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“You have zero backbone.”
Maki puts the car in park as she says this, making her point for maybe the nth time.
Shuichi leans back against the headrest of the seat, a long, exhausted sigh leaving him. “I know.”
“No, you clearly don’t.” She shoots him a quick glare. “How do you even get yourself into this mess?”
Shuichi stares at the house through the car window, across the street. It’s modest, all things considered; Kaito doesn’t exactly have the richest upbringing. It’s somehow more daunting, given that his own family has always been on the more well-off side of the finance scale. He doesn’t really know what he’s meant to expect.
“He just asked,” sputters Shuichi, burying his face in his hands. “He seemed… desperate, s-so I agreed.”
Maki shakes her head disaprovingly. “Whatever. I’m running late to pick up Kaede from the airport, so… good luck.”
Which is her polite way of saying: Get out of my car.
“Right.” He tries to hype himself up with one last breath. “Thanks, Maki.”
He sets his bag on the ground, anxiously pulling out his phone. His thumbs waver over the keyboard a few moments before he shoots the text that begins all of the events this upcoming weekend.
I’m outside… Do I just ring the bell?
Kaito replies back in an instant.
No I’ll meet ya out there 👍
So he waits. Behind him, he can hear Maki start the car again and leave, sealing his fate for the next forty-eight hours.
It really isn’t the worst thing. He tells himself this repeatedly, as if that would ease his nerves. Kaito insists that his grandmother is nice! And loving! And all Shuichi has to do is go along with what he says, and maybe toss in his own anecdote or two. It’s not as if he’s the most convincing liar, but besides the whole “lying to a poor old woman” thing that kept him up last night, the majority of this is affirming to her what a lovely grandson she’s raised.
And Kaito is great. More than that, really. Amazing in every right and in every endeavor. Everyone always thought he was going to peak in high school, but Kaito has always fought hard to beat those expectations. If anyone also believed in him, it’d be his grandmother, and so there’s not really much fooling involved.
So, really, it should be a breeze. Mark the keyword.
Shuichi turns off his phone, lighting tapping his palm with the back of it.
After a few minutes, the door opens—and it stays open for a few moments, the sound of loud chatter spilling out. He hears the distinct sound of Kaito laughing, then a series of wait, wait, hold on, I’ll bring her in, and then he pops his head out.
His eyes of amethyst find his, and seemingly sparkle with the light of a thousand stars, even in broad daylight. “Babe!”
Something in Shuichi’s chest flutters. He hurriedly stamps it out like a flame. “Kaito,” he greets, much quieter, though a smile draws across his face.
(They didn’t quite talk about how much of this was going to go. Shuichi realizes that just follow my lead is not the most solid instruction to follow; he’s still mentally stumbling around like a complete idiot.)
Kaito hurries down the small set of stairs as Shuichi leans down to pick up his discarded bag on the sidewalk. Before he can fully stand up, though, he’s pulled into a tight embrace—an awkward embrace—but it’s a full hug, and Shuichi reacts to it as he always does by completely tensing up.
“Hey, Shuichi,” he whispers quickly, “Thanks for showing up. I promise I’ll explain everything inside.”
Realizing that he’s already managing to fail at playing his role, he reaches up to pat Kaito’s bare shoulder. (He’s bold to be wearing a tanktop in late fall, but it’s about on brand for him.)
“Of course,” he says, trying not to press his face into the nape of his neck.
(Already, he thinks this is a bad idea. His face is unmistakably warm. Maki was probably right. She’s usually right, especially when she’s calling him out for impulsively going along with whatever people ask of him.
But it’s Kaito. How could he have turned him down?)
One hour in.
Kaito tugs Shuichi away from his grandmother in the kitchen.
He didn’t exactly knock it out of the park. In true Shuichi-fashion, all he really did was stand there and awkwardly nod along, a small laugh leaving him here and there as he tried to look anywhere except Kaito’s grandmother’s face. The glimpses he did catch were almost nauseating.
It’s not that his grandmother is a scary woman. She isn’t, not at all. She has short hair, white with age, that curls around her chin and frames her warm smile. Surprisingly, she’s a lot shorter than Shuichi was expecting, considering Kaito’s height—but he supposes that genes are weird like that. And she speaks with such pride and joy that her dear grandson has found a lover that supports his dreams; she made Shuichi promise to take good care of him.
