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At first blush, the word “surprise” may not seem apt to describe whatever this was that had been causing Taki to shake all morning. The other eight have gotten used to his refusal to speak about his sudden nervousness, although he can feel it—a particular unbecoming that is going to overcome him if the door in his closet, right above the dinner table, continues to slide open and close. The hustling and bustling in the kitchen, along with the unforgivable volume of the television, were, for once, subject to Taki’s gratitude. With the unrelenting anxiety, he forced himself to stand up, accidentally pushing the chair too hard in the process. But he remained secretive—the other eight chose to ignore it… Well, one tried to, but he was far too nosy for his own good.
With an air of determination dusting his tracks, Yuma followed, discreetly, until he arrived at the entrance of Taki’s room. It was the smallest room in their house, but Taki didn’t mind as he got to have it alone. Yuma doesn’t know how he does it, how he could spend more than an hour away from everyone. He couldn’t do that—he’d definitely go mad, yearning for some sort of bonding with his members, whether it just be breathing in the same room, or going out for an actual activity.
Yuma didn’t step in, but he could hear something. Two people talking. Confusion made itself known in the curves of his face and the tilt of his head when he realized that the other voice, the one not belonging to Taki, was not distant at all. It didn’t come from a telephone. It was too clear, too steady, and too familiar. It sounded like his voice.
Yuma carefully pushed the door further, peaking over the wall. His steps were cotton-light, like the paws of a cat born for mischief. Bangs fell above his squinting eyes, clouding his view until he tucked them away with a hairclip he stole from Harua’s stash in their bathroom. He still couldn’t see who Taki was talking to, but he could make out the younger’s stressed expression, and the frantic arm gestures—until the floor creaked under him at least. Taki froze, turning to Yuma, and he couldn’t turn back in time.
The expression painted on Taki’s face was quite amusing, and Yuma would’ve stayed to tease him if it wasn’t for the anomaly standing in front of him, caged like a stray kitten inside Taki’s surprisingly spacious closet.
“Where do you keep your clothes...?” Yuma asked before he could stop himself. It was a beneficial moment, easing the tension in the room. He could clearly see the anomaly’s shoulders drop down a little. Still, he had questions.
Taki’s eyebrows met as he shot Yuma a bewildered look. “Uhm, in my drawers… aren’t you gonna—”
“Address the elephant in the room?” Yuma finished the question himself, eyeing the thing chilling in Taki's closet. He finds himself growing restless and uncomfortable. It was like staring into a severely lagging mirror.
“Hey, I’m not an elephant,” the feline-like man, now sitting criss-cross on the closet floor, stated as if it wasn’t already obvious that he wasn’t an elephant. Yuma forced a smile.
“Fine, Mr. Anomaly—”
“Not that either,” he shot with speed, and Yuma could feel a migraine coming. Taki stood in between the two, anticipating a fight, but Yuma pushed him aside and crouched down to meet the man’s eyes. It looked back with the same intense gaze, squinting as if to evaluate Yuma back, as if to judge his realness. Suddenly, he popped a smirk, shutting the closet door as hard as he could for the hundredth time. It was only eleven in the morning and Taki already had enough of this.
With the way Taki sighed like a defeated old man and threw the closet door open again, it seemed like this was ongoing. Yuma felt an itch in his throat. Why was it behavingexactly like him?
“Please, try to stay hidden?” Taki pleaded, massaging his temples.
“I want to go out. You're keeping me caged like an animal,” it retorted. What was Taki supposed to do? He couldn't just let him walk out in broad daylight, especially when Yuma was around. And it wasn't like Yuma had more than two pairs of the same outfit. It would never work. Taki paused his pondering when he realized what he was doing—why was he finding ways to adapt to this situation? No, he needed to fix this, especially now that Yuma found out, significantly making everything so much worse.
When Taki forgot to respond to that fact, being far too distracted by his train of thought, the closet door slammed shut again. Yuma and Taki heard a yell from downstairs, sounding like it came from Kei. Oh no, another slam and he might just barge into the room himself. What would he think of this? Worse, what would Luné think? Taki got distracted by the what ifs once again, assuming that Luné would actually maybe not mind having two Yumas. Maybe then, he wouldn't have to share his Yuma.
