Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Harua thought about it, he couldn't name any similarity he shared with Yuma.

They went to the same school since elementary days—a long time filled with occasional greetings and awkward smiles, sometimes even quick conversations if it was too odd not to talk. Harua never minded it. After all, they were never in the same friend group either. The two of them seldom had a reason to talk for more than five minutes. Harua couldn't say they were friends. They were acquaintances at best. Yuma was a familiar face Harua often saw running down the hallway or joking around with friends. A face he could recognize, not because he intended to, but because of coincidences.

Yet now, Harua couldn't tell if it was another coincidence or a joke the universe was trying to play on him.

It was supposed to be any regular day. School was over an hour ago, and he was on his joyful way to the convenience store alone—because Taki, who was supposed to be his best friend and therefore should have been with him, betrayed Harua consciously for an impromptu club activity—when Yuma pulled him closer by the arm.

Flabbergasted, Harua froze. In front of him was someone whose face he recognized, but whose name was unknown. "I'm datin' Shigeta-kun now, Jojo. See?" Yuma grasped his hands, shaking them in the air. "We were plannin' to go to the shop together."

"Jojo" blinked. "I … well … since … since when?"

Since never! Harua wanted to scream out, but instead swallowed the words and let Yuma speak. There was some kind of distress on Yuma's face that Harua could barely read. He had never seen him like this, mainly because the Yuma that Harua met was always grinning, laughing, or joking. For the first time, Harua caught his eyebrows furrowing and his shoulders shaking.

Pushed by something that came to him, Harua squeezed Yuma's hands gently. His fingers were cold despite the warm summer. Yuma flinched at the touch, but quickly tightened the grip.

"Seriously, Jojo. Don't mind me," Yuma sighed. "I didn't tell you 'cause it's new. Heck, we haven't even told anyone yet!"

The guy, "Jojo", stood awkwardly. His eyes darted to their faces before staring at their hands. He gulped, and Harua noticed his sharp jaw stiffening. "Well, okay," "Jojo" said, "I guess I should … go, then. Uhm, enjoy?"

Despite the sharpness of his features, he had the softest voice Harua had ever heard. Yuma said something that sounded like goodbye and a promise of telling all the details at school tomorrow—Harua wasn't listening. He was too busy thinking of their tangled hands and "Jojo"'s flustered face.

When "Jojo" was out of sight, Yuma let go of his hand.

"Sorry, Shigeta-kun," he mumbled with a slight bow of his head, "I … well, I was desperate, and you were there. Sorry."

Harua stayed still. What should he say? It's okay, Nakakita-senpai, or I do not want to be included in whatever this is at all, Senpai? "It happens," Harua managed, although he wasn't sure if that was the right answer. Maybe in dramas, but clearly not in real life. Things like this weren't supposed to happen in real life. "I'm confused about what is happening, though."

Yuma grimaced. "Well … 'm a bit hungry. Care to talk over soba?"

☆

"Cold soba is truly the best for summer!" Yuma grinned. "Whoa. I try to limit myself, but really, sometimes I just want to eat it every day."

Harua hummed, putting a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. It was as if the frustration on Yuma's face earlier was merely a fragment of his imagination. He seemed fine now, eyes glinting with what seemed like mischief. Harua wondered if Yuma's eyes had always shone that way. He reminded him of a stray cat near his home, one that had been constantly circling Harua's legs for pats. It didn't look like a stray, but Harua had never seen a collar around its neck.

"Shigeta-kun," Yuma called, snapping Harua out of his reverie, "you sure you don't wanna eat?"

"I was going to eat at home," answered Harua, "and, hey, aren't you going to explain about … whatever happened?"

Yuma twirled his noodles in the bowl. He slouched on the wooden chair, the soft summer breeze kissing his face. Summer hadn't reached its highest point yet. He loved the festivities, or talking a walk when the weather was nice, but Harua wasn't a big fan of the heat—he'd feel sticky, like his skin wasn't truly his skin and instead was a messy pool of sweat. Sitting here with a cup of ice cream made him long for the beach and its salty air.

"You sure you're not gonna eat? It'll be long, y'know."

Harua shook his head. "No, but thank you."

"Well, 'm not sharing mine, so don't ask, 'kay?"

At that, he scoffed. "I wasn't even planning to!"

"You might change your mind." Yuma shrugged. "Where do I start, huh …."

When Yuma began, Harua tried his best not to look like an open book. He kept his mouth shut, but what poured out of Yuma's mouth kept surprising him. Jojo and I dated for six months, he began. And then he told Harua they had broken up after three months because they—mostly "Jojo"—thought they were better off as friends.

"But 's like we've never broken up," Yuma went on, stabbing his bowl with the chopsticks. Harua felt sorry for the poor thing. "We're always together at school. Heck, even outside of school. We're in the same class, and … y'know, we're basically inseparable."

Yuma ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it roughly. The frustration Harua saw earlier came back to his face. "But, lately, Jojo likes someone else. He keeps denyin' it, but I know he is. Man, he can't stop lookin' at his phone even in the middle of class! And he was never the type to do that, see. He's usually focused. But now it's always his phone, phone, phone, and he smiles every time too." Yuma tipped his head back. "Aaah, and it's the face of someone in love! He's gigglin' and blushin' and whatever. Hard to miss it, really. One look and you'll know. I've never seen him like that, and we dated for a bit."

Harua pondered what to say. He wanted to comfort him, but wasn't sure if it was the appropriate reaction right now. So he stayed silent, offering sympathy through his eyes, albeit not certain it reached Yuma. Harua took another spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, the awkwardness on his shoulders slowly leaving as Yuma broke the engulfing silence.

"But Jojo is … he's nice. He's kind 'n' sweet. He thinks about me often." For a second, Harua thought he saw Yuma's cheeks turning soft pink. "So, y'know, he doesn't wanna date anyone unless I do it first."

It wasn't hard to connect the dots when it was laid bare in front of him. Harua leaned in closer, his elbows perched on the table. "Is that why you did what you did?"

"Kinda?" Yuma answered, but it sounded more like a question. He spared a quick glance at Harua. "Yeah. Well, I want Jojo to be happy."

You look like you're still in love with him, Harua pondered. "So … you want me to be your boyfriend so he can pursue his crush?"

Yuma's face dulled. He took a big bite of his noodles as Harua watched, eyes closed, not giving him any answer. Harua noticed his lips had turned upside down, a lot different from his usual kitty-like lips. Another bite of ice cream went inside Harua's mouth while he waited for Yuma to answer. This was the longest they had ever talked. They had been here for what seemed like 30 minutes, and Harua doubted they would finish anytime soon.

"Fake boyfriend," Yuma said, voice emphasizing the first word. "Not a real one, but a fake one."

Harus waved a hand in front of his face. "I know. Obviously."

"Does this mean you agree?"

"Excuse me?" Harua tilted his head. "Agree to … what?"

"To be my fake boyfriend, 'course," replied Yuma, head tilting to the other side, "since you said it."

"I didn't say I agree to it."

"But you got it! Might as well agree to the offer."

"I don't even know you."

Yuma laughed. His eyes crinkled, and with his visible snaggletooth, Harua understood why Yuma reminded him of a cat. "C'mon. Now, that's a lie, Shigeta-kun. We always attend the same school."

"But it's not like we really know each other, though?" Harua leaned back in his chair. He fiddled with his fingers. "Sure, I know your name and class, but that's all I know."

"Huh." Yuma frowned. "But I know about you. You're in the Painting Club, right? Class 2-B, and—"

"Wait, wait," Harua interrupted, raising his right hand, "how did you know?"

"You've been in the Painting Club since middle school, and you were in the Disciplinary Committee too, right?" Yuma grinned, his snaggletooth glinting like a fang. "I'm actually quite the observer, Shigeta-kun."

Harua shuddered at the thought. Who is this guy? It wasn't anything creepy that made Harua feel he should call Taki and ask for help, but it left a tingling feeling on his skin, heating up his cheeks. "Thank you?"

Yuma crossed his arms. "Shigeta-kun, you need to help me."

"Senpai," Harua replied, "with all due respect, but I'm not getting dragged into this."

"Oh, c'mon!" Yuma pouted. "It's just 'till Jojo dates his crush. We can fake a break-up after."

"How long will that take?"

"A year …?"

"No."

"Fine. A few months."

"Senpai, I'm not doing it."

"I'll encourage him to pursue his crush, I swear!"

"I don't want to be included."

