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Every day is an opportunity for Budo Masuta to be the best that he can be. Physically, mentally, emotionally, whatever other adjectives end in “-ally.”
Usually, he remains disciplined and self-controlled. Routine daily schedule, pretty good grades (if he could say so himself), making a conscious effort to do something nice for at least one person. He doesn’t overcommit, but he also tries to help where he can. He can lead. He, unlike most of his friends, can confidently say that he’s pretty focused!
Usually, he doesn’t occupy himself with girls. He respects them, of course he does! But making it his whole life—again, like most of his friends do—is just plain irresponsible.
So when he unfortunately had to come to terms with his painful crush on Ayano Aishi, it was like the world was going to end.
At first it was just noticing from afar. She’s pretty introverted—the few people at Akademi who noticed her knew that. But at times, it was like she intentionally avoided interactions. Was she scared? Anxious? Insecure?
Then, he interacted with her for the first time. It wasn’t anything serious. She had dropped something—like a pen or something, he honestly couldn’t remember—and he grabbed it for her. A quick and very monotone “thank you” was her response, and then she walked away.
She was pretty. In Budo’s opinion, there’s no such thing as an ugly girl or a girl who isn’t pretty. But that being said, he can recognize when other girls are different.
Ayano had this vibe to her. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was, but he liked it. Once she walked off, he had just brushed it off as another occurrence of seeing someone cool in the hallways. There’s nothing wrong with recognizing when someone is cool.
But then they had their first proper conversation a few days later. He doesn’t remember the exact circumstances around it all, either, nor does he really remember what they were talking about, but he does remember the way she carried herself. Ayano was disciplined and practical, easily a lot more than he is. She never spoke more than she needed to, and she said everything that she needed to say without having to lie. What was the thing Shakespeare said again…? Brevity is the soul of wit?
Budo especially appreciated her bluntness. He was so used to everyone blindly praising him.
Maybe “praising” is too dramatic of a word, but he can’t really think of any other way to describe it. He’s nice to everyone because he wants to be, but sometimes, he can’t help but feel like people are nice to him for their own personal reasons. Ayano isn’t like that at all. In fact, she’s kind of mean. And he kind of likes it.
So okay, he likes her. He, like, really likes her. But he refuses to let a little crush control his life. It’ll come to pass eventually, and sooner or later, he’ll stop thinking about her instead of getting his chores done.
In spite of his personal declarations, he found himself still trying to get to know her. The only problem is she made that very difficult. Every question was met with flat “no’s” and “not really’s,” every invitation was met with a hard “no,” and any other chit-chat was ignored. To be honest, he was a little worried she hated him. But if she really hated me, she wouldn’t keep me around, right?
But his hardwork paid off!
Akademi’s student council had put together a dance to commemorate the third years. He had a couple of third year friends, so they were his motivation to go. He didn’t really have anyone he wanted to take to the dance (Aishi would’ve killed me if I asked, she probably won’t even go), and none of the other girls really seemed to be interested in asking him. In all honesty, it bruised his ego a little bit. But then again, in all honesty, he probably needs the humbling.
I’ll just push past this and enjoy myself.
So it was decided! He would go with his friend group and have a good time. When does he not have a good time with his friends? The answer to that question is never. He loves his friends, cherishes them deeply. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t be the man he is today. But he’s got to admit—seeing some of them with dates stung a bit.
…Dance! He’s got to dance. Physical activity always takes him out of funks like these.
There was a floor in the center of the gym, and he recognized a few of the faces he saw within the congregation of dancers. Midori Gurin—who also happened to be Ayano’s best(?) friend—was there, dancing with a first year girl whose name he can’t remember. Osana Najimi was there, too, and he had to stop himself from throwing up on the spot. She’s a nice girl, but she always weirded him out. Especially because of—
He can’t think about that right now. About her. He won’t, because then he’ll start feeling even weirder than before. A few of his friends join him, so he hyperfocuses on them until the weird pit in his stomach refills itself. The room feels a lot warmer now. Like uncomfortably warm.
Gotta take this jacket off, then I’ll get water.
There were drink tables by the walls, and they all had the same thing, pretty much—a punch bowl, water bottles, juice boxes. Though, most of them seemed pretty empty. There’s one in the back, along the left wall closest to the stage, that seems to still have water bottles on it. Guess that’s where he’s going, once he rests his suit jacket on the back of his chair.
Hey, is that…?
“Aishi!”
No, that’s definitely her. He’d recognize that death-glare anywhere. Seems like he might’ve interrupted her brooding session.