“This is freaky,” Yuma muttered, bringing his hand up to hold the man’s face. He was bent down, turning it to the left, then to the right, then up, and down, and—it tore his hand away.
Taki fidgeted with the hem of his shirt after tuning back in, waiting patiently for anything—a fight, or a smack; however, Yuma would react, he made peace with accepting whatever would be thrown at him from the moment Yuma entered the scene. But no matter how much he made peace with it, realistically, the concept of Yuma screaming at him felt unlikely. He really needed to stop catastrophizing. That's entirely the reason why this whole thing happened anyway.
“Okay, now explain,” Yuma dropped his hands and turned to Taki, all serious and investigating. Taki felt even smaller than usual, even when Yuma was looking up at him with his beautiful eyes. Beautiful, but angry eyes. Taki cleared his throat to explain as clearly as he could without giving too much away.
“I don’t really know how it happened. All I remember is making a wish last week—”
“Last week?!” Yuma cried out. “You kept this from everyone for a week?! Taki…”
Taki flinched at Yuma’s surprise, but continued his explanation regardless. This was it for him. The moment that would taint Yuma’s image of him. But he had to push forward, because admittedly, Yuma deserved an explanation as to why there was a second Yuma, tucked in Taki’s closet.
“I wanted your attention,” Taki mumbled. It was as if Yuma’s ears legitimately perked up. Taki had made it almost incomprehensible, but Yuma could make out the pattern of words, decode the vowels and consonants until they strung together something coherent.
Yuma was speechless for a moment, but a smirk rose, causing Taki to groan in embarrassment.
“Taki, if you wanted my attention, you could’ve just asked,” Yuma cooed. There goes Taki's plan of not revealing too much. He had underestimated Yuma's ability to read in between the lines. Yuma's famous tilted smile shamelessly teased Taki to redness. However, there were still some pressing matters to be dealt with.
“So, your wish backfired,” Yuma analyzed, turning back to the second Yuma—okay, this was far too confusing. He huffed.
“We need a nickname,” Yuma interrupted his train of thought, “Yuyu?”
Taki shook his head. “That’s what Nico calls you.”
“Right,” Yuma grinned, finding it absolutely hilarious how easy Taki was to read.
“What about… Kitty!” second Yuma proposed. Yuma raised an eyebrow, almost protesting, but then Taki’s head whipped upwards in shock.
That was what Taki had been calling Yuma secretly. That was what Taki had actually been wanting to call him in person, but he always cowered away, thinking it would make his stupid feelings obvious. Taki used it for Kitty, because, well... because it's not exactly directed to Yuma... and the endearment felt teasing, intimate, definitely not something a friend could casually mix into a conversation. The nuance of it was too much—or maybe Taki was just a freak.
“You already call Yuma ‘kitty’ anyway, and I’m also Yuma, so it’s the same thing,” Kitty literally purred. Yuma, still half shocked but developing a more concerning emotion, joined Kitty in teasing him.
“Is that so, Riki?”
Right, as if Taki wasn’t already vulnerable enough, Yuma had to pull the government name out. It was supposed to feel foreign to his ear, especially since ‘Taki’ had become what was natural for everyone, but Yuma had said it a little bit slurred, a little bit too enticing, and he had forgotten the strangeness of it with just a gulp. Two Yumas was too much for Taki, and with every second, he felt the urge to find a way to reverse this get stronger and stronger. For the sake of his sanity, and probably everyone else, considering how strange this was, he needed to find a way to fix this. As soon as possible.
He had tried all that he could. Googling, scrolling through reddit, even contacting a shaman, but nothing came out of it. He even tried lighting candles, praying to whatever supernatural being he could to take his wish back. That didn't work either. No salt, no sigils, no nothing. Which is why Kitty had been chilling in his closet for a week while he figured everything out.
Taki nodded. “Yeah. I’ll stop if you want—”
Yuma shushed him with a kiss. Totally unprompted, totally unexpected. Taki tensed, unable to reciprocate due to his shock. Yuma pulled away when Taki wasn’t responding, tilting his head in question again as he licked his lip to taste Taki’s traces. He really was like a cat.
“Sorry, I wanted to test something. I mean this could've been just like the princess and the frog or something. Sleeping beauty. Snow White... They all required kisses, y'know,” Yuma said in the most monotone voice ever, wanting to seem nonchalant despite just kissing Taki like it was a normal day.