It makes him feel guilty that this is a lie.
But there’s another pressing question that hasn’t been addressed.
After closing the door, Kaito turns to him, an embarrassed look on his face. “Shuichi—”
“Does your grandma think I’m a girl?” He practically blurts the question.
The other man’s expression turns apprehensive. He stammers for a while, trying to find a good excuse. Eventually, he caves. “Okay, yes! I was… This was kinda what I meant with just go with it.”
Shuichi presses his lips together in a nervous, firm line. He was not told about this.
“Surely, you didn’t come up with this last second, did you?”
“No!” Kaito shuts his eyes when he realizes how defensive he sounds, and he lowers his voice to avoid alerting his grandmother. “Look, I just— I kind of told you what happened. I offhandedly said I was in a relationship, she got invested, the lie kinda spun out.” He rubs the back of his neck, running his other hand through his hair. “And she assumed my partner was a girl. Obviously! What else would she assume?”
Shuichi tries not to linger on that implication too much; he’s stamping a burning fire in his chest all over again.
“Why did you ask me then?”
To which, Kaito doesn’t seem to have a particularly good answer for. “Because I was out of options,” he admits. “I didn’t wanna tell her that I lied! Or that this non-existent girlfriend of mine like, bailed on coming over last second.”
Shuichi can’t really look up at his face. He glances to the side, capturing his own reflection in the dark screen of the small television set up in the living room. “If I had known, that would have changed things.”
(No, it really wouldn’t. Shuichi would go along with almost anything that Kaito says.)
Kaito sighs, his own frustration clear. “Shit, I’m sorry, Shuichi. But we’re in on this now, okay? Together.” He steps closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’d be pissed if I had to pretend to be a girl, but… if anyone’s got this, it’s you.”
Shuichi pauses before looking up at Kaito. He finds himself caught up on the hand on his shoulder, holding him ever-so reassuringly. “I-It’s not like I mind,” he mumbles, and he does mean that. “If you’d told me before, I could have… prepared better, though.”
Kaito nods slowly, breaking into a small chuckle. “Yeah, well, I doubt you’ve got any dresses on hand anyway. C’mon, Nana’s gonna want us to help her make dinner.”
Seven hours in.
Shuichi sits down on the ground in the guest room.
Well, it’s still more Kaito’s room than anything. It was once his, before he attended Hope’s Peak Academy, according to his grandmother. After he graduated, he moved back in at home, and so the room became his again—it shows, too. There are space posters plastered on the walls, a model of the solar system set up on top of his dresser, and the blanket on his bed has a cheap galaxy print on it.
It's endearing. Shuichi can only imagine what the room looked like when Kaito was growing up.
He runs a hand through his damp hair, brushing it out of his face. It's now that he realizes that it's probably a good thing he's been putting off that haircut; his hair has grown out to be the length of a messy mullet, but it passes for a girl. It really isn't the worst thing in the world. Kaito looked really apologetic about it the whole time, his grin falling awkwardly every time his grandmother looked away from the two of them, but it didn't bother Shuichi as much as he thought it was going to.
The door swings open and in steps Kaito, rubbing his hair with a towel. He shuts the door behind him, and Shuichi watches him puzzledly scan the room until—
“Shit, Shuichi!” He exclaims, spotting him on the ground. “You scared the hell out of me!”
Shuichi blinks a few times, a nervous mile crossing his face. “…Sorry?”
Kaito covers his own mouth, glancing behind him at the closed door again. His grandmother probably doesn’t like to hear him swear. “Nah, not your fault,” he says in a voice that's a touch calmer. “What are you doing on the ground?”
A question he doesn’t have much of an answer for. “I didn't want to sit on your bed,” he explains, then quickly tacks on, “b-because it felt rude. Without you in the room. Since this is your… room.”
(Fantastic work, Shuichi.)
Kaito pauses for a beat before laughing, offering a hand out. “Look, sidekick, you're welcome to sit wherever,” he says, using his other hand to gesture throughout the room. “Especially because you're my…” He debates what term to use. “Partner.”
Despite his reservations, Shuichi feels butterflies in his stomach all the same; that fluttering feeling that he can't quite name. (No, he's certain he can name it—it's just embarrassing.)
