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"Oh, c'mon!" Momo's voice echoed down the hallway of her home.
She had her hands reached out, that was enough to really bore Okarun. He hated having to do this. He hated this all so much, please he just really didn't want to-
"Throw the fuckin' ball already, goddammit!"
He flinched at the yell - fuck, don't make yourself look like such a pathetic little puppy in front of Miss Ayase!
Then finally, he raised his arm, took a wider step back than was necessary, just ignore that, and three, two, one...!
"Momo!!"
The ball went flying.
The doors behind Momo slid open.
Okarun felt every single organ inside of him shrivel into nothing.
In came Jiji with the brightest grin on his face alongside Momo's grandmother stood behind him with that fond smile she never gave Okarun - what was he doing wrong? Why couldn't he earn a smile like that?
Momo turned away instantly, and guilt instantly dimmed the room. The ball finally reached its destination.
And down went Jiji.
The look on Momo's grandmother's face was something Okarun doesn't think he'll ever forget...
~
"Are you sure you're okay?" Momo's voice whispered as she came around to where Jiji and Okarun were sat on the stairs with ice creams in her hands. She handed one off to Okarun, then to Jiji.
He got what Okarun was assuming caramel dipped, she got herself a really expensive looking chocolate ice cream bar. Okarun got plain vanilla.
Was that too simple? Boring? Did she prefer the dipped ones alongside Jiji? God, why couldn't he do anything right!?
He silently watched as Momo sat next to Jiji, watched as her hand came up to press lightly against the bruising on the bridge of his nose, quickly and profusely apologizing once he winced in response. Watched as Jiji licked a sliver of his own melted ice cream off her palm, listened to them laugh and shove each other and pass around old inside jokes that Okarun probably wouldn't get even if they were to explain it to him.
And there he felt it.
That deep, dark hole in his chest ripping itself a new one. He clenched his jaw, feeling as if he'd just zoomed out to view himself from an outsider's perspective. Sat on one side of the stairs, light as a feather, quiet as a duckling. There the other two sat on the opposite side, if there were to be an earthquake, maybe the ground would cave in on itself on their side. Or maybe he was thinking a whole of nonsense...
He looked away and internally scolded himself. Of course they'd be close! They literally grew up with each other, one had a crush one on the other - Okarun ignored that sinking feeling in his chest at that.
Just... try to input, do something at the very least! Okarun took in the deepest breath he could without his lungs wheezing in response, turned to the giggling duo - just say anything! Just say something!!
He opened his mouth, ready to blurt out absolute nonsense that Momo would stare at him like he was insane but then laugh and shove him like she always did, maybe Jiji would point and laugh too, maybe they'd include him into the conversation, maybe he'd actually do something socially correct for the damn first time-
"Ay, you lil' shits!" Momo's grandmother called out, already dressed in a weirdly shiny green robe, "Bedtime before you end up summoning demons again!"
Momo began to argue back and of course a fight between those two broke out whilst Jiji was in the middle and just grinning like the stupid and apparently charming idiot he was. Okarun was left to just sit and stare. Wonder if any of this was even worth it at all. Was it worth to keep being friends with them? His personality didn't necessarily match theirs whatsoever.
Momo was someone who was insanely confident. She was consistently ready to throw fists if the scenario called for it, ready to go out on an adventure and have several plans to make up on the spot in a state of emergency.
Jiji was everyone's favourite dork. He was funny, he was handsome, charming, knew all the buttons to push and how much to push them to trigger laughter. Knew how to socialise, how to get people to crack and smile with him even if he was just a stranger.
What was Okarun? He clenched his jaw, swallowing down the sinking feeling that he hated ever so much despite how long he's lived with it.
He stood up, boots scuffing against the rocky ground.
"I'll get going." He mumbled under his breath, one hundred percent certain that nobody even heard him. Wasn't their fault, he was too quiet for them, too closed off, not enough, never enough-
One, two trembling steps away, and still, nothing from the two.
They looked... bright. As if their shared energy was something that's always ignited whenever they came across one another.
Did Okarun ever have that with Miss Ayase?... Ugh, forget it.
He picked up his pace with his head turned downwards like he couldn't bare to keep thinking ahead of himself.
Minutes passed like eons and his steps gradually become the only source of sound mingled with his heavy breathing.
He gradually slowed down, the tightening in his chest loosening by just a smidge. Silence and darkness surrounded him. Not many of the lampposts were on at this time.
He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone to switch on his torch. God, it was going to take a long while until he got home. Hopefully his parents wouldn't be too upset with him. Maybe he could just tell he'd lost track of time, wouldn't be the first time anyway...
He let out a quiet sigh, rocks and sand crunching beneath his off-white beat sneakers. Ones that Momo had gifted to him, that she had said suited him way better than they did her.
He wondered what she meant by that. What exactly made them suit him more than her? Momo looked good in a lot of things, Okarun not so much.
He should've asked... He should've done a lot of things. Coward.
Five minutes turned into ten, then eventually a full twenty minutes had passed before he had finally made it home.
He'd greeted his parents with a slight bow of his head, his voice suddenly feeling to tight to be used so he'd just opted for gestures. They understood it enough. He quickly dismissed himself with a tired smile, ignoring the sharp pang in his chest from his mother's saddened face and his father's clearly concerned expression.
Once he closed his bedroom door, he tossed his bag aside and slid down to the floor. A weird mix of relief and guilt settled atop his chest like a physical weight pressing down on his lungs. He glanced down at his phone.
No new notifications.
Oh. Did Momo even know he left? Did she think he was in danger and was now looking for him? Did she-
No. No, that's stupid. She would've texted if that was the case. Overthinking everything yet again, no wonder people don't like people around you.
He switched off his phone, crawled all the way onto his bed and settled under the sheets, unbothering to go get changed. He curled up into a ball, legs tucked against his chest as if he were trying to press hard enough to trick the pressure enough into disappearing. A nightly routine.
Momo would be fine without him. She had Jiji. They had each other.
It was fine, he didn't really have the right to be jealous, or hurt, or whatever stupid unnecessary emotion.
He shut his eyes tight, arms circling around his legs as he pressed them harder against his chest. Jiji was better than Okarun anyways. He was funny, he was charismatic and could make Momo laugh. They could engage in long conversations with no end in sight. They had each other for years.
It was fine. He was fine. They didn't need him.
He brought his hands up to block his ears as if that'd block out his thoughts. It was fine. He was fine. It was all fine. Five minutes turned into ten. Ten into twelve. He repeated the sentiment until he'd eventually passed out from pure fatigue.
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