Archive of Our Own

Baku sat in the back of his class, gaze cast at the window as he watched the morning pass by. The city was cast in a pink glow as the thick clouds from overnight began to disappear and reveal the sun. His eyes were half lidded with the remains of sleep. His alarm had not gone off, and it had left him racing to get to school. Not that he entirely cared about punctuality, he was never one for that, but he was committed to getting through his last year with the best record he could have. 

Now, however, the last traces of his dreams lulled in the back of his head, echoing some enchanting feelings of falling back asleep. 

Chicken. 

He could really go for some fried chicken right now. 

He was brought out of his tired and food-fueled thoughts to the sound of the classroom going hush. Loud chatter from groups faded away as hushed murmurs took over the space. Baku’s eyes shifted from the windows to the front of the class. 

There, standing next to the teacher, were a boy and a girl. They wore the uniforms, pressed and ironed, which was much more care than most of the students put in. They were not from here, most definitely not from the country as a whole. He squinted at the guy. He was taller than the other, with clean-cut hair and a strong jawline. Lean, but still had some muscle. 

The girl, however, had Baku wondering if he had actually woken up that morning. He had to have still been dreaming. Surely. Why was her hair so silky? 

Why the hell was he thinking about her hair? Of all things?

He almost physically shook his head to get that thought out. 

“This is James and Y/N. They’re on exchange from Canada. Please, make them feel welcome while they are here.” The last sentence came out with a tone of exhaustion. It sounded more like a plea than a request. Given the nature of students in the school and the teacher’s inability to control them for the most part, it sounded almost like begging. 

The two did not introduce themselves. Just bowed slightly with blank looks on their faces. Baku glanced towards Sieun sitting at the front and almost giggled at the resemblance. Dead expressions and tense posture. Did Sieun have some long-lost family? Weird doppelgangers? 

The teacher held out his hand and gestured to the back of the classroom, “There are two open seats over there.” Baku glanced to the spots to his right. Two blank desks that had been unoccupied for the semester so far. 

The footsteps of James and Y/N came nearer, and the spot beside him was taken by Y/N. He forced himself to look forward. He could not afford to embarrass himself and have another situation for his friends to tease him. Gotak had yet to get over an incident where Baku was walking past a cute girl from school one evening as they walked out of an arcade. Baku had waved while looking at the girl, but failed to see the streetlight in front of him. 

He could still feel the phantom pain that had left a bruise for two weeks on his forehead. Gotak still brought that incident up, despite it happening over a year ago. 

It was hard to stay focused. He could smell her perfume, something citruisy mixed with what could only be described as a beach breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her taking notes diligently as the teacher rambled on. Even her supplies looked as organized as she did. Each pen, pencil, and highlighter was neatly arranged beside her notebook. Clean, expensive-looking. Her brother looked the same. 

What the hell were they doing at a school as shitty as Eunjang?

Baku had been hyper-focused on the meal in front of him. The cafeteria buzzed with noise as students ate and chatted. Beside him sat Gotak, while across was Juntae, Sieun, and Suho (the latter of which was still adjusting to his first year at Eunjang). He and Suho were shovelling mounds of rice into their mouths while the others looked on with judgment as they unintentionally moved in sync. 

Juntae took a sip of his drink and pushed up his glasses that had slipped. “Have you all seen the new students?” 

“The Canadian ones?” Suho mumbled through his chews. Some stray sauce had landed on his chin. Wordlessly, Sieun placed a napkin down in front of him. 

“Who else would he be talking about?” Gotak pointed his chopsticks at Suho before his eyes lit up with an idea, “Do you think they're like those stereotypical overly friendly Canadians?” 

Juntae shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Do you guys seriously believe that?” Sieun’s face was unimpressed as he looked at his friends. 

“Possibly,” Suho swallowed a piece of chicken, “Oh, do you think their accents are funny?” 

As if summoned by the group’s conversation, the cafeteria doors opened, and the twins walked in. Baku turned as he saw a few others looking, and his gaze instantly locked onto Y/N. Still, her brother’s and her faces were blank. It was smart. Eunjang was not the kind of school to show emotions when you are vulnerable, and all new students are vulnerable. They have not established themselves in a pecking order, and Baku wondered how they would handle it. 

There was a spark in their eyes, but the amusement was not on their face. It was as if they knew things others did not. One of his eyebrows twitched with anticipation. Was this not the first delinquent-riden school they had been in? 

Others in the cafeteria resumed their conversations after a few moments, allowing the space to go back to what it once was. Baku turned around, but saw Gotak looking at him with a knowing look. Baku did not understand what his friend was trying to convey, and instead chose to stare down his meal like it was an impossible math quiz. 

The scent of citrus and ocean washed over Baku as the twins passed by the group table and sat down at an empty one a few spaces away. They were now in his line of sight, and Baku squeezed his empty juice box as her eyes briefly locked with his. He was grateful it was empty, or else the juice would have shot straight out of the straw and into his face. 

That would be a moment more embarrassing than walking into a street light. Gotak would never let him live that down. 

Baku looked away first. His mind was both blank and running at incredible speeds. Heat spread from his face to his neck. Gotak nudged him slightly with that same funny look in his eyes. 

The moment was cut short when Baku spotted three guys moving towards the twins. He recognized them as a group that had a proclivity towards breaking the rules. His instincts urged him to diffuse the situation before it got bad, but a part of him was interested in how it would play out. 

He could always intervene if it got physical. 

“Uh,” Juntae spoke up, “Should we do something?” 

“Not yet,” Baku said. His voice was calm, but there was fire under it like a storm building above the clouds. When the other guys approached, mocking grins stretched across their faces, the twins looked unfazed. Baku’s fingers tapped against his tray to an unknown rhythm. 

He could not hear what they were saying, but he noticed the way Y/N’s head turned to the main boy as he spoke. Her right eyebrow raised slightly as she judgmentally looked them up and down. It was the first time Baku saw something other than disinterest on her face. 

They exchanged words back and forth. Whatever bait the guys were laying, the twins did not take it. Y/N got up from her chair with some trash in her hand and made a move to throw it away, but the main guy stepped in front of her. His hand reached out and pushed lightly against her shoulder, but she only stared blankly at him. 

He spoke again, but this time louder for others to hear, “I was just joking, baby. You should be appreciative when a man compliments you.” 

“I don’t see a man.” Her retort was quick and efficient, delivered with a kind of disinterest one would see in a child being forced to eat vegetables. Baku could hear Gotak and Juntae try and stifle laughs. 

A hush moved over the cafeteria. It always did when a fight was about to break out. The school acted as a colosseum, each vying for its own gladiator to win. 

“You bitch,” He stepped forward, “You talk mad shit for a foreigner.” Still, it looked as though his words were not bothering her. Y/N’s eyes surveyed him like a bug to squash. 

Baku shifted in his seat as he prepared to interfere. 

“And you talk mad shit for someone so short.” Her line came out like a shot and echoed amongst the students. Like a dam breaking, her words caused laughter to reverberate through the large room. Baku cracked a smile, entirely too amused at the situation but still on edge. 

One of the henchmen of the leader stepped forward, "Watch your mouth, new girl. You don't know who you’re talking to."

"You’re right. I don't know who I am talking to," She spoke, and it sounded like she had given up, but her next words destroyed that thought, "A cave troll, perhaps? Or maybe a daddy’s boy that was never told no as a child?"

Her brother, who had been sitting down and watching with a look ready to kill, cracked a small smile. 

Baku’s hands curled into fists as he tried even harder to hold back his grin. Gotak had a hand over his mouth to cover his obvious smile. Even Sieun’s lips twitched. The other boys, however, were clearly not liking this one bit. 

One of them took another step closer, looming over Y/N and clearly fuming now. "Is that really the attitude you have with guys who could snap you in half, new girl?"

Y/N spoke with a blank look on her face, “You look like you can’t even snap a pencil in half.” 

The boy huffed as his jaw twitched. Without responding, he moved his arm back like he was going to punch and stepped forward. However, as he stepped forward, he tripped and fell on the floor of the cafeteria. His face smacked the linoleum floor. To anyone else, it looked as though he slipped. Yet, if someone was skilled with fighting, they would have noticed the subtle movements Y/N made as she sent him tumbling to the ground with a swift kick to his foot. 

But Baku noticed. His eyes were wide, lips parted with surprise as the guy’s face smacked across the linoleum. The sound resonated across the space with a sharp slap-like noise.

The whole cafeteria burst out in laughter. 

“Yo! Walk much, loser?” Some voice shouted high amongst the laughter, causing another round of amusement. 

The guy managed to stand up, and his voice stuttered, “You... you tripped me! You did something with your foot!”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Her expression remained blank, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes, "You seem to have hit your head too hard. It’s best to see the school nurse before any damage becomes permanent.” 

