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In all things, he's learned to accept.
Accept his lot, his position in the world. The kid that gets passed over, the kid that gets picked on, the kid that gets overlooked. The boy that the teacher has to assign a partner on school projects, the boy picked last for any team sport in gym, the boy secluded to the outside, doomed to forever be sitting at the window, looking in on what will never be his.
At some point, Ken learned to accept. Accept that this would be his fate. Accept that he would always want more, and accept that he could never have it. Always the outsider. It was okay. It was fine. This is just the way it has to be.
Really, it was only one day that would always manage to remind him, brutally, just what he was.
It was for that reason that school festivals were always the worst day of the year. A stark, painful reminder that he was, and would always be, the outcast.
And so it was, the start of the festival in his second year of high school, he resigned to the same old story. The same old experience of watching the people pass him by, overhearing their laughter, their conversation. Never for him to know, never for him to experience. Another day on the outside. Another day on the periphery, just outside of frame-
A shoulder, shoving into his as he passes through the school gate. Quinacridone eyes, alight with excitement, boring into his. Lips he's stared at far too often, visibly fighting the desire to curl up into a smile.
"Oi," says the dream given form. "You're late! C'mon, the others are ahead already."
Ah. That's right.
He's not alone anymore.
Something he's had to get used to (and enjoyed very much) is Momo's general… touchiness.
Really, she's always been like this. Since the day they met, when aliens proved to be just as capable of evil as humans, and ghosts proved to be just as real as flesh and blood, Momo being touchy just became another fact of the world. A fact that brings him much more joy than the first two.
Funny. Tell him a year ago that learning aliens were indeed real wouldn't be the best thing that happened to him on the day of discovery, he likely would have laughed in your face.
But as Momo drags him by the hand, fingers threaded tightly through his in a manner almost possessive, he cannot help but be reminded. Compared to the look in her eyes as she turns back to smile at him, the existence of aliens seems downright mundane. He'd been so amazed at the idea of being her friend.
Somewhere over the course of countless "see your tomorrow"s, countless close calls, countless quick and subtle touches when no one was looking, and now… they're something. Something unspecified, unnamed, but certainly more than friends. He may be dense, but he isn't stupid, and she has never once been subtle.
They've been in this limbo for quite some time now, perhaps neither ready for something named, something that can be ruined, but Ken finds that it doesn't bother him as much as he would have thought. Not when she so readily seeks him out, so joyously showers him in affection. No, he understands that she could never once just be 'stringing him along'. She just wasn't ready yet. And that was okay.
Frankly, Ken thinks it would be okay if she never was.
A swipe of a thumb across his knuckles, as Momo slows her pace to match his. "You good? Seem a bit spaced."
Asking if he's good. Like he could ever be anything else, when his hand was in hers.
"I'm great," he says, smiling softly.
"Alright, weirdo," she mumbles, eyes turned away from him.
Another thing about Momo he's come to learn. For someone so loud, so brash, she's also adorably shy. Sometimes, he wonders if she's even aware how obvious she is.
Still, her grip on his hand tightens.
"S-So, where are we meeting the others," he asks, hoping she'll ignore the-
"What's with the stammer?" Of course she doesn't, mischievous gaze on him once more. "You're pretty red too, y'know."
"You're-… you're literally-" he groans, frustrated and not at the same time, not sure how to point out the fact that her own face is still a light shade of pink. "Don't talk to me."
She snorts, bumping shoulders with him. "You can't get enough, don't lie."
"Yeah, yeah…" he grumbles, trying to ignore just how blatant her flirting has become. "Anyway… the others?"
"They're uhhh… somewhere," she says with a shrug. "Kinda figured we could just check out some of the classes by ourselves, y'know? If that's…"
"It's more than okay," he answers the unfinished question. Even while not looking directly at her, he can feel her smile. It moves something in his soul, almost.
"Good to know, Okarun," she giggles, pulling him along. "Now pick up the pace! I'm fuckin' starving, dude!"
"When are you not- OW!"
False teal-and-red nails dig into the back of his hand, her face contorted into a pout for the ages. "Don't go sayin' that, jackass! Is that how you treat a lady?"
"Is there a lady here?" He dramatically swivels his head, searchingly. "Where?"
"Oh my-" Momo emits a series of sounds that could scarcely be called words. "I'm gonna fucking kill you. I'm gonna take you out back and shoot you."
He snickers now, giving her hand a squeeze. "You're not that convincing when you won't even let go of my hand."
Light pink turns into a deep red, stammered words and squeaks being all that she can manage. "Sh-Shut the fuck up! God, you're so annoying!"
And yet her hand remains firmly in his.
There's a list of things, somewhere in Momo's head or heart or whatever, describing all the things she loves about her Okarun.
Chief among them was safety.
It's hard to explain. Obviously, he's saved her countless times, and has been the ace up her sleeve even more times than that. She knows that, whatever they may face, he will always do everything he can to keep her safe. Even, worryingly, if it's at the expense of his own safety.
But it's more than that, really.