Regardless, he does take Kaito's hand, and he helps pull him back up to his feet.
Then, Kaito turns to the bed, wrapping his towel around the back of his neck. “Right, so.” He clears his throat. “How do you wanna do this?”
Oh, right. This is Kaito's room. And the guest room.
(And Shuichi is his boyfriend-slash-girlfriend-slash-whatever for the weekend, so regardless, they'd be expected to share the room. For some reason, that hadn't crossed his mind either.)
“Well, I mean… your carpet's not bad,” Shuichi half-jokes, only because he thinks about the prospect of sleeping in the same bed as Momota Kaito and he feels the need to sit down again.
Unfortnate for him, Kaito takes his words seriously, and shakes his head like as if he’s suggested to kill someone instead. “What? Hell no!” His eyebrows furrow, and he keeps shaking his head as he approaches the bed, hitting the mattress with his bare hand as if it’d make some kind of idea come to fruition. “If anything, you get priority on the bed.”
“I-I can’t do that,” reasons Shuichi, burying the lower half of his face in his hand. “I know you aren’t going to sleep on the floor… Because this is your house.”
Kaito purses his lips, brushing his hand under his goatee. Then, he simply replies, “Guess we’ll share.”
He feels lightheaded.
…But somehow, they do make it work.
(Even if Shuichi does not sleep that night, kept wide-awake by his own thoughts.)
Eighteen hours in.
“I got it, Nana,” says Kaito, pressing his hands against his grandmother’s shoulders, forcing her to stay seated at the table. He scoops up the bowls of dinner leftovers that they proceeded to have for breakfast that morning, and when he swings his arm over Shuichi’s head to collect his dish, he leans in close to his cheek.
And Shuichi almost shies away, but he catches a glimpse of Ms. Momota, and stills when Kaito presses a quick kiss to his face.
(Internally, he’s freaking out. This morning, he and Kaito had a conversation about putting on a bit more of a show—because it doesn’t take a detective like Shuichi to figure out that they currently aren’t the most convincing.
Kaito reasoned that Ms. Momota probably didn’t need too much to believe in the act, but… well, they’re pretending to date for forty-eight hours. After this, they’ll have to act like friends as usual again.
So, Shuichi can have this much, if nothing else.)
“Aww,” Ms. Momota coos, and Shuichi nervously chuckles as Kaito leaves the room.
Oh.
He did not think about what to do when left alone with his grandmother.
“I hope you both slept well last night,” she continues, pulling a book of crossword puzzles closer to her person. She reaches towards the middle of the table for her glasses, but Shuichi takes the initiative to hand her the item halfway. “I know Kaito’s room is quite small. I imagine it’s cozy, given the colder weather these days…”
Shuichi swallows dryly. This is small talk. He can do small talk. “Yeah, it was… cozy,” he parrots in the higher pitch he’s been using all morning, awkwardly fumbling with his own hands. A chuckle leaves him as he adds, “He kicks in his sleep.”
Ms. Momota seems to find some humor in that too, laughing heartily as she flips to a clean page. “Oh, still? You know, when he was younger, he’d sneak into my husband and I’s room at night and wiggle in between us.” She smiles warmly at the memory, glancing up at Shuichi as she reminisces. “He’d get away with it until he fell asleep! All he did was kick his poor Pops.”
The visual of young Kaito trying to get away with it makes Shuichi laugh a little harder—something more genuine, more than the pleasant chuckles he’s been pushing out.
And then Ms. Momota points her pen at him from across the table. “Aha, there it is.”
Which makes Shuichi’s expression falter immediately; he glances around his person, trying to look for whatever it is that Ms. Momota is looking at. “There’s what?”
“There’s you,” she replies, jabbing the pen in his direction again. “You know, Shu, you’re so bundled up all of the time. Little bunch of nerves, you are.”
“Me?” (Really, he knows she’s referring to him. There’s no one else in the room and Shuichi is self-aware, if nothing else.)
“Yes! Oh, you remind me of my late husband.” Despite speaking of the dead, she doesn’t seem the least saddened by it. There’s a part of Shuichi that feels inclined to apologize for reminding her of him, but his lips stay shut. “When it came to new faces, he was always so clamped up. When our son brought home his fiance, he scared her, you know.”
