Archive of Our Own

Okarun's fingers, tapping away at Momo's borrowed laptop, were totally mesmerizing.

He was the sort of freak that typed fast, never needing to look at what his fingers were doing. Sometimes, maddeningly, he'd gaze at Momo, watching her intently while she spoke or stealing glances when he thought she was too busy to notice, still clacking away. He'd even answer her rambling complaints with his typical thoughtful responses, while he was still typing. It was starting to irritate her that she couldn't seem to fully tear his attention away from whatever the hell he was working on.

Okarun hit the Enter key twice, bright punctual clicks, and Momo threw the laptop a dirty look.

Typical Momo behavior. Jealous of a keyboard.

"Done!" Vamola said proudly, raising her English homework high above her head.

Momo growled in disgust, crossing through another mistake on her own paper. It wasn't fair at all that the damn alien had been on Earth all of four months and already understood English better than she did.

"Are you nearly done, too, Ayase-san?" Okarun asked politely, pushing up his glasses to look at her.

"Yeah, I guess," she grumbled. "How 'bout you? Maybe we can take a walk to the konbini in a minute or somethin'…"

"Oh. Um, I've got… a bit more to do," he said nervously.

Momo stretched her arms high above her head with a yawn. "What're you workin' on, anyway? You've been goin' nonstop."

"Nothing important." But his fingers leapt to the touchpad and clicked feverishly; a hot flush swept across his face.

"Important!" chimed in Vamola.

"Lemme see," grinned Momo, waggling her outstretched fingers at him. "What're you blushin' for? Oooh, Okarun, are you doin' somethin' naughty on my laptop, cuz - "

"No!" He slammed the computer shut. Momo's fingers closed on thin air.

Oh? He wanted to play that kind of game?

"Give it here," she threatened, rising up onto her knees, ready to pounce.

"You can't make me!" But the squeaky register of that childish retort said too clearly that he feared otherwise. Okarun inched backwards, tucking the laptop apprehensively behind him.

"It's my computer, numbskull!" Momo lunged forward and knocked him sideways on the pink rug, mint-green nails scrabbling for the laptop. "You ain't even know the password to get back in, you're gonna hafta ask permission - "

"You seriously think I don't know the password?!" he choked out, planting one hand on her forehead to keep her at bay. Momo grabbed his wrist with a frustrated snarl and wrenched it down; she clambered up onto his side for better access to his back.

"'Course you don't, dumbass, I only told ya once! Now -" She gasped in hormonal terror at the sudden press of his free hand, spread wide across her stomach and pushing hard.

"It's literally just KenTakakura1234," Okarun snapped. "It's pretty easy to remember, considering that it's my name -"

"Shut the hell up!" Momo screeched. With a last wild snatch, smashing his hand between them, she seized the laptop and prized it from his grasp with a victorious "HA!"

Vamola applauded as Momo scrambled to her feet, triumphant and out of breath. Irritated, Okarun pushed himself back into a sitting position, scowling up at her as she flipped the laptop open. One-handed, she pecked in the password.

"Uh, lame? It's just the cultural research project," she told Vamola, disappointed. Looking back down at the boy on the rug, she prodded his knee with her toe. "The hell were you tryna hide this for, dork? We got the same one in my class."

Okarun didn't answer; his eyes were fixed determinedly on her knees. One hand came up to hang onto his glasses.

Hm. Okay then. So, there was something suspect about his project that he didn't want her to know about. Momo turned back to the document, frowning in confusion. Writing about something racy? But no, the topic wasn't anything special…

But it was… really long. Fourteen pages. Wasn't each person in the group supposed to put in five pages of research and then combine it all for the presentation? That's what Konou-sensei had told her class, anyway. Okarun was a nerd, but not usually that much of an overachiever.

Comprehension dawning, she scrolled to the first page.

In the top right corner, there were three names she didn't recognize, listed above her best friend's.

All… girls' names.

"No," she said finally.

"No," Vamola repeated.

"Absolutely not."

"Ayase-san - "

"Absolutely fucking not, Okarun!" Livid, she shut the laptop sharply again. "I oughta delete everything after page five."

"Please don't," he mumbled, dropping his head.

"Why the hell're you doin' all this by yourself?"

Okarun fidgeted, fussing with one of the buttons on his coat. "Just easier that way, I guess?"

"Easier?" Momo let out a bark of laughter. "Not easier for you."