Momo has, since she was little, always been told that she's a lot. Sometimes jokingly, a lot of times not. Unfortunately for the people in her life, Momo is also stubborn to a fault. At some point, she started to embrace the idea of being a lot, largely out of spite. She would never apologize for being herself, and fuck anyone who ever made her feel like she should.
That didn't change the fact that it hurt every single time someone did.
But with Okarun, it's never felt that way. Not even for a second. Where most boys she's known in the past would get angry and tell her to quiet down, or be embarrassed by her… everything, Okarun often just laughs. Or gives her that kind of smile. The kind that she's tucked away somewhere deep inside, to hold close to her heart at all times.
Sometimes, though, Okarun would join her in being just as much. That was something new.
That was how she found herself here, sitting at a table in one of the third year classes, turned into a ramen shop, looking like an absolute idiot. Or maybe being an absolute idiot.
All because her other half was so willing to be an absolute idiot with her, ramen ballooned up in his squishy cheeks like he was going to store it away for winter, half the noodles still hanging out, baptized in the broth of the bowl.
Momo's approach is different, and no more dignified. Her bowl is to her mouth as she chugs down the broth and all that came with it, barely processing the tonkatsu as she devours everything with an avarice typically reserved for devil-lords and CEOs.
She's aware, somewhere in the back of her mind, of a lot of eyes resting on the two of them, almost in horror. She just can't find it in her to care. The only thing that matters right now… the only thing…
Two bowls clatter against the table in tandem, both empty, as rosewood pink and coffee brown eyes meet.
"I WIN!" They both say in unison.
A moment passes before Momo falls back into her seat, arms folded. "A fuckin' tieeeee? What the hell, Okarun?"
"I think a tie should still count as a victory for me," he says, triumphant.
"HAH?!"
"Ayase-san, you yelled that it was a race as they were setting mine down. You had a solid three second head start, and we finished at the same time," he chides. "Take away that head start, and who would have won?"
"Sorry, didn't realize we were doin' math here," she grouses, turning her head away from him. "Just accept that we were evenly matched, this time around."
"We… we literally weren't. I should have won."
"Will you let it go already? Who the hell cares this much about a ramen eating contest?!"
"YOU DO!" She'd never say it aloud, but his squawky, indignant voice is a favorite of hers. Sadly for him, it's sort of adorable. "I've never seen someone eat ramen like that! It was like watching a war crime!"
"'WAR CRIME'?!"
"WAR CRIME! I felt bad for the ramen!"
"Well I'm sooo sorry that me eating bothered you and your chipmunk-ass cheeks sooo much," she says, huffing and hmphing. "Seriously, how do they even stretch out like that?"
"You don't seem to mind too much," he says, a small and very hot cruel smile coming to his face. "Seeing as I catch you staring at them all the time."
When the hell did this happen?
At some point, Momo woke up to an Okarun who was confident enough to tease her. Her. For liking him?!
"AS IF I'M THE ONLY ONE STARING!" Oh she is way louder than could ever be considered appropriate. "You think I ain't see how often your four-eyed ass is starin' at me? It's the least subtle fuckin' thing maybe fuckin' ever! Don't go throwin' that shit on me…"
"Um… e-excuse me?" Momo and Okarun's eyes are drawn to someone new, an intruder to their conversation. One of the servers, nervously scuttling forward. "I-I, um… i-it's just… y-you're very l-loud and I think w-we have to ask you t-to go…"
"Hah?" Momo gave the intruder a withering look. "Listen, we paid to-"
"Ayase-san, didn't you want to check out more of the events anyway?" His voice cuts her off, as he rises, giving the server a bow. "I'm sorry for the disruption. Please don't think poorly of her."
"You can think poorly of me," she grumbles, but acquiesces to Okarun's reaching hand, even if she is still at least pretending to be annoyed with him.
"Thank you for the food," he calls out cheerily over a shoulder, which she grumbles an agreement to.
Finally out in the hall again, stomach full, she finds that it is nice to be away from the classroom full of eyes. Part of her, distantly, feels bad for having made a scene. Really, it's less that she's embarrassed, but that small voice in her head can't help but worry that she's embarrassed him.
But he holds her hand so easily, even still. And despite the venom they had been spewing at each other mere seconds before (she doesn't know any other way to flirt), he smiles at her so freely.
God. Someday she was gonna devour this boy if he wasn't careful.
"What next, Ayase-san?"
She huffs at him, not quite ready to stop pouting. "I heard 2-F has circus-type games. Win me somethin'?"
Yeah, it was absolutely a girlfriend type of request, but she can't really find it in her to care much about the optics. She just hopes the pout would be enough to sell it.
Thankfully, he just chuckles brightly at her.
"Yeah, okay," he says. "I'll win you whatever you want."
For someone that talked a big game, it turns out, her Okarun kinda sucks at all things circus game related. Throw the hoop on the bottle? Somehow it landed around her neck. And god knows, he's even worse with the darts. Like, dangerous worse.
Poor guy seemed so embarrassed the whole time, but she apparently has a soft spot for kinda pathetic badasses. Watching him fumble was just… too endearing for her to handle. Looking at him and knowing that this was the same boy who became a monster for her, it made her heart beat all kinds of fast.