Shuichi leans forward a little. “How so?”
“He was so quiet, she assumed he hated her. Meanwhile, he was fussing over how to get his future daughter-in-law to like him.” Ms. Momota sighs, her eyes flicking back down to the crossword puzzle in front of her. “If I had to guess, those two probably laugh about it now in Heaven. How silly people’s thoughts can be, when we get in over our heads.”
This is the most that Shuichi’s ever learned about Kaito’s family. Not that Kaito doesn’t talk about them much—he’s heard so much about his grandmother, who raised him most primarily—but there just isn’t much to say about people who are dead. His parents and his grandfather all passed when he was quite young, and Shuichi has learned that even memories grow old and faded.
He covers the lower half of his face with one hand, staring at the crossword puzzle as she methodically works on it. “They sound like great people, ma’am,” he says; he’s not too sure what else there is for him to offer.
“They had beautiful souls.” Ms. Momota says with a nod. A flicker of realization crosses her expression as she adds, “Oh, soul! That’s what that word was.” She scribbles the word into its respective spot, then glances up at Shuichi. “Shu, I believe you have a beautiful soul yourself.”
Shuichi tenses a little. “I do?”
“You do,” she confirms. “I have never once doubted Kaito to find a girl who loves him like you do. Someone that can handle his spirit and his dreams and all. That boy gets lost in the stars, as I’m sure you know—he needs someone to pull him back down to Earth every now and then.”
That guilt comes back, nipping at his insides. He’s glad he ate light on breakfast, because he feels his stomach begin to churn. “Yeah,” he starts, lifting his nail to his mouth to bite at it anxiously. “He’s… everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy.”
And, well, for all his guilt is beating him up for, that’s not a lie. Maybe that’s not a terrible thing to lead with.
“Kaito’s always pushed me to be better, too,” Shuichi continues, unable to stop himself from smiling a little. “He never gives up on anyone. When we both attended Hope’s Peak, I was… kind of a total loss, but he basically dragged me out of my shell by force. I-I’m grateful for that, really.”
Ms. Momota laughs at that too. “That sure sounds like him. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
“He wasn’t. He— He never was.” Even on the days he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, Kaito always seemed to be tugging him along. Always moving, always going forwards instead of backwards. “I-I mean, maybe some people thought so… He never was too much for me. And I don’t know how much that counts for, but…”
She looks up at him, tilting her glasses downward so she can meet his eyes. She has the same amethyst sparkle in her eyes as Kaito does, maybe only slightly duller with age. “Sweetie, that counts for more than you know. I’m positive that Kaito appreciates it more than anything.”
And then she looks up and past Shuichi. “Wouldn’t you say so, dear?”
Shuichi’s heart stops in his chest, biting down on her nail a little too harshly for comfort. He slowly turns around in his seat, spotting Kaito standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining hall. He’s holding a towel in his hands, having just finished washing bowls. His face is flushed pink, amethyst eyes staring at him with a softness he hasn’t seen before.
Twenty-six hours in.
Shuichi exits the rest room, desperately needing a few minutes alone to splash his face with water. Something about it grounds him, keeping him from internally combusting at every little thing between Kaito and his grandmother.
He fakes a flush of the toilet and walks back out into the hallway, starting towards the dining room where they’re setting up for dinner.
And it's… not like he means to eavesdrop. But he lingers by the door awkwardly.
“How did you and Shu meet, Kaito?”
Ms. Momota has been doing that a lot today, prodding and all. It's definitely made the both of them regret choosing to rely on improvisation, because Shuichi isn't much of an actor and Kaito can't stick to a straight story—but they've been too far into the game to not just keep rolling with things.
(Now would maybe be a good time to walk in to help keep the story grounded and realistic, so Kaito wouldn't get too whisked away by making things up. He decides this in his head, but his legs don't move.)
“Well, uh… Where to begin,” Kaito muses aloud. “Shu and I… We—”
“Now, don't you try to make it sound more exciting than it is,” his grandmother chides, the sound of her cane hitting the floor as she kneels as the table following her words. “There is much to be appreciated in the mundane. Did you two share a class? Were you roommates?”