"It is, though," he argued from the floor. "This way, the others can just focus on presenting, and I can make sure the information's right, so we all get a decent grade, and then I can… I can still…" He trailed away, wringing his hands together.

"D'you know the girls in his group, Vamola?" Momo demanded, turning to the alien. The blonde girl nodded happily. "They the sort that'd take advantage of a doofus like this'un?"

Vamola's lips parted, apparently working hard to translate the sentence.

"Nice of you to just assume I'm being bullied," Okarun snapped bitterly. Momo spun back to him, flinging one hand out in exasperation. Finally, he was looking up at her.

"Whaddaya want from me, Okarun? Should I not be worried about my - you?" Crap. A spark of panic flared and fizzled in her chest.

He blinked up at her. "You're… worried?"

"No!" barked Momo, bending down to drop the laptop unceremoiously back onto the rug in front of him. "I'm irritated, that's what! You wonder why folks treat ya like a damn doormat after you lay down and let 'em walk all over ya." An awful thought occurred to her and for a split second, she struggled to tamp it down - but it spewed out all the same. "Or are you tryna - tryna get with one o' these skanks? You're dumb as shit thinkin' this'll do the trick." An ugly laugh choked out of her. She wanted to cry.

"Mean," Vamola chastised.

"Yeah… That was," Okarun agreed quietly.

Momo clenched her jaw. What was it about those three names that had turned her into an instant asshole? She should apologize. Okarun wasn't a doormat, and he wasn't stupid, and he definitely wasn't that kind of guy. If he wanted a girl, this wasn't how he'd go after her, and Momo damn well knew it.

"Just bein' honest," she sneered instead. "Can't see why else you'd wanna do all this on your own."

Slowly, Okarun got to his feet, cradling the laptop in the crook of one arm. He stared down at the peeling edge of a UFO sticker on one corner.

"So that's what you think of me, then? You think I'm so desperate, I'll just do whatever any girl tells me."

No.

"'Course you are, dummy! You sure as hell do whatever I tell you to," Momo spat, with forced bravado. Then, digging her grave deeper still, "You're a total pushover."

His dark eyes rose to meet hers, unflinching.

"I'm not like that with everyone, Ayase-san," he said.

Her hand rose, unbidden, to point at the laptop. "Apparently, you are."

Okarun blinked at her, then furrowed his brow, studying her intently. Nervous, Momo shifted her weight.

"Are you… jealous?" he asked finally, a note of disbelief in his voice.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach.

"No!" Shit. "No fucking way!" Stop talking! "Why the hell would I ever be jealous over you?"

Too far. Way too far.

Momo paled, instantly sick with regret. She could already see the hurt blooming in his beautiful eyes. But he nodded, once, twice, and turned away to pick up his bag.

"Is it okay if I borrow your laptop? I'll bring it back tomorrow."

She snorted derisively in spite of the fear slicing at her insides. "Yeah, whatever, finish up so you can make all your little girlfriends happy."

Okarun paused, already halfway out the open door. He didn't turn back to face her.

"I think," he said, carefully, "I think you should know by now that I'm not out to… impress anybody else, Ayase-san."

Momo stared at the back of his head, heart thudding hard.

What the hell did that mean? Anybody else?

Why was he so calm? Why was she such a dick?

She needed to say something - she needed to apologize -

"Have a good evening, Vamola-san."

And then he was gone.

When finally she regained control of her legs, Momo staggered over to the door and out onto the landing. His shoes had already vanished from the foot of the stairs.

Hadn't even stopped in to say bye to the grannies, then. Her chest tightened.

She might've actually hurt him this time.

"Momo?" called Vamola. With a sigh, Momo retreated back into her room; she dropped down where Okarun had been sitting and folded in on herself in defeat.

The alien girl disengaged from the beanbag chair and scooted over to join Momo on the rug, peering at her with evident concern.

"Why mean, Momo?" she asked.

"Cuz," Momo grumbled into her crossed arms. "I'm the world's biggest moron."

"Why?"

She exhaled loudly. It was hard to maintain dumb defensive anger in front of someone as sweet and genuine as Vamola.

"I'm always findin' stupid shit to fight with him about," she sighed. "Like, that wasn't somethin' to get so mad over. I mean, like, I am worried, and I hate that he's doin' all that on his own, but…" She ran a hand through her hair, lost for words. "I guess I shoulda… told him why in a more normal way. Instead of gettin' all…" She trailed off; the word jealous still burned bitter in her mind.