He clenched his hands into fists, and it was clear he was itching to just punch Y/N right there. But there were so many people around, it would be a bad idea, which was probably the only reason he didn't. Baku, however, leaned forward just in case he needed to intervene. 

The guys were assholes, but would they really punch a girl? 

One of the other guys placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Bro, just leave it. People are watching… and honestly, you did trip like an idiot."

Y/N sat back down next to her brother, who had been watching with a blank expression like he knew she could handle herself. The two went back to eating their food like nothing had happened. The three boys, ego’s bruised and emotions running hot, walked away with shame. 

Sensing a lack of fight, the other students quickly went back to their food, though slightly disappointed they could not have any entertainment. 

Baku was unable to take his eyes off Y/N, his thoughts racing and jaw slightly slack. Gotak was grinning from ear to ear beside him, a clear look of admiration on his face. Sieun, on the other hand, was back to his usual blank expression, though there was a hint of a small smile in his eyes as he chewed his food. 

Suho let out a low whistle, “Quick-witted, that one.” 

Baku hummed in agreement, his eyes still watching her, “Yeah, she is.”

The next day, Baku had been staring at his phone before class. He was mindlessly scrolling when the twins walked in. Word had already gotten around about the incident in the cafeteria, dubbing Y/N as ‘ice’ for how she handled the situation. Cheesy, but at least it was not anything horrible. 

Baku did not know how to feel about the situation. There was something about her – calm, sharp, and untouchable – that tugged at his curiosity. As more students came in, he worked up the courage to speak to her. 

“Hey.” His voice came out almost cracked, and he mentally cringed. “Do you ever plan on making someone face plant again… or was yesterday just a special occasion?” 

He said it like a joke, but there was an underlying curiosity. Baku was not sure about the twins yet. He did not want more people causing trouble at the school. They had only just achieved peace (as peaceful as the school can be) with the dissolution of the Union the year prior. 

Baku did not want to go through anything like that again. 

Y/N’s lip twitched slightly with amusement at his words, but quickly went back to a neutral expression. 

“No, I don’t plan on it. But who knows? My schedule is pretty open these days.” Her tone was teasing, and Baku felt a little relief at that. He leaned back in his seat. 

“We haven’t properly met yet. I'm Baku.” 

“Y/N.” She responded as though he did not know her name, as if the school had not already been talking about her and her brother, “Is this school always so… eager to fight?” 

Baku chuckled at her question, not at all surprised she had picked up on this. He crossed his arms over his chest, hands brushing the fabric of his jersey he wore under his blazer. 

“This school has always been like this. It used to be worse.” He watched as she bit her lip in thought, and something about that move was more attractive than it should be. His gaze remained on her, studying her face and the way she held herself. He could tell there was much more to her than the exterior she showed.

“I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.” She answered while she pulled out her supplies.

“You don’t look too bothered by it, though, and so does your brother. Most newcomers would’ve been running away already.” Baku pulled out his binder, but cringed when he remembered how messy it was inside. He, under zero circumstances, could not open it in front of her lest he have the pretty girl see mismatched loose papers scatter about the desk. 

“It’s not a bother when you can hold your own.” She answered just as the teacher walked into the class. 

His eyes flicked to her brother for a moment before returning to hers. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

“You and your brother wanna eat lunch with my friends and me?” It was bold to ask, but he decided to do so while he felt confident. 

She bit her lip again in thought before subtly nodding, “Yeah. That sounds good.” Baku grinned, a kind of giddy one that was lopsided and made even the noisiest of hallways feel quiet for a second. 

Baku spent the rest of the time leading up to lunch impatiently tapping his foot against the waxed floor. He was excited, but also nervous. While he loved his friends, they could be a lot to handle in a single dose.

When the bell finally rang, he stood first and slung his bag over one shoulder before turning to Y/N and James. 

“Hungry?”

Baku had walked to the cafeteria with the twins. They all got their food and headed towards the table he always sat at with the group. The moment the three walked in sight, Gotak’s grin was already wide as he leaned forward in his seat with his hands flat on the table. 

“Here they are. The mysterious twins from the land of maple syrup!” Gotak’s words earned a quick slap to the back of his head from Baku after he put his tray down. 

“Don’t be rude.” Baku scolded. 

“That’s fine,” James laughed as he placed his food down, “It’s better to be known for things that are harmless.” 

Baku sat in his usual spot with Gotak to his left. Except this time, Y/N sat on his right with James beside her. He tried to act nonchalant, but he was nervous that she chose to sit next to him. The group went around introducing themselves, patiently allowing the twins to absorb the information. 

Suho spoke first after the introductions, “So… you’re really from Canada?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N responded, “From the west coast.” 

They all nodded, listening intently. Suho in particular was clearly fascinated by even the smallest details; meanwhile, Juntae and Gotak were practically buzzing, trying to fight their grins. Sieun just watched as always, but his eyes flicked over their faces like he was seeing them in a whole new light. And Baku… well, he couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from drifting to Y/N again and again.

“Your accents are pretty light. It’s almost natural.” Juntae complimented with a nervous and low voice. 

“We’re well adapted at learning languages,” James explained as he ate. 

Gotak leaned forward with interest, “How many languages do you both know?” 

“Four,” Y/N answered casually, as if she was reading out the weather forecast, “Six if you count the others we are conversational in.” 

“What the fuck.” Suho’s face was stuck in a stunned expression, and for once, it looked like he had abandoned his food for the conversation. Sieun turned to his friend with a look of disapproval at his choice of words. Baku leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

“How did you manage that? You’re both, what, 17?” 

“Hey,” Gotak interrupted, “Not everyone has the IQ of a monkey.” Baku raised his fist in a mock motion to fight, but cleared his throat loudly and hesitatingly lowered his arm. He did not want to lose his cool in front of her. 

“Shut up.” Baku hissed lowly at his friend, eyes moving towards Y/N to assess how embarrassing this situation was for him by trying to gauge a reaction. 

Y/N continued to speak as though she did not notice, “You’re never too young to learn life skills.” 

The mood of the table deflated almost instantly when the three boys from the previous day approached the table. Instead of squared shoulders and mischievous eyes, they looked intimidated to even approach. They avoided eye contact, choosing to look anywhere else. Baku’s body stiffened as he remembered how one almost struck Y/N yesterday. 

He could feel Gotak and Juntae’s mood shift in the seat next to him, and Suho and Sieun were clearly watching them with caution. But no one more so than James. They posed a threat to his sister. It was not lost on the guys at the table how his grip on his metal chopsticks tightened. 

“Uh… can I speak to you for a moment? In private…” The lead guy coughed awkwardly for a moment. 

Baku tensed even further without even realizing it, his hands curling into fists under the table. His gaze was locked on the leader, his thoughts running through all the possible scenarios. His instincts were screaming at him that this was a bad idea. 

He wasn’t the only one. Gotak and Juntae were both shifting in their seats, clearly on edge. Suho was watching with his sharp gaze, while James’s expression was unreadable. It was only Sieun who kept his cool, sitting motionless, though Baku could see the tenseness in his muscles.

“No,” Y/N answered, “Whatever you have to say, say it here.” She pushed around some food on her plate, conveying her trademark air of nonchalance. Her words were firm, laced with a tone of finality.

The guy fiddled with his hands in front of him, nervously shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Finally, he let out a loud sigh as though he had given up. 

“We want to apologize for our behaviour earlier. It was unacceptable.” 

“Hm,” She hummed as she placed her chopsticks down. Her eyes narrowed on them as she watched them fidget. Baku could almost see humour in her eyes. 

The air was tense. Each person at the table looked like they wished to say something. Gotak had a smug smile on his face, like he enjoyed seeing them squirm. Baku could relate. Those three guys had been menaces. Most of all, he admired Y/N strongly in that moment. Her calmness, her composure, her cool demeanour. It was like nothing or no one could faze her, and it only intrigued him even more.

“You gonna accept my apology?” The guy asked impatiently. 

“No,” She responded bluntly, “Picking fights with people is stupid, but picking a fight with someone you clearly cannot go up against is downright absurd.” 

The milk Suho had been taking a sip of spurted out of his mouth as he began coughing. Sien watched on with mild disgust while Juntae and Gotak had to cover their mouths. James only wore an amused smirk, pride shining in his eyes. 

The guy’s face was flushed red with embarrassment, but he did not argue. He nodded stiffly, muttering something about wasting his time and backing away with his crew trailing behind like kicked dogs. 

The moment they were out of earshot, Gotak reached across Baku with his hand forming a fist, “That was the funniest thing to happen all week.” 

Y/N reached out hesitatingly and bumped fists with him. 

