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“No. No way. Not happening.”
“Uenoyamaaaa,” Itaya whined, “It’s not so bad, just look at us!”
Uenoyama stood there, arms crossed over his chest. In the cold bathroom lighting, he stared at his best friends in their uniform skirts and shook his head.
“Yeah, definitely not helping!”
Itaya stretched out a bag to Uenoyama. “You have to!”
Uenoyama just looked at the paper bag full of clothes with equal parts disgust and concern. “Where did this even come from?!”
“Lost and found. And the wig is from the drama club. It’s all clean.” Ueki said, indifferent as ever. Itaya was practically vibrating. Uenoyama felt singled out as the only one with a problem.
He sighed, his stubborn shoulders slumping with it. He still had so many questions. And he didn’t even like these school festivals.
“Look, Uecchi,” Itaya started. He sported a smug grin and smacked a stern hand to Uenoyama’s shoulder. “You missed the meeting, so you don’t get a choice.”
Yeah. He regretted that right now.
“Fine,” he grumbled, brushing the hand on his shoulder away and snatching the bag of clothing, “at least I can’t look as stupid as you.”
Itaya gasped, purposely dramatic and girlish. Uenoyama rolled his eyes.
“That’s no way to treat a lady Uecchi! You’ll never get a girlfriend acting like that!”
“Good thing you’re not a lady!” Uenoyama hurled back. His friend’s innocent joke about finding a girlfriend scraped against his skin like sandpaper. But he couldn’t expect him to know that, or why he shut the stall door harder than he meant to.
He heard a muffled SMACK on the other side of the door.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Leave him alone, Itaya, or I won’t save you when he kicks your ass.”
Uenoyama couldn’t help but chuckle, though the dread came back as he stared at the bag.
He traded his black pants and jacket and button down for the girl’s uniform and tucked his own clothes away neatly. He struggled with the skirt’s ridiculous button and zipper combo, and the new button down was just too-tight enough to be awkward, though not near as bothersome as the breeze between his thighs.
The wig was the last thing in the bag. It was strangely coarse, almost straw like, with a weird netted material inside. It took a few tries, and a few times of flipping the thing upside down and inside out before he felt like it was on right. He adhered the tiny clips inside it to his own hair the best he could. It already felt scratchy.
Itaya’s voice floated through the stall door. “Say, Uecchi, we’re gonna go to the music club’s show at 1, wanna come?”
What Uenoyama would like to do is stay in this stall all day. But he didn’t want to hear Itaya tell him he’s ‘no fun’ and he should ‘enjoy his youth,’ so what came out instead was an unenthusiastic, “Yeah. Sure.”
There was one other thing that urged him out of this room—he hadn’t seen Mafuyu yet.
Well…he saw the photo he’d sent, attached to today’s good morning text. Uenoyama audibly choked on the train when he opened it, and it earned him a judgy look from some lady sitting nearby. He took his phone out just to see it again.
It was a selfie, one Mafuyu’d taken in his tall mirror at home. He was in a suit, tie, and gloves, and his hair was neatly styled in a way Uenoyama hadn’t seen before. He thought it was a shame that the phone covered his face. Oh, and of course Tama was there, just an excited white blur by Mafuyu’s feet.
“Uenoyama, you ready? We’re about to head back.”
Uenoyama shoved his phone away, heart jumping to his throat like he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Yeah! I’ll uh, meet you guys there.”
His friends uttered an affirmative, and then continued their back and forth banter about the intimate logistics of sharing the same lip gloss. When their voices faded out, Uenoyama finally left the safety of the stall.
In the mirror, he looked about as ridiculous as he felt, with his tired scowl and uneven hair and the buttons of his shirt hanging on for dear life. Not much to be done about his face, he figured, but the rest wasn’t as noticeable when he threw on the blazer and tied a terribly crooked bow with the thin red ribbon from the bag. He fixed the wig until it sat more centered, and he gave a strong tug to the sideseams of the skirt, finding it not near long enough.
Pants. He definitely preferred his pants.
~
The hallway was even more chaotic than earlier—brightly lit, cluttered with chalkboard signs and flashy handmade decorations, and students scrambling back and forth. Classroom doors were covered in colorful ‘welcome in’ greetings and vibrant posters. He yawned; it was too early for all this excitement. Scents of both savory and sweet slipped by and made his stomach growl. He’d run too late this morning for a proper breakfast.