"I'll buy you whatever sweets you want at school," Yuma pleaded. His eyes reminded Harua of when cats would ask for treats. "Even after school. Please."

Evil ideas formed themselves in Harua's brain. He could throw some silly ideas, and Yuma would comply, looking at how desperate he was. Harua crossed one knee over the other, knuckles tucked under his chin, eyes looking at everything but Yuma. He could feel Yuma's stress from where he was sitting. "I don't know," Harua mumbled, "that sounds like a good offer."

If he could say the truth, the good offer didn't start with the sweets. Rather, it was Yuma's barely concealed desperation. Even while bickering, the despair seeped in between every word, softening Harua's stubbornness. He had never seen Yuma like this, although Harua doubted he had ever seen Yuma like anything at all, except for the Yuma who was always laughing loudly in the corridor. Maybe it was his sheer curiosity, on top of Yuma's sullen expression, that pushed his head to nod.

"Fine," Harua said, "but we have to have rules, and I'm not doing this for more than three months."

"Three months is too short!"

"Senpai, I don't think you have the authority to object."

Yuma gasped. "You brat." What followed was a train of laughter. Yuma tipped his head back, holding his stomach as the laughter went on for a minute. Harua didn't know if he said anything funny, but the sound made him giggle. "Seriously, Shigeta-kun. How do we never talk like this before?"

He didn't have an answer, so Harua just shrugged. He smiled at Yuma, who still had a little bit of laugh left. "Should we write down the rules, then, Nakakita-senpai?"

"Write it down?" Yuma shook his head. "What are you? A millennial?"

"Hey! What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, we can just remember it, right?"

"No." Harua crossed his arms. "If we're going to do it, you need to follow my way."

A wave of quietness closed in on them, split by a conceding sigh. "Fine. We'll do it your way, then."

☆

After a series of endless bickering, an additional bowl of soba, Yuma urging Harua to eat ("It's been an hour and you haven't eaten anything!" Yuma stressed out, as if he wasn't the one who kept him here), and three glasses of cold beverages, Harua signed the paper. Yuma looked at him with a strange gaze. "Y'know, I do think old school is cute, but ain't this just old?"

"You need to stop complaining and write your name," Harua replied. "You're the one who roped me into this mess, remember?"

Yuma took a breath, but signed the paper after writing his name. "Maaan. You're a stern one, Shigeta-kun."

"Excuse me?" Harua glared at him. "I just prefer to be organized."

"Yeah, so basically just stern."

"Two different things." Harua scowled. "And you need to follow the rules, Nakakita-senpai. You've signed the papers."

The table shook when Yuma laid his hands on the table, and his head popped out in the middle. "You're makin' me feel like 'm signing a deal with the devil."

Harua fixed his eyes on him. "You brought this upon yourself."

"Blah, blah, anyway." Yuma put his chin on top of his right arm. "Hey, why can't I hug you?"

"I'm not big on physical affection," Harua said matter-of-factly, "and, well, we just knew each other. A hug might be too much."

"But don't couples do it all the time?"

"But we're not one."

Yuma puckered his lips. "We are one. We're pretending to be one."

"It's still different from the usual couples, Senpai. Don't make it hard." Harua straightened his legs. The right one was getting tired, so he switched them around. He took a sip of his sweet iced tea, clicking his tongue quietly. "And as I said, holding hands is fine, and sitting beside each other, too. But anything beyond that is a no."

"Fineee. I guess we'll have to take it slow."

Harua glanced at Yuma, who was still grumbling under his breath, and the chopsticks in his bowl turned into a victim of his energy. It had been over an hour, and Harua had picked a few things about Yuma. First, he liked to nag. Not the type of nagging that annoyed him, but it was enough for Harua to give in and let Yuma order him food. Second, Yuma enjoyed messing with him. Sometimes, he would say things to Harua in a you're-not-wrong-but-I-will-annoy-you-anyway kind of way, where he kept throwing back words to make Harua scowl. He would even start a petty argument out of nothing ("Hey, why do you hold your chopsticks that way?" When it was clearly a normal way to hold them!). Third, surprisingly, Yuma watched a lot of anime. He couldn't stop mentioning the ones he had read while they discussed the ground rules. Harua had never read a few of them, and Yuma frowned when he heard the confession.

"You are," he prompted, hands dramatically in the air, "missing out a lot in life. I have to be your anime guru."

"I like doramas better," Harua muttered. "I don't really watch anime."

"Some doramas were adapted from anime, right?"

"But they're different, Senpai. They're, like, better."

"Nonsense." Yuma rolled his eyes. He pushed his chair back, his whole body leaning back. Harua prayed Yuma had good core strength because he wouldn't want to deal with a bone breaking fall. "The original's always better!"

"You haven't even watched it yet," Harua shot back.

"I don't need to watch it to know the anime one is better."

"You're so" —Harua pressed both hands to his face— "so, so, so … whatever. You're crazy."

"That's a rude thing to say to your senior, Shigeta-kun," Yuma faux-complained. There was no severity in his voice, so Harua merely scoffed at him. "I thought you were a polite boy."

"All the respect I have for you had flown out the window the moment you dragged me into this."

Yuma made a duck-like lips. "Why did you agree anyway?" He squinted. "Don't say it's 'cause of the sweets."

I don't know, Harua wanted to say. He had no definite answer. He couldn't say it was because of Yuma's desperation, but he couldn't admit it was because he was mildly interested in Yuma. "I'm just nice and bored," Harua uttered, "it's not important. We should make up a story on how we end up dating."

What greeted him was silence. Yuma's eyes were on him, but Harua knew he was looking past him. He hummed a melody Harua didn't recognize, his fingers tapping on the table, with his left hand tucked under his chin. Harua turned his head over his shoulder, pulling his knees closer to his chest, hiding half his face with his arms. He peered at Yuma through the corner of his eyes, silently making assumptions on his unreadable expression.

"I used to like you in middle school, Shigeta-kun."

Harua looked over too quickly, he thought he was going to give himself a whiplash. "What?"

"Yeah," responded Yuma. "I mean, you were quiet 'n' all, but you were kind. And I liked your paintings."

"Senpai," Harua called, flustered, "what are you talking about?"

Yuma closed his eyes before fixing his gaze on him, eyes twinkling brightly as if there were a thousand of stars in it—if the Devil ever had stars in his eyes. "I was makin' up a story," Yuma smiled, a little too devilish to Harua's liking, "for us to use, see. Why? Did you think it was true?"

Embarrassed, Harua kicked Yuma's shin under the table. "In your wildest dream."

"Are you sayin' you want me to dream of you?"

Again, he kicked his shin, this time a little harder. Yuma shouted, "What the—that hurts, Shigeta-kun!" He rubbed his shin softly, glaring at Harua from where he was crouching. "What did I do?"

"You deserve it."

"Aaah, you're mean, Shigeta-kun! All that kindness were an act, huh?"

"You're dramatic, Senpai," Harua sighed. "And again, stop annoying me. Your life is at my hands, remember?"

"So much for calling me dramatic when you're just as dramatic."

"I'm not dramatic!"

"No, seriously, did you hear yourself?" Yuma snickered. "Your life is at my hands, remember? Who are you? An assassin?"

"You're seriously annoying!" exasperated Harua as he threw a round eraser at Yuma, barely missing him. The victim—or target, Harua would debate, because he was the real victim—guffawed, almost falling from his seat if he didn't grab the table. "I don't want to do this anymore!"

"Oi, oi, now, don't be rash, Shigeta-kun," Yuma giggled. "I promise I won't annoy you anymore, 'kay?"

"I don't believe you."

"I promise," assured Yuma. He moved his right pinky closer to Harua, offering a genuine smile, although Harua couldn't let go of his doubts. "Pinky promise."

Harua squinted his eyes. If his eyes were a scanner, that would make Yuma's face a bar code he continuously failed to read. It was difficult to guess what Yuma was planning. He couldn't figure out was it because this was the only real conversation they had, or because Yuma was clever in concealing his true feelings in general. Harua sighed. "Fine," he huffed, linking their pinkies together. "But one funny business and I'm out."

The slight squeeze Yuma gave spread warmth around his body. He let go, looking at Harua, once again with a smile he couldn't decipher. "But really, why do you speak like that?"

God, help me.

☆

Despite the summer heat, Harua's class decided to open the windows. Harua sat near the window, in the middle row, a few desks away from Taki, who was dragging an empty chair next to his desk. "I thought we'd never get to break time."

"Koga-sensei's class is fun," Harua refuted, "it's not as boring as the other classes."