Suho shifted excitedly in his seat, mouth full of rice he just shovelled down, “That was terrifying… and kind of hot.” Baku’s chest flared with something unknown as Suho spoke. 

James cringed in his seat, “Dude, maybe don’t flirt with my sister in front of me.” 

Y/N only giggled, unbothered, “Oh, cool it, James. I think it’s sweet.” 

Suho's face flushed, “I didn’t mean it like that!” 

She decided to keep teasing, “What? You don’t think I’m attractive?” She feigned a look of hurt as her eyes scanned over everyone at the table. They settled on Baku for a moment longer than the others before going back to Suho across from her with a serious face. The poor boy appeared as though he would combust. 

“No! I mean– yes! Wait, no. I mean, you’re obviously attractive but–” 

Y/N disrupted his chaotic rant by bursting out laughing. Gotak lost it shortly after, slapping the table. The others followed suit, and even the corners of Sieun’s lips lifted slightly.  

Baku? He just sat there, arms crossed, with a single eyebrow twitching as he glared at the ceiling and tried to get the memory of Suho complimenting Y/N out of his head. She caught his mood, however, and noticed the tension in his shoulders. 

 “Seriously, Suho,” She began, “You should have seen the look on your face.” Baku’s eye twitched again. It was not helping him that she had a wonderful laugh, or that her eyes sparkled extra when she was amused. 

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Baku finally spoke to her. 

She turned to him with a smile on her face, “I have to survive this school somehow.” She finished it off with a wink. 

A damn wink. 

If his chair did not have a back to it, Baku could swear he would have fallen back onto the floor in that moment. Y/N got up from her seat, tray now empty, and picked it up. 

“I’m going to study for the rest of lunch. See you guys soon.” She nodded to each of them in appreciation. Baku noticed her final sentence. Soon. She liked hanging out with them and wanted to see them again. 

When she left the cafeteria, James spoke up, “I give it a week.” The rest of the group turned to him with different levels of confused expressions. 

“A week for what?” Baku questioned. 

“It was a thing at our last school. Half the guys hated her because of her foul mouth, the other half were wrapped around her finger.” He shrugged as though it was normal, “I give it a week for the same thing to happen here.” 

Baku did not like the feeling of his heart sinking at that. He was a mix of impressed and unnerved at James’s words. 

“A real heartbreaker? She doesn't come across like it.” Gotak’s eyebrows were furrowed as he finished off his meal. 

“No. Yeah, guys asked her out, but she never dated.” James shook his head, “She was never interested.” 

Baku’s eyes narrowed a little as his mind processed this. Gotak and Suho were both listening in with rapt attention, while Sieun’s expression was more guarded, as always. Juntae just took a small sip from his strawberry milk. 

“So no boyfriend ever?” Suho asked. 

“Let's change the subject.” James acted as though talking about his sister’s love life was disgusting, but Baku noticed a tense glint in his eyes. The way his jaw tightened was familiar to Baku; it was the same thing he did when bracing for a fight. He did not push. No one at the table did. 

For a brief moment, Baku’s eyes drifted back to the cafeteria doors in thought. 

Whatever happened, it wasn’t only about her being untouchable. 

And for once in his life, he decided to wait and see.

A week had passed, and it seemed as though James’s prediction had come to fruition. 

Baku pretended it did not bother him when guys in the hallways would turn to vie for Y/N’s attention. He pretended that the constant competition for her to even look in their direction was nothing. 

He pretended as much as he could. 

But he was never good at that, and he tended to carry his heart on his sleeve despite putting on an act of strength. 

Currently, as the group all hung out in the sunlight of the outdoor basketball court, Baku was sprawled out on the ground with a basketball tucked between his arm at his side. His other arm supported the back of his head. Gotack sat beside him, pulling at weeds that had begun to sprawl out of a crack in the pavement. 

The rest, Juntae, Suho, Sieun, James, and Y/N, were sitting on the stone bleachers. James was telling some funny story about something that happened back home, but Baku was not listening. 

Instead, he noticed the way the sun cast a gold reflection across Y/N’s skin, and could not stop glancing at her. There was something different about her hair that day as well. 

Was it fluffier than usual? Did she style it? 

Baku also noticed the way her hair clip matched her uniform. It was cute. 

He sighed at his thoughts before noticing a figure at the end of the court. He sat up slightly to get a better look. The guy was tall, lean, but with some noticeable muscle, and a handsome face. Baku recognized him as a student in the advanced classes. The guy raised an arm and waved, and Baku’s eyes furrowed as he did not know if he was talking to him. 

“Hey, Minho!” Y/N shouted and shoved some of her things in her bag hurriedly, “I'll be right there!” 

Minho. 

Who the fuck was Minho? And how did Y/N know him? 

It was like someone had dropped ice down his back. His grip on the basketball tightened, and he noticed the quick glance Gotak sent his way. 

All eyes followed Y/N as she swung her bag over her shoulder, gave a small smile to James, who was suddenly wearing a very serious expression, and started walking toward the guy. That guy. 

But he was not just any guy. 

He was clean-cut. Had a confident stance. A senior from another class, all the allure of an older dude. Baku suddenly remembered how he knew him. One of the top students, but still no competition for Sieun. Minho was captain of the debate team… and according to rumours, never short on admirers. 

So what was he doing with her? Why was she giving him attention when she ignored everyone outside of the group? 

Baku did not move. But inside? Chaos. 

Gotak spoke up after a moment, “Um… since when does ‘Y/N doesn't date’ turn into ‘Y/N has plans with some random dude?’” 

James only sighed and took a sip of his energy drink, “She was placed in an upper-level class for history. Apparently, they’ve been paired together for a project.” 

Baku could feel his fingers digging into his basketball; the rubber felt hot under his grip. He said nothing as James continued talking. 

“It’s this big project. A whole joint essay, presentation, and final debate. They have a month, so it’s pretty intense.” James took a bite out of an apple, chewing casually as he wiped the juice from his chin. 

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Suho shrugged, “A lot of alone time.” Baku’s eyes narrowed at that insinuation. He basketball strained even further under his grip, and Gotak quickly swiped it from him before his strength popped it. 

Juntae, seemingly the only one other than Gotak, noticed Baku’s dampened spirit and spoke up. 

“But it’s school work. Not exactly a fun time.” He then turned to James, “I mean, you said it yourself, she doesn’t do that stuff.” 

“If anything, I feel bad for the dude,” James swallowed some apple, “She’s a pain in the ass when it comes to school work. Y/N’s a perfectionist by nature.” 

They all laughed. All except Baku, but he did feel a small piece of relief at that knowledge. He was still staring in the direction she had gone, jaw relaxed now, but still tense. 

That was how Baku stayed for the rest of the day, in a state of constant nervousness. He was never one for paying much attention in class, but today was even worse. His eyes would always drift to the window, where he would get wrapped up in fearful images his mind would conjure up. Y/N and Minho, sequestered away in a library. Y/N and Minho, laughing over some inside joke. 

Each one hit him like a punch, only this time, he was not sure he could tank the hits like he usually could. 

At the end of the day, as the group normally walked down the hill after school, Y/N veered off in the opposite direction. Baku and the others exchanged confused looks as they stopped walking and watched her walk away. 

“Uh, what?” Juntae’s small voice spoke first. 

“Is she going a different way home today?” Gotak asked, but was equally confused. They had made plans to hang out at her and James’s place for the night and spend the weekend together, as their parents were gone for a conference. 

Baku had a small frown on his face, “I'm going to check.” He broke into a slow jog until he finally caught up with her and slowed his pace to match hers. 

“You know you’re walking the wrong way?” He asked casually with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She did not miss a step and only tilted her head slightly to look at him for a moment. 

“I know.” A beat passed as wind brushed through the trees along the sidewalk. “I told Minho I’d meet up to work on that project. Some cafe a few streets over.” 

Baku felt a small pang in his chest, something unpleasant, like a sharp sting. He tried not to let it show, keeping his hands in his pockets and his tone light. 

“Oh? You guys plan on working long?” 

“Probably, yeah.” She answered, “I want to get a few sources analyzed and at least a running plan for arguments. That alone will probably take a few hours. I don’t know Minho’s work ethic yet, but I hear he’s studious. That better be true. There’s nothing worse than being partnered with an idiot.” 

His expression shifted, just slightly. A flicker of something unknown passed through his eyes. 

“Studious, huh? He’d better be smart enough to keep up with you.” He joked. 

He did not say what he was thinking: “But not too smart. Not too close.” 

Instead, he glanced back at his friends waiting for him. Juntae was waving dramatically like they were in a soap opera. Gotak shouted something about “love triangles” before Suho smacked him. Baku was grateful that Y/N did not appear to hear it, and also grateful for Suho hitting his friend to shut him up. 

