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Akito had walked to school, just like every other day. He was halfway through the school gates when he spotted him.
Toya stood a little off to the side, near the brick pillar by the entrance, hand gripping his bag. He wasn’t doing anything in particular—just standing there, posture straight, gaze scanning the crowd filtering in. Morning light caught in his dark hair, softening the edges of his silhouette.
Akito slowed without meaning to.
Before he could overthink it, Toya’s eyes found him. And he smiled.
It wasn’t that big. Just a small lift at the corners of his mouth, subtle enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice.
But Akito did. Toya’s expressions were rare, controlled, like precious things rationed carefully.
Akito felt warmth bloom in his chest.
Toya stepped away from the pillar and walked toward him, shoes clicking lightly against the pavement. “Good morning,” he said, voice calm as always.
“…Mornin',” Akito replied, shoving his hands into his own pockets to hide the sudden awkward energy buzzing through him.
Up close, something about Toya’s face made him pause. His gaze lingered just a second longer than usual. For some reason, Toya’s cheek looked different. Akito couldn’t put his finger on it. He almost thought there should be some kind of mark there—a bruise, maybe—but that didn’t make any sense. Toya hadn’t mentioned anything happening, and it wasn’t like he’d gotten into a fight.
It was probably just the lighting.
Akito huffed to himself and dropped the thought. He had way more important things to focus on.
Like how unfair it was that Toya looked this good in the morning.
They fell into step together easily, walking through the school grounds side by side. The air still held a bit of early spring chill, and students milled around them in clusters of laughter and chatter. Toya kept his pace steady, matching Akito’s without looking like he was trying to.
“You’re early,” Akito said after a moment.
“So are you,” Toya replied.
“Yeah, but that’s normal.”
Toya glanced at him. “Is it?”
Akito shot him a look. “Shut up.”
Toya’s lips curved again, just slightly.
Akito’s heart did something very stupid.
He’d always liked Toya. The best way to explain how he even met Toya was falling in love at first sight like one of those stupid high school girls in animes. And then after becoming partners and forming BAD DOGS, they became basically inseparable. There was just something about Toya.
Akito had quickly realized he liked him more than any of his other friends. Though, that realization had crept up on him slowly, then all at once, like a tumble down several flights of stairs. He was wondering how he could confess—
They reached the building entrance, and the noise level rose as they stepped inside. Shoes squeaked against polished floors. Lockers slammed. Someone shouted across the hallway.
“My class is this way,” Toya said.
“Yeah, I know,” Akito replied, rolling his eyes lightly.
They stopped at the fork in the hallway. For a second, neither of them moved.
“I’ll see you at break,” Toya said.
Akito blinked. “You’re coming over?”
“Yes.”
The simple certainty in his voice made Akito’s stomach flip.
“…Yeah, okay,” he said, trying to sound normal. “I’ll be there.”
Toya nodded once, then turned and walked toward his classroom.
Akito stood there a second longer than necessary, watching him go.
He really was hopeless.
Classes dragged. Or maybe it just felt that way because Akito kept checking the clock every few minutes. He tapped his pen against his desk, leg bouncing under the table. His teacher’s voice blurred into background noise.
He wondered if Toya was thinking about break too.
The thought made him grin to himself.
When the bell finally rang, he was out of his seat almost instantly. He stretched his arms over his head and made his way toward the door weaving through classmates who were already spilling into the hallway.
And there he was.
Toya stood just outside the door, hands clasped loosely in front of him this time. He wasn’t leaning against the wall or checking his phone. He was just… waiting.
For him.
Akito felt heat rise to his face and quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t noticed how ridiculously soft that was.
“Dude, you’re blocking the way,” Akito said as he approached.
Toya glanced at him. “Am I?”
“Yeah. Move.”
Toya stepped aside obediently, falling into step beside him as they headed down the hall.
They didn’t say much. They didn’t need to.
The staircase leading up to the rooftop was mostly unused during breaks. Most students preferred the courtyard or the cafeteria. The stairwell was quiet, the air a little cooler, sunlight filtering in faintly through the small window on the landing.
They settled down halfway up the stairs, shoulders brushing.
Akito pulled out his phone and untangled his wired earphones, handing one side to Toya. Their fingers brushed briefly in the exchange. Toya’s hand was... warm.
“What are we listening to?” Toya asked.
“You’ll see.”
Akito scrolled through his playlist before selecting a song. He pressed play, and the opening notes of 'Fragile' filled their ears—their song.
They leaned back against the wall, close enough that their arms stayed in contact.
It was nice.
Really, really nice.
Akito glanced sideways at Toya.
