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Chapter Text

When the professor finally hit the last slide of his PowerPoint presentation, Akaza sighed in relief. The people around him slammed their notebooks shut in varying degrees of exasperation or eagerness to finally jump into the weekend ahead. Akaza finished scribbling down the last note and gave it a skeptical glance, inwardly asking himself whether he would still be able to decipher his writing after a few days had passed. If he were clever, he would sit down and copy them later, and maybe even start summarizing while doing so. But he already knew that once he was home, nothing in the world could bring him to touch this subject again before he had to.

As if the professor had read his mind, he looked up at Akaza and furled an eyebrow. Akaza quickly got up, packed his things, and stuffed them into his bag. No time to ponder, he had to flee the accusatory gaze. Though he did ask himself why the professor had zoned in on him, of all students. Perhaps because unlike the other students, Akaza was in this lecture for the second time - and with his poor luck, out of all the professors this one maybe was the only one with solid facial recognition skills. Well, that made for another reason why he should study harder for this subject. He certainly did not want take the class a third time, his second attempt at the exam had to succeed. Twice was one too many already.

Akaza felt the professor’s eyes burning into his back until he had reached the exit of the auditorium. The two students before him slung the big doors open and he slipped through behind them, heaving another sigh when he breathed in the slightly less stale air in the vestibule. One more door separated him from his freedom - one more door and a familiar face.

Akaza’s heart sunk and he slowed down. There was no reason for his roommate to be here, none at all. And yet, there he was, sitting on one of the metal benches, legs crossed elegantly. For a second, Akaza hoped that he was waiting for someone else, but the radiant smile spreading on his roommate’s face shattered that hope.

“Douma,” Akaza greeted him when he reluctantly stepped closer. “What are you doing here?”

Douma elegantly rose to his feet and pulled Akaza into a tight hug before he could escape. Akaza tolerated the hug for exactly two and a half seconds before he freed himself and stared at Douma who now smiled at him. “Do I need a reason to pick up my bestie from class?” he asked innocently to which Akaza only raised an eyebrow. Douma grinned and shrugged. “Fine, you’re right. I need some help carrying heavy stuff and since you’re the muscles to my brain…”

Akaza sighed. “Got it. And I suppose I don’t get to go home first?”

“Nope,” Douma said and linked arms with him, steering him towards the door leading outside. “But think positive, you’ll get something out of it, too!”

Akaza shot him a suspicious glance. It was not the first time Douma said that to him and the last time had resulted in quite the nasty muscle sore and recurring nightmares of the monstrosity Douma had made him carry into their apartment under the guise of needing a new wardrobe. “Yet another adventure with my bestie?” he asked sarcastically.

But as he should have known, the sarcasm went straight over Douma’s head who now nodded enthusiastically. “You’re right,” he said happily. “But that’s not what I meant. That means, you’re getting two things out of it!”

Akaza contemplated asking but before he could, Douma dragged him out of the building into the open and within a second, they were fighting against the ever-growing wind that tried to push them back into the lecture hall. Leaves tumbled through the air and when Akaza opened his mouth to say something, one of them hit him like a missile. After that, he decided to keep his mouth closed, for the sake of both his pharynx and his dignity.

Under different circumstances, the walk from this end of campus to the other did not take more than ten minutes, four flights of stairs and a hike through the concrete landscape that called itself university. But today, the weather made for a rather unpleasant experience when they had to jump over puddles and had to bypass one staircase altogether because it was flooded. All the while, the wind kept rustling through their hair and clothes, tugging and tearing at them. And to make matters worse, the wind and rain were ice cold. While they jogged from one cover to the other, Akaza silently prayed that the rough fabric of his backpack would protect his laptop from the rain. It had come with a leather sleeve but Akaza really doubted the sturdiness of that thing and thus, his nerves were on edge by the time they finally reached the supermarket at the other end of campus.

“Phew,” Douma said and shook his whole body, splattering lost raindrops in every direction, once they stood in the entry area of the supermarket. Akaza jumped back and glared at Douma while wiping the stray water droplets away.

“What are we doing here?” he asked a bit more aggressively than he had planned on. “I thought we were heading for the bus?”

Douma shrugged elegantly and smiled at him. “Well, we are. Kinda. But first, we have to grab some stuff.”

Akaza felt the color fading from his face when images of Douma’s most recent kitchen disasters flashed before his eyes. “Are you planning to cook another fancy dish?” he asked and heard his voice breaking at the mere thought.

Douma turned around and eyed him curiously. “I’m afraid, I’m not,” he said apologetically, taking no notice of how Akaza’s legs almost gave in from relief. “Unless you have a specific wish?”

“No!” Akaza gasped. Then, he took a deep breath and repeated, “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

Douma kept his colorful eyes on him for another moment, then he smiled innocently and motioned for Akaza to follow him. “Okidoki,” he said cheerfully. “That’s good, because I think we’ll have our hands full already.”

Akaza just nodded and followed him, still relishing in his relief. Only when Douma started leading him through the isles, his words really sunk in. Akaza’s heartbeat ramped up again and he glanced at the isles around them, trying to gather clues of what Douma was up to this time. They passed the vegetables, fruit, meat, and canned food isles without Douma even looking left or right and very slowly, a suspicion grew in Akaza’s mind. He sighed and quickened his pace until he walked next to Douma.

“It’s alcohol, isn’t it?” he asked, and Douma turned to him, nodding happily. Akaza sighed, something he did quite often when Douma was around. Alcohol, that explained why Douma needed Akaza to carry it for him. Douma did not drink often, but when he did, he went hard on it. Unluckily, Douma also had an abnormally high tolerance for alcohol which Akaza decidedly did not have.

Douma pranced the last steps and then came to a halt, leaning his head back to marvel at the enormous shelf full of every alcoholic drink anyone could wish for. Akaza reluctantly stepped closer and skeptically mustered the shelf. Liquids in every color – and price – under the sun, bottles of various shapes and sizes, some of them bigger than should be allowed.

“Sooo,” Douma started and looked at Akaza excitedly. “What do you want?”

Akaza returned his look, slightly puzzled. He wracked his brain whether he had said anything that Douma could be referring to, but nothing came to mind. “Why would I want something?” he asked finally.

Douma’s smile widened in a way that sent a shiver running down his spine. “Because you’re accompanying me to the party, silly. And we all know that parties and alcohol go together, so I want you to choose something you will drink.”

Akaza grimaced. There it was, there was the catch. He had not even known about a party and much less that he was also invited. But that was no surprise with Douma, as he tended to drag Akaza with him anyways. “You don’t need alcohol to have fun,” Akaza said, for good measure. “And I can’t come, I have to study.”

Douma pulled a face and shook his head rather emphatically. “First off, I know. We have lots of fun without alcohol, remember? And second, you can study another day.” He paused, sensing Akaza’s reluctance. His face turned softer and when he continued, he sounded almost pleading. “Come on, Akaza. I know you’ve been working hard, but you need a break from time to time. Just to get out and see something else, just for a few hours. Pretty please?”

