Work Text:
Hypothetically speaking—and yes, strictly hypothetically—say that you’re Kamome Academy’s star basketball player, okay? You’ve brought home wins more times than you’ve ever scored over 80% on any math test you’ve ever taken. And, not to brag, you have so many medals and trophies that you could probably open a museum for them.
Hypothetically, say there’s this guy in your year. He’s one of the smartest kids you know, always getting A’s and ranking in the top ten for exam scores. On top of that, he’s insanely good at photography; every time he enters a competition, he always ends up winning the grand prize. The craziest part? He doesn’t make a huge deal out of it. He’s super humble—well,most of the time—and it drives you crazy. And if that wasn’t charming enough, he makes custom mixtapes and has a really niche music taste.
And hypothetically, say you’ve been in love with him since your first year of middle school and now you’re in your second year of high school.
And also, hypothetically, he hated you.
What would you do?
Hypothetically.
Kou knew that for anyone else, the answer was probably really simple—like maybe actually talking to the guy or something. However, to Kou’s dismay, he was not anyone else. He was Minamoto Kou, Kamome Academy’s star basketball player and, unfortunately, the world’s biggest coward.
It’s been five years, so usually, any normal person would have managed to have at least one decent conversation with Mitsuba Sousuke, one of the smartest kids in their year. Any normal person would assume that of Kou, famous for his ability to socialize with practically anyone.
They couldn’t be more wrong.
The problem was that every single time Kou spoke to Sousuke, he either ended up coming off as really rude or ended up saying the exact opposite of what he really meant. “I like your hair?” More like, “Nice hair, girly-face.”
Seriously, who the hell says that? What is he, a Disney channel jock?
Kou wholeheartedly believed that running suicides for ten hours straight would be easier than actually managing to go out with Sousuke. Hell, even killing himself with a deflated basketball would be easier than talking to the guy.
As Kou internally beat himself up, a voice called out to him and snapped him out of his daydream. “Minamoto-kun.”
He blinked rapidly, his brain lagging as he tried to remember where he was. Shaking his head, Kou looked up to identify who the voice belonged to, then gasped louder than necessary. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if he really was met with the face of Sousuke—the boy he was daydreaming about only moments before—looking straight at him. He was probably wondering why Kou’s face just grew as red as his earring, which Sousuke labeled as “lame” when they met for the first time.
Considering Sousuke was the class president while Kou lingered near the lower end of exam ranks, it wasn’t like that was the first time that Sousuke had ever called him by his name to get his attention instead of saying “You there,” or, “Hey.” In fact, it was routine for Sousuke to walk up to Kou’s desk and ask him about a missing handout or assignment that he forgot to turn in. Besides, they used to be friends, too. Kou thought they were, at least.
Kou usually wouldn’t be this flustered, but for some reason, the pink-haired boy looked different today.
Not a bad different—Kou wasn’t sure if there was ever a time where Sousuke looked bad—but a good kind of different. Sousuke’s hair seemed softer and shinier than usual, the light reflecting it in a way that it never had before. Did he change his hair routine? Kou knew that Sousuke was particular about that kind of stuff. Kou found himself staring at the pink-haired boy for longer than he should have.
Upon realizing this, the slouched over athlete instantly straightened up, then leaned back as naturally as possible, as if he wasn’t just entranced by the boy in front of him. He gave Sousuke a slight nod and echoed the pink-haired boy’s name. “Mitsuba.”
Very smooth, Minamoto.
“Your career survey,” Sousuke stated flatly, averting his gaze from Kou as he held his hand out expectantly. Kou frowned at the dullness of the other boy’s tone.
“What about it?” Kou replied, sounding more cheeky than he intended. He internally scolded himself for it immediately, the words replaying in his head like a broken record.
The blond scratched his cheek before opening his mouth to apologize for his tonality, but Sousuke scoffed before he could even get a word out. Kou could feel his heart begin to ache. Why was talking so hard in front of him? The pink-haired boy glared at Kou and placed his other hand on his hip, frustration visibly growing on his face. “You haven’t turned it in. Tsuchigomori-sensei told me to get it from you.”