He wasn’t outwardly expressive, especially back then. His face remained mostly neutral, eyes focused ahead as he listened. But Akito knew him well enough to be able to read him, catch the subtle shifts—the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, the way his breathing evened out, the faintest hum under his breath when a melody caught his attention.
He liked this.
Akito’s chest felt warm again.
He wondered what it would be like someday, to sit like this without pretending it was just casual. To rest his head on Toya’s shoulder and not overthink it with a 'no homo'. To reach out and lace their fingers together without worrying about what it meant.
Maybe someday he could tell him.
Maybe someday he’d have the guts.
He imagined it for a second—Toya’s expression if he confessed. Would he look surprised? Would he go quiet? Would he smile like he did this morning?
Would Toya like him back?
Akito’s heart thudded harder.
He tore his gaze away before Toya could catch him staring. Which obviously, was far too late.
“You’re staring,” Toya said calmly.
Akito coughed into his hand. “I'm not.”
“You are.”
“I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“Tch, none of your business.”
Toya hummed in response, accepting that answer. He didn’t push. And that just made Akito's flush deepen. Akito felt Toya’s shoulder press a little more firmly against his own. He had always felt steady when Toya was near.
He wondered if Toya knew how important he was to him.
Probably not.
Toya tilted his head slightly, eyes closing for a moment. Sunlight from the small window caught his profile, highlighting the curve of his cheek. Akito’s breath hitched for just a second.
He really, really liked him.
More than he’d ever liked anyone.
Maybe someday he’d be brave enough to say it.
For now... this was enough.
Sitting on a quiet staircase, sharing cheap wired earphones, shoulders pressed together while the rest of the school buzzed unaware around them.
The final bell hadn’t even finished ringing before Akito was already out of his seat.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped into the hallway, pretending he wasn’t scanning every face that passed by. Pretending he wasn’t looking for a very specific head of split-colored hair.
He didn’t have to look long.
Toya was already there.
Standing by the shoe lockers near the stairwell, posture straight as ever, like he’d been waiting for exactly this moment. When his eyes met Akito’s, something softened in them—relief, maybe.
Akito felt his lips tug upward before he could stop it.
“Toya! Took you long enough, partner,” he said, walking over.
Toya blinked at him. “Akito, class ended barely a minute ago,” he deadpanned.
“Tch, whatever.”
They fell into step together, heading toward the entrance.
After a few seconds of silence, Toya spoke again. “Akito.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you mind if we… hang out today? Instead of practice.”
Akito blinked.
“Instead of practice?” he repeated, eyebrows lifting. “We’ve got new competition now, you know. We should be training harder.”
“...I know,” Toya said.
There was something tentative in his voice.
Akito scoffed lightly, crossing his arms. “You’ve always been so serious about improvement.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re skipping?”
“I’m asking,” Toya corrected.
Akito felt heat creep up his neck.
He wanted to practice. He did. The thought of falling behind, of not being good enough—it always gnawed at him. But Toya was looking at him like that.
“…Fine,” Akito muttered, looking away. “We can skip this time.”
Toya’s expression brightened immediately.
Again, it wasn’t dramatic, but it was unmistakable. His shoulders relaxed, and that small, rare smile returned with the crease of his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said.
Akito rolled his eyes to hide the way his heart flipped. “Don’t thank me. You’re the one who suggested it.”
They didn’t need to discuss where they were going.
The arcade was practically a given.
The moment the familiar jingle of the doors opening chimed overhead, Toya’s entire demeanor shifted. The steady, composed expression he wore at school melted into something far more whimsy.
His eyes lit up.
The bright lights reflected in them as he stepped inside, taking in the rows of machines, the electronic music, the layered sounds of victory jingles and button mashing.
He looked… happy. Genuinely.
And Akito couldn’t help staring.
Toya walked straight to the coin exchange machine, pulling out a few hundred yen and feeding it in. Coins clinked loudly into the tray, and he gathered them carefully, already scanning the rows of claw machines like he was strategizing a battle.
Akito snorted softly and opened his wallet.
He dug around for spare change and stepped forward, holding out a few extra coins.
Toya blinked at him. “Akito?”
“Take ‘em,” Akito said, faux casually. “You’ll need more than that.”
For a split second, Toya just looked at the coins.
Then he looked at Akito.
And his face lit up in a way that made Akito’s chest ache.
“Thank you, Akito,” Toya said, voice softer this time.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Toya took the coins, and immediately his attention shifted back to the machines.
“Akito,” he said, already moving down the row, “they have a new one!”
“Huh? Really?”
Akito followed, hands in his pockets, watching Toya crouch slightly to inspect the prizes inside a machine filled with plush sea animals.
Toya leaned closer to the glass.