“Uenoyama-kun?” From behind, the familiar sound of his name fluttered in his chest like it always did. He turned around without thinking much about it, and sure enough, there Mafuyu stood, his brown eyes wide and sparkly like his outfit and wow he’s so cute.
That picture he’d sent didn’t do the real thing justice in the slightest. Uenoyama’s knees threatened to give out. Not to mention the way Mafuyu looked him up and down reminded him of how he looked right now. He found it much easier to stare at the box under Mafuyu's arm instead.
“H-hey,” he said. Mafuyu giggled.
“Good morning.” A smile crinkled the corner of his lips. “I thought that was you.”
Uenoyama scoffed, his hands fidgeting with his clothes again. “How’d you guess?”
“I just knew.”
“Oh.”
“You look cute.”
Mafuyu’d called him ‘cute’ before, usually to tease him, but it hadn’t gotten any easier to respond to. Surely it was the sun blaring through the windows that made him feel warm all of a sudden.
“You–”
“Hold this for a sec.” Mafuyu shoved the package into Uenoyama’s arms, and before he knew it, was untying the red ribbon under his collar and retying it again. He was too close, or maybe not close enough? And he smelled good, and his hair looked nice, and Uenoyama liked that he could see his face better, but, for some reason, he was frozen, unable to bring himself to say or do anything.
The moment came and went, and Mafuyu snatched the box back and smiled. His lips parted to speak again, but was interrupted by a trio of girls rushing up behind him–
“Sato-kun!!!” they squealed.
“Your hair! Did you style it yourself?” one asked.
Another grabbed Mafuyu’s empty hand and rubbed the velvety-looking fabric on his glove. “Where did you get these? So soft!”
“You look so cute!”
It was a blur; Uenoyama simply observing while Mafuyu was bombarded by girls he didn’t know—girls who didn’t even seem to notice him standing there. And he was even more shocked at how not-completely-uncomfortable Mafuyu was as they rapid-fired their questions at him without letting him answer. Something sticky and stifling brewed in his stomach.
“C’mon, we gotta get to the classroom!” One of them grabbed Mafuyu’s sleeve, and off they went.
“Sorry, Uenoyama-kun! I’ll see you later!”
Uenoyama tried shoving his hands into his pockets—a nervous habit of his—just to find there were none. Not today.
Distracted, he bumped a few shoulders and accidentally kicked a folded sign on the floor when he rounded the corner. He muttered an apology to no one as he put it back where he assumed it came from. His classroom loomed ahead, surely promising a less-than-zero chance of a nap.
Oh, how he wished it were a normal day—to be facedown at his desk, reliant on the morning bell to wake him up. Instead, looking into his classroom, his desk was god-knows-where and today’s bell was ignored, eclipsed by the scraping of metal across wood and chattering of classmates: sweeping and cleaning, decorating and rearranging, and shouting across the length of the room at each other.
Even the signs outside the door, with giant, colorful letters that read ‘yakisoba!!!’ felt too excited.
“Uenoyama-kun?” As soon as he stepped inside, Uenoyama whipped his head towards the sound of a friendly, feminine voice. She, not so subtly, looked him up and down.
“Don’t say it.”
Kasai threw a hand up in defence. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” In her other hand—a strand of paper chains in bright red and blue and yellow. “I was actually going to ask for your help, you mind?”
“Sure. I mean, no.” She looked at him, eyebrows raised. “No, I don’t mind, I mean.”
Uenoyama cringed at himself. Was it too late to go home?
“Thanks. We just have to hang these here,” she pointed at the doorframe, “and you’re taller than me.”
Without saying much else, Kasai got right to it. She handed him one side of the strand, along with a small piece of tape, and told him where it needed to go. Uenoyama followed her directions easily as she handed him one at a time; and honestly, it was a welcome distraction.
With all that had happened, all before 9 o’clock, Uenoyama wasn’t sure about the rest of the day. He would get through this morning—but then what?
There was the concert, which would probably just be some awful, generic J-pop covers, but at least his friends were going. But what were Mafuyu’s plans? He hadn’t managed to ask before he was dragged away by those girls.
Maybe they could check out the food stalls. There would be cotton candy, probably. Or crepes. Mafuyu liked both. He was a mess with crepes, though, and would probably get whipped cream all over his nice clothes, so maybe not.
