Chapter Text
Wind rustles through the cherry blossom trees, the canopy they form swaying slightly in the breeze. There's a flurry of people making their way to their next class, laughter and voices drifting across the campus. I walk underneath the shade, headphones in my ears, blissfully unaware (or maybe just ignorant) of the fight happening twenty metres away from me. I pause and stop walking, pulling out one of my earbuds.
Otoya Eita, the university's certified womaniser, is getting absolutely thrashed by some random guy. Probably because he stole his girlfriend, knowing Otoya.
Shidou Ryusei, a chaotic first year, is cheering Otoya on and laughing maniacally. I see a guy with spiky, dark purplish/blue hair silently filming the fight, smirking. Studying him, I purse my lips.
He looks familiar, I say to myself, before shrugging and walking away. I've probably just seen him around campus.
✧˚ · .
I make my way to my first class of the day, Modern Literature. It's one of my favourite classes, alongside History. As I walk inside the lecture hall, I notice I'm one of the first people to turn up. I make my way to the front of the class and sit down. I start pulling out my laptop and stationery, and within a few minutes, the class starts filling up—all seats but the one next to me taken. Mentally preparing myself, I take my time meticulously writing the date in my notebook.
"Excuse me, are ya saving that seat for anyone?" A voice interrupts me while I'm setting up my notes.
I glance up and immediately recognise the deep purple hair and sharp eyes from earlier surveying me.
"No, I'm not," I reply, as I turn back to my notebook.
He smirks lightly as he takes his stuff out of his bag, taking the seat beside me. "Nice weather we've got."
I mumble something in agreement.
"Do you enjoy this class?"
I look at him again, realising he's going to keep making small talk.
"It'd be better if it weren't so early," I reply dryly.
Something on the left side of his face catches my eye. A mole. I shrug and look away, but I can't shake the feeling that I know him from somewhere. Indigo hair. Sharp eyes. A mole. That mole... I whip my head up and turn to face him once more. He's already looking back at me with a smug grin on his face.
Karasu Tabito. Someone I hadn't seen in five years. Someone I wasn't on very good terms with when I left Osaka. A grudge I had tried so hard to bury suddenly tries to resurface.
"Takahashi Emi. I wouldn't have recognised ya if it weren't for the fact ya still have that clueless look on yer face all the time." He smirks at me before turning to the front of the class. I stare at him, mouth agape, speechless.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I snarl.
He says nothing, ignoring me with a grin on his face. I'm about to push the subject further, but then the professor enters the room.
Two hours and multiple pages of notes later, the lecture is finally over. I turn to Karasu, about to say something, but the words die on my lips as I see he's already packed up all his stuff and is already out of his seat. I shrug, slowly packing up my own stuff.
✧˚ · .
Walking out of my class, I head towards the nearest vending machine, suddenly craving onigiri. I'm so focused on thinking about food that I'm not paying attention to where I'm walking, and I immediately bump into a towering wall of solid muscle. I rapidly shoot apologies at the person, backing up. As I look up, I'm met with a face framed by cyan hair.
"Yo? What are you doing here?" I question, slightly dazed from the impact. He smiles gently at me.
"Other than the fact that I go to this university? I'm just getting somethin' from the vending machine, same as ya."
"Wasn't your last class for the day on the other side of the school? Why are you coming to the vending machine as far away as possible?"
"...I came here for ya, actually."
I stare at him blankly.
"Stalker."
He gives me a sheepish grin, shrugging, not even trying to deny it anymore. I sigh, dragging my hand down my face.
"Ok, what did you need from me?" I ask him, reaching for the vending machine. He grabs my wrist in his hand. Turning to him, I scowl.
"Hey, I want my food!"
He laughs, letting go of my arm.
"I came to ask if ya wanted to study with me at a cafe, my shout. But obviously vending machines are much more appealing to ya..." He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, turning away. I huff.
"Fine, I'll come with you. But you'd better be paying, I spent the last of my money on manga."
✧˚ · .
"Yo? You know Karasu Tabito, right?"
We'd arrived at a cute little cafe, filled with plants and almost no customers. Yo had kept his promise and bought me food (maybe too much food), and now we'd been working in companionable silence for half an hour.
"Hm? Oh, Karasu! Yeah, we're still friends, and we play on the university football team together. Actually... Why aren't you guys still friends? The three of us hung out all the time. When ya moved away, ya kept in contact with me. Why not him?" Realisation dawns on his face.
"Hold on, yer not still mad about that fight you guys had, right?"
I shrug. "I bumped into him today. Turns out we've been in the same class this entire semester, and I hadn't even noticed. Although I didn't even recognise him, he recognised me first. And about the fight, I doubt he even remembers, so I should forget too. I was perfectly civil to him, so I'm already partway there."
"Okay, first of all, we're only a few weeks into the semester, so that's completely valid. Second of all, yer telling me that ya have been holding onto that fight from five years ago? What even happened for ya to hold a grudge that long?" He looks shocked.
Even though Yo was one of my closest friends, I'd never told him what went down between Karasu and me. He knew that we had a huge fight that ended our friendship, but that was only because he had found me crying outside. I don't really want to relive the argument, so I just shrug.
"It's not important," I say firmly, standing up. "I'm going to the bathroom."
He nods, looking slightly concerned, pulling out his phone.
When I'm inside the bathroom, I let out a shaky breath, splashing water on my face. I stare at my reflection for a few seconds before walking back to our table.
"Ya good?" Yo asks, smiling at me softly. I nod, resuming my studying. We continue working quietly for another 15 minutes, until suddenly I'm disrupted by the bell on the door ringing. Yo and I look up at the same time, just to be greeted by Karasu. He walks over to our table, smirking.
"Would ya look at that? Is this a childhood reunion?" He pulls up a chair, not waiting for us to invite him to the table. Yo smiles.
"Pretty much! Man, it's been too long since the three of us have hung out!"
I give Yo a confused look, and Karasu notices.
"Hiori, did ya not tell Takahashi I was coming? That's not very nice of ya." Karasu smiles slyly, helping himself to one of the pastries in front of me. We make eye contact as he eats it in front of me.
"Hey! That's mine!"
They both ignore me.
"Ahh, it must've slipped my mind! Emi doesn't mind, though, do ya?" Yo says, turning to me with a guilty smile on his face. I stare at him. He stares back. Did we not just talk about how I'm still mad at Karasu over a fight we had five years ago?
"Nope!" I say, pasting a grin on my face.
I go back to studying, trying to ignore Karasu's intense gaze. Eventually, he also starts studying, quiet falling over us, the only sound being the soft music playing in the cafe. Twenty minutes later, I'm fed up with math equations. I stand up abruptly, startling the boys.
"Ugh, I'm done with this. I'm going home. Thanks for the food, Yo." I gather my things, walking away.
"Wait. Takahashi."
I turn to see Karasu standing as well.
"I'll walk ya to yer bus stop. It's late, after all." He smirks, walking to the door and holding it open for me.
"Uhh, thanks?" I say, shooting Yo a confused look. He looks equally bewildered, shrugging apologetically. I step outside and start walking. We walk side by side in amicable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up.
"I actually had an ulterior motive for walking ya out."
"I figured," I say dryly.
He stops walking, facing me, making me stop too.
"Why'd ya suddenly cut me off when ya left?"
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