Vamola nodded sagely. Momo sighed again, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Oh. He'd left some of his books.

Lip twitching, she gathered them into a neat pile, brushing her thumb along the spines. She'd give them to him first thing in the morning, once he'd had a chance to stop hating her. Maybe she could hide a few of those alien stickers she'd bought in his notes… it might brighten his day when he saw them. A silly, silent apology.

"Jealous?" Vamola asked.

"Hah?" Momo's attention snapped back onto Vamola. "D'you know that word?"

The Sumerian girl nodded again and Momo blushed a violent shade of crimson.

"I - I'm totally not!" she squeaked. "What's there to be jealous about? The groups were random in your class too, right?"

"Random groups," Vamola agreed, but a knowing smirk was tugging at the corner of her mouth now. "No jealous, Momo. Don't do jealous."

"Easy enough to say," Momo mumbled. "You don't understand how much weird ass game he has. Dude can say half a nice thing and bitches drop their friggin' panties, so..."

"Momo loves Takakura?" Vamola asked seriously.

The question seemed to echo in the silent room. It took a while for Momo to properly process it.

"What?!" she squealed. "No, no way, why would you - what the hell, Vamola!"

"Momo jealous," Vamola pointed out, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "Momo jealous… because… Takakura - hm." Her forehead wrinkled in concentration and she brought a single finger to her lip, apparently pondering how to say whatever it was she was thinking. After a long moment, Momo waiting with bated breath, Vamola tilted her head. "Momo, Takakura is cute?"

"Hah? Wh-why d'you ask?" she stammered.

"Momoooo!" Vamola complained, leaning forward. "Takakura! Takakura cute? Yes, no?"

"I mean - 'course he's cute," Momo admitted grudgingly, blood thundering in her ears. Vamola cocked an eyebrow, too knowing for someone with such limited language skills. "Okay, yes, Okarun's super cute, whaddaya want from me, dude?"

Vamola smiled sweetly. "Mooore?"

More?!

"There ain't anything more," she said irritably.

Vamola waggled a finger at her disapprovingly. "Why jealous if only cute?"

"Cuz!" Mortified, she buried her face in her hands. "It's… I guess that ain't all."

The alien sat forward expectantly.

"Okarun's… special t'me," she mumbled into her palms. "He's… he's my… my favorite person. He's smart, and funny, and… He don't mind me bein'… me."

She swallowed, lowering her hands cautiously. It felt shockingly… good, saying those things out loud. There was a surge of relief from venting even these most basic feelings - she was suddenly hyperaware of a nigh-painful pressure in her chest that she'd been carrying for months. How had she managed to ignore it for so long?

"He makes me feel… safe. And… I guess he's… kind. Puttin' everyone first. I think he's a little dumb about it, forreal." But a smile slipped onto her face, heat blooming in her cheeks. "Like with the project, gettin' stuck doin' everybody else's work. But I mean… I guess I do like that about him. He always assumes the best in people, even when they straight up suck. I guess I just get pissed when he's doin' it for people that don't appreciate it. Like, he works way too hard already, he don't need to go takin' on more. And - sorry, Vamola, am I talkin' too much?"

Vamola flapped a hand, leaning forward on her elbows with evident relish. "More?"

Momo giggled nervously.

"I guess… There's also… It's cute how he insists on bein' all formal even though we're so close. But I really, really wanna hear him say 'Momo' too. Yokai him don't count, y'know?"

Now that she'd started, she couldn't stop. The emotions flooded out, nonsensical, borderline insane, in a torrent of words Vamola probably didn't even understand. It was so cathartic to finally admit it all; she’d never truly realized how stressful it had been to hold that adoration at arm's length, refusing to properly acknowledge it.

"I can't wait to see him every day. He's always there no matter what. Like, sure, we had this stupid ass fight tonight, but I know he'll be waitin' by the corner store in the morning like he always is. And he don't mind listenin' to me blabbin about whatever, no matter how stupid it is. Vamola, d'you know, like, he always picks me up after work?" She glowed with delight from the sound of her own words. "And - and he always kinda just - puts his hand out loose like - like he wants me to hold it? So I do. And every time, he holds my hand alla the way home, even if he ain't comin' in. I wish he'd say somethin' about it," she added fervently, sliding a hand up over her eyes. "It's like there's this agreement we're just not gonna talk about it. I'm… I'm honestly so scared to bring it up, cuz what if he's just been… bein' polite all this time?"

