Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Okuto, you lazy ass! Get down here before I come up there and force you!” The voice of the Nakamura household’s youngest child could be heard throughout the house, and perhaps even the entire neighborhood, as Kana shouted from downstairs for the umpteenth time that morning. 

Despite the volume somewhat being muffled by the wooden floor separating them, her voice was clear and sharp as day. Yet Nakamura made no move to get out of bed. 

The high school boy was buried underneath his duvet and curled into a small ball in the corner of his bed, nothing of him visible but a small tuff of messy, black bangs peeking out from beneath the covers. Nakamura was dead to the world, or he might as well have been. Hiding under his blankets, surrounded by nothing but the still darkness of his room and the faint sound of water gurgling from Icchan’s water tank. 

Apart from the octopus moving about inside its tank, tentacles sticking to the glass as if it knew the saddened state of its owner and wanted to comfort him, Nakamura’s bedroom was deprived of any movement or life. It was as if time itself had momentarily been frozen because of the young boy’s broken heart. Even the birds outside didn’t sing come sunrise, like they too felt the haunting amounts of grief radiating from the sad pile of blankets inside. 

Nakamura didn’t know whether he should be grateful for the silence or annoyed that he apparently was so miserable even the birds pitied him. In fact, Nakamura didn’t know what to think at all since he found out Hirose, the undeniable one and only true love of his life, had a girlfriend. 

This time it wasn’t like any of the misunderstandings where Nakamura has falsely assumed a relationship between Hirose and someone else. Neither was it just a one-sided crush like so many girls had on Hirose, but Hirose was thankfully too oblivious to take notice of. No, this was a full blown mutual agreement between Hirose and some other freshman girl to date each other. A real relationship. One that had supposedly been going on for a whole week without Nakamura noticing. 

Just the thought of it brought unpleasant images to Nakamura’s mind, and made the boy shiver under the blankets. Hirose and his new girlfriend holding hands under a starry night sky, pointing out their favorite constellations to each other. Hirose casting Nakamura aside like common gutter trash to walk with his girl to school every day. Hirose and his girlfriend hugging each other or god forbid kissing on the lips—

Nakamura whimpered pathetically into his pillow, still moist with tears and snot from last night. He could picture it perfectly. Hirose puckering his pretty pink lips and leaning down to meet another’s mouth in a sugar-sweet kiss. Quick and a touch so gentle it was barely there—yet nonetheless meaningful, because Hirose was probably the type to be shy about his first kiss like that. All flustered and red with blush afterwards.

Hirose’s first kiss. 

An even louder whimper resonated from Nakamura’s room, so loud not even his pillow could entirely mute the sound of the boy’s frustration. He curled his hands into balled fists and slammed them down on the mattress, beyond pissed at the realization somebody other than him would get the chance of stealing Hirose’s first ever kiss. 

But his fight was half-hearted at best, and soon enough his angry punches weakened until Nakamura was practically just lifting his fists up and down from the mattress. He couldn’t make his aggravation last long, not after he’d let most of his despair out for all his neighbors to hear the previous night. 

Nakamura was exhausted, but that was kind of a given considering the night he’s had. 

He’d spent the entirety of it bawling his eyes out until his pillow sheet was soaked with proof of his grief and his eyes were so dry it was physically impossible for him to shed any more tears. His voice too had gone through the wringer after all that loud crying. Nakamura hadn’t attempted at speaking today since waking up, however he didn’t have to test it to know his voice was messed up. The boy’s throat were all sore and felt itchy in that distinctively uncomfortable way whenever he swallowed. Like he was coming up with a cold. 

Although the reason for his sore throat was not any medical condition, Nakamura was aware. This kind of illness could no amount of medicine or doctor visits ever fix. It was Heartbreak. 

Nakamura had never experienced it before and had sort of always assumed they exaggerated it in the movies. But now that he was a victim of the sheer grievance that came with getting your heart broken, he realized the film producers were actually downplaying just how painful it truly was. 

And nobody had described either the utter emptiness that came afterwards. Like someone had opened Nakamura’s chest and shoveled all of his internal organs out until he was reduced to nothing but an empty husk of what he once was. A zombie, that was what he now was. 