Taki pouted. "But I was hungry."

"That's on you for waking up late," chided Harua, slapping Taki's shoulder softly. "I reminded you to wake up earlier today."

"The weather made me want to sleep in."

The soft summer breeze caressed his face as Harua silently agreed. He did feel like sleeping in today; moreover, after the chaotic events of yesterday. Perhaps it was because of the bright blue sky, or the merciful sun, or the fact that he got a question right in class, but Harua was slowly overcome by a strong drowsiness filling him. He leaned his head against the wall, mumbling, "Well, I'm not hungry, so I guess I'll just sleep a little."

"What?" Taki looked up from his lunch box. "You're not eating?"

Harua shrugged, eyes closed comfortably. "I'm only eating bread, anyway. I can eat it fast."

"Oi, Harua—"

"Harua-kun, someone is looking for you!" Somebody shouted, grabbing both Taki's and Harua's attention. "It's Nakakita-senpai!"

The class went absurdly silent at the words. Taki whipped his head at Harua, and the target of the glare widened his eyes. This wasn't in the deal yesterday! Yuma didn't mention anything about visiting his class. Everybody's eyes were on Harua, the same question painted on their faces: Why is Nakakita-senpai looking for you?

Of course, he had to forget how popular Yuma was among the students when he accepted his offer yesterday. It just had to be the one thing that had the possibility to change his school experience.

Harua slammed his fist on the table, pushing his chair away. He almost ran to where Yuma was standing if Taki didn't pull his shirt, forehead wrinkled, mouthing the question he figured would come out, "Why is he looking for you? With a … is that a lunch box?"

"I'll explain it to you later," promised Harua, pushing Taki's hand gently. He walked faster to Yuma, who was grinning, and seized him quickly. Yuma let out a startled sound, but he followed Harua's hurried steps.

"Slow down, Shigeta-kun!"

They stopped at the staircase after walking for a few minutes, with confused stares from people they passed by. Harua released Yuma's hand, eyes darting around to make sure there was no one who could hear them. "Why did you come to my class?"

"To eat lunch together?" Yuma held up his lunch box. "Isn't that something couples do?"

"But you should've told me first! You can't just … you can't just show up like that!"

Yuma frowned. He tilted his head, lips a little puckered. "Why are you turning this into a big deal?"

Because now everyone will look at me and ask me about you. Harua held his breath. It wasn't as if Yuma's popularity was something out of a romance drama. He didn't have a fan club that could endanger Harua's life, nor did anyone follow him around or confess to him out of the blue—at least, Harua had never heard any of it. His popularity came from being friendly, all smiles and laughter while greeting people, supported with a prettily handsome face. Everyone in Harua's class knew Yuma. He was the center of everyone's attention. In Harua's eyes, he basked in it, while Harua was the opposite.

He knew people, but only those he shared classes or clubs with. He wouldn't describe himself as quiet, but he was far from loud. Socializing wasn't his specialty. Harua hated unwanted attention. He even disliked the one he expected would come his way. He would squirm under the crush of too many eyes, diverting his gaze somewhere else. How could he forget what accepting Yuma's offer would mean?

"It's nothing," Harua sighed, "it's not important. But I usually eat lunch with Taki, so I'd have to explain things to him."

"You can just tell him we're dating," Yuma said, "but don't tell him it's fake."

"But I tell him everything! He won't believe me."

"That's your problem."

Before Harua could fly out any protest, Yuma took his hand. He guided him down the stairs, heading into the backyard of their school. Harua's steps fell clumsily behind him. "'m hungry. Let's eat."

They found a bench under a tree. The shadow gave them enough protection from the heat, although it wasn't smoldering hot. Yuma nudged Harua's hand when he sat down, and Harua took his place beside him. "Do we really have to eat here?"

"We need to be seen by people," Yuma said, before emphasizing, "a lot."

"What?" Harua shifted a little further from Yuma. "Are you serious?"

"Pretty much?" Yuma opened his lunch box, the aroma dancing around Harua's nose, teasing his not-so-empty stomach. "We should be seen together during break time and after school, too. Walkin' home together and such."

Somehow, it just registered to him how serious Yuma was about the whole bit. Harua thought it would be a silly thing—letting words fly around as they occasionally talked at school, making sure they would reach "Jojo"—and not actually being seen together at every free time. They did talk about public display of affection, which Harua did take as a sign that they would be seen in public together, but Yuma's words were filled with giggles and laughter, and Harua failed to take into account how resolved he was.

Harua made sure to give Yuma a stare that could have made holes in his head if he had lasers on them. Yuma ignored him. "Wait, where's your lunch?"

"I left my bread in class." Harua kicked a stone near his left foot. "I wasn't planning to eat it, though."

"Wha—hey! You need to eat, Shigeta-kun."

"I'm not hungry," Harua huffed. "You can go ahead and eat yours, Senpai."

"I bought some sweets for us earlier," Yuma said with what sounded like a dramatic sadness to Harua's ears, "but I guess you can't eat them now …." He took out a handful of candies from his pocket. "These were meant to be dessert."

"What does that even mean?"

"You need to eat properly or you won't grow taller, Shigeta-kun."

"Stop treating me like a child!" Harua crossed his arms, pouting with another sharp glare thrown at Yuma. "You're not even that taller than me."

"But you are younger than me, y'know. I have to take care of you."

Harua leaned back. The warmth from the bench crept behind him, and he quickly straightened his back. "No one is asking you to take care of me."

"Well, I do it because I want to," Yuma easily replied. "'m sharing my food with you, so don't be picky, 'kay?"

Before he had any chance to retort, Yuma shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth. Harua stayed still for a few seconds before registering the bursting flavor in his mouth—a mixture of sweetness and sourness melting on his tongue, followed by the soft white rice. Yuma's smile reached his twinkling eyes. "Tasty, right?" He took a bite himself. "I'm not the best cook, but this was easy to follow."

"That was good," Harua mumbled, a little embarrassed. He might find Yuma exasperating, but he wouldn't lie about the taste. Still, it felt shameful to praise something you denied. "I didn't know you could cook."

The right confession should have been this: Harua didn't know what Yuma could and couldn't do. Partly because they never talked, but the rest was because Yuma had a certain image people had made for him. In Harua's mind, he pictured Yuma as this boy who knew the whole school, loved to joke around, and had a nice smile. His laugh could be heard from across the hall, that at one point, Harua could hear him before he could see him. Maybe it was the result of years of hearing Yuma laughing in the hallways, but that was what Yuma was to him—the personification of laughter.

Harua never thought of him past that.

"Mhm, that's a common reaction." Yuma smiled thinly. "I can do a lot of things."

"Can you bake?"

Yuma pondered before answering, "I haven't tried it yet, but maybe?" He pressed his lips together, forming a line, but it reminded Harua of a cat's mouth. "I think as long as there's a recipe, I can do it."

"I like watching people bake," said Harua, eyes attached to his shoes, "it's fun and comforting. Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I'll watch baking videos."

Harua accepted the food Yuma offered him. He chewed slowly, counting in his head, and jumped a little in his seat when he realized Yuma was looking at him. "Uhm, Senpai …?"

"You look like a bunny," Yuma uttered matter-of-factly. He inched closer, eyes never leaving Harua's face. "Huh. I never realized how small your face is, Shigeta-kun."

With Yuma's face so close to his, Harua could feel his skin burning up, and he didn't know what became the cause. The weather, or Yuma's warm breath ghosting his cheeks? Harua put a hand on Yuma's face. "Stop it!" He pushed Yuma away. "People are looking!"

Yuma laughed, body shaking with Harua's hand still glued to his face. "What, are you shy? Boyfriends should be doin' this kind of thing."

"Well, not at school! You'd get us in trouble!"

"You're even cuter embarrassed, Shigeta-kun," he said in a singsong voice. Yuma leaned in to his touch, and the heat on Harua's face replicated the sun. "Like a stressed bunny."

"You're the one stressing me out." Harua lightly shoved Yuma's cheek before pulling his hand back. "Can I get my sweets now?"

"One more bite?"

"Senpai," Harua sighed, "I'm not a child. I'm fine."

The spoon Yuma held stopped in the air, on top of it a small mountain of rice and glazed chicken. Another topping was Yuma's sullen face—his eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting, and head tilted. Harua wanted to run away from the overwhelming feeling blooming inside of him, but he couldn't, so instead he engulfed the spoon with his mouth.

Yuma grinned. "Good bunny."