A terrified laugh burst out of her. "Vamola, you're so friggin' right, I love him. God, I've never said it out loud before!" She cackled, clapping both hands over her mouth. "I love that stupid nerd so damn much! I - I wanna marry him, I wanna be Momo Takakura, and have like, ten kids, dude, cuz he'd be the best dad in the universe." With a squeal, she kicked her ankles out at Vamola in retribution. Vamola giggled with her. "Gaaaahd, I sound crazy as hell, don't I?"

Momo collapsed backwards onto the rug, breathless from the force of her confessions, then scanned Vamola curiously. The alien was beaming, pink antennae twitching with joy. "Why're you so excited?"

"Momo excited!" she answered brightly. "And - secret."

"That's right," Momo agreed. She propped herself back up on her elbows and pointed seriously at the Sumerian girl. "This is all very secret. You know that word all the way, then?"

"Yes, no." Bafflingly, Vamola added a shrug. "Yes, no." Momo squinted at the alien.

"Aaaand what's that mean?"

Vamola let out a huff of frustration.

"Yes secret, no Momo secret," she said emphatically.

Momo frowned, nonplussed. Vamola dropped her head back and groaned at the ceiling. After a moment, she leaned forward, grasping Momo's shoulders firmly with both hands.

"Ta-ka-ku-ra," she said slowly, like she was explaining something very simple to a toddler, "Takakura secret also."

The old house creaked in the tense silence following those words, settling in the cold autumn night.

"Okarun has a secret?" Momo asked, trying to ignore a frantic flicker of hope. Vamola sat back, tucking her hands in her lap again, and nodded quickly, antennae bobbing. Slowly, Momo pushed herself back into a sitting position too. She twirled a strand of hair contemplatively, gnawing on her lip. Hesitant, she asked, "Um… What's the secret, Vamola…?"

Then she slapped both hands to her cheeks in punishment. "No! Wait, don't tell me. It's a secret!"

Vamola rolled her eyes. She must have learned that from Aira. "Same secret."

Uncomprehending, Momo stared back.

Surely Vamola just… didn't understand what she was saying.

She definitely didn't. Couldn't mean what Momo thought she did - not a chance.

There was the whole handholding thing. And how he looked at her. And how maybe sometimes he said - or did - things that were really, ridiculously sweet. And yeah, he did seem to spend every spare second he had with her.

Okay. There was a super slim nonzero chance that maybe he did feel the same way.

But it was also possible that he was just a good guy. That seemed way less outlandish. They were best friends - she trusted that much - so he probably just liked being around her in a platonic way. He probably just looked at her to see what she was doing, that was all. And the shopping district did start to get creepy after dark - he would probably walk any of his other female friends home, too, if they had jobs like hers.

He'd probably hold their hands just as easily, if his lousy track record with Aira's flirting was any indication.

"It ain't the same secret," Momo said hopelessly, totally certain now. She threaded her fingers into the hot pink fibers of her rug, blinking fast to ward off nonsensical tears. "I don't think you get it, Vamola. He's - he's not into me." Her voice broke. "There's no way he - "

Vamola's hands sprang into her field of vision, seizing Momo by the wrist. "Same secret!" she insisted earnestly. "Takakura loves Momo!"

THUD!

Both of their heads whipped around; they stared out at the hallway.

"Gran? That you?" Momo called, mortified at the idea of her grandmother overhearing that. Or - heaven forbid if it was Turbo Granny - that old bitch would never let her live it down. Her heart was still racing with the possibility of Vamola's words.

A floorboard creaked.

A high-pitched gasp answered her question.

The sound flooded her with freezing horror.

Momo sat stock-still, paralyzed. The bedroom door was still flung wide, the golden light of her bedroom pooling innocently in the hall.

They'd have heard him come back, right? The slide of the front door, the pathetic groaning of those old stairs…

In a daze, Momo pushed herself up to her feet. She crossed the room. Braced herself with one hand against the doorframe.

Leaned forward to look.

Okarun. Cowering in the shadows, sweating and flushed and trembling, staring right back at her. It looked like he'd dropped her laptop; he was still half-crouched, caught in the act of reaching for it.

Nope.