Akaza could have slid his hands into his pockets, but instead he just watched when Douma grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Douma was not wrong, after all. He had indeed been studying a lot, so much so that he felt exhausted and even disgruntled most of the time. Maybe a party would be a nice change of pace, after all. He felt himself slowly nodding. “Fine,” he said hesitantly. “I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Douma threw his hands into the air before wrapping his arms around Akaza yet again. His enthusiasm was both suffocating and infectious and Akaza felt himself starting to grin too. “Then let’s get the finest selection for tonight!”

Akaza nodded and Douma dove happily into the task of finding those kinds of alcohol that were both drinkable and cheap enough for them. Akaza was a bit less crazy over this, as long as it did not taste horrible, he was down for it. Thus, he let Douma do his thing and aimlessly wandered along the isle, vaguely intending to grab some snacks they could bring as well. When he reached the snack isle, he paused and indecisively looked down both sides of it. Sweet or savory?

While he was still trying to decide which side to wander down first, laughter from a bit away caught his attention. He looked up and saw two figures coming closer. One of them was so tall that the head was visible over the isle. Its white hair looked disheveled from the wind outside and Akaza asked himself how anyone could grow tall enough to be higher than the isle itself. Fascinated, he followed the bobbing head with his gaze and realized way too late that it was heading for him. Before he could react, two men turned the corner and Akaza froze at the sight of the second person.

Right in this moment, he laughed again, a light, melodic laugh that made Akaza’s skin tingle. The yellow hair that fell into his face ended in red tips and when he brushed a strand of it aside, an electric impulse ran through Akaza’s body and made his muscles tense up. He knew this face, in fact, it was even too familiar for his liking. He quickly stepped back, trying to dive into the depths of the supermarket before he could see him.

But before he could even take more than one step, Kyoujurou looked up and their eyes met. His laugh still etched into his face, his golden eyes widened ever so slightly. For a second, the world stood still. Then, Kyoujurou blinked and Akaza freed himself from his trance. He whirled around and moved way too quickly. He had to force himself to slow down, to not seem like he was running away, but he still felt those golden eyes on his skin, even when he had already put a few rows between them.

When he finally felt like he had gotten to a safe distance, Akaza came to a halt, his breathing still elevated. He looked down at his hands in bewilderment and stuffed them into his pockets to stop them from trembling. He knew Kyoujurou, knew him too well. They were not friends, of course not, and especially not after an incident that happened about a year ago. Akaza’s face started feeling hot when the unwelcome memories came back. It had been a cold day too, kind of like the one still raging outside. Coldness, a closed bookstore, and a fuzzy orange monstrosity of a hoodie that Akaza still sometimes saw before his eyes when he could not sleep. And Kyoujurou, always him, and that damn smile of his when he looked down at Akaza and said something that had burnt itself into his mind.

Since then, Akaza had given his darndest best to avoid Kyoujurou, to avoid even thinking about him. Of course, that had proven to be futile. Night after night, he had lain awake and asked himself what Kyoujurou had meant. And after endless pondering, he had finally realized that Kyoujurou had made fun of him all along. He was just better than others at hiding his scorn. But he had made a fool of Akaza and he was fairly sure that Kyoujurou was still joking about it to this day.

Without even noticing, Akaza clenched his fists and glared into the direction where he had seen Kyoujurou and his friend. Not again, he decided. He had managed to avoid Kyoujurou for a whole year and he would not let a random supermarket encounter ruin that progress.

“Uh, Akaza?” He whirled around and a slightly startled Douma took a quick step back, almost bumping into the cart full of alcohol he was pulling with him. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, couldn’t be better,” Akaza growled, ignoring Douma’s puzzled look. He aggressively ripped a few bags of chips from the shelf next to him and threw them into the cart.

“Okaaay,” Douma said slowly, watching him. Then, he softly shook his head and the usual smile returned to his face. He pointed at the card proudly and said, “I did a good job. What do you think, is that enough?”

Akaza sized the heap of bottles up and tilted his head. “You know what?” he said grimly. “Let’s get a few more.”

Chapter Text

Going to the supermarket right after Akaza’s class proved to be a shit idea. They had stacked up on alcohol and snacks, but instead of carrying them right to the party, they dragged them through the rain back to their apartment first. After all, they had several hours to bridge before the party started. And after their trip through wind and rain and after a day stuck in the lecture hall, Akaza wanted nothing more than a shower. So, a bad idea overall, and on their way home, Akaza had not grown tired of telling Douma so.

When they finally reached their apartment and stumbled in through the door, almost tripping over their heap of bags, Douma excused himself a tad bit quickly. He hastily slipped into his room and closed the door behind himself, bringing a safe distance between him and Akaza who was still in a decidedly bad mood. And now that he could not reproach Douma anymore, he was left to his own devices which consisted of a very long, very hot shower.

When Akaza finally turned the shower off and wrapped himself in his favorite towel, he felt a bit better. The rain was still pattering against the windows but now that he was inside and could slip into dry, warm clothes, that did not bother him anymore. If anything, it set the perfect mood for what he would do until they had to leave again. And when he walked back to his room, he even noticed a little pep in his step.

In his room, he went through his wardrobe and fished his favorite sweater and some comfortable pants out. Once he had changed into them, he slung his towel over his desk chair, too lazy to walk back to the bathroom immediately. Then, he finally turned to the most beloved part of his room – his book shelf. Neatly organized, sorted by theme and author, his books greeted him with their characteristic smell. He ran his fingertips over their spines and marveled at them for a moment before he decided on one. He gently pulled it out of the row and walked over to his bed. He pressed the book to his chest protectively when he made himself comfortable on his blanket, his head propped against the wall. And with a content glance to the rainstorm outside, he opened the first page and started reading.

The hours flew by without him even noticing it. When Douma finally knocked against his door, still a bit more tentative than usual, it took Akaza a moment to come back from the story he had dove into. And with his mind still full of vivid images, he even forgot to sound grumpy when he called out, “Yeah?”

The door opened quietly and Douma popped his head in. His light hair was dry again and he looked different than before. After a second, Akaza noticed the glittery eyeshadow that only enhanced the colors of Douma’s eyes. “We should get ready now,” Douma said softly.

Akaza sighed and gently set his book down on his nightstand. “It’s fine, I’m not pissed anymore,” he said with a half-grin, and Douma heaved an enormous sigh of relief. “Give me five minutes, then we can head out.”

Douma nodded eagerly and closed the door behind him. Akaza could hear his footsteps prancing away, presumably back to his bedroom where he had probably been trying on different outfits for at least half an hour now. For Akaza, the clothing choice was easier. Where Douma loved to dress up and try his hand on make-up and sometimes also different hairstyles, Akaza preferred comfortable over fancy clothing. And thus, he changed into his most comfy jeans and his compromise sweater.