Something felt like it was… missing. Or rather said, it felt like something inside of him had been lost. Something that couldn’t be returned. Maybe it was a canon event for everyone. Their first heartbreak where they lost that childish innocence only those who’d never experienced the cruel sting of love possessed. 

<Man, I should become a poet with all these philosophical phrases I’m coming up with,> Nakamura thought absentmindedly as he shuffled under the covers, cheek pressed against his tear-stained pillow. As out of place as the thought was, it helped the boy slip a tiny bit out of his depressed state. If only a little.

He should probably get up, he realized and made a move to squirm out from the comfortable warmth of his blankets, albeit reluctantly. It was a tediously slow process that took way more effort than it should’ve. But Nakamura knew it had to be done. His sister had yelled at him this morning likely more than any other day and he knew it was only a matter of time before she actually followed her word and barged into Nakamura’s room to drag her brother out of it. 

She’d done it before and Nakamura knew better by now to underestimate his younger sister when she was angry.

Technically, it was the weekend so he was allowed to sleep in, but even by a teenage boy’s standards Nakamura was stretching it. Lunch time had passed long ago and he still hadn’t made a single move to leave his room—or even his bed for that matter.

The only reason Nakamura imagined he had been allowed to stay cooped up in his room for that long was because his mom was out with her friends and wasn’t home to know about her son’s inactivity the entire day. However, Nakamura knew that it was realistically only a matter of time before Kana got so upset with him that she called their mom if he didn’t start moving soon. The snitch that she was. 

So extremely reluctantly, Nakamura sat up—his sheets pooling around his waist as he did. The boy blinked disoriented in the dark space and looked around, octopus pajamas rumbled and his hair sticking up in the oddest angles. Nakamura was, to put it mildly, a mess. He didn’t even have to look in the mirror to guess that. He could feel the dark eyebags forming under his eyes and knew instantly he also looked like the zombie he felt like.  

While gazing around his room, Nakamura’s tired eyes fell upon Icchan’s tank and his internal systems all came to an abrupt halt. Then, without warning, his whole body shot out of bed immediately. 

He hadn’t fed Icchan! 

The reminder managed to bring the boy out of his daze in an instant as Nakamura hurried over to his pet, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his scramble. He knew Icchan was judging him when he went to fish out its food from the small freezer stationed in the cabinet underneath the water tank. Icchan’s big green eyes were staring condemning holes into its owner’s soul as the octopus watched Nakamura fumble to open the bag of frozen shrimp that would be its meal for today. 

“S-sorry Icchan!” Nakamura quickly fed the octopus with an apologetic expression on his face and he could tell that if Icchan had the ability to speak human language, he would be getting chewed out right now. 

To think he almost starved Icchan because he’d let himself get consumed in his own stupid feelings. Nakamura’s fingers tightened around the cold bag of frozen shrimps while he watched Icchan eat his fill, unable to suppress the painful sting of guilt that bubbled up within him. 

He was such an idiot for reacting like this, he couldn’t help but think in that moment. He’d let himself wallow in his own self pity while knowing full well that Hirose finding someone else to love was as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning. 

Nakamura had known from the start there was no chance of him getting with Hirose. They were both guys for one and Hirose clearly wasn’t a disappointing homosexual like Nakamura was. Unlike him, Hirose was normal and dating a girl. Nakamura had been a fool to have once thought otherwise just because Hirose didn’t talk as much about girls like his friends did. He shouldn’t have assumed he stood a chance. Hirose was perfect, of course he didn’t talk brashly about girls. He was a considerate and gentlemanly guy like that. 

Secondly, they were both omegas. A truth that was perhaps worse than the fact they were both boys. For it meant he and Hirose were basically doomed from the get-go to never be together. 

Two omegas couldn’t date each other, everyone knew that. Or they could—but it was extremely looked down upon by society, even more so than being in same-sex relationships were shamed. Sure, if it was a male and a female omega it was a whole other case and were more likely to be accepted by society. But two omegas of the same gender? That was the same as asking to be treated like an outcast by everyone around you. People in that kind of relationship were prime targets for discrimination and bullying everywhere they went. 

Nakamura knew so from school, where the teachers as early as middle school had told them about the mistreatment of these kind of couples between same first and secondary-genders. They’d always encourage the kids to be accepting and not mistreat others for their sexual preferences, but you would be an idiot not to know that was all just a front the adults were forced to put on for the sake of their reputation.

