta’s heart was thumping heavily in his chest. He wondered who the woman was, Is that his mum? He hadn't heard Iseya talk about his mum the whole time they had known each other, he had only ever mentioned a sister that was away at university, and his father. He always had a sour expression when talking about his father, so Souta assumed they didn't get on. Souta was snapped back to reality as another voice appeared on the recording.

“Me and Mum have been writing this for aaages so you better like it!!” a younger voice chirped from the speaker, followed by the two of them laughing. His sister? Souta peered up towards Iseya, whose focus was fixed solely on the device on the table.

A gentle strum of a guitar could be heard, along with a creak of a chair.

“Emi, stop moving around!” The older woman laughed again, then continued playing. The chords weren't as clean as Iseya’s, and Souta could hear a few rogue twangs mixed in as she played. Then the two started singing, the same lyrics Iseya had been singing just moments before.

Souta noticed Iseya’s head bowing even lower, and splotched tears began falling onto his trousers, forming patterns where they landed. Souta couldn't help but tear up himself, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. They both sat in silence, listening to the song play.

“Well, I hope you liked it!! I know I could use some practice, but maybe one day I can teach you.” A moment of silence on the recording. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Mum,” he mumbled to himself, barely loud enough for Souta to hear.

A moment of static, then the recording clicked off. Iseya looked like he was too choked up to speak, and Souta was barely holding it together himself. 

“Erm...” Souta said, his voice wavering as he spoke. He paused and cleared his throat. “Was... was that your mum and your sister?”

Iseya nodded, sending a few more tears cascading down. After another beat, Iseya grabbed the collar of his vest and aggressively rubbed the tears from his face, then wiped his trousers with his hands. Souta couldn't see his face, but the tops of his ears were tinted red. He cleared his throat and then coughed, standing up and grabbing his notes and phone from the table without looking up towards Souta. Souta watched him in silence as he zipped his guitar into the case and scrunched his notebook and phone into his bag. Then Iseya stood facing slightly away from Souta, stifling sniffles between controlled breaths.

Souta, without realising himself what he was doing, instinctually got up from his seat and made his way over to Iseya, holding an arm out in front of him as an invitation.

Iseya looked up towards Souta with his eyes momentarily, but he didn't move. Another sniffle as he turned slightly towards Souta. He let out a questioning hum, clearly not wanting to speak. Souta very slowly and carefully put his arms around Iseya, giving him the chance to move away if he wanted to. But he didn't. Iseya stood still for a moment, rigid as Souta gently held him in place. 

This feels so awkward. What the hell am I doingggg?? Souta could feel his face twisting into an awkward frown as he stood there holding his new friend, wondering how he even got into this position in the first place. But as he stood, Iseya turned slightly more into him, resting his face on Souta's shoulder. His arms slowly reached up and placed themselves around Souta's back, holding him gently in a hug. Iseya let out a sigh, which Souta could feel with every cell in his body, so much so his hairs stood on end. It felt uncomfortable, but also like he was vibrating from the physical contact. They both held on even tighter as Iseya began to sob into Souta’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, Iseya let out another sigh and released his grip on Souta, resting his hands loosely on his lower back once again. A few more sniffles, and Iseya raised his head. 

“Shit,” he mumbled and pushed himself away from Souta, instantly hiding his face with his hand as he wiped the tears from it. He turned away, grabbing his bag from next to his seat and gesturing towards the door. “I'm… gonna go clean myself up. Don't tell anyone I cried,” he muttered, making his way to the door.

“Iseya—” Souta started, but was cut off by Iseya just as he unlocked the door.

“Nao,” he replied, the door half open as he looked back towards Souta. His face was red and stained with tears. Souta could feel his heart beat quicken, he stood watching Isey— Nao... Nao . His mind went blank, all he could do was stand and watch as Nao held an inquisitive expression.

“Sorry, I just…” Souta finally managed, blinking a few times to ground himself back into reality. “I…” He looked down towards the ground. My heart!! It almost hurt as it thumped in his chest, a mix of anxiety and admiration coursing through his body. He was in awe of the boy that was standing in front of him, lit by the orange glow of the slowly setting sun as it spilled into the room through the window. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and that realisation made his heart beat even louder. 