“He’s always making you do favors for him, huh?” Kou tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re an errand boy.”
“If you know, don’t make it any harder for me.” Sousuke scowled, beckoning Kou to hand him the paper. “Just give me the stupid paper, Minamoto-kun. I have better things to do than talking to you.”
“You’re as cocky as always,” Kou muttered under his breath, hoping that Sousuke hadn’t heard. He’d already messed up once, and if Kou came off as rude one more time, Sousuke would probably lose his temper. Trying to draw out the interaction for at least a little longer, Kou slowly reached for his bag and took his time searching through it to find his career survey. “Have you ever considered being nice to me for once, Sousuke?”
Kou found himself holding back a smile, trying not to make Sousuke feel as if Kou was making fun of him. It’s one thing to sound rude—Kou hated it when he came off as rude, especially towards Sousuke—but teasing was an entirely different matter. Teasing Sousuke came naturally to Kou, he could never get tired of watching the boy’s reactions. His glare, his annoyed huff, the way his composure cracked just a little—Kou found it all insanely cute. Not that he’d admit that out loud.
And while teasing may come naturally to Kou, actually pursuing Sousuke? That was a whole separate matter. Maybe his older brother took all the charm, because Kou had none.
Once Kou finally found his career survey, he looked back up at Sousuke and held it towards the other boy. Rather than taking the paper immediately, Sousuke furrowed his eyebrows. His face heated up and frustration filled his expression, which made Kou’s face turn red in return. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else entirely, blush spread across Kou’s face yet again. His hands began to shake as Sousuke stared him down. Was Kou using his first name that serious to him?
…Why did Kou even use it in the first place?
After a moment of silence, Sousuke snatched the paper from Kou’s hand before swiftly turning around. He stood still for a brief second before turning his head to look at Kou one last time. “We’re not friends, Minamoto-kun. Don’t use my first name.”
And with that, Sousuke was gone, ears still red with fury, leaving Kou sitting there with his hand still outstretched, feeling like he just airballed a free throw shot in front of the entire student body.
Kou banged his head against his desk and groaned, his conversation with Sousuke replaying in his head over and over again, something that seemed to be recurring lately. He could tell that this was going to be one of those memories that came to haunt him in the middle of the night, and the thought of that just made him even more miserable. Why would he do that? What was he thinking? What exactly went through his feeble little mind during that exchange? Was that a weak attempt to flirt? How is it possible to mess up a conversation that badly?
It should be illegal to screw up like that, seriously, the athlete thought to himself.
As Kou was drowning himself in pity, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Minamoto-kun,” a soothing voice—though not as soothing as Sousuke’s—called out, causing him to flinch. He never thought the use of his name would ever give him PTSD. He tilted his head sideways to see who was talking to him this time, only to be met with a familiar, soft smile. It was one of his upperclassmen, Akane Aoi. Looking down at Kou, she frowned, “What are you doing moping around?”
The two of them met through Kou’s older brother, Teru, who had since graduated. At the time, Kou was walking around the empty hallways after practice, waiting for Teru to finish with student council duties when he had stumbled upon Aoi. She was there for a similar reason to Kou, as she was waiting for her childhood friend, Akane, to wrap up with his student council duties. The two of them awkwardly decided to walk around together as they waited.What was initially an uneasy silence between the two of them became small talk, which eventually turned into full-blown conversations. Kou found himself caught off-guard by how teasing Aoi could be while Aoi found herself intrigued by Kou’s lively emotions. It was during that time that Kou had told Aoi—or rather, when she figured out—about his feelings towards Sousuke for the first time. By the time Teru and Akane were finished with what they needed to do, the nervous tension between Kou and Aoi had turned into a friendship. An unusual one, for sure, but a friendship nonetheless.