He’s surprised she’s here. From the few (very short) conversations they've had, he assumed she wasn’t the kind of girl to go to parties...or anything for that matter. But here she stands against the wall nonethless, punch in hand, wearing a pink gown like a princess right out of a fairytale—dark hair flowing down her shoulders, complexion snow white. The colored lights reflect onto her skin; Budo finds her the prettiest when the lights turn yellow. She looks like a statue made of gold: grand and shiny and something to be marveled at.
He needs to play it cool, though, otherwise she’ll totally walk away. What did he come here for again?
“Masuta,” She responds. “What do you want?”
Oh, water. Right. I came here for water.
It can wait a bit.
“You look pretty tonight,” He chooses to answer, striding towards her. “You came alone?”
“Yes. Who else could I have gone with?”
It’s a silly question (she could’ve gone with anyone she wanted to), but the lack of enthusiasm in her voice leads Budo to believe she’s being one-hundred percent serious. Is she…self-conscious?
“I dunno,” He shrugs. “A lot of people would’ve loved to go with you.” No lies told.
“Right.” She doesn’t believe him. She doesn’t believe him, and it breaks his heart a little. He shakes off the cloud of despair beginning to form in his head.
Ooh, hang on, he recognizes this song—which provides a bit of relief. It always plays at stores or in the gym. Should he ask to dance with her? No, that’s too forward. He doesn’t wanna make her uncomfortable. Maybe he’ll just ask if—
“You like this song?” Yeah, that’s safe enough. It’s popular.
“No.”
Oh.
“Yeah,” He says, trying to mask his surprise. “It’s overplayed anyways.”
And like magic, the sound of the song fades away in his ears. For all he knew, it’s probably getting louder and louder. There are tons of kids on the dance floor, and they’re probably getting more excited by the moment. He doesn’t care about that right now: the real party’s right in front of him, shutting down all his attempts of conversation.
“Are you here alone too, Masuta?”
…Or starting them? That’s out of character. Ayano’s not usually the one to initiate chitchat. Her question, though, suddenly makes him hyperaware of himself. He sucks his teeth.
“For tonight, yeah…no one wanted to go with little old me.” He punctuates his sentence with a laugh. He’s alright. He’s alright, he promises.
“You don’t have to joke about it,” Deadpan, brutal honesty. “If you’re upset about it, you’re allowed to be upset about it.”
Jeez. It’s like she knows everything.
“I never said I was upset. I just said no one wanted to go with me,” He crosses his arms, a method of keeping his heart in his chest before it spills out all over the floor. “Don’t like parties?”
“Not at all.”
“Why’d you come?”
She blinks, and he watches as her grip on her punch cup tightens. “Gurin made me.”
He smiles. It’s kind of sweet, knowing that she had another person to encourage her. He doesn’t know Midori too well, but he knows that she’s energetic. Not that Ayano really needs to change, but it’d do her some good to have a little sunshine in her life. She always seems so annoyed.
He registers the song switching. He recognizes this one too, slightly slower than the last, with corny lyrics he doesn’t really care to memorize. Despite it all, despite him knowing that it’d be overstepping, he finds himself asking her—
“Do you wanna dance with me?”
It was impulsive—not like he wouldn’t want to dance with her, but the question being asked at that time was a lack of self-control.
“What?”
I screwed up.
Either she’s surprised, or she didn’t hear him. He asks again—
“I said, do you wanna dance with me?”
Ayano practically freezes in place once he asks her again, and he can see it. He wants to ask if he did anything wrong. He probably did, right? Nothing ever seems to catch Ayano off guard like that. Especially not him. Right as he opens his mouth to apologize, she says:
“I don’t dance.” Plainly.
“Uh,” He says, trying to recollect all his confidence. “Well, you’re in luck, because this song is really easy to dance to.” His feet shuffle just a bit closer to her, outstretching his hand as an offering. “So! May I?”
He holds his hand out for what feels like years.
Please say yes.
He wants to know what’s going on in her head. He wants to know what she’s thinking right now, he wants to be able to read every microexpression on her blank face and understand the different intonations that give away what she’s really trying to say, despite how monotone she sounds to others. He wonders if Midori is like that, and subsequently envies how close she is to the girl.
You’d expect him to be significantly less cowardly than he actually is, but he can’t help but retreat into the safe sanctuary that is his own mind, dancing around the hardest of conversations and the toughest of situations until they deal with themselves. But he can’t screw things up with Ayano like he did then. Ayano has to know at some point. She deserves to.
Not definitely now, and probably not tonight. But at some point.
Please say yes.
This is his only chance.
“Fine.”
Instinctively, he grins. His face hurts from smiling so hard, but he can’t help himself. “Actually?”
Taking his hand in her own, she says, “Don’t make me regret it.”