After Douma had complained about his simple outfits for a few months, Akaza had reluctantly allowed him to gift him a sweater of Douma’s choosing as a middle ground. And to his surprise, Douma had actually decided on one that was both elegant and to Akaza’s liking. It was a close fitting, black sweater that hugged his upper body, leaving not much of his build to the imagination. When the light fell on it in the right way, the myriads of rhinestones made it sparkle like a sky full of stars. While Akaza usually would not wear anything that glistened, this sweater was an exception for special occasions. And since he knew it would make Douma happy, he decided to wear it tonight.

With a last glance at his room, Akaza switched off the light and stepped into the hallway. “I’m ready,” he called out while grabbing his raincoat and slipping into his shoes.

Douma danced out of his room and his eyes lit up when he caught a glimpse of the compromise sweater. “You’re wearing it,” he cheered and beamed at Akaza. “It looks amazing on you!”

Akaza grinned and asked himself whether it was the shiny rhinestones or the fact that Douma himself had chosen the sweater that made him so enthusiastic about it. He accepted the compliment with a graceful nod and took the time to in turn muster Douma. It was no surprise that he had managed to turn himself into an idol and Akaza already knew he would steal more than one heart at the party. “You look beautiful,” he said earnestly and smiled when Douma blushed. “I love your make-up, it turned out really well.”

For a moment, Douma’s face softened and he looked almost vulnerable. Then, his usual cheerful smile returned and he hugged Akaza from the side. “Thanks! This will be a great night, bestie!”

Akaza tolerated the hug for a few seconds, then he gently wriggled himself free and nodded to the mountain of alcohol they had to carry. He had this vague inkling that he would regret adding even more bottles to Douma’s pile in a few minutes, but now they had it here and since they did not drink outside of the occasional party, it did not make sense to leave some of the bottles behind.

Douma followed his gaze and started to grin. Then, he pulled two large backpacks from somewhere behind the coats and proudly presented them. Akaza tilted his head and nodded. That was indeed a good idea. That way, they could carry at least some of the weight on their backs instead of in bags.

Together, they started placing bottles and the snacks they had bought in the backpacks. Unfortunately, they filled up way too quickly and when both backpacks were full to the brim, they still had quite the selection waiting on the floor. With a sigh, Akaza grabbed a sturdy bag and started loading it up too. When they were finally done, they had two more bags, making it three in total. And of course, Douma grabbed the lightest one and shot him a mischievous grin. “Since you’re the strong one, I suppose you’ll be fine carrying the other two?”

And since Akaza was indeed the more muscular one of them, he just sighed in resignation and took on the heavy bags without further protest. Hopefully the party was not too far away.

*

The upside was that it had stopped raining and aside from the occasional puddle, they did not have to fear getting wet. The downside, however, was the fact that they had been walking for at least twenty minutes already and contrary to Douma’s assertions, they had not reached the location of the party yet. In fact, Akaza’s muscles grew increasingly sore and in about the same speed, Douma’s face clouded with concern. His gaze buzzed between the street signs around them and his phone where he frantically switched between a messenger and a map, but so far, Akaza did not feel like they had made any progress.

“I thought you know the address,” Akaza said, not for the first time. Had the ground not been covered in puddles, he would have set down the heavy bags to give his arms some time to recover.

“I mean,” Douma mumbled absentmindedly while scrolling through messages again, “I didn’t say I know the address itself. I just said I know where the party is.”

Akaza furled an eyebrow and gave Douma a pointed look. “Well, where is it?”

Douma shrugged helplessly. “Close, I think,” he said and looked up at the street sign before them again as if it could have changed in the few seconds he had looked away. “We’re almost there, at least we should be.”

Akaza groaned and fought off the impulse to shake Douma. “You’ve been saying that for at least ten minutes now. Be honest, are we lost?”

Douma froze. Then, he slowly turned around and a contrite expression crept onto his face. Akaza sighed, that was all he needed to know. He searched the ground for a relatively dry spot and set the bags down carefully. Then, he rubbed his aching arms and shook his head. “Great. So, what do we do now?”

Douma grimaced and shot one last glance at his phone before he shoved it back into his pocket. “I don’t know,” he said, looking crestfallen. “Maybe we can …”

He trailed off and Akaza closed his eyes for a moment. Douma had already tried texting and calling the person who had invited him but of course, they had not picked up. Probably due to the fact that the party had already started. Akaza was just about to suggest going back home, when he noticed Douma perking up. He stared at something to their right and when Akaza followed his gaze, he froze. He reached for Douma but his fingers only grabbed air as Douma had already started moving. He frolicked towards the two figures on the other side of the street and before Akaza could yell at him to stop, he had already approached them.

“Hi,” he heard Douma say, “I know you from class, I think. Are you also going to Makio’s party?”

Everything inside Akaza screamed and he contemplated turning around and running away before they could notice him. But his body was still frozen solid when he heard the tall, white haired guy reply, “Yeah, we’re heading there, too. I’m Tengen, by the way, and this is Kyoujurou.”

Akaza struggled against his own body, pleading his legs to move. Through the blood rushing in his ears he heard Douma reply cheerfully, “Nice to meet you guys. I’m Douma, and the guy over there is my best friend, Akaza.”

Akaza stared down at his feet and hoped the ground would open and swallow him whole, everything to avoid this encounter. But the ground stayed ruthlessly solid and even echoed the three sets of steps coming closer. Douma’s voice trembled with relief and excitement when he said, “Akaza, I found two guys who know the way. Say hi!”

Two voices greeted him and since it did not seem like he would drop dead to save himself, Akaza forced himself to look up. Tengen was way taller than him and looked like he did bodybuilding as a profession. Well, maybe besides modelling for a jeweler, judging by the unreasonable amount of rings and other pieces of jewelry scattered about his body. And next to him, a face Akaza had sworn himself to not see again. “Hi,” he choked out, desperately staring at a spot somewhere behind them.

Douma nodded, apparently satisfied with this scarce reply. He smiled at Tengen and said sheepishly, “We may be a bit lost. And Akaza is pissed because I made him carry those bags for … a while now.”

Tengen laughed out loud and Akaza wanted to kill Douma immediately. He scoured his brain for a witty reply but before he could come up with anything, Kyoujurou said, “We can help you carry them, if you’d like to.”

Akaza’s stomach twisted and he quickly shook his head, but Tengen had already grabbed one bag and effortlessly slung it over his shoulder as if the bottles weighed nothing. Kyoujurou reached for the other one but Akaza snatched it before he could take it. “It’s no problem,” he snarled and Kyoujurou shrugged, his gaze lingering a bit too long.

To escape this uncomfortable glance, Akaza took a step forward and looked at Douma expectantly. Douma had watched the scene with an unreadable expression and now said, “Shall we go?”

*

One could say about Tengen what they wanted, but he definitely possessed a better sense of direction than Douma. He confidently navigated them through a few small streets, two of them that Akaza and Douma already had passed, though in the wrong direction. And only a few minutes later, they arrived at the party location. Even from outside, they could already hear the music and Akaza was grateful for it. Tengen and Douma had gotten along way too well for his own tastes, good enough that he was afraid they would become friends. And while he did not have a problem with Tengen in particular, it had become pretty clear that Kyoujurou would never be far, as he apparently was Tengen’s best friend.