“...Akane-senpai,” Kou mumbled, a wave of relief washing over him. If it was anyone else, Kou probably would have lost his mind and snapped at them. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone after fumbling Sousuke for the nth time. “It’s nothing.”
Aoi puffed out her cheeks, clearly not believing Kou’s sorry attempt at an excuse. With zero hesitation, she grabbed the chair from the next desk over and sat down beside him. She rested her chins in her hands and stared her underclassman down, silently prodding him to give a better explanation–or at least a better lie. She and Kou maintained eye contact for a solid minute, tension building between them as they both waited for the other to speak first, only for Kou to fold almost instantaneously.
The blond sighed, “It’s about Mitsuba.”
The silence between them was brief, but it was still almost as heavy as the one that had taken place only moments before between Kou and Sousuke.
“Jeez,” Aoi exhaled, letting out a small huff as she rolled her eyes playfully. She gave Kou a soft, knowing smile as she set one arm down, her other hand still propped on her cheek. “You had me thinking it was about something serious!”
“This is serious!” Kou shot back, groaning as he leaned back in his chair, almost as if he were trying to melt and become one with the seat. “I just… I don’t know how to talk to him. It’s so hard for no reason.”
“No reason?” The purple-haired girl raised her eyebrow, still not convinced by Kou’s words.
“Okay, I lied. I do know the reason.” Kou buried his face in his hands, muffling his voice. “I have a fat crush on Sousuke and every time I open my mouth around him, I end up saying stupid stuff and sounding mean as hell.”
“I’m glad you’re aware.” Aoi giggles as she watches Kou melt into a puddle of humiliation.
“It’s just… talking to him is so hard for no reason.” Kou turned to look outside the window, his gaze drifting over the empty courtyard.
“If talking is so difficult, maybe you should try something else!” Aoi suggested, raising a finger as if she had just come up with a brilliant plan.
“Something else?” Intrigued, Kou sat up. At this point, anything would be better than talking directly to Sousuke. “Like what? Writing a song?”
“Well, something a little simpler than that. Something you can actually do.” Rude, Kou thought to himself, though he knew she was only teasing him. Aoi smiled as she reached into Kou’s bag to grab his pencil case. She unzipped the biggest pouch and pulled something out of it. Holding it up, her expression was innocent but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Kou looked at the object, then up at her. Embarrassed, he pulled his hood over his head and tugged the drawstrings in an attempt to hide himself.
If Aoi was about to say what he thinks she’s going to say, Kou would rather write forty-eight cheesy love songs for Sousuke and perform them in front of the whole school than—
When Kou said he’d rather write forty-eight cheesy love songs for Sousuke and perform them in front of the whole school than go along with Aoi’s plan, he was lying.
Because it’s not like he had a better plan, anyway.
It’s been a week since Kou first started leaving sticky notes and treats on Sousuke’s desk in the mornings, each note containing the words that he couldn’t bring himself to say on them.
Aoi proposed that the messages on the sticky notes should remain anonymous. At first, Kou was hesitant about going along with the idea. How would that help him get closer to Sousuke if the other boy didn’t know they were from Kou? He knows that if he were to start getting random sticky notes on his desk with no name, he’d definitely think he was being pranked. Wouldn’t Sousuke think the same?
But Aoi was insistent that if Kou signed his name, the plan wouldn’t work. He figured she knew what she was talking about, so he left the notes unsigned.
Kou’s new daily routine consisted of waking up even earlier than usual in order to head to the convenience store before school. Each morning, he walked up and down the aisles, scanning the shelves for a drink or snack that he thought Sousuke would like. Not that he was a stalker, but Kou had glanced at Sousuke during lunch and ran into him at the vending machines enough to know the boy’s tastes. In a rush, he’d head to school before his classmates on morning duty got there in order to leave a note with a snack or drink on Sousuke’s desk—sometimes even accompanied by a mini cooler filled with ice.
Maybe the cooler is overdoing it, Kou thought to himself.