Everyone liked to act open-minded and such, but when it came down to it—most people still believed in the traditional idea of the ideal household consisting of couples between male and female, alphas and omegas. 

If only Nakamura was a girl. If only he was an alpha. Then he and Hirose could—

“I swear to god, if you don’t get down here I swear I’m coming up there!” 

Another yell from downstairs shook Nakamura out of his spiraling thoughts, bringing him back to reality with the power of his sister’s shrilly, commanding voice. 

Nakamura blinked a few times in confusion before he sighed in a way that could only be described as deep-suffering. “Alright, alright…” he mumbled tiredly, his voice raspy and mouth dry. “…jeez.” 

Not even bothering to freshen up or fix his disheveled appearance, Nakamura trudged across his room and opened the door. His eyes, red-rimmed and crusty with sleep, blinked dazedly at the sudden bright light from the hallway windows. 

He’d momentarily forgotten how dark his room was after staying cooped up inside for so long. 

Rubbing his eyes with exhausting written visibly across his face, Nakamura made his way down the stairs. Each step took way more energy than normally out of him and by the time Nakamura was standing by the bottom of the staircase, he felt like he’d actually ran a marathon and he had use all of his willpower to not slump over and crash face-first into the wooden floorboards. 

His legs ached from that bike run he had taken yesterday in the heat of the moment, his thigh and calf muscles throbbing with overuse. Nakamura looked solemnly down at his legs and seriously came to regret biking up a whole mountain. Seriously, what had he been thinking? 

“Finally!” 

Nakamura looked up to see his younger sister’s head peeking out from the kitchen. Her face was furrowed into that irritated grimace that it so often was whenever she looked at him. However this time, something about it changed when she took a good look at her brother’s appearance. 

With her eyebrows scrunched together she asked, “what happened to you?” Not even bothering to hide the judgmental and signature teenage girl look in her eyes as she gave her brother a withering once-over. 

“Err..” Nakamura opened his mouth to answer, but his voice cracked halfway through and it immediately clamped back down. This of course only made Kana stare even harder. 

Then, as if she decided that she didn’t care enough to prod further about the matter, Kana shrugged and her head disappeared in the doorway. “Come eat something. We’re leaving in thirty!” She yelled with her usual snark, making Nakamura relax the tension in his shoulders. 

For a second there he’d been afraid she might ask what happened yesterday. But his fear had thankfully been for nothing. This might be one of the few times Nakamura was grateful for his sister and her prickly, uncaring attitude towards him. Nakamura didn’t think he could handle any of his family worrying about him now. He was pretty sure he didn’t have any tears left in him, however the whole situation felt so delicate he was scared he would start bawling his eyes out anyway if anybody dared ask him what was wrong. 

Taking in a steadying breath, Nakamura followed his sister into the kitchen. He didn’t bother asking where they were going or why. Kana had the tendency to haul her brother off to wherever she wanted at random, and Nakamura had learned to live with it. If he didn’t go their mom would undoubtedly scold him for not hanging out with his sister and ‘bonding’ with her like a good brother would, so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Even if he for obvious reasons really didn’t feel like going right now. 

Kana seemed to realize as much while she watched him pour himself a bowl of cereal with milk from the corner of her eyes. She was chewing on a bag of chips by the counter, eyeing her brother suspiciously in a way that made the hairs on his neck stand in alarm. Kana paying more attention than a cursory glance his way was defiantly reason to worry for. 

Although it rarely happened these days, he never liked when his sister stared at him like that. As if she was analyzing his every move and expression. 

“You were pretty loud last night…” she started off with, Kana’s arms crossed over her chest. “Mom was worried, but I just guessed you were watching one of your melodramatic BL dramas again.” Her voice was casual when she spoke, light as if talking about something mundane like the weather. Yet the subtle slanting of her eyes told Nakamura that she was definitely onto him. 

She knew something was wrong.

Nakamura wanted to open his mouth to protest. To deny her suspicions. However… he knew there was no way he could fool Kana. He was a terrible liar and they both knew it. Anything he could say would just worsen his situation further. 

Looking away, Nakamura poked uselessly at the cereal with his spoon. He chewed deliberately slowly, just to drag the conversation out even though he knew it wouldn’t help him in the slightest. “Can we not talk about that right now?” He said eventually. His voice was small. Smaller than he intended it to come out. 