Uenoyama’d never seen Mafuyu so, well…
He also wondered if Mafuyu styled his hair himself. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to touch Mafuyu’s hand out in the open like that girl had. He would’ve liked to kiss him in the hallway, too. He’d found himself wanting to do that a lot lately—at school, in the studio, on the train when it’s busy and probably no one would notice. Not that they didn’t kiss sometimes, but it was usually on rare occasions when they could be alone alone, and he didn’t know when that would be again, because they’d been so busy recently, and—
“Uenoyama-kun?” Uenoyama flinched at the hand suddenly waving in front of his face.
“Geez, you zoned out pretty bad.” Kasai retracted her hand. “You okay?”
He blinked a few times. “My bad. Just tired.”
She sighed. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re usually napping already.”
“Right...”
“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?”
Had she said something before now? “Uh, no, I don’t think so. Sorry.”
“It’s alright, it wasn’t anything important. I just saw Sato-kun in the hallway…”
Uenoyama’s attention, which had been aimlessly floating around, latched onto her mention of Mafuyu. She glanced into the hallway at no one, at least not that he could see.
“...I’ve never seen him with so many girls around him. You’ve got some competition, huh?”
She giggled under her breath when she said it, and that nasty feeling resurfaced under his ribcage. He clicked his tongue.
“How would I know, he can do whatever he wants…” Uenoyama looked at the floor, suddenly annoyed and confused. What did she mean by that? Did she know? Should he just… ask?
“Sorry! Um…” her outburst made him turn. She muttered nervously next to him, not willing to look him in the eye. His heart rate spiked at every word she said. “I just thought, y’know, that you guys were, I mean, like…”
Like what?? Uenoyama’s face burned—he couldn’t keep up with everything that was happening today.
“W-what?”
“UENOYAMAAAA!”
Itaya flung his arms around Uenoyama’s neck from behind, nearly knocking them both over. Once he found stable footing, Uenoyama silently thanked his friend for his timing.
“Oi! Get off me!”
“The class rep wants us for a final meeting.” Ueki pointed his thumb toward the crowd congregating at the front of the classroom.
Uenoyama glanced at the clock in the same direction—they had about 10 minutes before the festival started, and they’d have students and visitors alike stopping by.
“Let’s go then, girls!” Itaya shouted, his fist held high in the air.
“Not in my ear, jackass!” Uenoyama felt a little bad for yelling—his friend had kind of saved his ass from a potentially terrible situation. And, speaking of, that was a new problem.
He didn’t have much choice but to deal with it later.
~
The morning flew by.
Uenoyama had not only been busy as hell—greeting visitors, taking vouchers, cleaning, and other random tasks that felt like his convenience store job on overdrive—but he’d even gotten an unexpected (and unwelcome) visit from Haruki and his friend/sister’s new boyfriend? Whatever. They’d gawked at him like a zoo animal in the class next door, photos included, but at least he’d gotten to see Mafuyu again…
Granted, he’d only stuck around long enough to say hello, and to ask Haruki to take a photo of them before he left. Uenoyama had no interest in seeing said photo, but didn’t mind watching Mafuyu smile at his phone for those brief moments of silence before Itaya popped in to show off, getting them both a scolding from Ueki.
Uenoyama wanted to ask Mafuyu what his plans were for the afternoon. But he’d hardly gotten a word out before those same girls from this morning stole him away again. Something about going to class 2-7’s haunted house, which he definitely didn’t want to do, but still.
He went back to his classroom, unsuccessful again.
When his duties were done, Uenoyama slumped down at the closest desk he could find and laid his head down. The cool wood felt good on his face, and the wig helped block out the light; he’d stopped noticing how scratchy it was awhile ago, and now, he was a bit grateful for it. He could’ve fallen asleep, had he been left alone for more than thirty seconds.
“Hey, no naps! We have to go check out the festival!” Itaya poked all over Uenoyama’s limp body.
“Sleepy…”
“C’mon! The concert starts soon! Or are you going to waste away in here all day?”
Though the idea of sitting here until the bell rang didn’t sound half bad, Uenoyama knew he wasn’t actually allowed to pick that option.
Was he really just tired, though? There was this… feeling lingering around him all day that didn’t sit right. He wanted to blame it all on this ridiculous outfit, and the embarrassment that came with it. That was still there, made slightly worse by Haruki and Yatake’s surprise visit, but it wasn’t the source.