“I miss you in my life,” Kou recited, his voice barely over a whisper. That was today’s sticky note. He could feel his face redden as he walked into the classroom, a can of peach juice in his other hand. “I feel so corny.”
However, as he set down the items he picked up for Sousuke and turned to walk to his own seat, he was surprised to see a note and a small carton of milk waiting for him. He looked around the room, confused, searching for anyone in the room who may have left it. But the classroom was empty—there wasn’t anyone there aside from him. Kou stared at the unexpected gift for a few moments before picking up the carton of milk. Upon further inspection, Kou realized that it was the milk that used to be in the school vending machines before they got removed because not enough people were buying them. Kou looked everywhere for them after they got taken out, but he couldn’t find them anywhere. How did this person manage to find them? How did they know he liked them? He hasn’t had one since his third year in middle school.
Picking up the sticky note with his other hand, Kou felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over him. It was pink and slightly transparent, and he had a feeling that he had seen them somewhere before. The words on it read, “I need you in my life.”
Kou could feel his face grow red as he read. The message was one thing—need was a strong word, after all—but something about it seemed so familiar. He studied the note more closely, turning it over in his hands, and that’s when he realized.
“...No way,” Kou whispered to himself.
The handwriting. The small, neat cursive, where each letter looped gently into the next and i’s were dotted with adorably tiny hearts. He knew it from anywhere.
It was Sousuke’s.
His heart began to beat and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was happy or if it was because he was seconds away from his heart imploding. What did this even mean? Did Sousuke figure out it was Kou leaving the notes and snacks? Was Sousuke copying him to convey his feelings? Or worse—was Sousuke trying to mess with him? The thought made Kou freeze for a moment, his nerves tangling into a tight knot.
As Kou stared at the note with a million thoughts seemingly rushing through his head all at once, the door to the classroom opened behind him. The sound made him flinch slightly. With the carton of milk and sticky note still in hand, his head creaking as he turned around towards the door to see who had arrived.
Only to be met with the face of Sousuke Mitsuba.
“Good morning,” Kou managed to get out, his voice cracking and betraying him as he tightened his grip on the milk carton and the note. “You’re here early.”
Sousuke looked at Kou, then at the items in his hands before averting his gaze. “Not really. I always get here at this time.”
I know, Kou almost blurts out, the words on the tip of his tongue before he manages to swallow them back down. Instead, he replied with, “Oh, okay.”
Kou watched as Sousuke walked toward his desk and picked up the note that was waiting for him. The blond tried to observe him discreetly, pretending to busy himself with the milk carton while keeping Sousuke in the corner of his eye.
“Looks like we both got something, huh?” Kou stated, trying to start a conversation.
“Yeah,” Sousuke replied, uninterested in maintaining a conversation with Kou.
“Do you like peach juice?”
“Why do you care?”
“Is that a no?”
Kou turned his head to look towards Sousuke, who hadn’t responded yet. Kou’s eyes widened upon seeing Sousuke’s face turn red. “No, I do like it.”
The blond only smiled as he watched Sousuke open the can and drink from it, but it dropped as he watched Sousuke pull his bag out from underneath his seat.
Huh?
If Sousuke’s bag was already in the classroom, that meant that he was definitely there before Kou. Now that he’d thought about it, Kou wasn’t sure that Sousuke’s bag was ever not there when he had placed the gifts down before. He never really paid attention since he assumed Sousuke wouldn’t be getting there until way later. Kou looked up at the clock to check the time.
7:47. It was around the time that Sousuke usually got to school—or around the time that Kou thought that Sousuke typically got to school.
Maybe Sousuke was getting there earlier than Kou had assumed and was doing something else before heading to the classroom. Maybe Sousuke had spotted Kou putting the notes and snacks on his desk, assumed he was making fun of him, and decided to do it back as an act of revenge. Kou’s expression fell, disappointment crossing his face as he tried to make sense of Sousuke’s words and actions, but it just didn’t make sense. Sousuke wouldn’t make fun of Kou by saying something like that. So why?