The walk to the party had been rather unpleasant for Akaza, even though it was decidedly more bearable with only one heavy bag instead of two. However, every single minute he had been uncomfortably aware of Kyoujurou’s golden eyes burning holes into his back. Fortunately, he had not made any comment on Akaza’s rather rude behavior, and instead had chatted away with Tengen and Douma. And yet, Akaza could feel his gaze on his skin, sending heatwaves surging through his body. Thus, he sighed in relief when they finally arrived and were greeted by the presumable host.

The girl called Makio welcomed them in and seemed to care surprisingly little about the fact that Douma had brought Akaza without her knowing him beforehand. She was however delighted about the fact that they had brought both alcohol and snacks and called over her two roommates to help carry them in. While the other two steered Douma, Tengen and Kyoujurou into another room to set down their stuff, Makio turned to Akaza. “Did Douma make you carry all of this alone?” she asked with a laugh and Akaza instantly felt a bit less tense.

He grinned at her and shrugged. “I expected no less of him,” he admitted, making her chuckle. While she led him into the kitchen and helped him fish the bottles from the bag, he plucked up his courage and said, “I’m sorry for crashing the party. Douma forced me to come.”

Makio looked up in surprise and smiled at him. “No worries, it’s fine. We’re always happy to meet new people. And Douma always talks about you, so it was only a matter of time anyways.”

That took away the last bit of awkwardness and for a while, they chatted away while prepping another kitchen counter with the things they had brought. Makio was surprisingly easy to talk to and after a while, Akaza had almost forgotten the cause for his tension.

Up until the point where Douma popped his head in and called them over, two giant red cups in hand. “I made you drinks,” he exclaimed proudly, offering them one each.

Makio accepted hers with a carefree smile while Akaza was a bit hesitant. He had enough experience with Douma’s drinks to be careful, and thus he only took one cautious gulp while following Makio and Douma into the living room. The alcohol burned on his tongue and for a moment, he was more focused on his cup than the dancing crowd around them. He kept close to Makio when they made their way through the mass of people, and he plopped down on a couch when she motioned for him to sit down next to her. Only when he was seated, he finally looked up – and found himself right across from Kyoujurou who mustered him curiously. Akaza’s stomach dropped and he looked back at his cup. It seemed like this time, he would be grateful for Douma’s strong drinks.

Chapter Text

It did not take all that long for Douma’s drink to kick in. One minute, Akaza had shifted uncomfortably on the couch, taking big gulps from the red cup and listening almost feverishly to Makio, anything to distract him from the threat across from him. The next minute, Akaza’s whole body had relaxed until he almost melted into the couch beneath him. He now held a blue cup and sluggishly looked down at it, not entirely sure whether he had misremembered the color or if someone had given him a different cup. But judging by the liquid in it that also had a different shade than his first drink, it probably was a new cup after all.

“Who wants to dance?” Douma asked, still looking and sounding as fresh as morning dew. But to Akaza’s relief, Douma was pretty much alone in that as the others around them looked about as drunk Akaza he felt.

Makio giggled and accepted Douma’s hand when he helped her up and led her to the dance floor that had gotten even more crowded than before. Tengen invited one of Makio’s roommates to dance, a girl with long brown hair and a kind face.

With their circle decimated like that, Akaza felt the threat growing again. Makio’s second roommate was still engaged in conversation with Kyoujurou but since she seemed equally as bubbly as Kyoujurou was, it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to include Akaza in their conversation. And that was something he did not want to happen, not under any circumstances. He scanned the room for a decent distraction but looking at the people swaying and twitching on the dance floor made him feel nauseous and he quickly turned his eyes back to his cup. It was almost empty, merely the rest of his drink still covered the bottom.

That was it, this was his way out. Akaza lifted the cup and swallowed the rest of the drink with a big gulp, almost spilling some of the liquid over his sparkly sweater. He managed to avoid that fate in the last second and quickly wiped a droplet from his chin, intently avoiding to look at the other side of the table. Then, he stood up, absentmindedly asking himself why the world suddenly started spinning. “I need another drink,” he said to no one in particular, and walked off before a certain someone could say something.

Akaza made his way through the crowd which resulted in at least two invitations to dance with someone and three elbows casually rammed into his stomach and sides. When he finally reached the table where the alcohol was waiting for him, his head was spinning. He did not bother reading the labels on the bottles and randomly grabbed two of them, both filled with golden liquids. He fumbled around with the bottle caps for longer than he wanted to admit to himself, and when he finally got them undone, his patience had worn thin. Instead of checking whether the two drinks would work together, he carelessly poured both of them into his cup until it was full to the brim. Then, he leaned against a wall beside him and took a first sip. The drink tasted questionable at best and he grimaced when it burned his tongue and throat. But burning meant it was strong and a strong drink meant distraction from what was bothering him. And thus, he forced himself to down the drink quicker than he probably should have.

He had barely swallowed the last drop when Douma appeared out of nowhere. His cheeks were blushed, his hair disheveled and his rainbow eyes sparkled with excitement. Akaza lazily noticed that more than one head turned when Douma passed them, but Douma did not stop for anyone. His eyes were fixed on Akaza and it occurred to him too late that this should have been his clue to go into hiding. But when he finally realized that, it was already too late. Douma stopped right before him and beamed at him. “There you are,” he shouted and Akaza groggily asked himself why Douma felt the need to speak so loudly.

“Here I am,” he said and nodded emphatically. “I am right here.”

Douma grinned and said, “I can tell. But you’re not staying here. You’re coming with me now.”

Akaza wanted to give him a friendly smile, but then the meaning of Douma’s words sank in. He started to protest but as usual, Douma did not even seem to notice. He grabbed Akaza’s hand, intertwined his fingers with Akaza’s, and dragged him towards the dancefloor with surprising strength.

The further they walked, the louder the music grew. Douma effortlessly dove into the mass of moving bodies and somehow, he carved a way for Akaza as well. Mere seconds later, Akaza found himself in the middle of the dancers. To his left, his right, behind him, everywhere were people. Everything was moving, his head, Douma before him, and finally, Akaza himself. The beat encompassed his body and without wanting to, he started to mirror Douma’s movements. And when Douma smiled at him, Akaza returned the smile.

For a while, he was carried by the music, blood rushing in his ears. At first, there was only Douma, but when he started moving on his own, Douma’s face became only one in a kaleidoscope of smiling faces, every single one of them radiating pure joy. He saw Makio’s warm smile, Tengen’s white hair, Douma’s joyful expression. Brown eyes, rainbow-colored eyes, golden eyes, maroon eyes. All around him soft bodies, moving bodies, fabric grazing each other. He held Makio’s hands when they danced, felt Douma whirling him around, heard Tengen’s hearty laugh, felt someone close to him. Their warmth was magnetic, calling to him, and he followed the call. Their bodies moved together, a perfect symphony, harmony incarnate. The music whirled around them, making them float. Akaza tripped over a foot and a warm arm caught him, wrapping around his waist. A soft, warm laugh in his ear, and Akaza laughed as he held on to him, too. He looked up at his partner, his heart fluttering, and saw golden eyes.

