Work Text:
It all started with a text message.
“the star!: hello darling!! now that we are officially courting each other, shall we think of where to have our first date?”
Tsukasa remembered how much his hands had shaken when he sent it.
On the screen, it looked natural—bright, confident, perfectly him. The kind of message he sent without hesitation every day. But the moment it went through, reality crashed down on him all at once.
He dropped his phone onto the bed and buried his face into his pillow with a muffled groan. 'Why did I send that?!', he thought. 'That was too much. Way too much. Too sudden. Too bold. Too—Tsukasa.'
His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it could be heard from the hallway.
They’d only been officially dating for a week. Just one week. And even then, nothing had really changed on the surface. They still walked to their classrooms together when their schedules lined up. Still shared lunch on the rooftop when they could escape the noise below. Still talked quietly, close enough that their shoulders sometimes brushed.
But now… everything felt different.
Every glance lasted a little longer. Every smile felt warmer. Every accidental touch sent his thoughts spiraling. And yet, despite being together now, they still hadn’t had time to be together—not properly. No dates. No outings. Nothing outside of school or theater practice.
No one knew, either. Not Emu, not Rui. It felt fragile somehow, like a small secret they were holding carefully between their hands. Tsukasa didn’t want it to break before it had the chance to shine.
Still… he wanted more. He wanted time with her that wasn’t borrowed between classes. Time where they didn’t have to rush off the moment the bell rang.
His phone chimed. Tsukasa froze. For a full five seconds, he didn’t move. He stared at the screen like it might explode if he touched it. Slowly—very slowly—he reached out and flipped the phone over.
“the diva!: please never call me that again… but i’d like that. are you free this weekend? i heard from Aoyagi-kun about an aquarium that opened… maybe we could go together?”
His breath caught. An aquarium.
The word alone painted pictures in his mind—dim blue lights, glass walls filled with drifting shadows, the quiet hush that made everything feel softer somehow. Somewhere calm. Somewhere peaceful.
Somewhere… with her. Tsukasa sat up so suddenly his pillow slid onto the floor.
She said yes. Not just yes—but she suggested a place too.
His chest felt warm, almost dizzyingly so, and before he could stop himself, a bright, breathless laugh slipped out of him. He pressed a hand to his face, trying—and failing—to stop his smile from stretching too wide.
'This is really happening', he thought.
After a moment of frantic pacing around his room—and rewriting his reply at least five times—he finally typed back.
Carefully this time. Trying not to let his excitement spill too obviously through the screen, even though his heart was already shining brighter than ever.
~
Tsukasa arrived at the aquarium thirty minutes early. He’d told himself he wouldn’t—he knew he wouldn’t—but the moment he’d checked the time that morning, his legs had already carried him out the door.
Now he stood just outside the tall glass building, hands clasped tightly in front of him, eyes flicking between the entrance and his phone far too often. The faint blue glow from inside spilled through the glass panels, reflecting across the pavement and making everything feel strangely unreal.
Calm down, he told himself for what must’ve been the tenth time. You are Tsukasa Tenma. You are radiant. You are confident. You are—
He adjusted his sleeves again. And again.
His heart thudded painfully in his chest, equal parts excitement and nerves. This wasn’t a performance. There was no script, no stage directions, no rehearsal. Just him. Just her.
When footsteps approached, Tsukasa barely registered them—until he looked up.
And forgot how to breathe.
Nene had almost turned around and left. Not because she didn’t want to be here—quite the opposite—but because the moment she spotted Tsukasa standing outside the entrance, pacing just slightly, her heart jumped uncomfortably in her chest.
He’s already here… because of course he was.
He looked nervous in a way she rarely saw: posture too straight, hands fidgeting, eyes scanning the area like he was waiting for a cue. It was oddly endearing.
She hesitated for just a second before walking closer. “…Tsukasa?” she said, tilting her head slightly.
That snapped him out of it—almost.
“H–Hello!!” he said far too loudly, straightening immediately. “You’re right on time! I, um— I was just—standing here. Waiting. Very normally.”
Nene squinted at him. “…You’ve been here a while, haven’t you.”
“…Perhaps,” he admitted, shoulders sagging a little. “Only thirty minutes.”
She sighed, then lightly elbowed his arm. “You’re unbelievable.” But she was smiling.
Tsukasa opened his mouth to respond—then stopped again. He hadn’t realized he was still staring.
'Why is he looking at me like that?' she wondered, suddenly hyper-aware of her clothes, her hair, the way the breeze brushed against her sleeves. She’d told herself not to overthink it—this wasn’t a performance, not like his—but standing there under his full attention made her chest feel warm and tight all at once.