Kou’s eyes flickered back to Sousuke, searching the pink-haired boy’s face for any sign of what he was thinking. Sousuke looked tense—stressed more than anything—as if the note was burdening.
The blond sighed as he looked down at the note.
“I need you in my life.”
Kou didn’t know what to make of the note. He didn’t know what to make of the milk carton that Sousuke somehow knew that he liked, or the way Sousuke reacted to Kou’s note. What was Sousuke trying to do? Why did he react the way he did to the message? Why did he go out of his way to look for the milk that seemed to be sold nowhere?
But Kou supposed that Sousuke was probably thinking the same thing. It’s not like Kou had given him any reason to think he was being genuine. The blond sighed—he thought the note thing was supposed to make communicating easier, not more complicated.
Or maybe he was just going about it the wrong way.
By the time Kou had decided to stop thinking about it, the milk had grown warm.
“I know I might be crossing a line, but I really want to talk to you normally,” was what Kou’s next note said, short and straight to the point. Aoi never said that the messages had to be about his crush per se, they just had to communicate Kou’s feelings honestly. So, Kou decided that instead of talking about his romantic feelings towards Sousuke, he’d talk about how he doesn’t actually hate the boy to clear up the misunderstanding there. He also decided that, in order to avoid another incident, he’d start leaving the notes and items for Sousuke during lunch, when the other boy went to the vending machine, instead of in the morning.
But Kou guessed that Sousuke’s note-giving had been a one-time thing, because when he arrived at school that morning, his desk was completely bare. No pink sticky note, no carton of milk, not even a glance from Sousuke as Kou walked into the classroom. If he didn’t have the sticky note from the day before on his wall, Kou might have thought that yesterday was a dream.
It’s not like it bothered Kou that much, though. Sure, his heart sank a little at the absence of items in the morning, but it’s not like he thought about it after that. It was just momentary disappointment, is all.
“Minamoto! Get your act together!” His coach yelled, snapping Kou out of his thoughts just as a basketball came flying toward him. Kou barely managed to dodge, his heart pounding as he watched the ball slam against the wall before falling back onto the gym floor and rolling straight towards him.
“My bad, coach!” Kou yelled back, picking up the ball and dribbling it. His hands moved automatically, bouncing the ball as he tried to shove all the other thoughts—Sousuke, the sticky notes, the milk—out of his mind.
He dribbled the basketball between his legs before making his way down the court towards the hoop. He picked up the ball, took a step to the left, then a second step to the right, then pushed off the ground hard, jumping up for a layup and stretching out his arm. But the ball bounced off the backboard and clattered to the floor as Kou found himself headed straight for the wall. Kou pushed himself off and groaned, his frustration mixing with embarrassment as he scrambled to pick the ball back up, his cheeks warming at his failure.
Ball in one hand, Kou shook the other to loosen it up, then switched the ball to his other hand and repeated the same motion. Then he stretched his legs, planting one foot firmly on the floor while pulling the other back, and repeated the motion with the other leg, trying to loosen up his muscles. Kou dribbled the ball a few times, preparing to attempt another layup before hearing his coach yell his name once again.
“Minamoto, you can’t even make a simple layup! Aren’t you supposed to be our best player?” His coach grumbled, obviously frustrated at Kou. “You obviously have something on your mind. When you walk onto the court, your one and only thought should be basketball. Take ten.”
“Yes, coach,” Kou responded quietly. As he walked towards the wall that his bag leaned against, he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face before lowering it again.
So, clearly, he was lying about it being a momentary disappointment.
Could anyone blame him? He was guaranteed to get whiplash from Sousuke’s switch-up. How could he leave a note saying that he needed Kou, only to not leave another one? To not even spare him a glance during class, or even lunch for that matter? But, admittedly, Kou knew that if he wanted to get anywhere in improving his relationship with the other boy, he’d have to actually talk to him. But he also knew that if he tried to approach Sousuke to have a conversation, Sousuke wouldn’t even bother telling him no before walking away.