Harua almost choked on the chicken if he hadn't gripped the bench. He swallowed quickly, loud coughs following behind. Yuma gave him a bottle of water, which Harua gulped like a parched hyena. "Oi, oi, slow down!"

"Don't say things like that so casually, Senpai!"

"What?" Yuma cocked his head to the side. "Good bunny? It's a compliment, though?"

"Additional rule. Do not call me with endearments."

"Can I call you Haru-kun, then?"

"No."

"Harua-kun?"

"No."

"Harua?"

"No."

"C'mon!" Yuma clicked his tongue. "Your friends call you that."

"That's because they're my friends," Harua stated, arms crossed. He pointed at Yuma; the older boy stared at him, bewildered. "You … you pretty much skipped that level, Senpai."

"More reason to call you that, no?" Yuma bit his chicken. With a half-full mouth, he continued, "I'm your boyfriend."

"Don't talk while you're chewing, you might choke." He received a grimace in return, but Yuma complied and closed his mouth. Harua's eyes crinkled at the sight. That's cute. "You still need to earn it," he continued, "the nickname."

"You talk so weirdly, like you're in a drama or something," Yuma huffed out. He crossed his arms, lunch box swaying on top of an unsteady leg, and with a sulky voice, asked, "How do I earn it?"

He didn't know if it showed on his face, but Harua felt a glimpse of mischief passing by. Won't this be fun? Any kind of shyness he felt earlier had flown out the window, or hid somewhere, because Harua knew they would come back anytime later. Harua stole the candy from Yuma's lap and popped it into his mouth before he could do anything. "I don't know, Senpai," he said, a little lilt encasing his voice, "I guess you'll have to figure it out."

☆

Once they had finished lunch, they both settled for the story Yuma once proposed, and that was what Harua told Taki when he blocked him from getting up. He asked me out. I liked him too, so, well, I accepted him.

Unfortunately for Harua, Taki was sharp. He knew him too well, and deceiving him would be a difficult task. Taki followed his story with a train of logical questions ("But I've never seen you with him!" "When did you two even talk?" "How come you've never mentioned him to me at all?"). But luckily, Harua managed to dodge them just enough until Yuma came to pick him up. His best friend shot him an accusing look, which Harua replied with a shrug, a pat on the cheek, and a goodbye greeting.

"What did you two talk about?" Yuma asked, waving at Taki. He elbowed Harua's side gently. "That's Takayama-kun, right?"

"Yeah, but we call him Taki since there is another Riki." Harua pulled him closer by the arm, the distance between his lips and Yuma's right ear now a thin line. "He's a little suspicious of me. So … excuse me, Senpai."

Yuma opened his mouth, a question possibly sitting on his tongue, but instead a yelp came out when Harua grabbed his waist, decreasing the distance between their bodies, walking leisurely as if he didn't just seize his senior by the waist—something Harua had never done before. He could feel a slight fever crawling up his body, but fended it off by shaking his head. It had to be done, or else Taki would be asking more questions, he assured himself, reciting the sentence repeatedly in his head. This had to be done.

He only let go once Harua was certain Taki couldn't see them—or following them, although Harua knew he wasn't friends with a crazy person. "Sorry," Harua said meekly, "I … uhm, I didn't know what to do."

"You could've held my hands!" Yuma's face was flushed. He sighed loudly, taking a few steps back from Harua, moving closer to the wall. "You said you don't like skin ship!"

"Desperate time calls for desperate measures," Harua disputed despite his own hesitation. "Taki would only believe me if I did that!"

"Grabbin' me by the waist" —Harua noticed the flush on Yuma's cheeks had spread to his ears— "is a foul move!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable," he acquiesced, "I won't do that again."

Yuma's response was too soft for Harua to catch, but he could hear the whisper and couldn't hold the curiosity he had. "What did you say, Senpai?"

Again, an incoherent mumble Harua couldn't make out. He took two steps closer. "Senpai, I can't—"

"It's not like I hated it," Yuma confessed, a little louder this time, "it's whatever. I was just surprised."

Harua bit his lips. He didn't expect Yuma to look adorable with a coral flush painting his cheeks. It made Harua want to tease him, although he was confused where did the mischief keep coming from. He only knew the boy for one day—almost two. Yet teasing him came easily to his tongue.

"You did say boyfriends should do those kinds of things, though?"

The coral on Yuma's face deepened. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it, and sighed in defeat. "Whatever," he mumbled, "let's go."

"Where are we going?" Harua asked. He followed closely, watching as Yuma greeted a few students or gave them an acknowledging smile when they looked at him. "Hey, Senpai. Where are we going?"

Yuma took Harua's wrist in his hand. "To the convenience store," he said quietly, "I promised you I would buy you sweets at school and after, right?"

"It feels like you're just trying to give me a toothache now," Harua remarked, "I'm not complaining, though. It's just that you gave me candies and a cake roll earlier."

"You said you like sweets."

"I never said I didn't!"

"You're so weird."

"Hey!" Harua tugged his wrist, making Yuma stumble a little. "You keep saying I'm weird."

Yuma shrugged. "It's a compliment."

"How is that a compliment?"

The twinkle in Yuma's eyes glinted, and the left corner of his mouth lifted, snaggletooth peeking out from behind. "Guess you'll have to figure it out."

"Wha—" As though he could read Harua's mind, Yuma ran forward, leaving behind a trail of laughter which Harua chased with annoyance. "Don't use my words against me!"

☆

It had been a week since they fell into the same routine of eating together at lunch and hanging out after school ended. Harua couldn't figure out if Taki believed him—he still looked at him weirdly whenever Yuma visited their class or if Harua said he was going to visit Yuma's class, but he didn't press on the subject with any more questions, except the occasional queries about their meeting. Harua couldn't blame him. The two talked to each other about everything; it was obviously out of character for him not to tell Taki about Yuma. It was his fault to naively think a waist grab would convince his best friend.

Yuma, on the other hand, was adamant about not letting Harua tell Taki about their deal.

"Absolutely not!"

"He won't tell anyone," Harua argued, "trust me."

"I trust you," Yuma scoffed, "but I don't trust your friend. Heck, I don't even know him!"

"But I'm saying you can trust him, because he's my friend."

Harua had seen Yuma cross his arms thrice in 30 minutes. He counted it because Yuma appeared frustrated every time, and Harua couldn't stop himself from thinking how adorable his senior was, scowling with his cat-like lips. It was Harua's first time seeing Yuma in glasses today, although he wasn't confident they were real or merely a fashion item. Yuma shook his head, put his glasses on top of his head, and Harua felt as if he had received an answer to the question he had never asked.

"We're not tellin' anyone," Yuma objected, "'m not riskin' it, Shigeta-kun."

"Gosh, you're stubborn," he grumbled. Harua took a bite of his tart, the sweetness of the peach filling his mouth in an instant. "It's not like Taki personally knows Asakura-senpai."

"A no is a no."

Harua groaned. Another thing he had learned about Yuma from the last few days they had spent together was how bull-headed Yuma could be. He had a strong will and was determined to painstakingly follow his plan. Harua didn't have much say in it. Yuma would ask for his consideration, but if his answer didn't fulfill his expectations, it would be refused. Now, Harua didn't even bother to chime in unless Yuma looked distressed.

"Have you found out who Asakura-senpai's crush is, though?"

His question was answered by a frozen Yuma, whose grip visibly tightened on his spoon. Harua threw an accusing stare at him, eyes squinting—half because of the piercing sun, half because Yuma tried to look away. "Senpai."

"Say, the ice cream melts a little faster today, huh?"

"Senpai."

"How was your English homework, by the way?"

"You said you'll ask him!"

Yuma whined, the voice a little hoarse and sounding a bit like a cat. It started with a tiny nya and ended roughly. Harua began to wonder if it was only his imagination or if Yuma was actually a cat trapped in the body of a human. "I dunno how to start the conversation," he admitted, "Jojo never talked about it wimme!"

"You're helpless," Harua said, perhaps a little too quick and sharp, "you have two days until the schedule you made yourself, you know."

"You're so cold, Shigeta-kun." Yuma pressed his cheek to the table. "You're colder than this kakigori."

"I'm just reminding you," Harua said, shrugging lightly. He held Yuma's pleading gaze with his eyes, realizing he had begun to feel familiar with it. "He's your friend, not mine."

"I know, I know," he muttered, "but it's hard to ask him about it. I'm not only a friend, 'm also his ex."

"That surely complicates things."