He was irritated, but at who? Itaya always poked and prodded his nerves like this, so that couldn’t be it. Kasai? He wasn’t mad at her, though that situation definitely threw him off and still had him on edge. So, was it Mafuyu, then?
He thought about this morning, and their brief meeting in the hallway. Then the even more brief time in Mafuyu’s classroom. He glanced at the clock without making his movements too obvious. About 12:45, it read—about the time he and Mafuyu would be having lunch in the stairwell, guitars in hand.
Not today. Today, he was off with those girls. The ones that didn’t even acknowledge his existence. The ones that said all the things he wanted to say to Mafuyu, but couldn’t.
Ah. So that was it. He chewed at the inside of his cheek.
“Aha! He’s alive!” Itaya joked when Uenoyama shot up from his seat.
“Shut up. Let’s go.”
~
Outside, the afternoon sun was bright and blinding to blue eyes that were just nearly asleep. It reflected off bright white signs and food stalls and the crisp air smelled much like the hallways, like fried foods and spicy curry and something powerfully sweet like… caramel?
He was too full of yakisoba to find it appetizing.
“Uecchi, c’mon! The music club is about to start!” Itaya tugged at his arm, and he followed.
A small crowd had formed along the outdoor stage and in the rows of seats. Uenoyama didn’t often find himself on this side, and turned down Itaya’s enthusiastic idea to get closer. He’d be able to see better from the edges, he’d claimed.
What he wanted to ‘see better’ was not the stage, but the audience. He scanned it as the crowd grew, not finding the reddish-orange hair he was looking for. He waited, tapping his foot in time with a song he hadn’t realized had started.
One or two more songs played. The band wasn’t that bad, really. The guitar was a little too loud, and the bass not loud enough, but he wasn’t here to critique the music club. He leaned over to Ueki and had to yell to make sure he heard him.
“I’m going to go back to the classroom.”
Ueki just gave him a nod.
And so he took off—weaving through adults and students and kids alike, passing by stalls, festival-like games and club tables he didn’t even know they had. He stopped at one booth for something that caught his eye.
He fished out a few coins and paid for it, stuffing it in his blazer pocket. Then he took off again.
He checked around the lockers. He ran upstairs and poked his head into each classroom he passed, and nothing. Even Mafuyu’s classroom was still empty. He was starting to wonder if he was even still here.
Across the hall, some girls giggled at their phones.
Duh.
With a new idea in his head, he barged into his classroom, grateful it was empty. He marched over to his bag and fished out his phone.
Nothing. Nothing important, at least. Just a text from his sister bugging him about dinner. Oh, and a photo from Mafuyu that he sent earlier, of Hiiragi and Shizusumi of all things. The last thing he wanted to think about right now.
He started to type–
Where…are…y–
“Uenoyama-kun?”
His head whipped around, instinctively turning the phone off. It was Kasai, and she was alone. His stomach flipped.
“Uh, hey,” he forced out, “I was just grabbing my phone.” He wasn’t sure why he gave her an explanation. She wasn’t his mom.
“Funny,” she smiled, a little forced, “me too.”
As she walked away from the door, he made his way towards it, fast.
“Wait.”
Dammit.
“What’s up?” This moment felt too familiar.
“I just—I’m sorry about earlier,” she laughed, stiff. “I’m always saying weird things and making you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to.”
She looked sincere. And embarrassed. She wasn’t wrong about him being uncomfortable, but was that really all her fault?
Uenoyama wasn’t sure what came over him, then. Desperation, or guilt, maybe. He sighed.
“Listen,” he said, eyes on the doorway, “I’m looking for Mafuy–ehm Sato, actually. Have you seen him?”
She perked up, he noticed out of the corner of his eye. Then she hummed, as if thinking hard about his question.
“I think I saw him outside the gym. He might’ve been going to the drama club’s performance? It’s probably over now, though.”
He thanked her. She nodded back with a smile.
His run to the gym passed in a blur. Inside, drama club students in costumes were cleaning up props and chairs. Unfortunately, no Mafuyu.
So he went to the last place he could think of, and climbed the sunny stairs. He sat down at the top, the floor warm on his legs, and deleted his unsent text, changing it to two simple words instead.
Our spot.
Send.
He laid back on the floor and sighed, catching his breath with an arm thrown over his eyes. So much had happened today. He wanted to tell Mafuyu about his class event. How mediocre the concert was. He squeezed his blazer pocket and the soft trinket inside that he’d bought on a whim.