Kana narrowed her eyes even more at his response, mouth flattening into a straight line. For a moment Nakamura feared she would call him out on his weak attempt at deflection. However, against all predictions, she kept her mouth shut. Instead of prodding like Nakamura had somewhat expected, his sister just went back to munching on her chips and he immediately felt an immense sense of relief wash over him.

<Thank god!> he cheered inwardly as he continued eating his breakfast.

The silence lasted for less than a minute.

“Get dressed,” Kana suddenly ordered, pointing a potato chip at him as though it were some sort of weapon. Her tone left little room for argument and the look she gave him suggested she was already preparing herself to physically drag him out the front door if necessary.

Nakamura stared at her from across the kitchen table. “Why?” he asked flatly, sounding as enthusiastic as a man being informed of his execution date.

“Because we’re going out.”

“I don’t want to,” he protested uselessly, already knowing his fate was sealed but trying to escape it anyway. Couldn’t a boy be allowed to sulk for one day?

“I wasn’t asking,” Kana bluntly retorted with an eye roll.

Nakamura let out a long, suffering groan and dropped his forehead onto the table with a dull thunk. “Kana, please,” he mumbled into the wood. “I’m literally dying.”

“Exactly.” Kana shoved another chip into her mouth before crossing her arms. “You look half-dead. Go put on real clothes and get some fresh air before you start decomposing in the living room.”

For a brief second, Nakamura thought he caught something resembling concern hidden beneath her usual irritated expression. The moment was gone almost immediately however, buried beneath her trademark scowl and impatience.

Not that he intended to point it out.

An hour later, Nakamura found himself wandering through a crowded market despite having no memory whatsoever of agreeing to this.

Kana seemed oddly determined to keep him moving throughout the market. Every time Nakamura slowed down too much or began drifting toward the nearest bench to sit and wallow in peace, she would somehow appear beside him and shove him in another direction. He was beginning to suspect this entire trip had been orchestrated solely to prevent him from crawling back into bed. The realization should’ve annoyed him more than it did, however Nakamura simply didn’t have the energy. Maintaining a grudge sounded exhausting.

The market itself was admittedly impressive. Rows of colorful stalls stretched along the streets, vendors loudly advertising their goods while crowds of people shuffled from stand to stand carrying bags full of purchases. The scent of grilled meat and sweet pastries hung in the air, mingling together with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Under normal circumstances Nakamura would’ve enjoyed looking around. Today, however, he felt like a ghost haunting the marketplace rather than an actual participant in it.

His mood wasn’t helped by the fact that couples seemed to be everywhere.

Nakamura spotted one pair sharing a drink with two straws and immediately looked away. Then he saw another couple holding hands while walking through the crowd. By the time he noticed a third pair standing in front of a jewelry stand while the boyfriend awkwardly tried to help his girlfriend try on a bracelet, Nakamura was beginning to suspect the universe had personally arranged this outing for the sole purpose of tormenting him.

<This is targeted harassment,> he thought bitterly while shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. <There’s no other explanation.>

Kana suddenly came to a halt in front of him.

Nakamura nearly walked straight into her and stumbled to a stop at the last second. His sister didn’t seem to notice his near collision whatsoever, her attention fixed on something nearby. With narrowed eyes she pointed toward a wooden post standing between two stalls.

“Look.”

Nakamura wasn’t particularly interested in looking at anything. Still, following her finger required less effort than arguing, so he reluctantly turned his head. A large purple poster had been nailed to the post, decorated with stars, moons, and enough glitter to blind an unsuspecting pedestrian.

TRAVELING FORTUNE TELLER!

READ YOUR FUTURE!

REMOVE CURSES!

BREAK HEXES!

He was more than ready to move on and get their outing finished as soon as possible so he could go back to suffering in his room, however something at the bottom of the poster caught his attention unwillingly. Nakamura had already begun looking away when his gaze snagged on the final line.

CURE BROKEN HEARTS!

The boy froze. Kana immediately noticed.

A slow grin spread across her face. “Oh?”

Nakamura sent a pointed look her way. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” His sister shrugged innocently.

“You were about to,” he snapped back with a frown.

Kana’s grin only widened.

Nakamura scowled and looked back at the poster. Beneath the large text was another message written in dramatically curved letters.