Baku turned back to her, voice softer now. 

“See you later, then. Don’t forget about our dumbasses while you’re working.” The teasing lilt was still there. But beneath it? A thread of realness. 

This time, she noticed it. 

And for just a second, her smile wavered into something warmer, softer. 

Then, as if the movement was natural, she stepped forward, lifted her hand, and flicked his forehead hard enough to sting. 

“You really know nothing about girls. Idiot.” 

Y/N did not wait for a response, but simply walked off. Baku stood there, rubbing his forehead, smiling like an idiot. 

But his heart was still moving a mile a minute despite being stationary. There was something in that insult… a hint of affection, a glint of warmth. He could hear his friends’ laughter in the background as he tried, and failed, to wipe the grin from his face.

His heart did something funny, and his thoughts went something like:

“That damn girl.”

It had been hours with the group cooped up in James and Y/N’s apartment. Takeout boxes were strewn about the living room space as shouts of victory and anger spread amongst them. The TV was bright in the low light of a few lamps, and the city outside the window glowed. Suho and Gotak sat beside one another, each bumping the other’s shoulders and using a free hand to block their vision, controllers gripped like their lives depended on it, as they fought over second place in Mario Kart. 

Juntae sat on a pillow on the floor with his back to the couch, calmly in first place, playing Toad. Baku and James were in a fight for third place, while Sieun scribbled down equations, opting instead to have his notebook out for what he dubbed a ‘quick review’ despite doing that for over an hour. 

The front door opened suddenly, and the laughter of two voices echoed down the hallway. The living room was at the far end of the hall from the entrance, and if Baku leaned back on the couch, he could turn and look down the hall and at the door. When he did, he caught the sight ot Y/N and Minho. 

They were talking with an air of familiarity. 

Baku stopped paying attention to the go-kart match; his grip on the controller loosened. The rest of the group seemed to notice the commotion as well and turned to see the last of the conversation between Y/N and Minho. She waved goodbye and closed the door. The moment she turned around, all of the guys whipped their heads back at the screen to pretend they did not notice. 

Baku tried to act casual, but when she stood by the couch on the side he sat on, he could feel her eyes scan the side of his face before looking at the others. 

James was the first to speak, “How is the project going?” 

Y/N sighed loudly and put her backpack down. She plopped onto the open space on the couch next to Baku. Her scent invaded his senses. A soft, subtle mix of vanilla and fresh laundry, and god, something entirely unique to her. His hands tightened on the controller. He couldn’t help but glance her way, catching a glimpse of her dishevelled hair after a long day and the small bit of blush she had brushed onto her cheeks that morning. 

“Good,” She answered, “We got more than what I hoped to get done. My brain just hurts.” 

“Brain hurts? Not going to pass out on us now, are you? You've got to play a few rounds before then.” Suho joked as he swiped a gummy bear out of a bowl on the coffee table, threw it up into the air, and caught it in his mouth. 

“Wait, if you passed out mid-work, would Minho carry you home, like romantically?” Gotak raised his eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner, while subtly casting glances at Baku to gauge his friend’s reaction. Baku had a small frown on his face as he pictured it. Minho, with his stupidly perfect hair, picking her up in his stupid arms to stupidly carry her home. 

He wanted to punch something. 

He wanted to be the one to carry her home.

Y/N sighed dramatically and threw a plush pillow at Gotak’s head, striking him right in the face. He fell back from his spot on the floor while letting out a yelp of shock.

“He’s just a project partner. Not even my type.” She mumbled the last bit while crossing her arms. Baku had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

“Damn woman,” Gotak groaned as he rubbed his face and sat up, “You got a mean swing. Never mind what I said, the poor guy would have to deal with your mood swings.” 

“I’ll throw another damn pillow,” Y/N warned as she held one up, “And I’ll have you know, I’m a great catch.” 

James scoffed and put his controller down, “That doesn't count if you never date, sis.” Baku’s ears perked up slightly. When the topic of Y/N’s dating history came up that day in the cafeteria, James brushed over the question of whether she had a boyfriend before. It had been bothering him for a long time, not knowing an answer. 

It seemed that despite constantly teasing him, Gotak had his back and leaned in. 

“Wait, you seriously haven’t dated anyone before?” He asked. 

“I have,” She answered, but there was a far-off look in her eyes, “Back home.” Baku shifted slightly. He wanted – no, needed – to know everything. 

Juntae, ever the hopeless romantic, perked up in his spot, “You’ve been keeping secrets. Who was he? What happened? How long were you together? Oh! What kind of dates did you go on?” 

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. Her hands at her sides shook a little with some unseen muscle memory. 

“It’s late, and I’ve had a long day. I’m heading to bed.” She changed the subject quickly, waved at them, and walked down the hallway towards her room. The sound of her bedroom door opening and closing echoed behind her. 

Baku was itching even more with his own questions. 

James, sensing the tension, chose to speak up, “She doesn’t like talking about her past relationship. Just… leave it alone.” The others nodded and muttered agreements, but Baku did not say a word. 

He sat there, fingers still wrapped around the controller, eyes fixed on the hallway where she disappeared. 

Past relationship. 

Pain in her voice. 

That look in her and James’ eyes. 

He was not entirely stupid. While Baku’s skills in a classroom were lacking, he was exceptionally good at reading people. He was well-versed in understanding people, knowing what made them tick, and, most of all, he knew about fight-or-flight reactions. 

He felt… protective. Of course, he was; he always had that feeling for those close to him. But this time it felt different, more real. Baku found himself feeling furious at whatever or whoever had made Y/N flinch like that with only a memory. 

After a long pause, he finally leaned back and tossed the controller onto the couch beside him. 

“Yeah, we’ll leave it.” 

The group stayed up a little longer watching a movie before they gradually all fell asleep in their sleeping bags. Baku, while usually a heavy sleeper, struggled that night. His eyes kept drifting to the hall, where her room was. For a good portion of the night, he noticed a faint light from under the door. Did Y/N have issues sleeping? 

A part of him wanted to get up and go over to her door. Would she want to talk? He had shifted back and forth in his sleeping bag, listening to the sound of Gotak and Suho's joint snoring. 

Eventually, though, he was able to drift off into sleep.

Baku woke up to the faint sound of shuffling in the kitchen in the room over. He glanced around to see the guys all still sleeping. Gotak had shifted in his sleep, with one of his legs now resting across Juntae, who clung to a giant pillow and drooled slightly. Sieun slept oddly straight, not moving an inch with his arms at his sides. Suho, who slept beside him, had contorted in a weird position, with his back twisted and limbs stretched out. James had his sleeping bag tucked up to his chin, sleeping peacefully.

Baku sat up and lazily shuffled out of his bag. He rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the door leading to the kitchen. The kitchen was dim, lit only by warm orange lights from under the cabinets and the faint morning light seeping in from the windows. The sun was only just starting to rise. 

In the midst of it all, Y/N shuffled back and forth from the fridge to the counter. She was clad in pink plaid pyjama pants and a matching pink spaghetti strap top. 

He almost tripped at the sight. 

Holy shit. 

Baku leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her move with quiet precision; chopping vegetables and cracking eggs one-handed like she had done it a thousand times before. 

She did not hear him at first. 

And he did not speak. 

He simply watched. 

The way her hair fell over one of her shoulders and shifted with every movement. The curve of her spine beneath the tank top. The focused line of her lips as she bit down on them slightly while whisking eggs in a bowl. 

She looked peaceful there, softer than she did at school. 

Not untouchable. Just real. 

Without looking up from her work, she spoke, “You’re staring.” 

“Maybe I’m just waiting for breakfast.” He replied as he stepped inside fully and closed the door behind him. 

She glanced at him briefly before pouring egg mix into a hot pan. It sizzled softly between them as their silence had earlier that night, the kind full of unspoken things.

“Are you going to stand there or help?” She asked as she put another pan on the stove top and began to heat the element. 

It took him a minute to realize she had said something at all. He had been too busy getting lost in the sight of her; the quiet way she moved that seemed like a dance, the focused concentration, the smell of her perfume… 

He shook himself from those thoughts. 

“Well, what are you making?” 

“A little bit of everything. I don’t know what the guys will want, so it’s best to go with some variety.” She grabbed another cutting board and pulled out a few containers of different fruit. “Would you mind cutting up some fruit? The knives should be over there.” She pointed to where they were while handling the eggs. 

Baku nodded and went to grab a knife. His eyes glanced at a hung-up frame with writing on it. His head tilted slightly as he took in the foreign letters. 

He knew some English, at least the alphabet, and tried to sound out the letters. 

Y/N instantly began to laugh and turned to face him, “What are you doing?” 

“Reading that.” He pointed to the sign, “See? I know a little English.” He smiled proudly at her, but she only gave him an amused look. 