He just wanted to see him.
His eyelids were heavy.
~
Warm.
That was the first thing Uenoyama thought when he regained consciousness.
“You awake, Uenoyama-kun?” The sweet voice was like a blanket, gently draped over his ears like whatever he felt laid over his legs right now. Maybe he was dreaming. But a very real finger poked at his cheek, and he grumbled. “Uenoyama-kun. It’s time to wake up.”
He startled, sitting up quickly. Mafuyu smiled fondly at him. Uenoyama’s cheeks felt hot, realizing he’d been asleep in Mafuyu’s lap, with Mafuyu’s jacket across his bare legs.
“Sorry… how long was I out?”
“I dunno. You were asleep when I got here. So, maybe… twenty minutes?”
Uenoyama rubbed his eyes and yawned. He plopped back down onto Mafuyu’s lap, which must’ve surprised him, based on the little noise he made.
Now that Mafuyu was here, not only were all those pesky feelings back, but they were boiling over.
“Where are all your new friends?”
“Hm?”
“I looked all over for you today, y’know,” he grumbled. He was being, well, girlish, and he knew it. Mafuyu swept a long piece of hair behind his ear. His hand was warm.
“I can’t hear you…”
Uenoyama chewed his lip. He thought of how those girls this morning said everything so easily, pouring out compliments and flattery like it was second nature—not something that made Uenoyama clam up in moments like these, and say anything but what he really meant.
He shot up again, catching surprised brown eyes. “I think you look cute, too!”
Mafuyu’s head cocked to the side. “Too?”
“You know! Like those girls were saying…” Uenoyama looked away, leaning his back against the wall and finding a scuff on the floor to stare at. His heart pounded in his chest.
“Girls…” Mafuyu repeated, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh.” Mafuyu looked at him with an almost devious realization.
Uenoyama’s tongue was suddenly cement in his mouth.
“Don’t worry. I don’t like girls, Uenoyama-kun.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had a feeling, but hearing Mafuyu say it did make him feel better. Almost an embarrassing amount, actually.
“Well, there is one. Maybe.”
Uenoyama whipped his head towards Mafuyu, who was staring up at the ceiling. He eyed Uenoyama with a side-glance and the tiniest upturn on his lips.
“Aren’t you going to ask me who?”
Silence. Mafuyu took his hand and threaded their fingers together on the hard stairwell floor. Then he scooched himself closer so that their shoulders squished together. God, he smelled good.
“She’s got dark hair. And she’s tall. Oh! And believe it or not, she plays guitar!”
Uenoyama curled up, pulling his knees in close and feeling a tingling blush spread across his cheeks. Mafuyu squeezed his hand.
“And her hand is kinda sweaty right now.”
Uenoyama turned his head shyly, resting one cheek to his knee. “You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe.” Mafuyu’s eyes crinkled with a kind smile Uenoyama wasn’t sure he deserved right now. “But I finally got you to look at me.”
Uenoyama grumbled, and Mafuyu giggled at him, leaving Uenoyama dumbstruck and breathless.
With a dramatic sigh, Uenoyama rested his head on Mafuyu’s shoulder and squeezed his hand. He finally had his boyfriend all to himself, and he didn’t care about anything besides making it last a few moments longer.
They sat there until the bell rang, talking about their respective days, but Uenoyama mostly just listened. He loved listening to him. He really felt so stupid for how he acted today.
“Hey, Mafuyu?”
“Hm?”
“I uh—” Uenoyama reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the tiny keychain he’d been hiding away this whole time. “I got you this.”
He placed the thing in Mafuyu’s lap. It was a fuzzy white ball dangling from a key ring that looked weirdly like Tama. And with it, a few yellow star charms hung that had oddly reminded Uenoyama of that look Mafuyu got in his eyes sometimes. Mafuyu held it up, staring at it, and him, right now, with that same exact look. It made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s so cute. Thank you.”
Uenoyama’s pointless feelings of jealousy and agitation seemed to melt away in the late afternoon sun, catching the highlights of Mafuyu’s styled auburn hair and his pink lips turned up into a genuine smile. One day, he’ll learn to just tell the boy when he misses him.
“Should we head back, Uenoyama-kun?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t want to, but they should. “I need to change. I don’t ever want to wear a skirt again.”
Mafuyu audibly pouted. “Aw. But it looks so good on you.”
“Shut up. Weirdo.”