Sighing, Kou reached for his bag and went to pull out his water bottle, the plastic crinkling as he tightened his grip around it. As he went to pull out the bottle, his fingers brushed against something thin and slightly waxy—a texture he’d come to know all too well. He opened his bag further to see what his fingers had brushed against.
Just as he thought. It was a pink, translucent sticky note, folded neatly into fourths.
Kou tried his best not to let a smile spread across his face, pressing his lips together as he fought the warmth rising in his chest. Sousuke hadn’t stopped leaving notes, he just changed where he was putting them! The blond looked around cautiously-–making sure that none of his teammates were watching him—before holding the note to his heart. Despite trying his best to hold back, a wide, cheesy smile was plastered across his face anyway. After a few moments of quietly cherishing the note, Kou carefully unfolded it, smoothing out the edges with his thumb as his heart began to race all over again.
The athlete could only stare in disbelief as he read the words written on the sticky note, his eyes scanning the message again and again as if they might rearrange themselves at any moment into something else, but the letters remained the same.
“I just wanna be yours.”
Staring absentmindedly at the sticky note, Kou pinched his cheek, only to wince at the sharp pain that followed immediately after. Did he read that right? Was he going crazy? He rubbed his eyes, still struggling to believe that what he’d just seen was real. When he looked back at the note, the message was unchanged.
Kou brought his hands to his chin, losing himself in his thoughts for a few moments. He pinched himself, and the sticky note was still in his hand as transparent as ever, so this wasn’t a dream. He reread the line over and over, even rubbed his eyes in case they were blurry, but nothing about the note changed. The words remained the same, impossible and real. Even the handwriting was neat and loopy, just like Sousuke's.
Holy shit.
Sousuke just said he wants to be Kou’s.
The blond looked around the gym once more, scanning for any sign of the pink-haired boy. He couldn’t take it anymore! It was only two notes, but the messages in each one held such strong words that Kou could feel his chest tighten and his mind span with excitement and disbelief all at once. Even Kou’s notes weren’t this straightforward!
Was it reasonable to assume that Sousuke felt the same way towards Kou? If anyone else were putting sticky notes with practical confessions in Kou’s bag, he’d definitely assume that they were trying to confess to him.
“I need you in my life.”
“I just wanna be yours.”
Are those not obvious confessions?
It was just… Kou couldn’t grasp a single reason as to why Sousuke—the same Sousuke that refused to indulge in casual conversation with Kou—of all people was telling him that.
He didn’t get it at all. But he really, really wanted to.
“Oi, Ishida!” Kou called out to one of his teammates across the gym, cupping his hand around his mouth to project his voice. “Was Mitsuba here earlier?”
“Mitsuba? The pink-haired guy?” Ishida yelled back, dribbling a basketball between his hands. “Uh, I think so. I think I saw him with Shoji, why?”
“Why was he with Shoji?”
“I don’t know, but Mitsuba had his camera with him and they were going through the photos Mitsuba took. I didn’t know the two of them were so close.”
They shouldn’t be, Kou thought to himself. Sousuke? Friends with Shoji, of all people? No offense to Shoji—Kou considered him a good guy, after all—but their personalities don’t seem like they’d blend together well. And yet, hearing about them being friends, Kou couldn’t help feeling a sting of envy he wasn’t ready to admit.
“Where’d they go?” Kou asked, trying his best to keep his jealousy from showing, forcing his voice to stay calm even as his chest tightened.
“They’re outside—” But Kou had already dashed towards the door before Ishida could even finish his sentence. “...Minamoto?”
He’s not sure why he was rushing to get to Sousuke. It’s not like Shoji liked boys—not any that Kou knew of, anyway–but for some reason, Kou couldn’t bear to hear about him simply talking to Sousuke. The thought of it made something twist uncomfortably in Kou’s chest, which seemed to be a common thing as of late. Every step toward the door felt urgent and practically desperate, as if he needed to stake some claim on Sousuke or make sure nothing happened between them. His mind raced with a mix of jealousy, confusion, and something else stronger than a simple crush that he just wasn’t ready to name yet.