Totally not possible.

Okarun wouldn't loiter around eavesdropping on her, no way, no way, no waaay -

But the little fucker was.

Maybe it was okay, though? Maybe he'd just heard Vamola's last words - he was just freaked out that the alien would tell such a ludicrous lie - it was totally possible he hadn't heard her maniacal ramblings about how much she loved him.

Momo tried - and failed - to breathe.

No. It was entirely too much to hope he hadn't heard. He must have. No way he hadn't, not with an expression like that. He had the pathetically guilty look of a dog caught ruining the furniture.

"How long?" she choked out, curling her hands into quivering fists.

Okarun shrank, anxiously adjusting his glasses with both hands.

"I - I just - I forgot my - my textbook - and I - "

"Okarun - "

"Your - I think the laptop should be okay, it wasn't a long fall, I kinda stopped it, so - "

"How. Long."

"Not long," he squeaked. Sensing her heightening fury, he reached higher, hands digging anxiously at his scalp. "Um - uh - the uh…"

He took a tremulous breath.

"The part about - me… being… super cute, I guess?"

Judgement day had come.

All seven angels had just blown their trumpets.

Pestilence.

War.

Famine.

Death.

"Vamola."

That voice sounded strange, foreign and distant. Was it really hers? "Vamola, can you give me a minute with this snooping sack of shit?"

This must be how Erosuke operates the nanoskin, Momo thought, watching fingers she only vaguely recognized as her own clawing into the chest of Okarun's uniform. An out-of-body experience driven by pure instinct. The disembodied hand hauled the sneaking bastard forcefully back into the bedroom.

Momo didn't notice Vamola leave. If the alien had made any comment, it hadn't registered.

She didn't quite recall when Okarun had prostrated himself before her, either, forehead smashed into her rug, or how she'd come to sit in the desk chair above him. Her arms and legs were crossed tight, the stream of high-pitched apologies issuing from his mouth falling on deaf ears.

A hollow pit was forming, steadily carving out space between her lungs with each expression of his regret.

Sure, he shouldn't have just stood out there listening. Yeah, she was pissed at him for that breach of privacy.

But this was all he had to say about it? Apologies for dropping the laptop? Endless "I'm sorries," begging her to forgive him for not announcing his presence?

If he loved her - just liked her, even - then… shouldn't he be excited, having overheard everything she'd said?

There wasn't any validation coming out of his stuttering mouth. No reassurance that her confession was reciprocated, or even that he just found it flattering. No acknowledgement of it whatsoever. She'd almost have preferred for him to reject her outright.

This awful indifference hurt way more than she would've expected.

"Okarun." Momo cut decisively across his whining, colder than she'd meant to sound. He went perfectly still at the sound of his name, listening hard."I'll forgive you, if you forget everything you heard."

Her aching heart couldn't take one more apology. Better to pretend none of this had ever happened - to just go back to hoarding her feelings, keeping them silent and secret, where they couldn't hurt either of them.

On either side of his head, Okarun's hands curled slowly into fists.

"Is that the only way?"

Grimly, Momo nodded. Then, remembering he couldn't see her, she said, "Yeah."

His knuckles had gone white.

Without lifting his head from the rug, he mumbled, "Don't forgive me, then."

Her breath caught at the words. But she blinked fast, forced herself to stay calm, and sat forward on the edge of her seat, uncrossing her legs.

"Explain," Momo commanded. Then, as an afterthought, "Sit up."

The boy scrambled to obey, shifting into seiza in an instant. His wide eyes met hers, scanned them frantically, then dropped to the ground.

"Explain," Momo reminded him after a moment, tapping a finger against her elbow.

Okarun's fists ground against his thighs.

"I'm… really happy," he whispered.

Happy?

In the wake of his own words, a delirious smile illuminated his face. There was a dusky pink in his cheeks that quickened Momo's pulse. He gave his head a little shake, like he could scarcely believe what he was saying. "Nothing's ever made me so happy, Ayase-san. I don't - I don't want to forget a single thing."

Perhaps her ears hadn't properly recalibrated after the shock of finding him outside the door.

Her mouth had gone so dry. "W-why?" Momo forced out. Okarun blinked, then glanced back up at her for clarification, smile slipping. Licking her lips nervously, she barreled ahead. "Why are you… happy?"

Okarun tilted his head, like the question confused him. After studying her for a moment, his eyes softened.