It was ridiculous(ly cute) how focused he got. Akito crossed his arms, pretending he wasn’t just watching Toya instead of the prizes.
Toya selected a machine, fed in coins, and handed a few to Akito automatically. It was their usual routine after all. Akito held them without comment while Toya maneuvered the claw with intense concentration.
The claw descended.
Grabbed at the plush, before slipping off.
Toya’s brows furrowed.
But of course—a singular attempt later, the claw snagged a plush seal and dragged it toward the chute.
Toya reached in and pulled it out carefully.
It was small and round, soft gray fabric, black beady eyes. Something about it made Toya pause.
He stared at it for a moment longer than usual.
Then he turned and held it out to Akito.
Akito blinked. “What?”
“For you,” Toya said.
Akito took it automatically, staring down at the seal in his hands.
It felt… familiar.
He couldn’t explain why.
Maybe it was just the expression. The slightly unimpressed look.
He huffed. “What, you saying I look like this?”
Toya considered him.
“…A little.”
“Oi!”
But he didn’t hand it back.
They kept playing after that, moving from claw machines to rhythm games to, inevitably—Puyo Puyo Tetris.
Akito—of course—got his ass absolutely kicked as Toya executed an eleven-chain combo.
The cascading colors filled the display.
Akito’s side was buried in garbage puyos.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Akito groaned.
Toya blinked at him. “Was that good?”
“Was that—” Akito ran a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable.”
Toya’s lips twitched faintly.
They left the arcade with tote bags full of plushies, the result of Toya’s persistence and Akito’s reluctant assistance. On their way out, Toya paused near a group of younger kids watching one of the machines.
Without hesitation, he handed a few plushies to them.
The kids lit up instantly.
Akito watched quietly as Toya smiled at them, shy but warm.
He tightened his grip on the seal plush in his hand. He kept that one, while Toya grabbed a matching one before they left.
They stepped out into the late afternoon light, the sky beginning to tint orange and pink. The air had cooled slightly, carrying the scent of grass from the nearby park. They headed there without discussion. It was where they practiced most evenings. Today, they just walked.
And also talked. Akito talked. A lot.
“And math today was so fucking annoying,” he complained, kicking lightly at a pebble on the path. “Like, who even needs half that stuff? I swear the teacher just makes it harder on purpose.”
“It wouldn’t be as hard if you studied,” Toya deadpanned.
Akito shot him a glare. “Oi! I do study!”
“With me.”
“That’s not the point!”
Toya didn’t respond, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.
Akito swung his free arm around Toya’s shoulders, pulling him closer. With the hand holding the seal plush, he reached up and ruffled Toya’s hair.
“Akito,” Toya protested.
“Nu uh,” Akito said, grinning. “You ain’t stopping me, partner.”
Toya let out a small laugh. Akito absolutely adored it.
And then—
Toya’s hand moved. He pulled Akito closer. Not casually, not on accident. His arms wrapped around him fully, embracing him in a hug.
Akito froze.
Toya had never done that before. He had never been the one who initiated contact like this. They stood in the middle of the path, the park quiet around them, the sky dimming into evening.
"What's up, partner?" Akito asked, as if his cheeks weren't heating up rapidly.
A brief pause, Toya hesitating on what to say.
“I love you, Akito,” he said.
...
Akito’s heart shot upward so fast it hurt.
And then it dropped.
Everything around him felt like it tilted.
“You…”
“Akito?” Toya pulled back slightly. “What’s wrong—ah…”
Something shifted in his expression.
“You don’t feel the same… for me?”
Akito shook his head. “No— it’s—”
The words wouldn’t come. Akito’s chest burned.
"I can’t perform with you anymore."
This isn't real.
"Our kind of music doesn’t mean anything."
This isn't real.
"It’s just a bunch of kids making some noise."
THIS ISN'T REAL.
The memory crashed over him violently.
Akito’s hands shook.
“…You’re not real,” he whispered.
Toya blinked. “What?”
“You’re not real,” Akito repeated, louder this time. His bangs fell forward, shadowing his eyes. “You’re not even real! Because...”
"Don’t you think it’s about time you grew up and stopped chasing after some tiny event that no one’s even heard of outside of this town?"
“Because the real Toya hates me!” Akito’s voice cracked. “The real Toya is a fucking liar and led me on!”
Tears spilled down his face before he could stop them. He harshly shoved Toya(?) away.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t possibly be.
In reality, Toya had broken it off.
BAD DOGS is done.
Akito had punched him.
They weren’t even friends anymore.
“Why?” Akito sobbed, voice shaking violently. “Why did you do that to me?!”
Toya looked horrified.
And that somehow hurt even more.
Akito woke up with his heart already racing.