“Souta?” Nao questioned, sliding the door even further open, “are you coming?” 

*

After weeks of pestering, Souta had finally agreed to go to Karaoke with Takeo and Keisuke. It was on the condition that he invited Nao as well, which was Keisuke's idea. It's ‘good team building’ he had said, but Souta knew it was just an excuse to actually talk to Nao since they hadn't really met before. Maybe he's jealous I've made a new friend.

Takeo had completely taken the lead, choosing almost all of the songs for the first 20 minutes of the session, with no breaks. After Takeo went for a toilet break, Nao offered to get more drinks for the four of them.

“He's.. intense,” Nao said with a small laugh, gesturing towards the door that Takeo had just left from. “What did you want to drink, anyway?” he said, turning to Keisuke. 

“Tea is fine, thank you.”

“Souta?” Nao asked, turning his attention to Souta.

“Just orange juice, thank you!” Souta said with a smile.

Keisuke and Souta sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while Nao fetched drinks for them. He returned with a tray with four drinks on. A tea, an orange juice and two glasses of water. “I wasn't sure what Hasegawa would want, so I just got him water.”

After placing the tray down, Nao excused himself to the bathroom. Keisuke had waited until Nao was completely out of earshot before turning to Souta with a baffled expression.

“‘Souta’??” he questioned, “Since when??”

Souta almost choked on his juice as he took a swig. Shit, I didn't even think about that. 

“Huh? Er, a little bit I guess,” he finally managed, wiping the juice from his nose. “A few days?”

“What happened? Why did you two sudden—” Keisuke cut himself off as he heard the clack of the door opening again and Takeo and Nao returned through the door together. 

“Thank god for Iseya!” Takeo announced with a relieved smile. “I ran out of toilet paper, who knows how long I would have been stuck in that cubicle…!”

Souta and Keisuke both looked to a highly amused Takeo, then to a slightly embarrassed Nao and couldn't help but laugh themselves. 

After a few more songs it was Keisuke’s turn. He was painfully flat, but soulful. He sat with his eyes half closed, squinting at the lyrics on the screen. He even had a crease in his forehead from concentrating on the song so hard. Souta shuffled closer to Nao and gave him a small nudge, shaking him out of his daydream. “Are you gonna sing?” he asked.

“Hmm…” Nao hummed. “I don't know,” he turned his head slightly to Souta, his profile lit by the purple and pink lights of the screen. “What do you think I should sing?” 

Souta blinked, he was suddenly reminded of the first day that he met Nao, the orange light in the classroom contrasting with the way the screen lit the room up a vibrant purple. How far their friendship had come in those five or so weeks made Souta feel almost nostalgic.

“Souta?” Nao called out again, gesturing towards the screen.

“Oh, yeah! I'll pick!!” Souta jumped up, grabbing the tablet and swiping through the song options. He looked across a few times as he scrolled to see Nao's reaction. He continued a few more songs, landing on something that seemed to pique Nao's interest. 

He clicked, and up it flashed on the screen. ‘(I can’t get no) Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones.’ Nao flashed Souta an inquisitive smile. “How did you know I liked this song?” 

Souta shrugged. “Beginner’s luck?”

"Beginner's luck??” Nao laughed, a genuine laugh. “What exactly are you a beginner at?”

The satisfying guitar riff started up, and Nao made himself comfortable in his seat. I wonder why he doesn't sing in his band . Souta was genuinely surprised at how good he was at singing from when he heard him sing his mum's song. But he was especially surprised at how good he was at singing an English song. His pronunciation is really really good. He sat and watched him, not registering the enamoured look on his face until he caught Keisuke's eye from the other side of the booth. His smile dropped into an embarrassed frown, and Keisuke laughed at him.

Souta looked back towards Nao who was singing his heart out at this point. His heart twinged in his chest, just watching Nao made Souta feel at ease, at peace, but somehow excited and uneasy at the same time. Wait, excited? Souta pondered to himself, wondering why his heart was beating so loudly in his chest. As the song finished up, Nao sat with a proud smile on his face, he turned to Souta and gave him a genuine smile which reached up to both eyes, crinkling them in the corners. Souta watched him with a blank expression, his heart thumping in his chest. This feeling…

Shit.

I think I like him.