The music stopped when the world came crashing down. Among the crowd of dancers, two stood still. The laugh was still etched into Kyoujurou’s face, his arm still around Akaza’s waist, Akaza’s hand still on Kyoujurou’s chest. He felt Kyoujurou’s steady heartbeat under his fingers. And then, the connection broke when Akaza threw himself back, almost knocking down a girl dancing behind him. She yelped but he did not look at her, he kept walking backwards, trapped by golden eyes that had widened in surprise. And then, the crowd closed between them and he broke free from the burning gaze. Akaza whirled around, pushing through the people, heading everywhere and nowhere at once.

He found himself at the bottom of a staircase that was mercifully empty and unlit. He climbed one step, tripped, stabilized himself with both hands. Half walking, half crawling, he moved up the stairs into a dark hallway. At a landing between the two segments of the stairs, he came to a halt and fought for air.

When the dim twilight engulfed him, Akaza leaned against a wall. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out the sounds of the music coming from downstairs. His breath came ragged and a tsunami rushed through his veins. He tried to focus on his breathing, tried to calm down, but once he closed his eyes, he could only see one face looking down at him. He clenched his fists and pressed them against his temples but nothing helped.

“Akaza?”

A soft voice, closer than he liked, and sounding agonizingly worried. Faint footsteps coming closer, reluctant but without pause. Akaza squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, dug his fists even deeper into his temples. This was not happening, it just was not.

“Hey, are you okay?” A short pause, but the footsteps came even closer. He could hear them coming up the steps, felt his presence on his skin. When they finally stopped, he could even hear him breathing. A moment of silence, then his voice again. “Is everything alright?”

He shook his head again, hunched his shoulders. “Go away,” he said under his breath, barely able to hear his own words.

But he did not go away, of course he did not. He stayed, each of his breaths torture. This voice, this damn voice that was so soft and warm, so entirely unreal. “What’s wrong?”

And something in Akaza snapped. His head shot up and he found himself face to face with Kyoujurou. The landing was so narrow that their bodies almost touched. Akaza moved away, his back to the handrail, Kyoujurou between him and the wall. The air around them was warmer than it should be, thinner than it could. Akaza fought for air, his heart hammering in his chest. “You want to know what’s wrong?” he hissed, the words tumbling out of his mouth as if a dam had broken. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. How dare you show your face after I had one full year of peace? How dare you come close to me with that fake smile and your ever so friendly face?”

Kyoujurou’s golden eyes widened and he opened his mouth, trying to say something. But Akaza was not done, his whole body burned with a fiery rage that would not back down. “I can see right through you. It’s taken me a while, admitted, but now I know how you really are.”

Kyoujurou tilted his head and even though his eyes were full of flames, his voice sounded calm. “And how am I?” he asked.

Akaza growled and took one menacing step closer. “You hide behind that gorgeous face, hide behind that oh so kind behavior. But inside, you’re laughing at me, have been since we’ve first met. You insult me to my face and hide it so well that it even sounds like a compliment. Be damned, Kyoujurou!”

Kyoujurou took a step back as if Akaza had punched him. His calm expression faltered and gave way to a devastating mix of confusion and concern. His eyes darted around, reliving memories that Akaza had so desperately tried to get rid of. And then, suddenly, Kyoujurou’s expression cleared. His face softened and his hand moved ever so slightly, almost as if he wanted to reach out. “You’re talking about the day at the bookshop,” he said softly.

Akaza clenched his fists when the memories came flooding back. It had been a cold day, so cold, and he had worn the wrong clothing. He had been freezing, his fingernails slowly turning purple. And then, he had been there, Kyoujurou, in this horrible sweater. And what followed had been a fever dream, a rollercoaster Akaza could not exit. For one moment, one heavenly moment, he had thought Kyoujurou liked him. And then, he had scorned him, insulted him to his face, smiling all the while. “Yes,” he hissed.

Kyoujurou’s eyes narrowed and he softly shook his head. “You got me wrong, Akaza,” he said quietly. “I never meant to insult you.”

Akaza’s face burst into flames and he took another step closer, trapping Kyoujurou between him and the wall. “What else could you have meant?” Akaza snarled, setting Kyoujurou on fire with his glare.

But instead of backing down, Kyoujurou looked down to the floor, his cheeks slowly turning red. For a moment, he looked very young. “I was trying to compliment you,” he said, his voice so soft that Akaza almost could not hear him. “I wanted to show you something. But it seems like I failed.”

Akaza was so close that he could feel Kyoujurou’s breath on his skin. A shiver ran down his spine when he leaned even closer. “And what did you want to show me?” he whispered, his heart racing.

Kyoujurou looked up and his golden eyes mellowed when he looked at Akaza. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his hand and ran his fingers over Akaza’s cheek. Akaza did not dare to move a muscle. The warmth of Kyoujurou’s hand spread through his cheeks, down his neck, into his chest and from there throughout his whole body. Kyoujurou’s eyes were as bright as the sun when he said, “That I like you.”

The fire engulfed Akaza and his arms moved without his doing. He pinned Kyoujurou against the wall, and when Kyoujurou’s mouth opened in a small gasp, Akaza leaned in. The gasp drowned in his lips and when Kyoujurou’s arms wrapped around his body, Akaza let go of his mind. He shoved Kyoujurou against the wall, coming closer until their bodies became one. And when Kyoujurou opened his mouth and gave in to his hunger, Akaza lost himself in those golden eyes.

Chapter Text

Akaza could still taste Kyoujurou’s lips even when he had already drawn away. For a second, they stared at each other, equally as shocked at what had just happened. Kyoujurou’s hands were still around Akaza’s waist, and his arms still locked Kyoujurou between him and the wall. Both of them were breathing heavily and somewhere deep within, Akaza knew that he would regret this later. But for now, he could not break away from the look out of those golden eyes. He felt Kyoujurou’s warmth against his body and for one otherworldly moment, everything in him calmed down.

But even a magical moment had to end and this one did when the sound of footsteps parted from the music downstairs. They were coming towards them, and rapidly at that. And with the footsteps came a voice. “Kyoujurou, are you here?”

Akaza jumped back as if something had bitten him. He felt Kyoujurou’s hands slide from his waist and where they had been, his skin now started to feel cold. Akaza did not dare to look at Kyoujurou again before he stormed down the stairs, hoping to make it past whoever was coming without them recognizing him. He needed time to think, time to process what had just happened. What he had just done. His lips still felt warm and for just one heartbeat, he wished he could turn around and go back.

But he did not. Akaza pushed past someone very tall that looked vaguely familiar, just grateful that it was not Douma who would now find Kyoujurou where Akaza had just been. The person looked at him in surprise but before they could say anything, Akaza was already halfway down the hallway leading back to the party.