“That's not English.” She told him. 

His eyes widened, “What?” 

“That's French.” She giggled as she scrambled the eggs. Baku leaned against the counter and began to chop the fruit. 

“You know French?” He could have sworn he saw a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. 

“Oui.” She responded, “J’ai appris le français dès mon plus jeune âge.” (Yes. I learned French at an early age.) 

Baku had no idea what she said, but his stomach fluttered at the music-like notes that left her mouth. He almost lost control of the knife and was thankful he did not make a fool of himself in front of her. Her voice had been softer, more fluid… like water running over stones in a brook. 

He did not understand a word. But he felt it. 

And damn it did something to him. 

Finally, he shook himself slightly and got back to work. 

“Alright, alright. No need to flex with fancy language skills.” He teased. There must have been something about that morning that caused her to be more open than usual, as she had laughed more than she ever had with him. 

Hearing her laugh again, watching her laugh again, he had to fight the sudden urge to do something stupid. Something like wrap his arms around her waist from behind, press his chin into her shoulder, and just—

You fucking idiot. Pull yourself together. 

Instead, he chose to continue their conversation. 

“Say something else.” He was pushing now. He knew it. But he wanted to hear more of those beautiful notes. 

Y/N paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Her eyes turned away from him and back onto the stove top as though she could not speak and face him at the same time. 

“Hier, quand je t'ai frappé à la tête, je voulais t'embrasser à la place.” (Yesterday, when I hit you on the head, I wanted to kiss you instead.) 

There was something quiet about the way she said those words that hit him. The knife in his hand stopped mid-cut of a strawberry.

Baku froze. 

Not because of the words, because he did not understand them. 

But because of the tone. 

Because her voice had dipped low, almost playful… like she was sharing a secret with someone who was not meant to hear. 

Before he could think of something to respond with, Y/N perked up like she remembered something. 

“Oh! I know we all planned to spend the day as a group, but I made plans to meet up with Minho to continue working on the project. So, I’ll be out for a few hours.” She had begun to work on other dishes. 

Just like that, Baku’s mood deflated. It was like a child watching their balloon float away. Heartbreaking, and something wanted just out of reach and got away. Slipped from his hands… 

All warmth drained from him, and he felt his jaw tighten. The casual mention of Minho, like it was normal, hit him harder than he wanted to admit. The thought of Minho spending time with his girl– 

What the fuck. 

His girl? 

He could have groaned out loud because of his thoughts. He almost laughed at himself. Baku had no right, nor reason, to think that way. 

“You gonna ditch us for your project partner again?” He tried to sound teasing, but there was an edge underneath. 

If she heard it, she made no acknowledgement of it. 

They simply moved on and continued to get the food ready as time passed. By the end, the table was loaded with different dishes, and the scent inside the kitchen was nearly irresistible. 

Baku stood there, arms still crossed, and watched her move around the table with such calm control. The way she set everything down like it was second nature, like she was used to feeding people and taking care of them.

And he thought of what she said in French. 

About how it had wrapped around his chest despite not knowing what she meant. 

“You didn’t tell me what you said,” Baku spoke softly. She stood next to him and glanced up at his face. 

Her eyes met his, and something passed between them. 

Something slow and heavy and bright all at once. 

She stared for a moment before lifting her hand and flicking his forehead like she did the day before. 

“Mon idiot.” (My idiot.) She said and moved towards the door to wake up the guys so they could eat. 

Again, he did not get it, but the words still wrapped around his heart. 

He raised a hand to his forehead, almost massaging the spot where she flicked. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The words were lost on him, but just like earlier, the tone was clear. It sounded affectionate. It had to have been. 

And damn if that did not make him want to– 

No. 

He crossed his arms and decided to distract himself by finding glasses for the table. A few minutes of struggle and some unwilling groans of sleepy teenagers, and the group were sitting around the dining table. 

Gotak was the first to taste her cooking, and he closed his eyes as he chewed. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

The table fell into a rare moment of silence. Only the sound of chewing, satisfied groans, and Juntae dramatically clutching his chest like he had been struck by Cupid himself. 

“I think I just died. This is heaven.” Juntae’s glasses had slid slightly down his nose, but he was too distracted by munching on his food to notice.

Suho nodded in agreement, “I can’t ever eat anyone else’s food again.” 

Even Sieun took a second bite without saying anything, but Baku noticed his eyes slightly widen with approval. 

Sieun’s voice came out in his regular, calm tone, “This is really good.” 

All eyes were focused on their food, but Baku only looked at Y/N. She sat in her chair across from him, smiling softly and sipping on her juice casually as if she was not being worshipped in that moment. He noticed everything about her then: how she tucked her hair behind her ear when someone complimented her, the quiet satisfaction on her face as they scarfed down the food like hungry wolves, and how warm she looked at the prospect. 

Baku almost choked when he took his first bite of a piece of egg on toast. It was all rich, perfectly sweet with a hint of saltiness. The egg mix was soft and fluffy, with just the right amount of crunch from the syrupy bread. 

He was gone. He was officially part of her cult. 

Conversation came easily amongst the group as they each had their fill until there was not a scrap left on the table. Afterwards, the guys scrambled around the kitchen to clean up. Since Y/N made the food, they insisted on cleaning up. 

She did not argue and instead went to her room to change, eventually returning with a cute but comfortable outfit.

Baku stood at the sink with a sponge in hand, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and water dripping down his forearms. He watched from the corner of his eye as she returned, dressed for casual comfort but still somehow breathtaking. A fitted sweater hugged her frame, and jeans hugged the rest. 

Y/N slung her bag over one shoulder like she was only stepping out to run an errand. 

But it was not an errand. 

It was to see him. 

Baku tried not to grit his teeth as he scrubbed harder than necessary against a plate. Gotak, who stood next to him and had been putting things away, leaned in and whispered. 

“You good, man?” 

“Fine.” He did not glance at his friend as he spoke in a clipped tone. Gotak raised an eyebrow, but chose not to push it. 

“Alright,” Y/N announced, “I’ll be out for the day to work on the project. Don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.” 

Baku kept scrubbing at the dish in front of him. He said nothing in reply. He most definitely could not look at her right then, or he would give himself away. 

“No promises!” Suho spoke as he attempted to juggle some glasses as a joke, but almost dropped them. 

Y/N stared him down in warning for a moment, sighed, and then walked to the front door to leave. Baku stood frozen at the sink until the soft click of the lock echoed through the space. That was when he turned, and his eyes locked onto the closed door. 

She was gone. Again. For hours. With someone else. 

And not just anyone. 

With Minho. The perfect, smart, responsible Minho who likely did not scorch pans when cooking, crack a joke during serious moments, or often came home with bloodied knuckles and frustration. 

Minho was the guy who made sense for a girl like her. 

And Baku? 

He was loud. He fought in alleys and basketball courts like they were war zones. He smiled too much and made impulsive decisions. He was not careful with anything except protecting what was his. 

But Y/N… she was not his to protect. 

“So… are you going to stare at the door and mope all day?” Gotak whispered to his friend. By then, everyone else except him, Gotak, and James had left the kitchen. The others were already in the living room, arguing over who got the first controller. 

Baku only grabbed the next utensil to clean. “I don’t know what you mean.” Gotak only raised his arms in surrender and left the room to join in on the game that was starting. 

James, who had been putting away a stack of plates, scoffed, “That’s a lie.” 

Baku froze mid cleaning of a chopstick. Did James know? He refused to look up. He kept scrubbing the chopstick like it had done something wrong. But inside? Heart racing. Pulse quickening. 

Baku knew then that he was not as hidden as he thought. 

Slowly, he set the chopstick down, dried his hands on a towel, and finally turned to face him with his arms crossed and jaw tight with nerves. 

“You got something to say?” He was challenging, defiant. But inside? Vulnerable. Scared of what James had to say. 

James studied him for a long moment, cold at first and protective of his sister, but then something shifted. His eyes softened. Not in approval. Not yet. But understanding. 

“She doesn’t date.” He said it slowly, like Baku needed to hear each syllable, “Not anymore. If you’re thinking what I think you are… be careful.” James was no stranger to Baku’s reputation. Yes, the basketball captain had a track record of ending fights and protecting people, but a fight was still a fight regardless of the motivation. 

“I know how to protect people,” Baku responded. 

“I know that,” James said, “But she doesn’t.” His tone gave off the impression that the conversation was over, but it did not sound entirely like a warning. 

Not quite. 

More like an opening. 

A crack in the wall around Y/N, something only someone who had seen her fall apart would know how to read. 

Baku was not stupid. He knew pain when he saw it.

He lived it; grew up with fists and fire and silence where love should have been. So when he looked at Y/N and caught those flickers of pain, something broken deep beneath the surface, beneath the sarcasm and sharp comebacks – it called to him. 

