Work Text:
Mobu swears at times that he could see Kikuchi’s shadow lingering by the walls.
He doesn’t know why, but he swears he does. He also swears that he could smell a citrus scent linger somewhere whenever he sits down in his preferred seat before lectures. He also swears that he could hear his soft voice every time he stands near a fax machine. He doesn’t know how, but Mobu swears that Kikuchi was haunting him, just like the words written on the letter he always went back to.
On a normal day, Mobu would have just forgotten this moment in favor of avoiding another flag. He would be drinking another can of beer, indulging himself in some “reading” (No, Mobu, reading BL is not research). Maybe he can take some time out of his day to listen to his brother go on about his boyfriend.
But no. Ever since Kikuchi went abroad a year ago, he finds himself in class, his bag on the ground in hopes that his seatmate would return.
He never anticipated to be so… infatuated fixated over Kikuchi ever since his seatmate left some chocolate in his bag for Valentine’s Day. Hell, that infatuation fixation got worse when he felt the warmth of his seatmate’s back from the day he carried his drunken ass home. He remembers that day when they talked by the fax machine. Kikuchi’s confession remains to linger in his mind.
And if it wasn’t the confession, then it was the day Mobu ran after him before the flight. He remembered how the other’s soft eyes, glowing. He remembered how surprised Kikuchi was at the fact he went searching for him. He remembered when their lips almost touched, but it never did.
Mobu looks around the classroom. It was February, couple’s season. Another season where others get set up, make out, and fall in love. The favored season for any BL manga. But to him, it's just flags and noise to avoid. The noise gets overwhelming sometimes, so Mobu closes his eyes as he tries to drown it out.
But even with his eyes closed, all he could see was Kikuchi's soft eyes.