He slammed the door open, the sudden force making the frame rattle slightly as he burst into the afternoon sunlight. Turning to his right, Kou found himself staring directly at Sousuke and Shoji. His life seemed to be a cycle of repeated events recently—always coming face-to-face with the pink-haired boy after one of them opened a door or turned a corner. Silence hung in the air as if the world itself had paused to watch the three of them stand there.
Finally, Kou spoke up, his voice breaking the awkward stillness that settled between them like a heavy fog. “Sh– Shoji, coach is looking for you.”
“...Really?” Shoji raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical as he glanced at Kou. Kou nodded in response, though he was sure that Shoji could see the lie hidden in his eyes. “Alright, see you, Mitsuba-kun.”
“Bye,” Sousuke replied casually, waving as Shoji walked his way back into the gym.
Once Kou and Sousuke were left alone, Kou instantly regretted telling Shoji to go back inside. An awkward silence stretched between them, heavy and filled with unspoken words and uneasy glances. Each second seemed to drag on, the quiet so loud that even the faint rustle of a shirt or the shuffle of feet felt amplified. It was the kind of silence that made everyone self-conscious of their own presence, caught between what could be said and what they left unspoken.
The two of them sat there for a few minutes, Kou staring at Sousuke as Sousuke fidgeted with the various buttons on his camera. Kou knows that he should be the one to break the silence and initiate a conversation, but the words felt lodged in his throat, as if his mouth were openly protesting what his brain was telling it to say. Just thinking about what he was going to say stressed him out, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to ease the tension between them. How was he supposed to start? Should he bring up his sticky notes first, or Sousuke’s?
“I didn’t know you and Shoji were friends,” is what he decides on.
“We’re not really,” Sousuke responded. Kou noticed that the pink-haired boy was pressing every button except the one that took him to his photos. “He was just giving me some advice.”
“On what?” Kou asks, trying to steady his voice.
“Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Just stuff.”
Kou frowned, his brows knitting together. “Why are you so closed off with me, Mitsuba?”
Another silence.
“Why are you so confusing, Minamoto-kun?” Mitsuba shot back, quicker than the speed of light.
Huh?
“What are you talking about?” The blond boy questioned.
The pink-haired boy finally lifted his gaze from the camera, letting it rest against his chest as it hung from its strap around his neck. For the first time in what seemed like forever., the two of them were locking eyes and maintaining eye contact. Kou couldn’t help but get distracted by Sousuke’s eyes, even if the other boy was glaring at him.
“I know that it’s you leaving those sticky notes and those bottles of peach juice on my desk,” Sousuke stated. Kou’s heart began to race. Where was this going? “Your handwriting is very distinguishable compared to others.”
“You know what my handwriting looks like?” Kou smiled cheekily.
“Shut up,” Sousuke retorted, his cheeks growing as red as Kou’s. “I… you know that I can’t read your mind, right?”
Kou tilted his head, confused by what Sousuke was trying to say. “Yeah?”
“Then you should start saying what you want to say to my face instead of leaving notes and drinks like a creep.”
“It’s not creepy! It’s an act of kindness.”
“Yeah, well, it’s creepy when that act of kindness is from someone that hates you.”
“I don’t hate you, Mitsuba.”
“I know that now,” Sousuke muttered under his breath. “You wanna be friends again, right?”
“Well,” Kou began. “Yeah, sure, something like that.”
“This is what I mean, Minamoto-kun!” Sousuke groaned as buried his face in his hands, full of frustration. “I’m… you have me second-guessing these things because you won’t just say it outright.”
The athlete hesitated, unsure how to respond, his mind racing as he searched for the right words. Kou knew Sousuke wasn’t wrong, but having his confrontation turned around on him wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he planned the conversation out in his head.