And now James was telling him in everything but the actual words: she does not know what you are capable of. She does not know you that well yet. 

He exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders back. It was the kind of movement that came before stepping into battle. Only this time, he was not going to physically fight. 

“Then I’ll make sure she knows.” No smirk this time. No playful tone buried under bravado. Just a promise. 

James sized him up for a moment before sighing as though he had only been testing the waters that whole time. 

“I can’t tell you everything. That’s her story to tell. But know that the last guy she was with,” James bit his lip as though that could stop him from speaking, “That guy was a total piece of shit. That’s as much as I can say.” 

James then moved to the door to join the guys in the living room, but spoke one last time, “Be careful and patient with her.” 

Baku stood there for a moment after James left to process all that had been said. It was not much, but he could see the pain behind them. He witnessed it; how she would occasionally retreat into herself like a wounded animal hiding from the world. 

She was strong; that much was obvious. But she was also equally as fragile. And he understood that now. He understood that they had that in common. 

Careful and patient. 

He could do that.

Time passed like this. Baku took James’s words to heart. He was patient; he did not push. He spoke with silent gestures – opening the door, pulling out a chair, bringing her cans of her favourite energy drink, sharpening her pencils during cram sessions when she was caught up in a world of her own, anything and everything. He would talk less when they hung out in groups, always holding space for when Y/N wanted to speak. 

Baku pretended none of it hurt. 

Pretended like it did not hurt when he sat by her, and his hand burned to hold hers. 

Pretended it did not hurt when other guys looked at her. 

He feigned ignorance like he was not being stabbed in the chest each time she cut her time with the group short to work on her class project with Minho. 

The days blurred together. Classes, basketball practice, laughter in the hallways, but always, always, his eyes found her. 

And always… she was slipping away. 

To him. 

Minho. 

That smug-faced, debate-winning, probably perfect in every way bastard. 

Baku did not sleep well anymore. Each time he fell asleep was a gamble. He would either have sweet dreams of Y/N or nightmares or her leaving to work on the project and never coming back. 

Every time she laughed with someone else? His chest burned. 

Every time she leaned into a conversation with someone else? His fingers itched to pull her back into his space. 

But most of all? The thing that killed him the most? 

Each time she left with Minho. 

“It’s just schoolwork,” Gotak would reassure him whenever they practiced on the court, “Nothing serious.” But Baku was not stupid. 

Love was not always loud. 

Sometimes it was quiet things: long hours together, shared focus in dimly lit libraries, whispers over notebooks, and tired smiles across a table late at night that say ‘we should go’ but never doing so. 

It was not just the hurt that gnawed at him now. It was fear. Fear that one day soon, she would look at Minho like Baku wished she would look at him. 

Baku tried to keep the jealousy contained. He really did, but it all came to a head one day. 

The project was over. Y/N and Minho had their presentation and did the debate (of which they won). There was no reason to be near him anymore, and Baku had never felt more relieved. 

Yet, on one sunny day as the group hung out on the bleachers by the basketball court, Baku saw Minho standing at the edge of the court with a bouquet of flowers. Expensive-looking ones. 

The world stopped. 

That is what it felt like. 

He stood at the edge of that court like he belonged there, like it was his place now. White lilies, red roses, soft petals that caught the sunlight like they were made for moments like this. 

And Y/N stood up. 

Without saying anything to the group, she walked towards Minho with that quiet grace she always had. Her eyes were unreadable until she reached him and took the flowers with both hands. 

A pause. 

A smile? 

Not big, not wild, but real enough to slice through Baku’s ribs and twist deep inside his chest. His friends sat silently, all watching it now. Each had caught on to the situation over time. Baku wore his heart on his sleeve; it was obvious. Now, they watched it be crushed and had no idea how to comfort. 

“Fuck.” Gotak muttered under his breath. 

Baku stood abruptly, knocking over his water bottle without caring. He did not look at anyone as he passed through them on his way down from the bleachers—he just moved fast, fists clenched at his sides so tight they trembled slightly beneath loose sleeves.

He could not watch as Y/N held flowers from someone else. 

So he walked. 

He walked, not towards home, but nowhere specific. Just away. As far as he could get before all that fire inside finally exploded. Before anyone saw how badly it hurt. 

But it never came. No explosion, no eruption. The fire sizzled away as though doused by a bucket of water. All that remained was defeat. 

Baku had not been keeping track of how many hours passed as he wandered aimlessly around the city. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in a warm orange and soft purple. The park he had ended up in was empty. Only Baku and the echoes of children’s laughter from distant memories. He sat on one of the swings with his hands gripping the cold chains tightly as his feet dragged through the dirt below. 

Was she with Minho in that moment? Did he ask her out? Was she happy about it? Would he be good to her? 

He did not want to think about it, but that was all he could do. 

Every laugh she had shared with Minho over books and papers, every time she left their group early for him, even that small smile when accepting those damn flowers. It added up. And Baku was no idiot. He knew what this felt like. It was not only jealousy. 

This was heartbreak sitting quietly in his chest, big, heavy, suffocating. And he hated it. Hated how weak it made him feel. He was supposed to be strong, the protector of Eunjang High. 

But right now? One girl had knocked him completely off balance without even realizing it. 

His hands tightened around the chains until they ached. 

Then… a sound. Soft footsteps on the gravel path as someone approached. 

“Gotak said you’d be here.” It was Y/N’s voice, but Baku could not bring himself to turn to her. She moved gently and sat down in the swing beside him, chains creaking softly at the movement. 

There was only silence. Not empty or awkward. Just full. Like the air between them had soaked up every unsaid word, every heartbeat, every moment they had danced around each other since that first day in class. 

Baku’s hands gripped the cold metal like if he let go, he would break apart right there on this playground meant for kids too young to know pain like this. 

Y/N did not push anything. She just sat beside him, swinging gently back and forth while her sneakers dug at the sand below. 

“I didn’t take them.” Her voice came out as a whisper, yet still loud in the silence of the space. His fingers twitched on the chains. 

“He gave me flowers… but I told him I don’t want them.” This caught his attention, a flicker in his eyes that was enough to show he was listening. 

His voice, hoarse from not being used for hours, responded, “Why?” 

She let out a breathless laugh. Not mocking, but not amused either. Only tired. 

“You really are an idiot.” Her words and her laugh hit him harder than he had anticipated. Not because they were cruel or filled with joy, but because they were true. 

Baku was an idiot when it came to this. He was quick with everything, impulsive, reckless, but slow with feelings. With love. He bit back his pride and turned to look at her in the fading light. 

“Why didn’t you take the flowers then?” 

“He doesn’t make me feel safe like someone else does.” She spoke softly, “Not as safe as I feel with you.” 

The words slammed into him, eliciting every feeling he could have. He turned slowly on the swing, sneakers scraping against packed earth as he faced her fully now. The last light of sunset painted one side of her face gold. Soft, real, and closer than she had ever let herself be before. 

“You feel safe with me?” A part of him felt like he did not hear her right, like something had been lost in translation, and she did not mean the words she just said. Y/N kept staring forward as the wind brushed through her hair, and for once, it felt like time slowed down just for them. 

“Because I know what kind of person you are. You fight when most run. You stay when everyone leaves. You bleed yourself dry for others and never expect repayment. And… you don’t put your hands on me unless I do it first, even though I see how badly you want to.” 

Each sentence, its gentleness, landed like a feather but carried the weight of mountains. His chest tightened painfully. 

She was not just talking about safety… 

She was talking about trust. 

About how she saw him. All of him. The rage, the loyalty, the pain, the quiet way he guarded people despite being the loudest in the school. 

And somehow, without saying it outright, she told him a simple truth: “You are not like him. You are nothing like the guy who broke me.”

His fingers uncurled from the chains, knuckles white with little blood flow. Something cracked inside, not broken, but open now. He wanted to reach for her so badly right then and there. Pull her close and never let go. 

“I may not be the best with words, but you never have to worry about feeling safe with me.” His voice cracked, low, rough like gravel under wheels. She simply smiled, and all that turmoil inside him vanished in a second. 

“I know. That’s why I came here. I don’t want flowers from anyone but you.” 

Baku’s breath caught in his throat. For a moment, the world stopped. The swing set did not creak. The wind did not move. Even the fading light paused, like it too was holding a breath. 

His eyes searched hers in the dimming light. Searching for truth, and there it was. No games. No hesitation hidden behind jokes or sarcasm, or projects and excuses to leave early. Just her. Honest on this broken playground full of childhood memories and silent pain, choosing him. 

“I don’t have flowers,” He spoke before he stood up slowly from the swing. Baku reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something new. 