Kaito chuckles. “Class, yes. Roommates, no. Hope’s Peak didn’t do roommates,” he explains, “and even if they did—what kinda school pairs a girl and a boy up as roommates, Nana?”
There’s a small pause in the air. It’s long enough that Shuichi’s eyebrows furrow a little. Before it becomes too long, though, Ms. Momota sighs. “Oh, yes. My mistake.”
“Anyway,” Kaito continues, seemingly unfazed. “Shu used to be really quiet, y’know? Never spoke to anyone. There was this one annoying guy who used to bother her a lot—I remember telling you about him, Ouma—and she just kinda… took it.”
Shuichi winces at that description. Nowadays, Ouma and Kaito’s relationship has mostly mellowed out—keyword, mostly, because the former still enjoys getting on the latter’s nerves, despite all these years. Either way, Ouma’s strange antics had never been much of an annoyance. He was kind of boring, all things considered, and Ouma usually spoke to entertain himself.
“And obviously, I wasn’t gonna let her be treated like sh— badly”—he clears his throat—“so I usually stepped in.”
“I remember that kid being a handful,” Ms. Momota chimes in. “Poor girl. You better have made her feel better every time.”
“Of course I did!” He can hear the grin in Kaito’s voice. “We even started hanging out after school hours. It was me, her, and this other girl—Harumaki, you know her!—and we’d do some exercise together and stuff.”
“I sure hope those two could keep up with you.” She giggles, the sound slightly muffled by what Shuichi thinks is her taking a sip of tea. “Ah, well, that Harumaki seemed quite the athlete, even though she doesn’t play sports. Shu, however…”
“Hey, Nana, don’t discredit him!”
Shuichi thinks he’s having another mini-heart attack.
Kaito clears his throat again, “I mean, her. Don’t discredit her. She’s way stronger than she looks.”
Shuichi hears the sound of a teacup hitting the table. “Tell me more.”
“Well, when she really put her mind to it, she could outdo me in pushups. Like, it took her a while to get to that point, but she could and that’s what surprised me about her.” His voice grows a little soft as he talks about him. “She’s so cool. I don’t even think she knows that.”
The shock in Shuichi’s chest subsides, leaving in its place a dull ebbing sensation. The fire prickles at his insides again, but he doesn’t necessarily try to stamp it out as fast this time. He sits with it, the way he usually does when he gets to thinking about these feelings of his.
Maki says he’s stupid for sitting on his emotions like this. He knows she’s right, which in itself is ironic, because she’s notorious for not being good with feelings. It’s the kind of thing Kaede would tell him—and she agreed, but it came from Maki’s mouth first.
— How are you moping about a rejection that hasn’t even happened yet?
— Better yet! How are you gonna beat yourself up about a rejection that won’t happen at all!?
Back then, Shuichi brushed the both of them off. It’s not as easy as it was for Kaede and Maki to work it out. The both of them absolutely knew they liked girls, at one point or another. Kaito doesn’t like boys.
“If she doesn’t know that by now, that’s on you,” says Ms. Momota, in a voice that sounds like she’s reprimanding him. “You’re her boyfriend, aren’t you? Your pops never let me forget how beautiful I was.”
Kaito’s quiet for a few moments. It’s hard to really say that he’ll do that more, because he won’t, and Shuichi knows that. That’s not the kind of thing anyone would say to someone who’s just a friend, and especially not to someone like Shuichi. (And it’s not that he has a terrible self-esteem, but that is the truth; he isn’t exactly the kind to be “beautiful,” anyway.)
“You’re right, Nana.” He says this with an almost newfound confidence. Shuichi almost laughs at how good of an actor he is. “Shu’s one of the best girls I’ve ever met. No, no, scratch that—the best.”
“Atta-boy.”
Shuichi shakes his head. He’s definitely left Kaito alone too long to handle such a loaded question—he’ll have to make that up to him later.
He quickly walks back into the room, acting like he only now returned from the restroom. He’s just in time to see Kaito and his grandmother kneeling at the dining table, his grandmother ruffling his hair a little. (And yes, his heart does flutter at the sight.)
Thirty-nine hours in.
Kaito's grandmother is inside making dinner again.
Shuichi is outside getting some air. He has his face buried in his hands, as if that very action could hide him from reality as it is right now.
Really, he doesn’t know why he's feeling this way this time.