Without answering, he scooted forward. His knees settled against her bare feet and steady fingers slipped around her ankle, as affectionately as if it had been her hand; the touch made her gasp with surprise.

"Is this okay?" he asked, even as his thumb traced a circle across her skin.

"I - um. Sure?" Her throat contracted painfully with the word, like it was lined with sandpaper.

"You're cute too," Okarun said.

What?

WHAT?

With another mumbled apology, Okarun pressed his forehead to her shin. His glasses' lenses were cold between them.

The bizarre intimacy of it stunned her.

He thought… she was… cute.

"Super cute," Okarun corrected himself. She could feel his lips moving against her skin, curling up in a wry smile. The sensation sent a shiver through her. "You're a hypocrite, Ayase-san, did you know?"

"What… whaddaya mean?"

Okarun shifted closer; she watched his head angle to the left, dark curls brushing against her knees. There was an almost imperceptible pressure on the side of her calf that sent a shock of numbing static through her mind.

Did he just kiss my goddamn leg?

"When I do something dumb for someone else - when I take on too much…" A laugh ghosted across her skin and left goosebumps in its wake. "I'm just copying you, you know? I admire you so much. But I guess I get why that worries you… it - it worries me too, watching you try to handle things all alone."

"And I can't wait to see you in the morning, either. It's - it's what gets me out of bed, knowing you'll call my name soon… and you're right. I would've been there tomorrow, no matter what, and - and every day after that."

He paused. His hand was trembling around her ankle. Or was it her own leg that was shaking?

"I like listening to you, a lot. You're fascinating, Ayase-san. And you're always so funny." He chuckled. "I've learned so many cuss words from you."

"And…"

His hand slipped higher and his head sank lower; he cradled her leg to his chest now, hugging it close.

"I'm so glad you noticed," he murmured. "About me - wanting to hold your hand. I was too much of a coward to just do it. It's meant so much to me, that you like me enough for that. I'm… sorry, though, that you were scared to try talking to me about it." His grip tightened. "You can talk to me about… about anything, Ayase-san, I promise. I really… I want to be the person you trust with everything."

Momo wanted that, too. Hell, she already felt that way for the most part.

She wanted to reach down and tug him off her leg, pull him up to hold the rest of her instead. She wanted to confess again, to his actual pretty face, this time, instead of to their alien friend. She wanted to apologize and kiss him and apologize some more.

Instead, stupidly, accusatorily, she whispered, "Why'd you tell Vamola?"

His other hand landed on her knee, featherlight in supplication. "She didn't understand at first when I tried to reject her. I got desperate, I guess, so I - I told her I had… have… um, feelings for you. I'm sorry you weren't the first person I told."

"I told her first, too," she reminded him in a hushed voice. He chuckled again, shifting to peek up at her with one eye. That look made her heart skip a beat.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Thanks, Vamola," they said in unison, and their perfectly matched sarcasm made them laugh together, too, awkward and anxious.

Silence followed, thick with unspoken want. The hand around her ankle flexed gently, his thumb following the ridge of her bone up and down, up and down.

"Muh… Mo…"

Momo uncrossed her arms, sitting forward in her seat. What was that?

Without really thinking about it, she slipped her hand into the one resting on her knee, lacing their fingers together.

"M-momo… Takakura," Okarun murmured reverently. He peeled away from her leg, fully looking at her at last. Sheer bliss was magnified in those gorgeous eyes and that gentle smile, those blushing cheeks. "You mean it? You want that?"

Her heart might explode.

Yeah, she wanted that, more than anything. Of course she did. How could she not, after everything they'd been through together? There was nobody she could trust the way she trusted him - nobody who could make her feel so safe - nobody else who accepted her so completely.

But subconsciously, her hand flinched in his. They were only seventeen, so…

"It's not a proposal," Okarun said, as though he knew her every thought.

Slowly, he pulled their clasped hands to his mouth.

Staring up into her eyes, he pressed his lips to her knuckle.

Oh my god.

He brought their hands back to her knee, smoothing his thumb over the burning imprint of his kiss. "Just… knowing the thought's crossed your mind is enough. Way, way more than enough."

"'S more than crossed my mind," Momo grumbled, tearing her eyes away from his. Okarun laughed, jubilant.

"Sounded like it. Ten kids, huh?"