Yuma buried his face between his arms, his sigh a muffled sound. He peeked at Harua, half of his face still hidden. "How do you speak about this kind of thing with Takayama-kun?"

Finding an answer was difficult, so Harua opted for a shrug. He never had a romantic relationship with Taki—they were too perfect as best friends for any of them to develop anything romantic. When they were seniors in middle school, Harua met Taki at a bookstore. They were reaching for the same book and ended up gushing about it in a cafe nearby. Ever since then, Harua had never experienced a day without Taki in his life. Harua took this into account. His best friend stayed as a best friend throughout the years they spent together. He didn't know much about the history Yuma had with Jo. Yuma never told him the whole story; Harua disliked crossing boundaries. Prying on other people's business wasn't his hobby, although sometimes his curiosity could lead him to places Harua wouldn't go without a weapon, like that one time he figured out his first love talked to him just to get closer to his friend.

Talk about history. "Do you want to try mine?"

Yuma raised an eyebrow, seemingly a little perplexed by the offer. "I thought you didn't want to share it?"

"You look like a stray cat. I feel bad."

"You brat," hissed Yuma without any bite behind the words. Harua moved his spoon closer to him. Yuma lifted his head a little, taking the spoon into his mouth, biting the edge of the spoon as he let go of it. "'s yummy."

"See?" Pride swelled in him. Harua grinned. "I told you the desserts here are good."

"But I was the one who recommended this place, though?"

"You only mentioned the name," Harua rebutted, "I told you their desserts are delicious to convince you."

"You're tryin' to take all the credits, Shigeta-kun," Yuma said, his tone ending with a little melody.

"I'm going to steal all your fruits if you keep saying that."

"Oi, you can't do that!" Yuma pulled his bowl to his side, wrapping it in a hug, his eyes throwing daggers at Harua. He bit at the ice, and it didn't take any longer than five seconds for Yuma to regret it. He squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shuddering. "Brain freeze!"

Harua laughed. "You're so silly."

"I can feel my brain freezin'," Yuma managed to say through gritted teeth, "that was a bad idea."

"Be careful, Senpai." Harua pushed his water to Yuma's side of the table. "We can't have you turning into ice here."

Yuma hummed half-heartedly before taking a big gulp of the room-temperature water. "The summer heat will melt me instantly."

"I'll keep you in a jar if you turn into a puddle," joked Harua, giggling slightly at the thought of a jiggly puddle of Yuma.

"Eh?" Yuma crossed his arms at the table, his body leaning forward. His smile was lopsided, his eyes wrinkled, and Harua knew he was about to tease him from how both his eyebrows were raised. "That's kinda romantic, Shigeta-kun. I might fall in love with you, y'know?"

Harua threw a piece of tissue at him, which Yuma caught successfully. "You shouldn't joke about something like that," he snorted, ignoring the heat slowly wrapping his face.

"You're the type to think of love as somethin' sacred?"

"Isn't it?" asked Harua, "I mean, well, I don't know about sacred." His voice lowered into a mumble as he turned his head away, chin resting on his hand. "But it's definitely something precious."

"Now." Harua couldn't see his face, but he could hear the smile in Yuma's voice. "That's cute."

"I can sense you're mocking me," he said.

"I'm not mockin' you," opposed Yuma, sounding offended, but Harua saw the amusement in his eyes once he looked at him, "I find it cute."

"Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"Nah, I charge for compliments," Yuma said, taking—stealing—a huge bite of Harua's tart, earning a playful glare from Harua, which he blissfully ignored. "I should've bought the tart."

"The kakigori is nice for the weather, though. It's getting pretty hot." Harua nudged around his mouth, tasting the bits of peach left. He nodded. "But peaches are the best for summer."

Yuma giggled. "They are summer fruits."

"What is your favorite fruit, Senpai?"

"I like kiwi," answered Yuma, "but I also wanted grapes, so I ordered a mixed one." He scooped a kiwi and a grape from his bowl, nudging Harua's bottom lip with his spoon. "Here, try it."

For a few seconds, he hesitated. Once in a while, Harua reflected on how close they had become in just a week. One of the thoughts would pass by at a time like this, when Harua indulged himself in what seemed like affection, but he recognized as probably just kindness. It didn't truly matter to him, yet Harua couldn't stop himself from wondering what other people thought of them. While they sat across from each other, occasionally spoon-feeding one another, did people see them as a couple? Had they fooled them like they fooled people in their school?

Harua could see his blushing cheeks from the reflection on the spoon. He shook his head. It must be the heat, he thought, trying to focus on the flavors festival going on in his mouth. The freshness of ripe kiwi and grape exploded in his mouth, leaving sweetness in its wake. Harua's eyes widened. He vigorously nodded, which invited a laugh from Yuma. "'s good, huh?"

"That," Harua paused, swallowing dramatically, "might have been the best kiwi and grape I've ever had."

"Is that permission to call you Harua-kun?"

Harua frowned. "How?"

"You said that was the best kiwi and grape you've ever had." Yuma bit the edge of his spoon, teeth clashing with the cold metal. Harua winced. The sound made him shiver. "I kinda earned it, didn't I?"

For the last couple of days, except on weekends, Harua had been on Yuma's side almost every time, except in classes and clubs. As it turned out, his senior enjoyed dessert as much as Harua. They would visit a different cafe every day after school, save for times when they had to attend club activities. It had been going for a week, and Harua wondered if it would go on for more than a month.

"Not yet," he answered, "you're not buying my nickname with that." Harua pointed an accusing finger at Yuma, who gawked like Harua had hurt his heart. "Besides, you haven't found out who Asakura-senpai's crush is. There is no way you've earned it."

"Dammit! And here I thought I was deservin' of it."

"You'd better try again," said Harua, amused, "but seriously, you need to find out quickly if you want things to go according to your plans, Senpai."

There, Yuma went again, whining with noises Harua had only heard from him. "It's so hard to make Jojo admit it, y'knooow."

If Yuma couldn't do it, there was no way Harua could either. He had never talked with Jo. The only time they talked was a week ago, when Yuma claimed Harua as his boyfriend. Harua sighed. "I guess we need to be more observant this time, then."

☆

Luck wasn't always his best friend—Harua had long accepted this and stopped gambling on fortune every time. It made things easier when he barely passed an exam. He would take it as a sign to study harder, not wail around, waiting for a miracle to come and change the score on his paper.

Yet somehow, luck arrived at his door at the most random time. Harua was painting outside during Art class. He and Taki chose to paint at the stairs facing the field, enjoying the slight breeze as it rained earlier. It was a little wet, and there were puddles around the field, but Harua, Taki, and a few more of their classmates didn't think much about it.

"How are things going with Nakakita-senpai?"

"We're doing well," Harua replied automatically, "dating. Like couples."

"Do you hold hands?" Taki asked. He shifted closer to him. "I mean, you did grab his waist."

"That's normal for couples!"

"Not at school!"

"There was literally no one else."

"I was there!?"

"Oh, hush. You don't count," Harua snorted, stroking another green line on his canvas, "it doesn't matter if you see it."

"You haven't introduced him to me," Taki said in a whispered voice. "Does he even know I'm your best friend?"

"Taki," Harua sighed, "it's only been two weeks. And yes, he knows. I told him."

Taki fell silent. When Harua looked over his shoulder, he was focused on his canvas, coloring something red. Then, Harua heard him. "You've never had a boyfriend, Harua."

"Well, not everyone can have a boyfriend."

"No, I just—" Taki put his brush down. His hands were smeared with different colors, but the paint had dried completely, and none of them smudged his face when he rubbed them. "I'm happy for you. I do. I just don't know it would feel pretty lonely," he confessed, his voice turning smaller and smaller with each word, "it feels like I'm losing my best friend."

Guilt rearranged Harua's guts like a clumsy child, pushing his heart up to his throat and kicking his stomach in a fit. He made his best friend lonely, and it was for a lie. Something Harua couldn't confess because he had promised Yuma to keep it to himself. What if one day, Taki finds out? The truth sat heavy on the tip of Harua's tongue. He swallowed it whole, not giving it any chance to find the exit. "I'm sorry," he managed to whisper, "I didn't realize you were lonely."

"Obviously. He keeps stealing you at lunch!"

"He's clingy," Harua said, "but I'll try to tell him."

"We don't even go home together anymore."

"That's because Nakakita-senpai likes sweets, so we've been … trying out new places, hunting for desserts."

"Gosh," Taki laughed, "you really like him, don't you?"

Harua frowned. "Where … what? What made you think that?"