Not flowers. No ribboned bouquets or soft petals meant to impress her. 

It was a small paper crane, one that was folded neatly from an old math test. It was crumpled slightly, but made nonetheless. 

It was from weeks ago. 

Back when she first sat next to him in class. When no one spoke, and silence felt heavy with things unsaid. It was so late that night when he folded it without knowing why. 

Like his hands remembered something before his heart did. 

Now, he pressed it gently into her palm and closed her fingers around it with both of his own warm hands. 

“I can’t give you much, but I will always be there. No matter what.” 

She looked down at the little crane nestled in her hand and then back up at him with eyes glassy under the sky’s last glow. For once, he did not hide how much she meant. How much she would always mean to him. 

“Next time someone tries giving you flowers, you can tell them you already have someone.” His words were confident, but inside, he was shaking. 

“That’s bold,” Y/N said with an air of ease, “At least take me out first. I have standards, you know.” 

Baku snorted at that, glad to be back to the feeling of comfort he only ever had with her. Like he could speak his mind and know he was alright to do so.  He leaned against the frame of the swing set and crossed his arms. 

“Yes, you have standards. I’m glad you recognize that I am out of your league.” 

She laughed that time, the kind of laugh that was unexpected and uncontrolled, and gave him a mock glare. Baku swore to himself that he would do anything to make that happen again, to see her augh and glare from behind lashes dusted with golden light. 

“I’m not convinced.” She challenged. 

Baku pushed off the metal and held his hand out. Y/N took it instantly, sure of the gentleness that would meet her skin despite the callouses. He pulled her up from the seat and made his way to the exit gate. 

“Where are we going?” She asked. 

“I’m taking you out.” His tone was as if it were obvious. 

That was how they found themselves half an hour later, sitting at a small, beat-up table in a hole-in-the-wall noodle spot with lanterns, sticky menus, and the scent of garlic and chilli oil thick in the air. 

They were tucked into a booth in the corner, so close that their knees touched under the table each time one of them shifted. Neither pulled away. 

Baku watched Y/N as she twirled noodles on her chopsticks with messy grace, laughing when one escaped and slapped back into her bowl. He did not care that this place was not fancy, and neither did she. 

She looked happy. 

Not careful. Not guarded. Not locked and loaded with some insult she would throw at someone to defend herself. 

She was light, like she finally remembered how to breathe without bracing for impact. 

Y/N caught him staring again, because he could not stop doing so, and raised an eyebrow while lifting a dripping strand of noodle over her bowl. 

“What?” She questioned. 

“You have sauce on your lip.” He answered. Her tongue darted out quickly, but missed it completely, and Baku felt something deep inside him tighten. 

He set his chopsticks down slowly and reached into his pocket for a crumpled but clean handkerchief he always carried. It was a habit to carry it with him at all times that started years ago when fights left blood on his knuckles. 

He leaned across the table and gently wiped it away himself. Their eyes locked as he did it, his knuckles brushing just barely against her jawline. Time stopped again. 

When he pulled back, his voice was rough in a way only truth sounds like, “Best date I've ever been on.” 

Y/N blinked at him, caught off guard by how serious he sounded despite being in some broken-down shop, eating cheap noodles like street rates. A slow smile curled at the corner of her lips, the kind meant only for moments you do not plan. Moments you earn by surviving pain and still choosing joy anyway. 

“It’s not even over yet.” She said. He grinned then, fuller than before, as if sunlight had finally broken through storm clouds after weeks of rain. 

“Good.” 

“You know,” She spoke as she raised her drink to take a sip, “You can be very poetic at times.” 

Baku leaned back in his seat, one hand resting near hers on the table – close enough that his pinky brushed hers each time one of them moved. The glow from the lanterns cast soft shadows around them. 

“Me? Poetic?” He shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like me. But you do make it easy, though. To speak, I mean.” He reached for his drink, not because he was thirsty, but because he needed something to do with his hands when she looked at him like that. Like he mattered. 

“There you go again, saying things like it doesn’t make my heart race.” 

A burst of air left his mouth, causing his drink to sputter for a moment. He frantically wiped his mouth clean while she laughed at his flustered reaction. 

“You–you can’t just say things like that!” He stuttered out with wide eyes. She giggled behind her hands, eyes creased with joy. It was a warm, soft sound that made his heart throb with every beat. How the hell was he supposed to keep his cool when she looked at him like that? 

“I’m just messing with you. I wanted to see how easy it would be to make you flustered,” She spooned some broth into her mouth before continuing, “As it turns out, it’s very easy.” 

He huffed and leaned back against his chair again, crossing his arms like a pouty child. 

“I don’t see how that’s nice.” 

She grinned because that was a sure sign she had totally and utterly flustered him. He knew she was teasing, but that did not help the rising heat in his chest. Y/N was too good at getting under his skin.

Before long, they had finished their meal. Y/N reached into her pocket to pull out her wallet, but Baku’s hand gently grabbed her wrist to stop her. 

He did not want his girl to pay. 

“You think I would ever let you pay?” Baku shook his head and pulled out his own wallet, ignoring how she rolled her eyes when he did. She knew that there was no hope in trying to argue this. 

“Have I passed your standards yet?” He teased as they left the shop and began walking down the street. It was late now, and the city was lit by sparkling signs and high rises. She hummed for a moment, pretending as though she was thinking over his question despite already knowing the answer. 

He had passed her standards long ago. 

“I'll have to think about it.” She answered. He scoffed at the way she pretended to be thinking it over. 

“Take all the time you need, princess,” He said, “I can be patient.” His words seemed to shock Y/N, as she stopped talking completely. Her eyes were wide, as if stunned by the nickname for a moment. 

They continued walking in comfortable silence down the sidewalk. The night was still young, and the lights from the high-rise buildings acted like stars in the sky. Traffic lights cycled through red, yellow, and green as cars made their way along the roads. 

Baku had glanced at Y/N for a moment and noticed her face scrunched up with discomfort. He stopped mid-step the second he saw it. It was like his senses went into overdrive seeing that look. 

His voice dropped low as he looked her over as if assessing for injuries, “What is it? Are you okay?” His hands hovered just slightly like he wanted to touch and reassure her. The streetlights flickered above them as the city hummed softly. 

She shifted on one foot, then winced again, and glanced down at her shoes. 

“It’s nothing. I didn’t expect to be walking so much today, and these shoes are not the most comfortable.” 

Baku looked down at her boots for a moment, eyes narrowed like he had a personal issue with them because they brought her discomfort. He did not say anything before turning his back to her and crouching low. 

“What are you doing?” She asked him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, voice low and firm; no room for argument. 

“You’re not walking another step in those. Get on my back.” She hesitated, obviously not wanting to be a hassle, but Baky was not waiting, “Come on, princess. I got you.” 

And just like that, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him lift her onto his back with ease. He adjusted her weight carefully, each hand going to support her thighs, and stood up carefully. 

She was light, not because she was small, but because carrying the weight of the girl who had stolen his breath felt like nothing compared to the weight he had carried alone for years. 

Her chin rested lightly on his shoulder as they started moving again through the quiet streets. A beat passed as he carried her.

“Very chivalrous of you.” She joked. 

“Only trying to hit those high standards you have.” He answered. His voice was not strained at all, carrying her with an ease that impressed Y/N. 

She did not respond because there was no need to. The silence with him was comforting. Her eyes had become heavy with exhaustion, and she nuzzled her head against his neck while closing her eyes. Baku felt it, her breath warm against his skin. His steps slowed slightly in an attempt not to jostle her as much and to prolong this moment as much as he could. 

She was warm and so soft that his whole body ached with the need to simply stay close. Keep her there. For as long as she wished. 

“Tired?” He asked lightly. 

Y/N only hummed in response. Her lips brushed his skin gently, unknowingly to her, but Baku felt it. He shuddered slightly at the contact, fighting to keep walking normally so he would not stumble and drop her. Damn, he had been turning into such a mess every time she got close. 

She was pressed close enough that he swore she could feel the way his heart was threatening to burst from his chest. 

Time passed like that until he reached her apartment door. He stood in front of her door with her on his back like some knight out of a half-remembered fairy tale from childhood. The hallway lights buzzed softly above them. 

She stirred slightly, and her arms loosened around his neck as she blinked awake, voice thick with drowsiness. 

“We’re here?” She asked. He turned slowly, carefully, and lowered her down until her feet touched the ground. 

But he did not let go of her. One hand stayed at the small of her back, just to make sure she was steady, and the other brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. 

“Yeah. Safe and sound.” He reassured her. Y/N leaned into his touch without thinking about it, eyes half lidded and trusting in a way that made something deep inside him warm with pride. Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his sweatshirt on his chest. 

A quiet beat passed. 

“You didn’t ask me yet.” 