“…Is something on my face?” she asked.
“N–No!” he said quickly, far too loudly. “You just— you look… really pretty.”
Her brain short-circuited. For a moment, she forgot how to respond. Compliments weren’t something she handled well—especially not from him, not when he said it so honestly, without hesitation.
Heat rushed to her face. She looked away for a second, clearly flustered—before elbowing him again, a little firmer this time.
When she looked back at him, she noticed the care he’d clearly put into his appearance. The way his clothes were neatly pressed. How his hair was styled just a little differently than usual.
“You do too,” she muttered. “So stop staring.”
His reaction was instant. His eyes lit up so brightly that Nene had to look away again.
“R–Really?!” he asked, touching his hair without thinking. “I spent a long time choosing this outfit! I wanted something appropriate but also impressive but not overwhelming and—”
She laughed softly. She couldn’t help thinking how unfair it was—how easily he showed his feelings, how openly he shone. And yet, standing there with him, she didn’t feel overwhelmed.
She felt… safe. Comfortable.
They talked for a bit—about how long he’d been waiting (too long), about how busy the aquarium looked, about nothing important at all. Still, Nene found herself watching him more than the building behind him.
She liked this version of him. Nervous. Earnest. Trying his best.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was softer. “…Ready to go in?”
He nodded immediately, then hesitated before extending his hand, stopping halfway as doubt crossed his face. “I mean—only if you want to,” he rushed out. “We can just walk too, I just thought—”
Nene didn’t let him finish. She slipped her hand into his.
His fingers tensed for just a moment before relaxing, warm and careful around hers.
“Let’s go,” she said.
As they stepped inside together, blue light washed over them both, and Nene felt something settle gently in her chest.
Maybe she was nervous too, but if being nervous meant moments like this—quiet, warm, and just theirs— then maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
~
The moment they stepped inside, the world softened.
Light dimmed into shades of blue and teal, reflections rippling faintly across the floor as water moved behind thick glass walls. The air was cooler than outside, carrying the quiet hum of filters and distant voices echoing gently through the halls.
Tsukasa slowed, letting go of her hand without realizing it. Everything felt… different in here. Calmer. Like the aquarium demanded quieter thoughts.
“This place is bigger than I thought,” he whispered, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the fish.
Nene glanced at him. “You don’t have to whisper.”
“I know!” he said quickly. “…But it feels like I should.”
She huffed a small laugh.
They walked side by side, their steps naturally falling into the same rhythm. At the first exhibit, a wide tank stretched along the wall, schools of silver fish darting in unison before scattering again.
Tsukasa leaned forward immediately, eyes sparkling. “Look at that coordination! Incredible! They move like a perfectly rehearsed ensemble—”
“You would compare fish to a stage performance,” Nene said, though she didn’t sound annoyed.
“Everything can be compared to theatre if you think hard enough!”
She watched the fish for a moment longer, then found herself watching him instead.
He looked… relaxed. Not performing, not projecting his voice or shining on purpose—just genuinely fascinated. It was a side of him she didn’t get to see often.
“…They’re kind of pretty,” she admitted quietly.
He turned toward her, smiling. “Right?”
That simple agreement made her chest warm.
They moved on slowly, stopping wherever something caught their attention. A tank of brightly colored coral. A display with tiny seahorses clinging to artificial reeds. A sign Tsukasa insisted on reading out loud before Nene told him she could read perfectly fine herself. Still, she let him finish.
At one point, they stood close together to peer into a smaller tank, shoulders nearly touching. Nene noticed it immediately—and tried very hard not to think about it.
Don’t be weird, she told herself. It’s just crowded.
But it wasn’t really crowded yet.
Tsukasa shifted slightly to give her more space, then hesitated, clearly unsure if moving away would make things awkward. The indecision made her almost smile.
“You can stay there,” she said.
“…I can?”
“Yeah. I don’t mind.”
He nodded a little too fast. “O–Okay!”
They stayed like that for a while, watching a stingray glide past the glass. Its movement was slow, graceful, almost lazy.
Nene liked how quiet it was between them. Usually, silence made her uneasy—made her feel like she needed to fill it. But this silence felt different. Comfortable. Shared.
She wondered if Tsukasa felt it too.
He did.
Walking beside her like this, Tsukasa felt the nervous energy in his chest slowly unwind. He still felt excited, still aware that this was their first real date—but it didn’t feel overwhelming anymore.
It felt… right.