"You keep making excuses for him," answered Taki, "maybe having a boyfriend is good for you."

"Hey!" Harua squawked, "I'm—what do you mean by that, you brat!"

"Brat? I'm only four days younger than you!"

"If it's not for the canvas, I would have tackled you."

"You're just scared because I'm stronger than you."

"You are not stronger than me," he sneered, "you just say that because you jumped higher than me in the last class!"

"Exactly. That's because I'm stronger than you."

When Harua was about to retort, that was when luck decided to bestow him her grace—there they were, Jo, blushing, and a guy with blond hair that Harua swore he had seen before. It took a few seconds before the familiar figure turned his face to him. He pushed Taki's face away, ignored his protest, and with a quiet gasp, came out of his mouth, "Maki-kun!"

☆

Missing Maki was a hard thing. First, his facial features had the hints of someone from another continent. Harua had learned, after talking with Naoi Rei, a senior from the Painting Club, that Maki had German, Japanese, and American blood in him. He was called Maki because his name was Hirota-Maus Riki, but his friends called him Puppy, because he resembled one, which directed Harua to his second point: Maki was loud. Not in a way that made your blood boil, but in a way you would find him endearing. Harua knew him because he visited his club room to ask questions. Ever since then, Maki had been a familiar face, always pulling him into a conversation every time they passed by each other.

When Harua saw him with Jo, he recognized him once he looked at his face. Blond hair shimmering under the summer sun, deep dimples you'd love to poke with a finger—not that Harua tried. Taki did, because he found them fascinating. Maki didn't complain and just giggled. Maybe it had something to do with both of their names being Riki.

"Maus Riki?"

Harua nodded. "From class 1-A. Apparently, he was also in the Manga Club. That's probably how they met."

Yuma hummed lazily, scooping his ice cream with no intention to eat it, even though it had begun to melt. This afternoon, they chose to try a new cafe near the station. Yuma heard about it from his classmates and asked—or forced, because he didn't get the chance to say anything—Harua to come along. Harua, head full of Asakura Jo and Maus Riki, said yes immediately. His "boyfriend" was confused as to why he didn't try to reject the idea, considering how Harua said he wanted to save money. But Harua waved his question off, and from Yuma's current expression, he must have found out why.

"I've never seen them together," Yuma mumbled, "how?"

No one would know if Yuma didn't—the two were almost inseparable, but maybe that was exactly why Yuma didn't know. They weren't merely friends, after all. Harua rested his head on the pillar next to him. It really is complicated. A conclusion slowly formed itself in his head: maybe, Jo deliberately kept his closeness and Maki a secret from Yuma, thus why he never saw them together. His friend-slash-ex made it that way.

"The two of them are in different classes, and you know how far apart the classes are in our school," Harua offered, although he wasn't fully sure his answer would help.

In return, Yuma gave him another non-committal hum. Without looking at his ice cream, he said, "I know, but regardless, I'm his best friend. Yet he never tells me about this … kind of thing."

Both of Harua's hands held answers. It was up to him to The power to choose laid on him. Should he tell Yuma about his assumption, or should he shrug it off? Harua knew how his response would hit Yuma, and he wasn't sure on how to lay it out. Instead of an answer, Harua asked, "Are you sure about this, Senpai?"

Yuma looked up from his bowl of ice cream. "About what?"

"Finding out more about Asakura-senpai and Maki," answered Harua, "I know you want to be a good friend, but you … well, you don't have to do this."

The smile Yuma gave—gentle, sweet, devastating, and ridiculously still cat-like—wrenched Harua's heart. He looked at him as if Harua were a child spouting something the adults had known since long ago, and his smile deepened. "I know that," he said softly, "I know."

Yuma sighed. "I mean … I've thought about it before, y'know. About this. I knew it'd feel … nah, I knew it'd make me feel terrible at one point." He took a deep breath, the words coming out slower than before. "But Jojo is my friend, and we were friends before we dated. So I just … I want him to be happy, though I know it'd kinda hurt."

Usually, Yuma's laugh would be high-pitched. It was the kind of laugh that pierced Harua's ears and rang for a while. This time, it sounded lower, and Harua couldn't help but notice Yuma's legs shaking the table. He kept the silence going, occasionally throwing his eyes back at Yuma after looking at anything but him. Yuma let out another sigh, and Harua—reluctantly, because he didn't know if Yuma wanted it—nudged his foot gently, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Do you think it's stupid?"

"Wanting your friend to be happy?" Yuma nodded. "Even though it hurt you?" The continuation earned a glare, but Harua grinned and shook his head. "A little, maybe. But, I mean, it came from a good place, and kindness isn't stupid." Harua paused, his gaze coming up to Yuma's face after focusing on his fidgeting fingers. "Although some people might be too kind for their own good."

Yuma's eyes twinkled. He chuckled, coming back to his usual devilish self. "You're saying I'm kind?"

"Now you just have to ruin it," groaned Harua, throwing a little tissue ball at the now-laughing Yuma, "I was just getting to the good part!"

"Bein' all sweet and emotional is just not us, Shigeta-kun," said Yuma, giggling, "we're far from that."

Harua gave him a scowl, but Yuma kept laughing, and he couldn't stop the smile from taking over his lips. He tried to cover it with the back of his right hand, telling Yuma to stop laughing because other people were looking at them, which only made Yuma laugh harder.

It took him three minutes to stop. With teary eyes, Yuma exhaled, "But seriously, 'm fine. Don't worry 'bout me."

"I'm not," responded Harua, although he had been trying to dislodge the doubt in his throat, constantly gulping down the glass of cold water in front of him, "I was just asking."

Harua wasn't sure if Yuma could notice the nervousness seeping into his voice, but if he did, he did an impressive job at ignoring him.

☆

"What's with your sudden interest in Maki-tan, anyway? You have a boyfriend, Rua-chan."

"It's for something else," he lied, "and you know him pretty well, right, Rei-senpai? Does he have a crush on anyone?"

"I'm not sure," Rei answered. She twirled the spaghetti on her plate, mumbling something to herself that Harua failed to catch. "Maki-tan is close with many people. He's the real social butterfly!"

Harua hoped Rei's words would surprise him, but none of them did, because he knew. It wasn't a secret to anyone that Maki had friended almost everyone at school, including the teachers and staff. "That's Maki-kun for you," he said, exhaling out a long sigh, "he's friendly."

Rei nodded. "He's a cute guy."

He turned back to his painting, stroking lazily, his mind still occupied by Maki and the possibility of him having a crush on anyone. Yuma decided that they should know more about Maki before he encourages Jo to pursue him, including his crush. Who would be better to ask than the walking yellow book of the school?

"Oh! I remember I saw him blushing a few days ago," Rei exclaimed. Harua's hand stopped, accidentally stroking a long red line that looked out of place. He immediately turned around, looking expectantly at Rei, who was closing her eyes. "But I was in a hurry, so I didn't see who. My girlfriend saw it, though, I think."

Harua waited for Rei to continue, but instead, she focused on her spaghetti while bobbing her head happily with every chew. He sighed. It was foolish to think Rei would give away the answer so easily.

A little annoyed, he asked, "Well, are you going to ask her?"

"Now, aren't you curious?" Rei's lips formed a sweet smile, which only made Harua shudder. He pushed his seat back, becoming aware, and Rei laughed at his reaction. "Rua-chan, I'm not dangerous!"

"The last time I tried to get information from you, you trapped me into saying yes to cosplaying!"

"Which you got out of," Rei pouted, "even though you'll look cute as Aira-chan."

"I am not doing a cosplay."

"'kay, 'kay! You're sooo strict." Harua watched warily as Rei took something out of her bag—a magazine with a name he had never seen. "What about modeling?"

"I'm not doing that."

"It's just modeling, and it will be casual-themed! Nothing serious, I swear." Rei opened the magazine on a table between them, tapping on one of the pictures. "Liz's uncle shot this, and he needed a model for the next edition."

Harua frowned. "But why me? Photographers have models they know well, right?"

"But he needs someone who is not a model," Rei explained, pointing a finger at Harua, "with a face of one. Why not you?"

Was he supposed to feel flattered? Harua stared at the page, analyzing the photo in silence. It did look like a casual photoshoot, with nothing grand or odd standing out. Except for the possibility of his face being on a magazine, Harua didn't see any harm in agreeing.

"Fine," he hesitantly agreed, "I'll go."

"Perfect! I'll text you the date and address, then," Rei said, her voice going up a pitch in joy, "oh, and bring Yuma-kun with you, 'kay?"