“Oh, uhm. It's fine... It didn't work,” Taki muttered. He was glad for his hair being long. He would've easily used the excuse of having blush-on if Yuma pointed out his abnormally red cheeks, but he didn't think he could find an excuse for his warming ears. Silence fell upon them after, until Kitty’s muffled giggles masked it, and Taki had to beg with his eyes for him to stay quiet, but of course, he did not listen.
“What are you giggling about?” Yuma raised an eyebrow in annoyance. He wished he would go away. He didn’t want to fight for Taki’s focus—one Yuma was enough. He didn’t want to share.
“Just—” Kitty fell forward in laughter, “he’s different now.”
“Different? How?”
“When we kiss, he’s usually much more confident,” Kitty admitted, and Taki wished the ground would open up to swallow him already. He wished that this was all a dream—except for the part where Yuma… but anyhow, this was embarrassing. This wasn’t how he wanted this to play out—he should’ve told Yuma properly, rehearsed it a couple of times, done it where Kitty wasn’t present.
And it didn’t help that Yuma looked terribly angry.
“Taki, look at me,” Yuma said, a little quieter now, and much more careful, as if he was herding his emotions. He still had that playful glint in his eye, but it wasn’t as apparent. Instead, he was more concerned, or maybe terrified, maybe hateful. Taki wouldn’t blame him if that was the case. I mean, like Kitty had aired out, he kind of did kiss Yuma without his consent—well, Kitty consented, but he wasn’t Yuma. He couldn’t actually be Yuma. And he could never be Yuma.
Taki was having a terrible ethical dilemma.
“Taki,” Yuma repeated until they met eyes. “You kissed him?”
Taki was frozen stiff. Yuma was trying to hide his frustration, but it proved unsuccessful when Taki suddenly fell to tears, succumbing to his guilt. Yuma thought that he pestered too hard, that he was too demanding for answers. He felt terrible, and so he retracted his hands, mimicking Taki’s stiffness.
“I’m sorry, Yuma, I just… I wasn’t thinking properly. And I didn’t know how to fix this, so I thought that if I didn’t have a chance with the real you, at least I had him.” Taki apologized, and Yuma softened after hearing him out.
“Hey, I’m not mad. You couldn’t have possibly controlled… whatever this is.”
Taki wasn’t convinced.
“It’s okay if you hate me,” Taki said through his sniffles. Yuma inched closer and wiped his tears, even as they kept spilling, and even as they soaked both of his sleeves, he didn’t really care. He couldn’t be mad when he also had secrets of his own concerning Taki.
“I don’t hate you,” Yuma said.
Taki was closing in again, and Yuma couldn't have that. Yuma inhaled sharply, finding the circumstances ridiculous, but he didn’t know how else to calm Taki down.
“I also have feelings for you,” Yuma confessed. And it worked for a second, with Taki looking at him with glassy eyes blown wide in surprise, until he broke and teared up once again. Yuma looked at Kitty for help, but he just shrugged, earning a glare from Yuma. ‘Screw you,’ Yuma mouthed at him.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Taki said, fist clenched.
“I’m not—” Yuma sighed a bit too loudly. Okay, sue him; he had much to work on regarding his patience, but also, he needed Taki to stop crying. It was making his chest feel tight, and his stomach hurt. The discomfort was far too much to bear, and he had a hint that Taki was probably feeling something similar, and that thought made Yuma even more uncomfortable.
Yes, Yuma teased too hard, probably, but he didn’t want Taki to be upset. And it’s not like he thought this would happen—if he did, he would’ve approached the situation differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have followed Taki upstairs, or sat through breakfast trying to hide his worry when Taki was less talkative and bubbly this morning. Although he didn’t regret finally coming clean. He had a suspicion that Taki did have a crush on him, but it was only a mere speculation, and an untrustworthy one, considering it was Fuma who planted it in his head. Fuma has a track record of messing with the other seven and himself.
“Fine, if you don’t believe me, then…” Yuma tugged at the younger’s collar, violently bringing him closer before crashing their lips together. Yuma’s eyebrows furrowed when Taki still wasn’t responsive, but he was determined to get a reaction this time, so he kept kissing. And ultimately, Taki overcame his denial and kissed back, with a little bit of hesitation, but Yuma was victorious. He kissed with eagerness, wrapped his fingers around Taki’s hair, making Taki groan, which caused him to giggle into the kiss.