Maybe she's just as pathetic as he is. After all, eventually she broke down and played one of the games, just to win him a silly little alien stuffy he had been subtly eyeing. She finds that she doesn't mind too much, being the one to win him a prize. Hell, the way he beamed at her kinda made it all worth it.
Still, their time alone is probably gettin' kinda limited. She had pulled a lot of strings to try to make sure all of their friends were otherwise occupied, including a lifetime of favors cashed in from Miko and Kei, all just to have this little nerd to herself for a little bit. And really, all the Machiavellian scheming had been worth it.
It was always worth it, if it meant she could be with him.
"Alright, Okarun," she says, trying not to smile too obviously at how closely he hugged the stuffy. This was the same guy that fought literal demons for her. "Don't got a ton of time left 'fore we gotta catch the others. Anything else you wanna do before then?"
His face flushes, in such a way that she knows his answer is a lie. "N-No, not really."
"Oiii," she says in warning. "Don't bullshit me. What is it?"
"I s-said nothing!"
"Okarun, dude," Momo sighs. "Like, I hate to break this to ya, but I know you well enough to know when you're lyin'. C'mon, I won't make fun of ya. Just tell me?"
He looks at her for a long second, face coloring in. Finally, his head drops, gaze going to his shoes. "I… um. There was… a photo booth?"
She stops walking, her hand on his arm drawing him to a stop to. Curious, abashed coffee eyes come to her face. "Y-You wanna… go to a photo booth with me?"
"Yeah," he says. "Y-Yeah, I guess it's kinda dumb-"
"Not at all," she cuts him off before the spiral could start. "I'm just surprised, is all. I know you're not really one for pictures."
"Well…" his voice is even more hesitant now, the way it always gets when he's debating on whether or not to say something. "I… I just, uh… I dunno. I only really have one picture of us together and… and I love it, it's great, but Miko-san and Kei-san are also in it, s-so… it's not just… you know…"
Okay, yeah, she was going to eat him up real soon at this rate. He's not doing himself any favors in that department. But god, her blush probably mirrors his, and he is trying so hard not to look at her now.
"Oh?" Her voice is coy, teasing. "Sorry, I wanna understand here. You're sayin' you want a picture of just us? Just us together-"
"You said you wouldn't make fun of me!"
"Oh, I'm not makin' fun of you," she says, moving further into his space, leaning bodily into him. "I think it's a great idea, y'know."
"R-Really?"
"Really."
She doesn't tell him about the gallery of pictures on her phone, kept private, of him. It was always random moments, him eating, him reading at the foot of her bed, him arguing with Erosuke, so on. So many photos, and she loves every one of them, even the ones that are unflattering. Really, those are her favorites.
He really is beautiful.
Her only regret thus far is not having any photos of the two of them together. It wasn't his kinda thing, she accepted that, and for as obnoxious as she no doubt is, she wanted to respect him too.
So what a lovely turn of events this is.
The photo booth is pretty generous in it's size, meant for up to four, so there's no practical reason for her to sit all up in his space the way she does. As she clambers in, though, she notices a protrusion in his pocket.
"Hey," she says, nodding at the outcropping. "Whatcha got there? Or are ya just excited to see me?"
"I-" he deadpans at her phrasing, making her giggle. Still, his face turns that lovely shade she's been treated to so much today. "I, um… I did a bad thing."
She raises a brow at that. She loves him dearly, but she's always known him to be a sorta… goody two-shoes. "Yeah? What's that?"
"I… really wanted to win you something, but I'm apparently awful at carnival games, so…" He reaches into his pocket, producing a small box from within. "I… stole it. Um. Yeah."
The way he held the box out to her… something about it… "Dude if you're like proposin' right now, that's hella bold. Skippin' a lot of stages there, aren't ya-"
"IT'S A RING POP," he squeaks. "I stole a ring pop for you, don't bully me like this."
She snickers, taking the box from him as she settles into her seat beside him. The ring pop is blue and red. She's not even really into them, but there's a sorta beauty to it right about now.
"Asking me if I'm proposing," he grumbles beside her. "As if I'd propose to you in a photo booth."
Ah. So he's not saying he wouldn't propose to her. No, just that he would do better than this if/when he did.
Something in Momo stirs. Some part of her that was so afraid of this becoming something real, something with stakes… something she could mess up… it dies in that moment.
She isn't sure what it is. Only that, right now, she was tired of pretense. Of pretending that they're not what they absolutely are.
"Hey," she breathes, looking into the camera. "I'm in love with you. Have been for a long time now."
Click.
"Yeah," he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "I'm in love with you. Have been since the beginning."
Click.
"Cool," she says, her own smile bright in a way she doesn't think any camera could register. "I'm gonna kiss you now."
"Ayas-!"
Click.
Their first kiss is on camera. As is their second, third, fourth.
Poor Okarun stumbles out of the photo booth, lipstick marks on every part of his cheeks, temples, jaw, and mouth. It was so apparent what she'd done, hell, they had photographic evidence.
And she would be keeping that evidence forever.