A REAL WITCH FROM THE NORTHERN MOUNTAINS.

His eyebrow twitched. “A witch?” he repeated skeptically.

Kana shrugged. “Sounds fake.”

“It is fake.”

“Probably.”

They both continued staring at the poster. Then Nakamura looked toward the direction it pointed. Kana also looked toward the direction it pointed. Slowly, both siblings turned toward one another. Identical obsidian eyes met each other, a silent conversation passing between them without a single word spoken. 

“…”

“…”

“You want to go,” Kana accused.

“I don’t,” Nakamura replied sharply, gaze still staring at the direction the poster was pointing at against his will.

His sister smirked knowingly. “You absolutely do.”

Nakamura wanted to deny it. Unfortunately, the words cure broken hearts had already planted themselves inside his brain and refused to leave. He knew it was ridiculous. He knew it was almost certainly some scam designed to prey on sad and gullible people. Yet the tiny, desperate part of his mind that had spent the entire night crying into a pillow was willing to entertain almost anything if it meant making the pain stop.

Five minutes later, Nakamura found himself standing outside a surprisingly convincing fortune teller’s tent.

The structure sat near the edge of the marketplace, draped in dark purple cloth and decorated with dangling charms that chimed softly whenever the wind blew. A small sign stood outside the entrance.

ONE CUSTOMER AT A TIME.

Kana immediately folded her arms across her chest. “Well?” she asked.

Nakamura stared at the tent. Then he stared at the sign. Then he stared at the tent again. “If I get murdered in there,” he said finally, “tell Mom I loved her.”

Kana snorted. “Sure. I’ll tell Icchan too.”

Satisfied with that arrangement, Nakamura pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.

The interior was darker than expected.

Candles flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across shelves cluttered with jars, dried herbs, and strange trinkets. The entire place smelled faintly of incense and old books. Sitting behind a circular table was an elderly woman wearing enough jewelry to stock an entire accessory store.

The moment she saw him, her expression changed.

“Oh dear.”

Nakamura paused.

The woman leaned forward slightly, studying him with surprising concern. “My child,” she said. “You look absolutely miserable.”

Nakamura sat down. “Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” The old woman sounded genuinely offended that he had mistaken it for one. Somehow, despite everything, Nakamura found himself snorting weakly at the response.

The witch’s expression softened. “Heartbreak?” she asked.

Nakamura immediately stiffened. His eyes widened while the woman calmly reached for a teacup beside her. The casual accuracy of her guess caught him completely off guard.

“How did you know?”

The witch took a sip. “You have the face of someone whose beloved has just been stolen away by fate.”

“…” He didn’t know what to say to that. Despite the unnecessary poetic wording of it, Nakamura found that the old lady’s guess was uncomfortably accurate. Did he really look that miserable?

The witch lowered the cup. “And you’re standing in a tent advertising heartbreak removal,” she added bluntly.

Nakamura blinked at that before nodding awkwardly. “…Right.”

The old woman gestured for him to continue.

At first Nakamura only intended to give the bare minimum explanation. However once he started talking, the words came easier than expected. He kept everything intentionally vague, never mentioning Hirose’s name or even his gender nor secondary one, but the basic situation remained obvious enough. By the time he finished speaking, the witch was nodding sympathetically.

“I see,” she said. “A classic case.”

Nakamura narrowed his eyes. “A classic case?”

“First love,” she explained with a mysterious glint in her dark eyes. Nakamura immediately looked away. He was sure it was just a trick of the light—the light from the candles reflecting in the fortune teller’s eyes, yet it still made him squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

The witch smiled knowingly, watching the boy before her squirm with barely concealed amusement written on her wrinkly features. “Oh yes. Definitely first love.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the tent. Eventually the woman folded her hands together atop the table.

“I can help.” It wasn’t an offer or a theory. It was a statement, firm and resolute like the old lady had been genuinely fooled by her own scams about all that magic nonsense. 

Nakamura blinked. He didn’t believe in any of this, but he felt it would only be polite to ask. “You can?”

“Of course!” The fortune teller smiled sweetly. 

“With magic?” Nakamura added skeptically.

“Naturally.”

Nakamura’s hopeful expression fell and turned into a deadpan.

The boy stared at her.

The woman stared back.

Several seconds passed. 