Every so often, he’d glance her way just to make sure she was still there. Every time, she was—looking at the tanks, reading plaques, occasionally glancing back at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He smiled every time.
“Do you want to see the tunnel next?” he asked.
Nene nodded. “Sure.”
As they headed down the hall together, blue light deepening around them, neither noticed how close they were walking now—how their sleeves brushed with each step.
Or how neither of them moved away.
~
The tunnel exhibit was far more crowded than the rest of the aquarium.
The moment they stepped inside, the air felt different—thicker somehow, filled with overlapping voices and the constant shuffle of footsteps against the floor. Blue light curved above them through the glass ceiling, rippling as water shifted overhead. Shadows of fish passed slowly, stretching and warping across the walls.
Nene instinctively slowed. The space felt narrower than it looked, bodies pressing closer together as people stopped abruptly to take pictures or point upward. Conversations blended into one another, rising and falling in uneven waves.
Tsukasa noticed her hesitation immediately. “It’s… louder here,” he said, voice gentler than before, as if trying not to add to the noise.
“Yeah,” she replied, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. “I didn’t think there’d be this many people.”
They walked closer now—not touching, but near enough that she could feel the warmth at his side whenever someone passed too close. A child darted by, laughter echoing sharply before disappearing into the hum.
Something brushed her sleeve. She flinched slightly.
Tsukasa shifted instinctively, placing himself just a bit closer to her side. He didn’t say anything, but she noticed the movement anyway.
Above them, a ray glided overhead, its wide body casting a slow shadow across the tunnel. For a moment, the light dimmed, everything tinted deep blue.
Someone bumped Tsukasa’s shoulder.
“Ah—sorry,” he murmured automatically, even though it wasn’t his fault. He stumbled a half-step, then turned at once. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Nene said, though her voice sounded smaller here than it had earlier.
They kept moving. The crowd thickened near the center of the tunnel. People stopped without warning, phones lifted, flashes blinking softly against the glass. The flow of movement broke apart, pulling people in different directions.
Nene glanced up again—just briefly, following the shadow of a school of fish drifting overhead.
When she looked back—
Tsukasa wasn’t beside her anymore.
Her steps faltered.
The warmth at her side was gone, replaced by unfamiliar shoulders and backs. She turned slightly, then fully, eyes searching through the blur of movement. “…Tsukasa?” she said.
Her voice was nearly swallowed by the noise.
A tight feeling settled in her chest—not fear exactly, but something close to it. Her fingers curled reflexively, as if reaching for something that wasn’t there.
At the same time, Tsukasa felt the absence like a sudden drop. He turned, expecting to see her just behind him.
She wasn’t.
His breath caught.
“Nene?” he called, louder than before, though he didn’t shout.
People continued to move around him, brushing past, blocking his view. The tunnel suddenly felt far too long, the blue light pressing in from all sides.
Then—there. He spotted her a few steps away, standing still amid the moving crowd, eyes scanning anxiously. Relief rushed through him so fast it made his chest ache.
“Nene!”
She looked up instantly.
Their eyes met. He didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate.
Tsukasa pushed through the last bit of space between them and reached out, fingers closing around her hand.
Warm. Solid. Real.
Nene startled at the sudden contact, breath hitching—but the moment she realized it was him, her shoulders loosened.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, thumb tightening around her hand as if afraid she might slip away again. “I should’ve stayed closer—”
“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I just… lost track for a second.”
They stood there, still holding hands, the noise of the tunnel continuing around them. Footsteps passed. Voices rose and fell. Water filtered softly above. Yet somehow, it felt quieter between them.
Nene was the first to notice they hadn’t let go.
She glanced down at their joined hands, her thumb brushing lightly against his knuckles. She could pull away. She knew she should probably say something, but she didn’t want to. Instead, she tightened her grip—small, hesitant, but deliberate.
Tsukasa felt it and froze. “…Is this okay?” he asked, voice barely above the hum of the tanks.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
They began walking again, this time moving carefully together. Tsukasa stayed half a step ahead, gently guiding them through the crowd, never loosening his hold. Every so often, he glanced back to make sure she was still there.
She always was.
When they finally emerged from the tunnel, the space opened up again. The noise softened. The lighting dimmed into calmer blues and purples.
Only then did Tsukasa realize they were still holding hands.
Heat rushed to his face. “I—um—sorry!” he said quickly, fingers twitching as if to pull away. “I didn’t mean to just—”
“It’s fine,” Nene said.
Then, after a pause, more quietly: “You can keep holding it.”
His hand stilled. “…Are you sure?”