For a second, he didn’t know where he was.
The park. The confession. The look on Toya’s face. The way the sky had split open beneath his feet.
His eyes snapped open to darkness instead.
His room.
The faint gray of early morning was already leaking through the curtains. The familiar outline of his desk. The crack in the ceiling he’d stared at too many nights in a row.
Without thinking, he rolled onto his side and began patting around the bed blindly, fingers skimming over sheets and rumpled blankets. His breathing was uneven, almost frantic as he searched.
It had to be there.
His hand finally brushed against soft fabric.
He grabbed it immediately, pulling it close.
The seal plushie.
The real one.
Not the dream version. Not some distorted memory. The actual plush Toya had given him a year ago for his birthday. Soft gray, slightly worn now from being handled too often, black bead eyes that stared back at him in quiet, unchanging expression.
Akito clutched it to his chest like it might disappear if he loosened his grip.
He shut his eyes again.
The dream lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind. Toya smiling at the gate. Toya at the arcade. Toya pulling him into a hug and saying those words so easily, so gently.
I love you, Akito.
His throat tightened painfully.
Liar.
Even in a dream, he was leading him on.
He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
For the somethingth time that week—he’d lost count by now—he woke up feeling like absolute shit.
It hit him before he could even sit up properly. That heavy, sinking feeling in his stomach. The dull ache behind his eyes. The kind of exhaustion that sleep never seemed to fix.
He pressed the plush closer to his face, breathing in slowly.
It didn’t smell like anything anymore. But he still remembered the day Toya had handed it to him.
It had been so casual. So unassuming. Just a small gift wrapped neatly, offered with that quiet sincerity Toya carried in everything he did.
“I thought you might like it,” he’d said.
Akito had rolled his eyes back then, made some offhand comment about how he wasn’t a kid anymore.
He’d kept it anyway.
He always kept everything his partner Toya gave him.
His eyes burned. He dragged a hand across his face and felt dampness there already.
Great.
He hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet. And he was already crying like some pathetic loser.
He pushed himself up slowly, sitting against the headboard.
His eyes were probably bloodshot—he hadn’t bothered checking the past few days. He hadn’t gone to school either. At first, he’d told himself it was just for a day. Just to cool off, to clear his head. Then one day became two—then three. And suddenly his attendance was looking screwed.
His phone lay face-down on his desk. He hadn’t checked it in hours. Maybe longer.
He swallowed hard and looked away.
He didn’t have to worry about appearances right now. No one was there to see him anyway. No teachers to scold him for looking exhausted. No classmates whispering about him and Toya suddenly not being attached at the hip.
He hadn’t stepped outside in days.
The world beyond his door felt distant. Like it belonged to someone else.
He looked down at the seal plush in his lap. Its beady black eyes stared back at him in that same neutral expression.
“Atleast you’re still here, right?” he muttered hoarsely.
Unlike everything else.
His chest tightened again, sharper this time.
Akito pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, trying to push the images away.
Why had it ended like that?
When had it started falling apart?
He’d always thought—no, he’d always believed—that whatever happened, they’d figure it out together. That even if they argued, even if they disagreed, they’d still be standing side by side in the end.
That was the point, wasn’t it?
BAD DOGS wasn’t just music.
It was them. Partners in everything.
Or at least… he’d thought so.
He curled forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, plush trapped between his arms and chest.
His throat burned.
He hated this. Hated it so much.
Hated feeling this weak. Hated waking up with tears already threatening to spill. Hated how quiet everything was without Toya’s steady presence somewhere in the background of his life.
He’d gotten so used to it.
Walking to school together.
Practicing until his body ached.
Arguing about small things that didn’t matter.
Sharing earphones.
He let out a shaky breath.
The dream had felt so real.
His fingers tightened around the plush.
It was stupid.
Pathetic.
To cling to something that didn’t exist.
But in the dream, for just a second, it had felt like none of it had happened. Like they were still just two partners. Like the future hadn’t fractured into a bajillion blurry pieces yet. Like Akito hadn't wore his heart on his sleeve, trusting that Toya will keep it safe, only to have him smash it on the floor and step on it.
He lowered his head, bangs falling into his eyes.
He wanted to cry.
Not just the quiet, frustrated tears that slipped out when he wasn’t paying attention.
The kind that left him feeling empty afterward.
He bit down on his lip instead.
His chest really, really hurt.
He really missed him.
He missed Toya’s voice. The way he said his name. The way he’d look at him when they performed, like they were the only two people in the world.
It had always been like that, hadn't it? BAD DOGS against the world...
He missed having someone who understood him without him having to explain everything.
He missed his partner.
He swallowed hard, eyes stinging again despite himself.
He really misses Toya.