(No, he does. He’s aware, a bit too aware. He thinks of how Kaito turned around in his sleep last night and wrapped an arm around Shuichi’s waist and pressed his face into his back. He thinks of how he offered to wash the dishes during lunch today instead of Kaito, and how Kaito came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his person and whispered that Ms. Momota was lingering by the door. He thinks of how unnecessary that action was, but also of how he didn’t mind it happening. He thinks of how he leaned his head back, pressing into his embrace with this all-too-contented hum, water still running and all.
How natural it felt.
And more importantly, he thinks of how Ms. Momota walked a little further into the kitchen, leaning against the refrigerator. “You two are just so cute,” she cooed, and Kaito looked just a bit embarrassed when she pointed them out. He still stayed wrapped around him for a few moments, just to really sell the act.)
(Shuichi’s aunt and uncle wouldn’t be so similar, he thinks. They’re too distant to care about any dating choices that he’ll ever hypothetically make.)
He feels a wave of heat brush against his body as the door opens behind him.
“Hey, Shuichi,” says Kaito, his voice a little quieter. Shuichi doesn’t look up when he hears Kaito sit beside him on the stairs, arms resting on his knees. “You good?”
Carefully, he peels his hands away from his face. “Yeah.”
Kaito frowns. “C’mon, Shuichi.”
He swallows the lump in his throat. “No,” he admits, caving far too easily for comfort.
“Nana’s busy cooking. She practically kicked me out to prep in peace.” A dry chuckle leaves him. “So, I’m here. What’s goin’ on?”
Shuichi doesn’t really know where to begin. Maybe that’s the most embarrassing part.
“Did you know Maki got mad at me for agreeing with your idea?”
Kaito scratches the side of his neck. “Sounds like her,” he replies, then sighs. “Shit, dude. I’m real sorry.”
“She said I was being an impulsive idiot. A-And I agree. I don’t… regret doing this for you, if that’s what you think.” Shuichi forces himself to glance over at him, rubbing his eye with one hand. “Nana’s too sweet. She’s everything you said she was and more.”
“I get that a lot,” agrees Kaito.
“You shouldn’t have lied to her.”
“…I know.” He pauses, an expression of shame crossing his features. “What do ya mean you don't regret this, though?”
“The— The whole fake-dating thing,” Shuichi stammers. “I wasn't… I…”
Then, he looks away, deliberately avoiding Kaito's face.
“I’m liking it more than I should. For way too many reasons.”
He lists them off in his head, as if just thinking about them would make it apparent without having to admit such embarrassing things aloud.
For one, he didn't mind playing the part of a girl—which is ridiculous, because he doesn’t mind being a guy either, but it was nice to flip the script for a change. Secondly, this whole thing had just been an excuse for Shuichi to indulge in what it would be like to date Momota Kaito, if he weren’t such a coward to hide from his own feelings. It was risk free. There was zero chance Kaito could reject him, because this was all part of the plan to fool his grandmother.
And that takes him to three—Ms. Momota is far kinder than Shuichi was expect. He's never had someone like Kaito's grandmother in his life before. She’s warm and welcoming and he didn’t even know a parental guardian could care that much about their child’s partner.
But none of that comes out of his mouth. Instead, “I think you should tell her.”
Kaito’s eyes go wide. “But Shuichi—”
“I don’t want to lie to her anymore.” That’s a half-lie. He’s still clinging onto his three reasons, and he knows it goes away the second Kaito says that Shuichi is a guy and that they’re just friends—but then Ms. Momota’s face flashes in her mind and he feels sick that they’re misleading her like this. “I-I should— I can’t stay for another meal, I should—”
Before he can even move to get up, Kaito grabs his arm, keeping him in place. “Shuichi,” he says, with enough emphasis to cut through some of the noise in his head. “C’mon, it’s just… it’s only tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll be over after that.”
Shuichi doesn’t want to wait. If it’s going to be over anyway, why should he sit and watch the train come chugging along the tracks? Wouldn’t it be faster to meet it halfway?
But he looks Kaito in the eyes and all the words die in his throat.
“I want you here.” Kaito takes a deep breath. “Not just as my sidekick, but…”
And then he trails off.