That was the opportunity Yuma needed to explore Taki further. He tasted a little bit like cherries, probably his lip gloss, or maybe he was just naturally sweet. Whatever it was, Yuma found himself unable to get enough of it. His tongue swirled around Taki’s mouth, and their teeth clinked with each other. Yuma tried to keep breathing through his nose as he pushed and sucked, to keep this going on for longer, but he had to force himself to stop when Taki needed a rest. But even then, he didn’t let Taki catch his breath for too long before connecting their lips again.
This time, it wasn’t violent. This time, Yuma lowered his pride and his frustration and kissed Taki agonizingly slowly, with something that meant love. A slight whimper came from Yuma, then some silent tugging, quiet pleading—he pushed Taki towards his pillow and straddled him, not once disconnecting. Still doing his best to make his sincerity known.
When he pulled back, looking beneath him at Taki’s disheveledness with the most pathetic look on his face that Taki has ever seen, he was breathless too. Half-lidded eyes and fingers tracing up to caress Taki’s face.
“Have I convinced you yet?” Yuma bit his lip. Taki was mesmerized, and even with all the events that lead to this, this particular moment felt the most surreal. Not the moment when he suddenly woke up to Kitty’s presence a week ago, not even when he went downstairs for a sip of water and almost choked when Yuma was lounging on the sofa, chatting with Maki as they watched anime on the television.
The fact that Yuma meant what he said—Taki was having a hard time processing it. His moments with Kitty made it easy because he wasn’t Yuma. It was easier for him because he had already convinced himself that Yuma would never like him like he did. So, knowing it wasn’t Yuma, knowing he somehow found a loophole even though it still hurt, made him override all his logic. It did hurt, but it hurt less. And he wouldn’t have to ruin his friendship with Yuma.
But in reality, he had just the same chances with Yuma that he did with Kitty. He was glad to finally know this. He was comforted to know that this was even better than his fantasies. To have Yuma be close to him, it was surreal, but it made him happy. And surreal didn’t necessarily mean bad.
“You have to kiss me more to prove it.”
Yuma rolled his eyes, but lowered his body anyway, kissing Taki everywhere on his face. On his cheeks, his nose, the curves of his jaw, the corners of his lips. And in between each kiss, he whispered lovingly, “Riki, Riki, Riki.” He could deny it for however long he wanted, but it was obvious to everyone and himself that his soft spot for Taki was way too big, and way too pliant for him. It was a good thing that Taki didn't know his effect on Yuma yet, but at the same time, he wouldn't even mind if he knew and used it to his advantage. If it meant keeping a smile on Taki's face, it wouldn't be too bad.
It was only when they heard a silent bang that they both realized that Kitty was watching. They both jerked up, but Kitty wasn't there anymore. Nor was he anywhere in the room. Taki started to panic, thinking he went downstairs all by himself, but he would've noticed if that was the case. If not him, Yuma would've. Kitty was gone. Really gone, and in his place was a letter, floating and written in sparkling gold: ‘your wish is my command.’
As if a floating letter was normal, they didn’t mind it.
Taki laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I was so helpless that they had to send an entity to deal with me.”
Yuma giggled in the crook of his neck, nuzzling into him. “Stop talking about him now before I kick you.”
“You were jealous?”
“So what if I was? He took your first kiss, didn’t he?”
Taki threw his head back in amusement. “No, actually, we already kissed in the past. Remember when we rehearsed the Pepero game in the studio bathroom?”
“Wait, but that wasn’t—”
“It was real to me, Kitty.”
Yuma found himself smiling stupidly at it, but his satisfaction soon took the form of surprise when Harua burst into Taki's room, apparently looking for his gel nail kit. He was frozen at the foot of the bed after looking up from his phone, seeing Yuma on top of Taki; seeing both of them with red, swollen lips.
Oh.
“Oh!” Harua said, not looking surprised in the slightest. He took a sharp turn and left right after, and Yuma let go of the breath he didn't know he had been holding
“We’re… telling the others later,” Yuma laughed awkwardly, his hands curled into a fist, resting on Taki's chest. He wasn't that different from Kitty after all.
“And the closet is off limits. Forever.”