"Wait—Nakakita-senpai? Why?"

"Isn't it clear?" Rei's finger moved to another picture on the bottom of the next page, where two people stood in a position too intimate for a relationship without romance. Harua gulped. He just had to miss that before agreeing. "It's a couple photoshoot! You have to bring your boyfriend, Rua-chan. You two will be perfect for it!"

God, what had he done?

☆

Here he was now, waiting for Yuma to finish his session. Rei and Liz—her girlfriend—stood near the cameras, awestruck by Yuma's instincts in front of the lenses. Harua sat on one of the chairs, almost lifeless, most of his energy spent doing poses he never knew he would ever do.

(Before Harua could finish his devastating story, Yuma was already laughing hard. "You really signed a deal with the devil!"

"She's been trying to get me in front of the public for months," Harua murmured, "bet she's happy now that I agreed." He nudged Yuma's foot with his, adding, "If you don't feel comfortable with it, I'd just go alone."

"Nah." Yuma took a swig of water, nearly clearing what was left in his glass. "I'd love to, actually. I like the cameras.")

Maybe he wouldn't be as surprised if Yuma had told him about being a child model years ago. He only told him a few minutes before his turn, mentioning it casually as if he was telling Harua about how blinding the flashes could be. "Yeah, I was a model when I was a kid. Didn't I tell you?"

Yuma stood confidently in front of the cameras, not cowering despite the glaring light, and Harua couldn't help but feel admiration bleeding slowly inside him. He watched Yuma, half-studying and half-appreciating, wondering if Yuma would want to be a model for his next painting. The idea left a feeling in his stomach—something Harua didn't have the time to think about, because Rei was jogging up to him eagerly.

"Your boyfriend is amazing at this!" Rei beamed, "Yuma-kun is a natural. Why didn't you tell me sooner, Rua-chan?"

I didn't know either, Harua wanted to say. "We've only been dating for a while, Senpai."

"I guess." She took a seat next to him, their gaze directed to the same person—Yuma. "How are things between you two?"

"It's fine," came out of his mouth before he could stop it. An automatic response. "We're getting to know each other."

"Has it been a month?" Rei giggled. "I remember when Taki-chan told me about you and Yuma-kun dating. He couldn't believe it."

"He's offended because I didn't tell him the details." Not that he had any details to tell either. He sighed. "He thought you'd be able to fish it out of me."

"I tried, didn't I? But you're a closed vault."

"It's not my fault that I prefer to gatekeep my secrets."

"Well." Rei hopped from her seat, pinching Harua's cheek gently. "He's just worried, like any other best friend would when their best friend suddenly dated someone. But Yuma-kun is a sweet guy, so I'm sure Taki-chan has nothing to worry about."

Harua rubbed the phantom of Rei's fingers on his cheek. "I don't think he's that worried anymore now," he said, remembering the conversation they had last week, "they haven't met, though."

"Hey, that's the number one rule of relationships! Your best friend should meet your partner."

If the relationship wasn't fake, maybe. Harua fidgeted with his fingers, muttering under his breath, "I'm just … nervous." Of being found out. "I don't know if they'll get along."

"If they love you, they will," answered Rei, which only felt like a jab to his heart. Harua knew they would get along. Yuma and Taki shared a few traits that would help them to get along. He just wasn't sure it would be a good idea to introduce his fake boyfriend to his best friend, even though they had known a little bit about each other. Rei smiled softly when Harua nodded. "It's going to be your turn, Rua-chan. C'mon."

Albeit confused, Harua followed her. "I thought I was done?"

"Your solo session was done," Rei corrected, "but you still have the couple one to do. Look, Yuma-kun is wrapping up!"

It was only now that Harua truly took a look at Yuma. Both of them were styled in casual outfits—Yuma with black jeans that fell just below his knees, while Harua wore longer blue jeans, the hem falling perfectly above his feet. They had t-shirts on, but Yuma wore a tote bag, slung on his right shoulder. Harua repositioned the glasses slipping down his nose bridge. Yuma's shirt had nothing on but a blue cardigan wrapped around his shoulders on it. Cute, Harua thought, a smile playing on his lips. He'd never seen Yuma in casual clothes before.

"Shigeta-kun!" Yuma called while waving frantically to him. His snaggletooth resembled a fang from where Harua was standing. "Did you see me? I was cool, right?"

"It was so-so," Harua said, despite the blooming admiration in his heart, "you did look like a pro, though."

"Aaah, you're lyin'! I knew you were lookin' at me the whole time!"

Harua stuck his tongue out, earning the same action in reply. Rei giggled at them. "You two are adorable! I'm so happy you agreed to this."

"You basically trapped me," Harua reminded.

"Did I?" Rei pouted, clinging to Liz, who stood in front of a camera. They were on the terrace of a cafe, not a studio, because Liz's uncle wanted to capture the casual date experience through pictures. The cafe was tucked in the corner of a quiet street, but it wasn't too empty, so they had booked the terrace in advance. "I don't remember it."

Liz patted her girlfriend's cheeks, and Rei snuggled into the touch. Harua smiled at the sight. He moved closer to Yuma, who grinned when he noticed. "Want to be patted too?"

Harua merely elbowed him in place of an answer. Liz giggled. "You two get along so well. So cute."

"We're boyfriends, after all." Harua let out a little yelp when Yuma touched his styled hair, quickly dismissing his hand before he could make a mess out of it. "Hey!"

"Stop acting like you're taller than me!"

"'m taller than you."

"By an unnecessary gap," he remarked, "and don't mess my hair. We still have to be in front of the camera."

"Oh, yeah. The couple shot." Yuma muttered. "The weather's nice, should we do it now?"

"They're still checking things out, so I guess we'll have to wait a while," Liz said.

"Should we order something? It's quite hot," Rei offered.

The rest agreed, and they went inside to order something. Yuma ordered a strawberry matcha latte, while Harua ordered a peach tea. Liz ordered a latte and Rei ordered a strawberry sparkling drink. They decided to order some beverages for the crews before sitting down near the AC, shaking the summer heat off their bodies.

"That totally hit the spot!"

"It's sooo hot outside," Liz sighed, "and they said we'll have to wait for around an hour, since they also want to catch the evening light. Is that okay?"

Harua nodded. "I don't mind. How about you, Senpai?"

"I don't mind either." Yuma shrugged. "I don't really have curfew. 's fine."

Liz excused herself, and Rei grinned at them after the door hindered her view of her girlfriend. "This kind of feels like a double date, doesn't it?"

"Now that you mention it, it does." Yuma took a sip of his drink, nodding as if he had approved of it. "'s craaazy good."

"This is one of my favorite cafes! It's pretty new, though, so it's not that well-known yet." Rei put a spoonful of cake in her mouth. "That's why I recommended it."

"No wonder you and Shigeta-kun get along well, Rei-chan. You two like sweets, huh?"

"That's how I and Ruru-chan met!" Harua smiled at the way Rei clapped her hands. "We were lining up for a new crepe place together, and got our orders mixed up. I think it was because of how busy the shop was. Then, we met again at the club."

"You kind of manipulated me into joining, actually."

"Now, that's a lie. I didn't manipulate you. I just encouraged you to join the club."

"Be nice to your senior, Shigeta-kun," Yuma said, "she's literally the sweetest."

"Listen to your boyfriend, Rua-chan! Isn't he the kindest ever?"

Harua grumbled, muttering words around the straw in his mouth, "You two are just ganging up on me."

Yuma laughed, followed by Rei, and although he tried, Harua failed to stop the laugh from slipping out of his mouth. It slowly turned into a grin while Harua watched his two seniors joke with each other, completely ignoring the fact that he had become their target again. Liz came in to the three of them giggling, and asked with amusement lathered on her voice, "What are you laughing at?"

"Ruru-chan," Rei answered, bumping shoulders with her girlfriend once she had sat down. "These two are so cute."

"Rei was so happy when you agreed, Harua-kun." Liz smiled when Rei sounded a small complaint. "It's true, though? You were so excited about it!"

"Well, I did have to make a deal first," uttered Rei. "I guess we should talk about it now."

"The one about Maki?" asked Liz. Rei nodded. Harua leaned forward, while Yuma stayed still, not moving an inch from his position. "Well, it was Jo-kun."

"Asakura Jo?"

"The one and only," Liz answered. "My friend from the Manga Club said they're getting chummier these days! I wonder if they like each other?"