"Shut uuuup," she whined, brushing her bangs back with her free hand. "Maybe - maybe not that many." She stole a quick glance back at his face, relieved to see it was every bit as red as her own. "God. You must think I'm friggin' crazy."

"I don't," he said at once. He gave her hand a squeeze. "I think you're perfect. I'm - " He laughed with evident delight. "I'm definitely into you, Aya… M-Momo."

Holy shit.

He was absolutely radiant. The most beautiful person alive.

Abruptly, Okarun pushed himself to his feet, still holding fast to her hand. His smile was tempered with an intense, determined focus; he loomed over her, leaning so close that she had no choice but to look straight into those lovely, kind eyes.

"If it bothers you so much, I'll tell my group I can't do the report after all," he promised. "The main reason I wanted to do it myself was so I could still come over, instead of having to go to the library or something with them."

Momo blinked at him, baffled. The topic shift was so sudden - her mind raced to comprehend what he'd said. Even once she'd caught up, it sounded ridiculous.

That was why he'd offered to do the stupid report alone? So that he could… spend more time with her?

Momo burst into a fit of giggles.

It was all so absurd. Telling her all these incredible, unbelievable things - the words Momo Takakura in his mouth - and he still found time to circle back, to fix the dumb argument that had, somehow, led to them baring their souls.

She sobered up at last when he brushed her bangs back, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture made her heart do somersaults.

"Good," she said breathlessly, grinning sheepishly at the realization he'd never once stopped watching during her little outburst. "You - you can have all the time ya want with me once you're finished." Her hand tightened on his. "I'm, uh… sorry I was such a fuckin' butt about the whole thing."

"It's okay." He smiled, so sweetly. "I heard it all, remember? Besides, I… kind of figured you were just being -"

"Stupid?" She sniffed.

"Overprotective," he corrected. "Never stupid."

He bracketed her jaw with gentle fingers then, guiding her up with the utmost care. When they were so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin in the space between them, his dark lashes fluttered shut with that irresistible shyness she adored.

"Okarun," Momo muttered. "Okarun, I... uh…"

Everything had spilled out so easily to Vamola. So why, an inch away from kissing her perfect boy, why did her throat choose now to slam shut? She tried again. "I - I, um - I…"

Okarun's lips parted - they were so close, she swore she could feel the tiny disturbance in the air. His eyes opened again, impossibly deep and warm, and full of perfect understanding.

"Don't worry," Okarun said softly, watching her struggle to form the words. "You don't need to say anything."

"I do," she mumbled, stubborn. "You deserve it."

Behind the glasses, his eyes widened. Funny how, even now, that phrase seemed to throw him. "Okay," he said, after a long pause. "Okay… I mean… I guess I… I do want to hear you say it to my - to me. If you can. But don't -"

Momo silenced his words with a quick shake of her head, focusing on the sensation of his hand against her cheek.

It was just her Okarun. Her Ken Takakura. She'd battled monsters and aliens and ghosts, but was this really what scared her? This kind, reliable boy? He was waiting so patiently, even though he was flushed with anticipation over the idea of a direct confession. Even if she failed - even if the words wouldn't come - he wouldn't be angry with her.

There wasn't actually anything scary about confessing to him at all. Not when his eyes were so full of longing.

Momo took a shuddering breath.

"I love you, Okarun."

He inhaled sharply, stunned.

At first, Okarun simply stared back at her, lips parted in surprise. Maybe he hadn't expected that she would really say it. Or perhaps, in spite of overhearing what she'd said earlier, he still found it hard to believe.

That made perfect sense to Momo. She was having trouble processing the entire situation, too. Okarun's confession was already fuzzy in her mind, a whirlwind of color and feeling, like an incredible dream she'd woken up from far too quickly.

But as the words sank in, Okarun's fingers slid higher, curling into her hair. Wordlessly, Momo disentangled her hand from his, then reached up to slip his glasses off. Something about the action made his breath hitch.

An instant later, he pressed his forehead to her own. Nothing left to keep them apart now.

Okarun's eyes were huge and vulnerable, devastatingly sincere in their admiration. His eyelashes tangled with hers. Momo watched, mesmerized, as a single tear swelled at the corner of the right one. It beaded and slipped, trailing away out of her limited range of vision. She felt Okarun's mouth arch into another precious smile, so close now that his lips brushed against the corner of her own. Together, they closed their eyes.

In a whisper, he told her his secret, too.