When he entered the living room, he noticed that the crowd looked substantially more drunk now. What had felt elegant and almost like floating only half an hour ago now looked like a mass of arms and legs twitching uncontrollably. Akaza instinctively looked out for Douma or Makio but he could spot neither of them among the crowd. And since going to the kitchen meant going back towards the staircase, he decided to head for the garden instead. He fixed his eyes on the glass door separating the party from the darkness beyond and dove into the crowd.

This time, it was easier to make his way through the living room. Somehow, the dancers seemed to open a way for him, almost as if they sensed his inner turmoil. With the crowd parting before him, he was at the door leading to the garden in mere seconds. His face looked back at him from the dark glass, its eyes widened, distress written into its features. Akaza looked away when he reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

The night greeted him with a cold embrace. When he stepped out of the overheated living room into the damp coldness of the garden, he paused and shuddered. It was almost uncomfortable enough that he contemplated going back inside. But the beat of the music behind him mercilessly pushed against his back until he had crossed the threshold and closed the door again, building a barrier between him and the noise. He pulled the collar of his sweater a bit up, thankful that the fabric protected him from the worst of the cold. He walked a few steps and almost stumbled over what looked to be garden furniture. He ran his fingers over the rough surface until he was sure it was a chair. Then, he plopped down.

At first, the chair felt uncomfortably cold under his legs but after a while, it slowly got a bit warmer. Akaza leaned back and gazed at the sky. From time to time, a star peeked out behind a cloud and when the minutes passed, some of the clouds slowly started to drift away. Akaza tried to take a deep breath, but his chest tightened instead. He shook his head and focused on the night sky again. He started counting the stars but with each cloud that moved away, more stars appeared which made his task impossible. And yet, staring up at the stars and counting endlessly somehow helped to calm him down. After he reached three dozen stars, he could finally breathe freely again.

For a small eternity, he sat there and stared up at the sky, his hands and face slowly turning cold, starting with his fingers and the tip of his nose. Then, he heard a sound behind him when the door slid open. The music grew a bit louder for a moment, then it got quiet again. Akaza did not turn around. He felt like he could not move or the calm surface of his feelings would break open and reveal the turmoil underneath again. And thus, he just listened to the soft footsteps coming closer. They stopped somewhere behind him and for a moment, they both stayed silent. Then, Douma asked warmly, “Can I join you?”

Akaza smiled to himself and nodded. Only after a second, he realized that Douma could barely see him in the dark and quietly said, “Yes.”

He heard Douma shuffling around and for a moment, his silhouette darkened the night sky. Then, he had passed Akaza and made his way to what sounded like a second garden chair scraping over the floor. Douma sat down with a soft sigh and when Akaza looked over, he could see the faintest hint of Douma’s features in the starlight. He seemed to be looking at Akaza, his rainbow eyes shimmering in the dark. “What’s on your mind, Akaza?”

Akaza sighed and turned his gaze back to the sky. Counting the stars had helped calm his body down, but his mind was still racing. And if there was anyone he could talk to about this, it was Douma. But he was not sure whether he wanted to talk about it at all. If he opened his mouth, the words might spill out like a flood, drowning them both if he did not take care.

For a while, none of them spoke. Akaza shifted in his seat, torn between the urge to forget and the desperate desire to talk about it. But he could not bring himself to say anything, the words caught in his throat, vanishing into the night once he opened his mouth. Then, Douma very gently asked, “Is it about Kyoujurou?”

Akaza winced and turned around to look at Douma. He could not make out much, but he saw the warmth in Douma’s eyes and when he took another deep breath, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. “I … yes,” he said quietly. “How did you know?”

Douma took a moment to answer. When he did, he spoke so softly as if he was afraid Akaza would get up and just walk off into the night. “I saw the way you looked at each other. I have never seen you so … upset, I think. I don’t know what happened but I could tell you two had a past.”

Akaza sighed and nodded to himself. So he had not imagined the pensive look Douma had shot him after his first interaction with Kyoujurou on the way to the party. “Yes, you could say that,” he muttered.

Douma waited but when Akaza did not say anything else, he said, “At the party, you looked so uncomfortable that I thought about asking you to go back home early. But then we danced and …,” he paused, then carefully continued, “and then you danced with Kyoujurou and both of you looked so happy. But then you just ran off. And a moment later, he followed you.”

Akaza’s cheeks started burning when he thought about what had happened. When he blinked, he saw Kyoujurou’s surprised face flash before his eyes, just before Akaza had kissed him. His hands and face were freezing but his skin tingled with warmth when he remembered how close they had been.

“And now you’re here, alone,” Douma said softly. “Would you like to tell me why?”

Akaza smiled to himself and looked at Douma. “Not alone,” he said, and he saw his smile mirrored in Douma’s eyes.

Douma laughed softly. “Not alone,” he agreed. “Just you, me, and a sky full of stars.”

Akaza nodded and let his gaze wander over the sky. The clouds had now all drifted away, revealing the night sky in all its beauty. “I don’t know what happened tonight,” he finally said. “I was so sure that I despise Kyoujurou. But … he’s got something about him that makes my world turn upside down. When he’s there, I just can’t look away, it’s like he’s got a spell on me.”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could think it through and now, they drifted through the night air. When Douma replied, he sounded entirely calm. “Why did you think you despise him?”

Akaza laughed out loud and shook his head unwillingly. “We had an unfortunate encounter last year. Since then, I thought he was scorning me. But as it turns out, I was wrong all that time.”

Douma stayed quiet for a moment. Then, he asked carefully, “Is that a good thing?”

Akaza thought about it and heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was easier before. I didn’t have to think about it. And now … I do.”

From his right, Akaza heard the small, familiar sound Douma always made when he was deep in thought. And then, Douma softly asked, “And what if you ignore the thoughts for a moment and ask yourself what you feel? What does your heart say?”

Akaza chuckled against his will. This was Douma in all his glory, talking like a poet or maybe an author. “You know I don’t think like that,” he protested half-heartedly.

Douma tilted his head and looked at him intently. “Humor me, please,” he said gently, but insistently. “Just give it a try.”

Akaza sighed again and closed his eyes, trying to listen to his heart. At first, he felt a bit silly and was about to say that he mostly felt a steady heartbeat. But then, he grew calm and listened. And somewhere deep within, he felt something tugging at him, trying to pull him into a certain direction. There was wistfulness, a layer of fear and beneath that, something warm and tender. He felt arms wrapping around his waist again, soft lips against his. The pain when he had thought Kyoujurou was scorning him. The relief when he finally understood that he had been wrong all along. And the unexpectedly fierce wish to remember what had happened, to not let it go again.

Akaza opened his eyes and looked at Douma. The moon now shone directly on them, bathing Douma’s face in a silvery glow. He was smiling. “You listened to your heart,” he said.