Then Nakamura sighed. “This sounds like a scam.”

The witch gasped so dramatically Nakamura almost felt bad. “A scam? Me?” She placed a wrinkly hand on her chest with a theatrical flair that vaguely reminded Nakamura of that weird, drama club boy from school. 

“Yes,” he said dryly. 

The old lady gasped once more and Nakamura knew for sure that she was just exaggerating by now. “I am a respected practitioner of the mystical arts!” 

“You’re sitting in a tent.” The boy looked around. Although tall the decorations looked legitimate at first glance, he was pretty sure he could catch a glimpse of a prize tag on one of the skulls placed around him.

The woman narrowed her eyes. Nakamura narrowed his eyes right back. He’d never been a believer of the superstitious and he himself didn’t understand the reason he was sitting in this tent. It obviously wouldn’t work, yet he still found himself with a weak hope within him that it would. 

For several moments neither party seemed willing to surrender.

Then the witch sighed heavily. “Fine. Fifty percent discount.”

Nakamura hesitated. “…Half off?”

“Half off.”

His suspicion immediately weakened.

The witch smiled triumphantly.

Several minutes later Nakamura found himself seated inside a chalk circle while candles flickered around him. Despite the elaborate setup, he remained unconvinced. The old woman certainly looked the part, but that didn’t mean she could actually perform magic. More likely she was about to wave her hands around dramatically before sending him home fifty percent poorer.

The witch raised a wooden staff decorated with ribbons. Her playful demeanor disappeared completely.

The sudden seriousness in her expression was enough to make Nakamura sit up straighter.

Then without prior warning, she began to chant.

“Bleeding heart and foolish dream,
 Fade away like mist and steam.

Take the ache and take the fear,
 Leave no trace of either here.

Freeze the rivers, still the sea,
 Lock away what used to be.

Let no arrow find its mark,
 Let no spark survive the dark.

Build of ice a castle wall,
 High enough to stop them all.

Only when the true one comes,
 Only when true love blooms,

May the gates be opened wide—
 Until then, let winter hide.”

The final words echoed through the tent.

For several moments nothing happened.

The candles continued flickering. The tent remained standing. Nakamura remained seated. There were no flashes of light, no dramatic bursts of energy, and no mysterious sensation coursing through his body.

The witch lowered her staff. “There,” she said with a strange seriousness in her voice, despite nothing having changed at all. 

<She’s really trying to seek this, huh?>

Nakamura stared.

The witch smiled.

Nakamura continued staring.

“…That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” the old lady replied. 

He frowned. “You just scammed me.”

The witch frowned right back. “I did not.”

“You absolutely did,” he huffed with a sigh. He knew he shouldn’t have expected anything out of the witch, especially not after she willingly gave him a 50% discount. 

In answer, the woman rolled her eyes so hard Nakamura was briefly concerned they might get stuck.

“Think about your crush.” Her order was so abrupt and out of nowhere it startled the boy. 

Nakamura frowned even harder. “What?”

“Think about them,” she insisted. 

Still unconvinced, Nakamura did as instructed. Immediately Hirose appeared in his thoughts. His bright smile. His laugh. His light brown hair. The sight of him walking through the school halls. The memory of learning he had a girlfriend. The memory of crying himself to sleep.

The heartbreak.

The longing.

The desperate ache in his chest.

Nakamura waited for the familiar pain to return.

It didn’t.

His expression slowly changed. The annoyance vanished first, replaced by confusion. Then confusion gave way to something closer to disbelief as he searched desperately for any trace of the emotions that had consumed him only hours ago.

There was nothing.

Not sadness.

Not longing.

Not jealousy.

Not even affection.

The memories remained perfectly intact, yet the feelings attached to them had vanished completely. Thinking about Hirose now felt strangely similar to remembering a classmate from years ago. Someone familiar, yet emotionally distant.

Like a stranger.

“Oh.” The word escaped before Nakamura realized he’d spoken aloud.

Across from him, the witch smiled. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

Nakamura barely heard her.

Slowly he reached up and pressed a hand against his chest. The horrible ache that had hollowed him out from the inside was simply gone. In its place was a strange stillness unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

Without another word, Nakamura pulled out his wallet and paid the woman. The witch accepted the money with a pleased smile.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

Nakamura nodded absentmindedly. Then he stood up and stumbled toward the exit.