"I am," she murmured, her face flushed. "I want to."
Tsukasa scratched the back of his head, nervously smiling.
They walked on together, fingers loosely intertwined, their shadows stretching across the floor beneath drifting blue light.
And this time, neither of them felt the urge to let go.
~
The further they moved from the tunnel, the more the aquarium seemed to soften around them.
The noise didn’t disappear all at once—it thinned gradually, voices fading into distant echoes until even those dissolved into the quiet rhythm of circulating water. The air felt cooler here, carrying a faint, clean scent that reminded Nene of rain. Their footsteps sounded muted against the floor, swallowed by the open space.
The lighting shifted as well. The bright blues of the tunnel deepened into darker shades—indigo, violet, soft silver—rippling faintly across the walls as if reflected from an unseen surface. Shadows drifted lazily with the movement of water behind glass.
Tsukasa hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been holding himself together until now. With each step, the tension drained from his shoulders, his breathing evening out. The frantic pulse from earlier dulled into something calmer, steadier.
Their hands were still joined. He was painfully aware of it—not in an anxious way anymore, but in a quiet, grounding one. Her hand fit easily in his, fingers warm, familiar already despite how new it all still was.
He glanced down once, just to make sure. She hadn’t let go.
Nene noticed his glance. She didn’t comment on it. Instead, her thumb brushed lightly against his hand—a small, unconscious movement that made his chest tighten pleasantly.
It felt different now. Earlier, holding hands had felt like something fragile, something she needed to think about. Now it was simply there, like the slow hum of the aquarium around them. Comforting.
They passed a wide tank filled with fish drifting in lazy arcs, their scales flashing softly as they turned. Light shimmered across the glass, scattering across the floor like broken reflections. Neither of them stopped.
For once, Nene didn’t feel the need to examine every exhibit. Being here—walking beside him—felt more important than anything behind the glass.
The hallway stretched ahead, gently curving, and the space grew even quieter. Their steps fell naturally in sync.
Tsukasa broke the silence at last, voice low and thoughtful. “I was worried,” he admitted, staring ahead. “When I couldn’t see you.”
Nene’s grip tightened slightly. “…Me too,” she said. “It got overwhelming really fast.”
He nodded. “I’m glad we’re past it.”
She glanced at him then. His expression was softer than she’d ever seen it—no performance, no brightness forced outward. Just sincerity.
“I am too,” she said.
They walked a little closer after that. Ahead, a pale glow spilled around the corner—brighter than the dim exhibits behind them, yet gentle, pulsing faintly like moonlight beneath water. The light shifted slowly, almost breathing.
Nene slowed without realizing it. “…That’s pretty,” she murmured.
Tsukasa followed her gaze, eyes widening slightly. The glow washed over his face, reflecting in his eyes. “I think,” he said quietly, “that’s the jellyfish exhibit.”
Something settled in the space between them—not anticipation exactly, but a calm sense of arrival. Like they’d been drifting toward this moment all along.
They exchanged a glance, not nervous in the slightest, and hand in hand, they turned toward the light.
~
The hallway narrowed as they followed the glow, the light growing softer with every step. Soon, it opened into a short staircase—just a few gentle steps curving upward. The sound of water grew clearer here, deeper somehow, like a steady heartbeat beneath the floor.
Tsukasa slowed instinctively, walking beside Nene. Every step felt heavier now, not with weight, but with awareness. He wanted to take it all in: the way her hair caught the soft light, the careful way she placed her foot on each step, the quiet hum of her breathing beside him.
She’s really here. And it’s real. Not just a daydream… he thought, chest tightening pleasantly.
At the top, the space opened all at once. Tsukasa’s eyes widened.
Before them stretched a wide, circular chamber, bathed in gentle violet and blue light. Curved glass walls enclosed dozens of jellyfish tanks, each pulsating softly from within. Some glowed pale white, others tinged with pinks and blues, drifting weightlessly through the water.
He swallowed. The sight was beautiful—but the real pull came from beside him.
Nene. She stood quietly, her expression soft in the glow, her posture relaxed. For a moment, Tsukasa felt almost unworthy of this calm, this light, this shared space.
“…Wow,” Nene whispered.
Tsukasa nodded, words failing him. “…Beautiful,” he managed. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed quiet like this until now, how much he wanted to just be here with her, without anything else crowding them.
A bench by the glass caught Nene’s eye. “Do you want to sit?” she asked.
“I was just thinking that,” he admitted, grateful for the suggestion.