Akaza held his gaze and for a moment, he allowed himself to dwell in the softness. Then, a cold breeze grazed his skin and he shuddered. He shook his head, only half-heartedly trying to hide his smile. “You’re silly, Douma,” he said. “Do you know that?”

Douma nodded and grinned at him. “I’m exactly what you need, my friend,” he said and brushed a strand of his hair aside in a grand gesture. “I’m the one who makes sure you listen to yourself instead of burying your feelings.”

Akaza laughed and leaned back in his garden chair, only to violently shiver when the cold metal touched his back. “Yeah, sure. Man whisperer,” he said with a grin.

Douma shrugged elegantly and held his hands out. “Call me whatever you want,” he said majestically. “But that’s what best friends are for, don’t you know?”

“I do,” Akaza said and placed his hands in Douma’s. And when Douma flinched at the touch of his cold skin, he allowed himself an evil grin. “And they’re for tormenting them with your cold hands!”

Chapter Text

The door closed behind the customer with a soft ding and Akaza sighed in relief. Usually, he did enjoy his job a lot, especially when customers asked him for his opinion on this or that book. There was nothing he loved more than giving recommendations, except maybe when the person actually bought the book he had recommended. But today, his mind was clouded and he had just recommended a man a horror novel after he had asked for a self-help book.

“Where’s your head today?” a familiar voice asked from behind him and Akaza turned around, incapable to hide his guilty expression. The owner of the book shop he worked at smiled at him, his eyes glistening with amusement. “Had a rough night?”

Akaza nodded and shrugged at the same time. “Something like that,” he murmured.

The owner’s face softened and he gently patted Akaza’s back. “It’ll be fine, kid,” he said kindly. “Whatever weighs on you will disappear, if you just give it time.”

Akaza looked up at him and when he saw the warmth in his eyes, he swallowed hard. “It won’t if I don’t fix it,” he said quietly.

The owner smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. “You will, I’m sure,” he said calmly. “You’re a good kid. Whatever you’ve said or done, you’ll be able to make it right.”

Akaza’s throat tightened and he nodded gratefully. He watched as the owner dove back into the depths of the book shop, satisfied with Akaza’s reaction. While Akaza did not like talking to others about his feelings, the owner had something about him that made people trust him. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he allowed students to borrow books from the book shop if they did not have the money to buy them, maybe because he always had a sympathetic ear for anyone who needed it. He was an elderly man and had been here longer than any student could remember. He had already looked old years ago and since then, both he and his book shop did not seem to have aged one day.

In the first year at this university, Akaza had merely heard rumors about this book shop but not gone there. In his second year, he had lurked about the book shop, always marveling at books he could not afford. And one day, the owner had wordlessly handed him a copy of his favorite book. Since then, the book lay safely in the drawer of his nightstand and Akaza had adopted the book shop as his second home – and when the owner had offered him a job there, the book shop had also adopted Akaza.

And thus, he always strived to be good at his job, to make a difference for the customers, just as he watched the owner do whenever the chance presented itself. Today was the first time since he had started this job that he could not for the life of him focus on what he was doing. Usually, the serene atmosphere of the book shop calmed him down and gave him a sense of security, but today he could not wait for his shift to end. Something within him pulled him somewhere else, as it had done since his conversation with Douma last night.

Once they had gotten done talking and headed back inside, the party had dissolved. Makio and her roommates had politely declined their offer to help them clean up and sent them on their way back home, together with the last few guests that still lingered. But when Akaza had looked around, he had seen no trace of Kyoujurou or even Tengen. Both of them had already left and with that, the chance of Akaza facing Kyoujurou again had also faded.

Last night, he had thought this was a blessing. Too much of him had still been in turmoil, trying to process what had happened. But when he had woken up today, he had felt this tugging behind his sternum that gently pushed and pulled him into a certain direction. But instead of giving in to the impulse straight away, he had struggled to get out of bed and dress himself for his shift at the book shop.

And now he was here, glancing at the clock every few minutes, asking himself why the clockhand just would not move. The hours trickled by and with each minute passing, the pit in Akaza’s stomach grew. His hands restlessly wandered over the counter, sorting pens and papers without even noticing. But even the clutter of pencils and pens had an end and after half of his shift, they were all neatly sorted by color, size, and brand. Without thinking about it, Akaza had also started to reorganize the insides of the counter and when the owner looked at him askingly, he felt his face turning red. But the owner just shrugged and turned away with a smile. And Akaza turned back to the counter and lost himself in the Sisyphean task of working himself through the chaos again.

After another eternity had passed, he heard footsteps coming closer and he looked up just in time to see the owner putting his coat on and grabbing his umbrella from behind the door. While he already reached for the door handle, he explained, “I’m going to my doctor’s appointment. Don’t forget to close up shop after your shift, okay?”

For a second, Akaza stared at him blankly, then his memory slowly came back. The owner had told him during his last shift that he would be leaving early today. Akaza nodded quickly and lifted his hand to say goodbye. The owner returned his wave and opened the door. But when he was already halfway outside, he stopped and cast one last glance back, “It’ll all be fine in the end, Akaza. Don’t worry.”

And even when the door had already closed behind him, his words still lingered in the air. Akaza took a deep breath and asked himself whether the old man knew more than he would let on, even though that seemed impossible. After all, Akaza had managed to plan his shifts around the times he knew Kyoujurou often visited the book shop. After the incident last year, Akaza had felt compelled to arrange this so he would not have to face Kyoujurou. But right now, he wished he had not.

Another glance at the clock revealed that he had only two hours left before he could close the shop. Enough time to lose himself in his thoughts again, so he turned back to the mess under the counter. While he was meticulous about how he organized things, the owner was decidedly not and thus had left a lot of chaos that begged to be cleaned up. And so, Akaza was able to busy himself in the times between customers. It was a rather slow day, probably also due to the rainy weather. Not many people dared to go outside and face the rain and wind, and even fewer had browsing books on their mind. And yet, Akaza still occasionally heard the little bell over the door ring when a brave passenger rescued themselves into the store. Most of them did not end up buying books or asking for recommendations, but they were enough of a distraction to make the time pass quicker.

And somewhere between sorting bills into different folders and the fifth customer since the owner had left, the bell rung again. Akaza instinctively glanced at the clock and sighed in relief when he noticed that he had less than half an hour of his shift left. Then, he looked up – and froze when he saw a familiar face under the hood of a colorful raincoat. Kyoujurou had not noticed him yet, he was fumbling with a pair of earphones that he had been daring enough to wear during a rainstorm.

Akaza’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his legs grow weak. He grabbed the edges of the counter, stabilizing himself. His mind raced when one thought chased the other, each trying to deafen the others. His hands felt cold and sweaty at the same time and he contemplated hiding behind the counter. But since the owner had already left, it would look more than suspicious if there was no employee here. And after all, he had been in a fever of impatience to close shop, leave the store and seek Kyoujurou out. But he was not ready, not here, not now. It was too early, too different from how he had imagined their meeting to be. It was not supposed to happen at this moment.