His movements felt strangely disconnected, as though his body was operating several seconds ahead of his brain. By the time he pushed through the curtain and stepped back into the sunlight, he still hadn’t fully processed what had happened.

Kana immediately looked up from where she’d been waiting outside.

Her eyes narrowed at the way her brother clumsily walked towards her, obviously noticing his weirdly dazed expression. “What happened to you?”

Nakamura stared blankly ahead.

For the first time in years, he thought about Hirose.

And felt absolutely nothing.

“K-Kana…” he managed to stammer out, forcing his throat to obey. “You shouldn’t go in there.” 

His sister’s face twisted in confusion and annoyance instantly. Clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. And how could she? 

“Hah?” She titled her head sideways, one hand placed on her hip. “I’ve been waiting for like twenty minutes out here!” The girl hissed in mild outrage. 

Still, Nakamura shook his head firmly. Whatever had happened in there, it was unnatural. And despite Kana being a little shit of a younger sister, Nakamura still needed to protect her. He didn’t know how, but that old lady had actually done real magic. Kana couldn’t be exposed to that. 

“It’s a scam, okay?” The lie sounded wrong on his tongue, but for once in his life—Nakamura didn’t immediately fold like usual when he told a lie. His face remained perfectly calm as he spoke and Kana, knowing how much of a bad liar her big brother was, fell for it.

She groaned heavily, clicking her tongue in annoyance as well. “Seriously? How much money did she make you pay?” 

Nakamura quickly turned around and began walking, wanting to get as far away from that tent as quickly as possible. “Not much. Let’s just go,” he replied quickly, hoping he didn’t sound too suspicious. 

“Fine. There’s another booth I wanted to check out anyway,” Kana’s voice sounded from behind him, joined by her footsteps following close behind. 

Nakamura made it through the rest of the market in a daze.

Kana had spent most of the walk home occasionally glancing at him with increasing suspicion while Nakamura stumbled along beside her like someone whose soul had temporarily left his body. Several times she had asked if he was okay (If he hadn’t been so out of it, Nakamura might have marveled at the rarity of his sister actually being concerned about him). Several times he had answered with some variation of “I think so.”

The problem was that he genuinely didn’t know.

At first he’d assumed the feeling would wear off. Surely it had to. No matter what that old woman had done inside the tent, there was no way she had actually erased months of pinning with a few candles and a weird chant. Nakamura had fully expected the emotions to come rushing back after a few minutes.

Then after an hour.

Then after the trip home.

Yet even now, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom with the door firmly shut behind him, he still felt absolutely nothing.

Nakamura stared at his reflection. His reflection stared back.

“You like Hirose.” The words sounded strange coming out of his own mouth. Almost foreign.

Nakamura frowned.

He knew the statement was true.

Objectively speaking, he had spent months crushing on Hirose, ever since he started high school. He had hidden behind walls to watch him. He had memorized his schedule and interests like an avid fanboy. He made a fool out of himself every time Hirose was in close proximity of him because of how in love he was with the boy. He had haunting dark circles under his eyes from the night he had spent bawling his eyes out because of Hirose. The evidence was overwhelming.

And yet…

Nothing.

No butterflies. No embarrassment. No warmth. No longing. It was like reading facts from a textbook. Like Nakamura was an outsider reviewing an old film that was in reality his own life, but for some reason it didn’t feel like it. 

Still, Nakamura tried again. This time a little firmer, as if he could make his feelings for Hirose return by speaking with more conviction. “Hirose is cute.”

Nothing.

“Hirose has the most beautiful smile ever.”

Nothing.

“Hirose is dating someone else.”

Still nothing.

Nakamura’s stomach dropped.

“Oh no.” His eyes widened. “Oh no!”

Suddenly he rushed toward his desk and yanked open a drawer. Papers scattered everywhere as he searched through the clutter with increasing desperation until he finally found what he was looking for.

A photograph.

The picture had been taken during a school trip to Yokohama months ago. The one with Nakamura and Hirose standing close while posing for the camera with smiles on their faces. Naturally, Nakamura had treasured it like his most prized possession.

Hands trembling, he stared down at the photo.

This was Hirose. His Hirose. The person he’d loved for years. The person he’d cried over yesterday. The person he’d been willing to spend the rest of his life pining after if necessary.