They sat side by side, shoulders brushing lightly. Tsukasa could feel the warmth through the thin fabric of her sleeve. He kept his hand lightly around hers, noticing the small pressure of her thumb against his palm. That simple connection anchored him.
He let himself breathe fully for the first time all day. The chaos of crowds, the nervousness before the date, even the small embarrassment from earlier—it all melted away here, replaced by something steady and clear.
'I don’t need to do anything right now,' he realized. 'Just this is enough.'
Nene leaned back slightly, eyes following a pale jellyfish drifting lazily through the tank. Watching them was almost hypnotic. Each one drifted freely, yet none ever seemed lost. She realized her breathing had matched their rhythm without her noticing.
Tsukasa’s gaze followed her instead, noticing the way her eyelashes caught the soft light, the gentle curve of her lips as she exhaled. He wanted to memorize this calm, to hold onto it. “I’m really glad you suggested this,” he said softly, almost afraid to break the quiet.
She blinked, then smiled faintly. “Me too.”
They watched the jellyfish together. Some floated upward, some drifted down, their pulses slow and rhythmic. The light shimmered across the glass, reflecting off their joined hands, tracing faint patterns over the bench.
Tsukasa found himself thinking about how much this moment mattered, how much he wanted to remember the gentle weight of her hand in his, the way her presence made everything feel steadier. He noticed her glance at him once, a subtle acknowledgment that they were sharing more than just the exhibit. And for the first time that day, he didn’t feel the need to hide anything, didn’t feel the rush to perform, to impress, to speak.
He just looked at her. And in return, she looked at him, eyes soft, breathing even, her fingers brushing his thumb in quiet comfort. When she shifted closer, he didn’t move away. He felt his chest swell with something quiet and warm, a feeling that didn’t need words.
“I think,” Nene said after a while, voice barely above a whisper, “this might be my favorite part.”
“Mine too,” he whispered, though it was more than the exhibit—it was the whole day, the whole calm, the whole them.
They stayed like that, watching the jellyfish drift in endless, glowing patterns. Their shoulders touched, hands linked, hearts steady. And Tsukasa let himself sink into the stillness, letting the light, the water, and her presence fill the space inside him.
When they eventually stood to leave, neither of them felt the need to rush. The bench, the jellyfish, the gentle pulse of the room—it all lingered in their minds. Every step back down the stairs, every echo of their hands brushing against each other, carried the memory of calm and quiet togetherness.
For Tsukasa, that memory glowed as clearly as the jellyfish themselves.
~
The glass doors of the aquarium slid open with a soft whoosh, and the sunlight hit them full-on, brighter and warmer than the dim glow of the exhibits inside.
Tsukasa squinted, blinking against the light as he stepped outside. The hum of the city returned—a faint buzz of cars, distant footsteps, and the occasional laughter of other visitors spilling from nearby shops—but it felt distant somehow, like they were still wrapped in the calm they had carried from the jellyfish chamber.
Nene adjusted her bag on her shoulder, glancing at him with a small, quiet smile. “I guess… this is where we go our separate ways.”
Tsukasa nodded, throat tight for a moment, unsure how to answer. “…Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess so. Um… thanks for today.”
She tilted her head slightly, playful yet warm, as if she knew exactly how flustered he was. “I had fun.”
He smiled, a little breathless, eyes darting to her hands, her face, anything that could reassure him she meant it. “Me too,” he said, voice barely above the city’s hum.
For a brief second, the world seemed to shrink again, the sun spilling golden light over them, the distant sounds fading to the background. Then, before he could react, Nene stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him from behind in a gentle hug. Warm, solid, reassuring.
Tsukasa froze for half a heartbeat, stiff with surprise—but a smile spread quickly across his face, nervous and happy all at once. He felt the gentle weight of her arms around him, her cheek brushing against his back.
“I hope,” she murmured, voice soft, almost hesitant, “that we can have more time together… soon.”
Tsukasa felt a rush of warmth bloom from his chest down to his fingertips. His hand, which had been brushing at his sleeve, hovered near hers for a moment before he let it rest gently against her arm. “…I hope so too,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly but full of meaning.
She pulled back just slightly, still close enough that he could feel her presence lingering. Nene glanced up at him, that same quiet, playful warmth in her eyes, and gave a small nod. “See you tomorrow?” she asked, though neither needed to say it out loud.
“Yeah,” Tsukasa replied, heart racing. “See you tomorrow.”
And with one last glance, one last smile, they stepped apart—heading toward their separate paths home—but the warmth of the day, the quiet moments, and the gentle glow of connection stayed with them both, carried softly in memory long after the sun had settled.