“I don’t know if I’m getting the message in the way that you intended,” Sousuke continued on before Kou could say something back. “You even sent Shoji away and you still can’t say it.”
“Say what, exactly?” Kou managed to get out.
“Come on, Minamoto-kun,” Sousuke whined, leaning his head against the wall. “You’re the one that bothered me all the time in middle school, you’re the one that said that you miss me, you say that you wanna talk to me, but you don’t make an effort to try and talk to me. And whenever you do have the chance to talk to me, it’s like you turn into someone else entirely and you start treating me like shit. What do you want from me exactly?”
“I–!” Kou scoffed as he looked at Mitsuba, who was looking slightly up at him with a mix of frustration and desperation in his eyes. “I really don’t mean to be rude! Honest! I just…”
“You just what?” Sousuke interrupted.
“I just… you know, you’re confusing, too!” Kou deflects.
“I’m the confusing one?”
“You are! You’re the one who said that you need me, you’re the one that said you want me in your life, but you give me the cold shoulder every time I try to start talking to you! And you’re getting mad at me for not trying to talk to you first, even though I literally do. You’re the one that pushes me away every time I try.”
Kou’s voice rose slightly, trembling with a mix of irritation and dejection. His chest felt tight, words tumbling out faster than he could rein them in. “I thought you hated me, Mitsuba. But now you’re giving me notes that are basically confessions and getting mad at me for not talking to you. How am I supposed to know what to do if you keep sending me mixed signals?”
The two of them stood there, frozen for a moment. The tension between them was heavy, and neither knew whether to take a step forward, retreat, or speak again, their heavy, uneven breaths standing out against the silence that had settled around them.
“...I can’t read your mind either, Sousuke,” Kou asserted, letting out a long exhale.
Sousuke only stared back, his expression unreadable, the weight of Kou’s words hanging between them like a fragile thread neither dared to break.
“I like you,” Sousuke blurted out, the confession spilling from his lips before he could second-guess himself. “I’ve liked you since our first year of middle school.”
Kou was speechless. In fact, he froze, the world around him blurring as the weight of those words hit him like a basketball to the chest. His mind scrambled, trying to catch up and his heart began to race, pounding as if it were about to burst out of his chance at any moment, and a strange warmth spread through him that he could name, but chose not to. For a long moment, he could only stare at Sousuke, his mouth slightly open, as if breathing itself required too much effort.
“...Yeah?” was the only thing that Kou managed to muster out.
“...Yeah,” Sousuke repeated back.
The idea felt unreal, almost impossible, yet it wasn’t. Kou scanned Sousuke’s face for any sign that he might be lying, but the fact that Sousuke liked him was undeniable in the soft, honest look in Sousuke’s eyes. Kou’s hands itched to reach out, to hold Sousuke’s face, to confirm that this wasn’t a dream, but his body refused to move.
“What… What about you?” Sousuke asked, his voice trembling slightly. Vulnerability flickered in his eyes as he searched Kou’s face for any sign of answer.
“I…” Kou began, his voice faltering as he struggled to form the words. “I’ve liked you since our first year of middle school, too.”
Reaching out to grab Sousuke’s hand, Kou smiled at the warmth of the contact. His fingers slowly intertwined with Sousuke’s, and a small, nervous smile tugged at the other boy’s lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kou repeated, tightening his hold on Sousuke’s hand. “I think it was something about your smile.”
“Really?” Sousuke hummed. “I don’t really know why I started liking you, to be honest.”
“You can’t name a single thing you like about me?” Kou frowned, his brows furrowing as he leaned slightly closer. “Really, Sousuke?”
Sousuke giggled softly, a faint blush covering his cheeks as he looked away from Kou and down towards the ground, clearly flustered at the use of his first name. “Not a single thing, Kou.”
Kou felt his own face heat up, a warmth rising to his cheeks and ears. He never thought he’d hear Sousuke call him by his first name, and it sounded even better than he ever could have imagined.
He'd have to thank Aoi for her help later.