Chapter Text
It started as a joke.
A lighthearted, stupid joke among four people in love.
“You always baby Chikara,” Daishou had teased one day, nudging Terushima in the ribs while Konoha laughed. “If we didn’t know any better, we’d think he was your favorite.”
Terushima, grinning, had thrown an arm around Ennoshita’s shoulders. “What can I say? He’s soft.”
Ennoshita had rolled his eyes, but he hadn’t minded. It was dumb teasing. The same way Konoha and Daishou always playfully argued about who was the prettiest in their relationship.
It wasn’t serious.
Until, somehow, it was.
Ennoshita didn’t notice at first.
They were all busy. Between Daishou’s modeling gigs, Konoha’s packed acting schedule, Terushima’s constant concerts, and Ennoshita’s brutal med school workload, it wasn’t unusual for them to have days where they barely saw each other.
But then Ennoshita started seeing patterns.
Konoha, Daishou, and Terushima often went out together while he stayed behind to study. They’d send pictures—laughing at some restaurant, visiting a set, watching a movie together. It was fine. They had their own lives.
But then, little things started stacking up.
One night, he heard Konoha joking, “Well, since we know you love us equally…”
“Except Chikara, obviously,” Daishou had added, half-laughing.
Terushima had laughed along. “Yeah, he’s special.”
Just a joke. Just teasing.
But Ennoshita hesitated before walking into the room.
Then came the inside jokes. Conversations that would suddenly shift when he entered the room. The playful teasing that turned into something heavily one-sided.
Ennoshita started feeling like a guest in his own relationship.
And the worst part?
It didn’t seem like the others even noticed.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t a fight.
It was just one moment that made everything click for Ennoshita.
He had finished an exhausting shift at the hospital and came home to find them on the couch—Konoha curled up against Daishou, Terushima sprawled across both of them, laughing at something on his phone.
They looked so comfortable. So perfectly fine without him there.
And that was when it hit him.
They were fine.
The teasing had just been teasing to them. A joke. Something to laugh about.
But to Ennoshita?
It had become a confirmation.
That maybe… they were just better without him.
The next morning, he made his decision.
“I think we should talk.”
Three sets of eyes turned to him, surprised by the sudden shift in tone.
Ennoshita took a breath, his voice calm but distant. “Are you three happy?”
Terushima blinked. “What kind of question is that?”
Daishou scoffed. “Of course we are.”
Ennoshita nodded. Then, after a beat, he asked, “Would you still be, if I wasn’t here?”
Silence.
Konoha frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Ennoshita exhaled, gripping his coffee mug a little too tightly. “You guys… you’ve been fine. Without me. You go out together. You joke around. You have your own little world. And I—” He hesitated, then forced the words out. “I feel like I don’t belong in it anymore.”
“What?” Terushima looked like he’d been physically slapped. “Chika, what the fuck—”
“You guys joke about it all the time,” Ennoshita cut in. “That I’m ‘special.’ That I’m treated differently.” He shook his head, trying to steady himself. “I thought it was just teasing. But after a while, it just felt like proof that I was separate from you three. And maybe…” He swallowed. “Maybe I really am.”
Daishou’s mouth opened. Then closed.
Konoha looked at Terushima, then back at Ennoshita, something sinking into his expression.
“…Chika,” Konoha said softly, “is that what you really think?”
Ennoshita didn’t answer.
Because yes. It was.
And the realization hurt like hell.
Konoha was the first to break the silence.
“Wait.” His voice was quiet, like he was only just now piecing things together. “You think we don’t need you?”
Ennoshita clenched his jaw. “You don’t.”
“That’s bullshit.” Terushima’s voice was sharp, but there was an edge of panic in it. “What the hell are you even talking about? We love you, Chika.”
“Then why do I feel like a fucking outsider in my own relationship?” Ennoshita snapped.
That shut them up.
Daishou exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. So, let me get this straight. You think we’re fine without you because we go out together? You think just because we joke around like assholes, we don’t need you?”
Ennoshita didn’t answer.
Konoha groaned, rubbing his temples. “God, we’re idiots.”
“You’re an idiot,” Daishou muttered, elbowing Terushima.
“Me?!” Terushima gawked. “You both started that joke!”
“You joined in!”
“Yeah, but—”
“Shut up!” Konoha snapped. He turned back to Ennoshita, looking more serious than before. “Listen. I don’t know how we let it get this far, but none of us think you’re separate from this relationship. You’re not an outsider, Chika.”
Ennoshita swallowed hard, but his hands still curled into fists. “Then why does it feel like I am?”
Another silence. A heavier one.
Daishou sighed. “Because we’re dumbasses who didn’t realize we were making you feel like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “Look. Maybe it’s easy for us, because we’ve always been loud about our feelings. But you—you don’t say things outright. And I guess we just assumed that if you had a problem, you’d tell us.”
“I am telling you.”
Terushima shook his head, stepping forward. “Chika. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Ennoshita bit the inside of his cheek.
Because it was easier to ignore it. Because he didn’t want to be needy. Because he didn’t want them to feel like they had to reassure him.
But now, standing here, he realized how stupid that was.
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.
“…Shit.” Konoha sighed, stepping closer, carefully reaching for his hand. “Chika, we’re sorry. Really. We never meant to make you feel like this.”
Daishou nodded, crossing his arms. “Yeah. I mean, fuck, we adore you. We thought it was obvious.”
“It was.” Which he pause just to look at them. “Until it wasn’t...”
“…Right.” Daishou grimaced. “Okay. Noted.”
Terushima exhaled sharply, stepping close enough to press his forehead against Ennoshita’s. “We’ll fix this,” he murmured. “If you’ll let us.”
Ennoshita’s heart clenched.
He wanted to believe them.
And looking at the way all three of them were watching him—serious, regretful, but so fucking soft—he realized he did believe them.
Maybe it wasn’t perfect.
Maybe it would take time to fully shake off that feeling of distance.
But…