…It’s weird, because even now, Shuichi trusts Kaito like no other. He knows this is all stupid. It’s not real and it’s stupid that he’s getting upset about it. But Kaito doesn’t make him feel stupid for the way he feels.
So they sit there for a while, the smell of his grandmother’s dinner spilling into the autumn air. Kaito still holds Shuichi. He doesn’t let go, and nothing else is said.
Forty-nine hours have passed.
“I can’t believe you’re going already,” says Ms. Momota.
Shuichi glances at the clock, noting how much time has gone by. “It all goes too fast.”
She smiles sadly at that. “That’s what happens when you get caught up in the little things.” Then she steps forward, scooping Shuichi’s hands in hers. “Oh, Shu, come back sometime, okay? Drop by unnanounced, we don’t get visitors anyway. I’m sure Kaito would love that.”
As she says that, Kaito passes the both of them, holding Shuichi’s bag. “Ready to go? Harumaki’s waiting outside.”
To which, Shuichi nods, looking at him and then back as Ms. Momota. “A-Alright.”
(He doesn’t really know if he has the guts. His grandmother doesn’t know and it kills Shuichi—but it’s not his place to say. Kaito promised him he was going to tell her the truth sometime soon.)
Shuichi follows Kaito out of the house and down the stairs, but the sharp sound of a cane catches both of their attentions.
Ms. Momota has one hand on the railing when she adds, loud enough for any neighbors to hear, “Dear, you better take care of that boy.”
Kaito’s face flushes. Shuichi manages a small smile when he replies, “I-I will!”
Her eyes aren’t on him, though. She’s staring at Kaito expectantly, and though she doesn’t say anything more, the look on her face is enough to make him straighten up.
“Me too!” he exclaims, shifting Shuichi’s bag to under one of his arms so he can pull him into a half-hug.
Then, relieved, “That’s what I like to hear. Don’t keep your friends waiting, now.”
Kaito his shoulder twice before guiding them back down the path. A few steps later, as they get closer to the car, he drops his arm and heads to the back of the car.
Shuichi notices that the car window is rolled down in the passenger seat. Of course, that means…
“So,” starts Kaede, quietly teasing already. “How’d it go? Did you finally tell him?”
“You know he didn’t,” answers Maki, rolling her eyes lightheartedly.
Kaede shoots her a look, then purses her lips to let him answer.
“Sh-She’s right,” Shuichi replies, glancing over at Kaito putting his bag in the trunk. “I didn’t wanna ruin anything.”
Though she should have expected this, Kaede groans anyway. “Well, at least you got away with this. You’ll get ‘em next time!”
“M-Maybe.” Embarrassed, Shuichi gets in the back of the car, awkwardly shifting until he’s comfortable.
Maki looks out through Kaede’s window, staring at Ms. Momota still eyeing them from the stairs. “Are you sure she didn’t suspect anything?”
Shuichi swallows dryly. “I don’t see why she would?”
“I still can’t believe you pretended to be a girl!” Kaede exclaims, earning a sharp shush from Maki. “But hey, that wasn’t terrible, right?”
And it wasn’t. But before he can answer that, there’s the sound of the trunk closing and a few seconds after, a knock at his window.
Kaito.
Shuichi quickly rolls it down, and though Kaede and Maki both look at him also, Kaito’s eyes stay locked on his. “Sidekick, I need to tell ya something. You listening?”
His heart skips a beat. “Always.”
“I… I really can’t thank ya enough,” he says, and then clears his throat. “And this weekend was great. It got me thinking—”
Suddenly, he pauses, his eyes flicking towards the two girls in front of the vehicle. His face grows warm.
“—th-that we should… hang out soon,” he continues, quickly speeding through the words. “Somewhere. Just the two of us, because there’s something else I need to say. How do you feel about next weekend?”
Shuichi can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. He’s glad he’s already sitting down.
“That— That’s—”
“He’ll be there!” interrupts Kaede, which earns a swat from Maki.
And that’s enough for Shuichi to force out the words, “S-Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
Kaito looks a little relieved at the reply. “Get home safe, sidekick!” he says, taking a step away from the car and then finally going to join his grandmother at the top of the stairs.
Shuichi rolls the windows up—and the second it does, he catches Maki staring at him in the rearview mirror. “Told you he wasn’t straight.”