“What?” Baku's eyebrows furrowed. 

“To be your girlfriend.” She said bluntly. It seemed her proximity to exhaustion was a recipe for honesty.

Baku’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to recover from shock, “Well, I don’t know if I’ve hit those standards you have, princess.” 

She stared at him for a moment, “You really are an idiot.” 

Baku scoffed jokingly, “How many times have you called me that? You know, I'm starting to see a pattern.” She smiled at him, watching as his eyes narrowed in a joking manner that showed he was not truly offended. 

He began to rant with a tone of amusement, “You know, I’m starting to think you’re a bully. I mean, why would–” 

Y/N cut off his rambling by standing on her toes and giving him a quick peck on the lips. It was short, as quick as a blink, but it managed to stop his words in his throat. His eyes widened, and his body froze up. There was no thought behind his eyes, as though the software that was his brain had malfunctioned. 

“You talk too much sometimes.” She said. 

His lips tingled. That tiny soft peck that was over in just a second burned through him like wildfire. His mouth parted, closed, and opened again. No words came out. Not even a joke. No comeback. Nothing from the guy who never shut up, who always had some smart-ass comment ready to fire back. 

And she just stood there, smirking at him like she had not just dismantled his entire being with one move. 

“You–you just. You can’t just… do that.” His voice sounded almost out of breath, despite not doing anything strenuous. 

“Why not?” 

He groaned low in his throat and dragged both hands down his face like he could wipe away the flustered mess she turned him into, but it did not help. Nothing would help this. Her hands still gripped the front of his sweater. His hands dropped to her waist and looked at her with a quiet intensity only he could pull off: dangerous and softened by pure affection. 

“Because now I’m going to want it again.” 

And before she could tease him or mutter the word idiot again, he closed the gap between them. One hand moved to cup her jaw gently, but he still made sure to position himself in a way that if she wanted to pull away, she could. However, she did not, and it only encouraged him to lean in further. They backed up while still kissing until her back hit the wall, but he made sure to cushion the back of her head.

It was not a quick peck this time. It was deep. Patient. Sure. 

A kiss that conveyed everything he wanted to say: I've been yours since day one. You’re safe here. And you know damn well I am keeping you. 

When they pulled apart, just slightly, he kept his forehead pressed against hers. 

“Still think I talk too much?” 

“Shut up.” She spoke quickly before leaning in to kiss him again, as though she, too, had become as addicted to this feeling as he. His lips moved in sync against hers, parting and closing as he pulled her as close as he could. 

However, their third kiss was cut off by the sound of a low cough. They stopped immediately, pulling away slightly to see a sight that struck them both with fear. 

There, in the doorway to her apartment, stood James. His arms were crossed, and the look on his face was nearly indescribable. There was a hint of disgust at the sight, but ultimately, the unbridled rage caused one of his eyebrows to twitch. His look was a perfect blend of ‘I’m going to kill you’ and ‘I can’t beleive this is happening.’ 

Baku instinctively stepped slightly in front of Y/N, like some primal part of him had to shield her, even though he knew James would do nothing to his sister but most definitely disown him as a friend and beat him into next week. 

And honestly? 

Baku would not blame him. 

“Wow. Real smooth, Baku. Sweeping my sister off her feet and making out in front of our door like it’s a drama.” James’s voice was dry and mixed with barely controlled anger. 

Y/N peeked around Baku’s shoulder, her face flushed red, and let out a groan. 

“James, we weren’t–” 

“You were absolutely doing exactly what I think you were doing,” He then pointed at Baku, “And you? Don’t even try and start with me.” Baku held his hands up in surrender, but there was a slight grin that tugged at his lips as the shock had worn off. He was glad Y/N had such a protective brother; she would be safe regardless of whether he was nearby. 

“She said yes.” Baku’s words hinted back at the day, weeks ago, when they spoke in the apartment kitchen. 

Silence for half a second. 

James blinked, caught off guard. Then, he sighed deeply… dramatically… like only an older twin brother could do when faced with this situation. He looked between them: at how close they stood, at how Baku’s eyes kept drifting over her like she could vanish at any moment, and finally, he stepped aside. 

He did not look angry anymore, not entirely. Just tired, resigned. But also accepting. A begrudging approval. 

Maybe not approval yet, not until he made damn sure nothing could ever hurt his sister again. 

But for now? Fine. Whatever. Let it happen. Because deep down, he knew, if anyone could keep her safe, it would be Baku.

“Y/N,” James spoke, “Do you mind going inside for a moment?” 

She stayed still, as if she was not going to move, but decided it was best to listen to him. Her eyes made contact with Baku for a moment, like some wish of good luck, before she walked into the apartment. James stepped out and closed the door behind him. 

“I think you already know what’s coming, but it’s standard procedure.” James crossed his arms and sized up his friend, “You hurt her, I don’t care if you’re tall as fuck or built like a tank, you will disappear, do you hear me?” 

Baku nodded solemnly, even though inside he wanted to laugh. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that they were outmatched pairs. James, while fit, would be no match if they were to fight, but Baku nodded nonetheless to keep the peace. 

“I’ll hurt myself before hurting her,” Baku answered honestly. 

“Good response.” James blinked, “Now get out of here, before I change my mind.” 

Baku pressed his hand to his forehead in a salute, “Yes, sir.” 

“Now you’re pushing it.” James deadpanned. 

“Yeah, shit, I kinda guessed the moment those words left my mouth.” Baku winced as he turned around to start walking down the hallway. A small puff of air left James’s nose as he shook his head and walked back into the apartment. 

Baku was in the clouds his entire walk home. He smiled until his cheeks ached, and there was a pep in his step. Hell, if he could, he would probably be singing. 

The energy that buzzed through him stayed there long after he had gotten settled in bed. Baku lay sprawled across his bed with one arm thrown over his eyes, the other gripping his phone like a lifeline. The screen was still lit up from the last text he had sent her—something stupid like “still awake?”—but he wasn’t even checking for a reply anymore.

He was too busy replaying every second of that night in his head. The swing set, the noodles, her laugh. The way they kissed. 

His chest felt too tight. His skin buzzed everywhere she had touched him. And each time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, all he could picture was Y/N. 

Baku rolled onto his side for a moment, punching the pillow to fluff it up, before flopping onto his back again. 

His phone buzzed, and the lock screen lit up with a new message. He scrambled to pick it up, heart racing. There, in a notification, was a response. 

Y/N: Can’t sleep either?

Baku: Nah, I’m totally asleep right now. This is my ghost.

Y/N: Ghosts don’t text. 

He laughed for a moment, picturing the deadpanned face she likely had while typing it. 

Baku: Mine does. Also, he says you’re cute and that you should call me.

The three dots of her typing appeared, disappeared, and reappeared before leaving a final time. His screen lit up with an incoming call. Baku answered before the first ring even finished, and his voice was laced with something warm and rough all at once. 

“Hey princess,” He shuffled to get comfortable, “Did James grill you when I left?” 

A soft sigh mixed with amusement sounded over the speaker, “You don’t know the half of it, freaking out over ‘his little sister’. What about you? I’m guessing he threatened you or something?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Baku reassured, “It’s understandable. If I had a sister, I would do the same.” 

“It was funny, though, that look on his face. I’ve never seen him more horrified and disgusted.” She laughed, and he heard the sound of her settling into bed. 

Baku laughed as well. In the moment, he had been scared of what James was going to do, but now he could finally find amusement in it. 

“Poor guy, we almost gave him a heart attack.” 

“Well, you were kissing me at our front door. Of course, he would freak out.” She said. 

“Hey,” Baku pulled up his blanket and glanced out his window at the dark sky, “You kissed me first.” 

“You saying I shouldn’t have?” She teased. 

“No!” His response was immediate, and he flushed with embarrassment at how eager he had sounded. He coughed to clear his throat and lowered his voice to a more casual tone, “I mean, no.” 

The two got quiet again and soaked up each other's presence, even if it was over the phone. A heartbeat passed, then two. 

“Don’t eat breakfast tomorrow.” Baku finally spoke. 

“What?” Y/N asked. 

“I’m taking my girl out tomorrow before school,” Baku responded confidently as he turned on his side. 

“Oh, it’s ‘your girl’ now, is it?” He heard the sound of a lamp turning off on her end. 

“Yup,” He responded, “So get some sleep, I’ll be picking you up early. Goodnight, princess.” 

A few seconds passed, and she gave a quiet yawn so cute that Baku wished he were there to see, before responding with a tone full of warmth. “Goodnight, mon idiot.” 

The line clicked off, and Y/N and Baku glanced out of each of their perspective windows at the darkened sky; each excited for when the sun rises. 

On Y/N’s nightstand stood the paper crane, placed delicately under her lamp.