Nakamura waited.

Nothing happened.

The silence inside his chest felt deafening.

His fingers tightened around the photograph.

“What the hell?” The question came out louder than intended. Panic began creeping into his voice. “What the hell is happening?”

He looked back and forth between the photograph and the mirror as if one of them might provide answers. Neither did.

Nakamura sat heavily on the edge of his bed. Then immediately stood up again. Then sat back down. Then stood. His brain felt like it was trying to run in circles.

This wasn’t normal. None of this was normal. People didn’t just wake up one day and stop loving someone.

Especially not after months.

Especially not overnight.

Especially not because some old woman in a tent waved a stick around and offered a fifty percent discount.

“There’s no way.” Nakamura began pacing. His hands moved wildly as he talked to himself. “There’s literally no way.”

The more he thought about it, the worse it became. Because if the feelings were gone…

Then where had they gone? Love didn’t just disappear. That wasn’t how emotions worked. People got over crushes gradually. Slowly. Painfully. Over months, maybe years if the crush was especially intense like Nakamura’s feelings for Hirose definitely were (Was?).

People didn’t get over such a huge crush in a single afternoon.

Nakamura grabbed both sides of his head, eyes widened with horror as his breaths came out in trembling puffs. “Oh my god.” A horrible realization struck him.

His eyes widened even further, air catching in his throat. “What if I have brain damage?”

The room fell silent. Nakamura stared ahead. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it sounded. He had ridden his bike up a mountain yesterday. He had cried for hours. He hadn’t eaten nor drank properly. Maybe he was starving or dehydrated. Maybe he’d hit his head without noticing. Maybe this entire day had been one long concussion-induced hallucination.

Nakamura immediately rushed toward his desk and opened his laptop. His fingers flew across the keyboard.

Symptoms of brain damage.

He paused. Then typed again.

Can you stop loving someone suddenly?

Pause.

Am I going insane quiz.

Pause.

How to know if a witch cursed you.

The search bar sat there.

Nakamura slowly lowered his hands.

“…”

He closed the laptop.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to see the answers to that last one.

Groaning loudly, he stood up from his desk chair and flopped backward onto his bed, covering his face with both hands. His mind replayed everything that had happened inside the tent over and over again. The candles. The chanting. The witch’s smile.

The smile.

Nakamura suddenly sat upright.

The smile.

That stupid old woman had smiled like she knew exactly what would happen. Not the smile of a scam artist. Nor the smile of somebody faking it. The smile of somebody who already knew she was right.

A chill ran down his spine.

“There’s no way she’s actually a witch.” The words sounded significantly less convincing than they should have.

Nakamura swallowed. Then looked over at Icchan’s aquarium.

The octopus was pressed against the glass, staring at him with its usual unsettling intelligence. For several seconds, owner and pet simply stared at one another.

Finally Nakamura pointed accusingly. “Icchan.”

The octopus remained silent.

“I think a witch removed my ability to love.”

Icchan continued staring.

Nakamura stared back.

“…”

The octopus slowly drifted away. The betrayal hit harder than expected.

Even Icchan thought he sounded crazy.

Nakamura groaned and collapsed face-first into his pillow. The familiar scent of detergent filled his nose while his brain continued spiraling toward catastrophe.

Maybe he had gone insane. Maybe the witch had cursed him. Maybe this was all a dream. Or maybe—

His thoughts halted.

Slowly, Nakamura lifted his head. Because underneath all the panic and confusion, he had just realized something.

The heartbreak was gone.

Completely gone.

No matter how many times he thought about Hirose, the unbearable ache never returned.

No tears came. No sadness. No jealousy.

Nothing.

The realization left him staring blankly at the wall. For the first time since learning about Hirose’s girlfriend, he wasn’t suffering.

The thought should’ve comforted him. Instead it somehow made him even more terrified. Because if the witch truly had taken away his feelings for Hirose…

Then what else had she taken?

Nakamura suddenly remembered the final words of the chant.

Until the true one comes, only when true love blooms…

A knot formed in his stomach.

“…Who is the true one?”

The question hung unanswered in the darkness of his room.

Outside, evening slowly settled over the neighborhood.

Inside, Nakamura lay awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling with increasingly wide eyes as the horrifying possibility finally settled into his mind.

The witch might not have been a scammer after all.