"They'd look cute together," Rei commented. She reached for the spoon, giving Liz a bite of her cake. "But I've never seen them together at school, except a few times."

"My friend said they're most likely to be together in the club room," said Liz after swallowing the cake.

"Ooh, the private kind of couple? Cute!"

As the two chattered away, Harua noticed how Yuma hadn't said anything since Jo's name came out. His fists curled beside him—lips tight, shoulders tense. He looked zoned out. Harua was about to call his name when Rei asked him a question, fishing out a jolt from Yuma.

"Didn't you and Jo-kun date, Yuma-kun?"

Yuma blinked. "Uh," he stumbled, "yeah. Yeah, we did. Only a bit, though. Figured we're better as friends."

Harua couldn't decipher the expression on Yuma's face. He smiled, but it looked shallow—it wasn't the smile Harua had been familiarized with in the last few weeks they spent together. It didn't reach his eyes. But Yuma removed the expression quickly before Harua could say anything, adding, "Well, that's just how it is when you date your best friend! But you two are different, huh?"

Liz laughed and said something about they weren't really best friends since they were both in love from the start. Harua couldn't focus. Instead, his eyes kept darting to where Yuma's hands were—fixing on how they had turned into fists, fingers curled into the palms. Harua looked at his own, clenching and unclenching his left hand. Slowly, he snuck it under the table, brushing it against Yuma's hand softly before latching their fingers together one by one.

To his surprise, Yuma tightened the hold. When he stole a glance, Harua realized Yuma was engrossed in Liz's story, occasionally laughing along with Rei. He smiled, giving Yuma's hand a little squeeze, receiving a gentle one in return.

Time passed by them as they laughed and spoke, the topic of Jo and Maki left behind. Harua listened as his seniors shared their concerns with each other—things about universities and exams. His fingers were no longer entwined with Yuma's, but the way their hands brushed against each other every few minutes invited the funny feeling back to Harua's stomach. The cold steel of Yuma's rings occupied his mind, and suddenly he was aware of everything—how Yuma's pinky would slightly link itself to Harua's little finger, how neither of them moved for five seconds too long when their hands brushed, or how Yuma would absent-mindedly reach for his hand while talking, as if it had became a habit since forever.

The ghost of Yuma's hand lingered on his skin even when they went back outside, haunting Harua like a missing puzzle piece he once lost.

☆

"Thank you so much for helping my uncle, Harua-kun, Yuma-kun!"

"We had fun," Yuma replied, grinning ear to ear. "It was nice to be back in front of the camera again after years."

"You should consider it, Yuma-chan! You were reaaally great," praised Rei. She clung to her girlfriend's arm, beaming. "The crews wouldn't stop talking about how visually perfect you two are together."

Harua laughed. "I don't know if I did a good job, but that makes me glad."

"Trust me, you were made to be in front of the cameras too. " Rei winked. "I've been telling you for so long!"

"I guess Harua-kun prefers to be behind the camera. I mean, he's a painter, right?"

Hearing Liz's question, Harua nodded. "I am … kind of?"

"Nah, you're just discrediting yourself," retorted Yuma. "Rei-chan would probably agree wimme."

"Like, Ruru-chan, you're amazing. Give yourself more credits!" A soft sigh escaped Rei's lips. "See, Yuma-kun. He's always like this."

What followed was a stream of praises that successfully turned Harua's head into a whirlwind. He pushed Yuma forward, ignoring his protests, and said to Rei, "You're going to be late to your movie if you don't get going now, Senpai."

Rei gasped. "Ah, right! Baby, come on. We're going to be late!"

"Wait, Rei—" Liz sighed as she watched her girlfriend run in the direction they were heading. "I guess I'll see you two in school on Monday. I'll text you once the pictures are out!"

"Please do," said Yuma. "Have fun on your date, Liz-chan."

"You too," Liz replied, wiggling her eyebrows slightly before going after Rei, who was already pretty far away. Harua laughed as he caught Liz's shouts in subtle voices. He turned to Yuma only to see that he had been looking at him.

"What is it?"

"Thank you."

The sincerity in Yuma's voice startled him. Harua faked a cough. "You don't have to thank me."

"I didn't expect you to notice," Yuma continued. "I mean, well, I didn't really notice either. But you did, y'know, so … this is kinda out of character for me, but, well, thank you."

Harua shrugged. "As I said, you don't have to thank me. It was nothing."

"It was nice of you."

"You're talking as if I've never been nice to you," he jokingly complained. Harua expected a bite back, but Yuma looked dejected instead. "Senpai," he called, "you've been sad ever since Liz-senpai mentioned it."

Yuma tittered. He reached for his tote bag, repositioning it although Harua could hardly see any difference. "'m just sad when I figured Jojo is probably hiding this away from me, that's why he's rarely seen with Maki-kun. He doesn't want to hurt my feelings."

This was bound to come sooner or later. Harua threw his gaze on the street before them, counting pedestrians who were crossing the road in a group. Something akin to annoyance grew in him, and he gripped his bag to stop his fist from curling. "He still did it," he said, "by doing this. He probably knew this would hurt you too."

"I wasn't supposed to know, was I?" Yuma laughed. "But 'm nosy as heck, so now I know. I brought this upon myself."

"It's not your fault," Harua refuted. "You wanted him to be happy."

"Isn't Jojo doing the same thin'?"

"Senpai," Harua breathed out. Stop defending him. You're hurt. At least you won't hurt him by doing this. He shook his head. "Let's eat something before we go home."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Anything," Harua answered. "I want to refill my snacks stack too."

Yuma followed behind him as Harua walked away. "You said you wanted to save money!" He clawed on Harua's shoulders, locking his neck with his arm. "Don't buy unnecessary snacks with the money you just got, Shigeta-kun!"

"You—let me go!"

"Promise me you'd stop buyin' unhealthy snacks first!"

"I can't—yes, yes! Whatever!"

"Promise me first!"

"I promise!" Harua shouted, hitting Yuma's arm weakly. He exhaled loudly as Yuma stood proudly in front of him, kitty-like smile turning into a subtle smirk. "You murderer."

"You'd thank me once you're forty," Yuma uttered. "Let's eat a proper dinner, and then go home."

Yuma began to talk about his favorite American diner not far from the area, where they serve the best ice cream he has ever tasted. Harua responded absentmindedly, walking along beside Yuma as their hands stayed near each other, almost touching. He couldn't fend off the bizarre feeling tucked somewhere in his stomach. He wanted to stop this. He ought to tell Yuma to stop before this could hurt him any further, but he didn't know what kind of boundaries they had. This was never settled in the deal. Would Harua step too far if he forced Yuma to stop?

"You're not listenin' to me," Yuma mumbled, grabbing Harua's thumb with his pinky. "Shigeta-kun, what's wrong?"

In Harua's eyes, the world gradually disappeared until there was only Yuma in front of him. He had the look of genuine worry in his eyes, with his eyebrows knitted together, and his lips turning upside down. Harua parted his own. He wanted to talk about it. He knew he should bring it up. Harua could never completely understand what it meant to be Yuma—how it would feel like to see someone you once deemed as your lover falling in love with someone else. It was something unimaginable. The words scrambled away from his tongue every time Harua found his voice. Yuma didn't move his eyes from him, eyes a little expectant. Out of the blue, Harua felt as if he had lost his vocabulary. He couldn't think, couldn't string a proper sentence, only endlessly muttering uhm and ah like a baby learning to talk.

"I'm just … I'm just hungry," Harua stumbled, "we haven't eaten anything. We should eat."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"Hey!" Yuma pinched his cheeks. "I didn't say that!"

"You implied it."

"Not my fault you think I always see you like that," Yuma sneered. "Whatever. Let's go."

Harua didn't say anything when Yuma linked their arms together. He walked beside him, keeping up their paces so no one would get left behind. He muttered, "So, what's next?"

"Of what?"

"The plan," he stated. "We knew now that Asakura-senpai likes Maki-kun, and he probably likes him back. What's our next step?"

Yuma blinked. He didn't stop, but Harua detected his steps slowing down while he pondered the answer. "I guess it should be makin' them go on a date, huh?"

Among Yuma's words, woe crept in. Harua wasn't sure if he had heard it wrong. Maybe it had been his imagination, since he couldn't stop replaying Yuma's clenched fists and crestfallen expression in his mind. Perhaps Harua was looking too far into it. But one thing Harua was certain of was that, regardless of the deal they had made, he would like to stay with Yuma while he was busy playing cupid for his ex—despite whatever would come with it.