And then, Kyoujurou finally looked up, a friendly smile on his face. But when he saw Akaza, his eyes widened and his smile was swept away, making way for an expression that went right under Akaza’s skin. Uncertainty, surprise, and vulnerability danced over his face and he took a step back, lifting his hands as if to intercept an attack. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I’m leaving.”

And in an unusually fraught movement, he turned on his heels and headed for the door. Akaza’s heart fluttered and he reached out, even though he was several meters away. “Wait,” he said quickly, and Kyoujurou stopped dead in his tracks. “Please don’t leave.”

For a moment, the book shop fell quiet. Then, Kyoujurou reluctantly turned around, a guarded expression on his face that made Akaza’s throat tighten. He had never seen him like that. Kyoujurou meant shining golden eyes and a radiant smile, not this closed off expression. And Akaza knew who was responsible for this – and who had to fix what he had broken.

“Can we talk?” Akaza asked, his voice catching in his throat. Kyoujurou did not answer immediately and for a painful moment, Akaza thought he would decline and leave. But then, Kyoujurou nodded slowly. A wave of relief surged through Akaza’s body, only to be washed away when the door opened behind Kyoujurou and swept in another customer.
Kyoujurou winced and took a step back, making space for the man who stepped out of the rain. While the man shook like a dog and spread lost raindrops all throughout the entry, Akaza gave Kyoujurou a pleading look. “My shift ends in twenty minutes,” he said hastily. “Could you wait until then?”

Kyoujurou thought about it and these few seconds were the longest of Akaza’s life. Then, Kyoujurou nodded again and retreated into the back of the book shop where the fantasy section was located. Akaza looked after him and then quickly faced the new customer when he cleared his throat pointedly. When he was sure he had Akaza’s full attention, the customer stepped up to the counter and launched into a monologue about a book he had read years ago and now direly needed to find something similar to. Whenever Akaza’s attention started to drift to the back of the shop, the customer snapped his fingers before his face, glaring at him. Akaza muttered an apology under his breath and caught himself wishing that the rainstorm had deterred this particular person from coming here today. But because the owner made a point of treating even the most annoying customer with the same respect and kindness, Akaza gave his best to grin and bear it.

It cost him every last bit of patience to endure the monologue without interrupting the man. But finally, the customer had said everything that he had in store and graciously allowed Akaza to give him a few recommendations of similar books. Of course, he declined every single one of them until Akaza had almost run out of ideas. And it was only when Akaza pointedly looked at the clock and politely explained that the book shop was closing that the customer finally decided on a book and paid for it, making a sour face all through the interaction. When he left the shop after all, Akaza was quick to turn the sign behind the door around to show that the book shop had closed. He even locked the door from the inside so that nobody would interrupt their conversation. And then, he finally made his way to where Kyoujurou had hidden, his heart pounding in his chest.

Akaza slowly walked down the rows of shelves, passing the horror and science fiction sections. When he did not see Kyoujurou between the rows, his heart started beating faster. He quickened his pace, turned the corner – and there he was. Kyoujurou had nestled into one of the two armchairs that sat in the back corner of the shop, a book on his knees. For a moment, Akaza watched him softly running his fingers along the lines as he read. The knot in his stomach grew and he took one careful step towards Kyoujurou. When Kyoujurou noticed Akaza, he looked up, his expression unreadable. He gently closed the book and set it down on the coffee table next to the armchair. Then, he waited.

Akaza took a shaky breath and then sat down across from Kyoujurou, clinging to his armchair. Kyoujurou mustered him and now that he had the chance to tell him what was on his mind, Akaza did not find the words. He stared at Kyoujurou helplessly, his heart beating quicker and quicker. His fingers dug into the armrest until they reached the hard skeleton of the armchair beneath the soft fabric.

Kyoujurou’s eyes darkened and he averted his gaze, looking at the ground between them. He crossed his arms until it almost looked like he was trying to hold himself together. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything,” he said, his voice sounding hollow. “I understand.”

Akaza shook his head violently and bit his tongue. “No, you don’t,” he squeezed out. “I want to apologize.”

Kyoujurou sighed and when he spoke, he looked tired. “You have nothing to apologize for. We were both drunk and didn’t know what we were doing. It was nothing, nothing happened.”

This was wrong, it felt so wrong. Akaza slid to the edge of his seat and stared at Kyoujurou, trying to catch him with his gaze. “I don’t want to act like nothing happened,” he said intently, the words burning in his chest. “That’s not what I was getting at.”

Kyoujurou looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. “I don’t understand,” he said quietly, still crossing his arms protectively. But at least he did not get up, at least he still listened.

Akaza took a deep breath. He had never been good at talking about his feelings, even though Douma tried his hardest to help him. But if he did not outgrow himself now, he knew that Kyoujurou would leave and close the door behind him. And thus, Akaza closed his eyes and spoke. “I want to apologize for my behavior. Last year, I assumed the worst and avoided you. And last night, I got caught up in my feelings and then left you again.”

With his eyes closed, talking was easier. He heard Kyoujurou’s breathing and then, softly, “Are you apologizing for the kiss?”

“No,” Akaza blurted out before he could think about it. “No. I am sorry that I just ran off, that I didn’t explain myself. That was not right, I shouldn’t have treated you like this.”

Kyoujurou’s breathing changed ever so slightly. Then he said quietly, “I thought you ran away because you regretted the kiss.”

Akaza’s eyes flew open and he shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. I got overwhelmed, this all happened too fast. I didn’t know what I want and I think that scared me.”

Kyoujurou’s arms slowly sank down until they laid on the armrests. “And do you know now what you want?” he asked carefully.

Akaza took a deep breath and looked up. He saw his own fear mirrored in Kyoujurou’s eyes and somehow, it was exactly that which finally untied the knot in his stomach. “I do,” he said, holding Kyoujurou’s gaze. “Everything just went too quickly. For one year I thought you were looking down on me and then in only one night I find out that I was an idiot and that you are just as wonderful as I thought you were.”

Kyoujurou’s cheeks turned a soft red, but he did not say anything. He listened patiently and only the flicker in his eyes revealed his feelings. Akaza felt a smile tug at his lips and he continued, slower this time, “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Not so abruptly. But …”

Kyoujurou leaned a bit forward, his gaze fixed on Akaza. “But?” he asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Akaza looked at him, taking in every detail of his face. He took a deep breath and listened to his heart, just like Douma had taught him. And when he felt the gentle fluttering in his chest, he knew the way forward. “But I’d like to do it right this time. I’d like to get to know you better. And if we kiss again, I want it to be sober and with full intention.”

Kyoujurou mustered him for a moment. Then, his face softened. “Does that mean you’re asking me out?”

The rain pattered against the windows of the shop but in here, it was warm and cozy. And when Akaza smiled at Kyoujurou, he felt the rest of his unease vanish like fog in the morning sun. “Yes, I am,” he said. Then, he paused and tilted his head. “If you’d like to.”

And when Kyoujurou smiled, his eyes shimmered as golden as the sun. “I’d love that.”