Chapter Text
“Man, Serizawa looks good today too.”
“Morning.”
Serizawa Haruto walks into the classroom with his usual flat greeting, and the whole class answers him at once. If you asked ten people whether he was handsome, all ten would say yes. Actually, make that twenty out of ten. He looks as good as ever today.
Over 180 centimeters tall, with a face so well put together he looks like an idol. When you stand near him, you catch the faint scent of what smells like expensive cologne, though I have no idea what brand it is. I know nothing about fashion.
To put it simply, Serizawa is someone who lives in a different world.
I look away, as if trying to escape the glare of his presence, and open my notes app like I always do. I haven’t written anything all week. I still can’t quite grasp the uke’s feelings. This one might end up getting scrapped too…
I’m already sinking into my thoughts, struggling to figure things out and about to dive headfirst into my fantasy world, when—
“Suzuki.”
I assume he’s heading over to his usual group, but for some reason, Serizawa comes over to my desk. And for some reason, he’s now standing there looking down at me.
“…Suzuki. Hey, Suzuki. You’re supposed to be Suzuki. Get a grip.”
Seeing that I don’t react, Serizawa mutters to himself. Am I Suzuki? Right… I’m Suzuki. Suzuki Hajime.
Repeating such stupid words in my head, I hesitantly look up at my ridiculously handsome classmate.
“Ah, sorry… I was spacing out. Serizawa, did you need something?”
This is only the third time I’ve ever spoken to Serizawa, the most popular guy in our class. The first time was when we happened to run into each other by the shoe lockers and exchanged a simple “Morning.” The second was when I picked up the eraser he dropped and he said, “Thanks, Suzuki.”
With the strange tension of a commoner being spoken to by a noble, my heart is beating a little faster than usual.
“Is this yours, Suzuki?”
The moment I see the notebook he suddenly holds out in front of me, my heart starts pounding like crazy, nothing like before. Sweat breaks out all over my body.
This is bad. Very bad.
“We had an elective class yesterday, right? Didn’t you accidentally leave this in my desk?”
“…I might have.”
“Oh, good. Glad to hear it. There wasn’t a name on it, but I figured it was probably yours, so—”
“D-Did you read what’s inside?”
I cut him off, asking the question before he can even finish. Serizawa gives me a beautiful, cold smile, the kind that would probably make half the girls in our class collapse on the spot.
“I’ll be waiting in an empty classroom on the third floor during lunch.”
And with my notebook still in his hand, he walks back over to his usual group.
Lunch break. Correction: the hellish lunch break.
I’m alone in an empty classroom with Serizawa, the most popular guy in our class.
“Is this a novel?”
I answer Serizawa’s interrogation while feeling like I’m barely alive.
“…Not a novel. A plot.”
“A plot?”
“Like, the stage before you write the novel. You use the plot as a basis for writing the actual story… It’s kind of like a blueprint.”
“Huh.”
Serizawa traces the handwritten words I’ve written in my notebook with obvious interest.
“I’ll give you money, or whatever you want, so I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone…”
Thinking about the contents of the notebook, packed with my BL fantasies that I’d be embarrassed to show anyone, I plead with Serizawa, my face burning red.
“What’s with that? You kinda hurt my feelings.”
Serizawa furrows his brow slightly before adding, looking annoyed.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
“S-Sorry.”
“I feel like Suzuki has me all wrong. I like it.”
“…Huh?”
“BL. I’m a fujoshi—well, fudanshi.”
The familiar word reaches my ears, and I instinctively lean forward.
“Seriously!?”
“Yeah.”
“Y-You read BL manga, Serizawa?”
“I do, I do. I read novels too. I own some myself, and sometimes I borrow books from my older sister’s shelf.”
“Wait… which authors do you like?”
I suddenly feel a sense of familiarity with him and look up at Serizawa. He continues talking with his usual carefree expression.
“Lately, I liked Piihyara Matsuko-sensei. For novels, Ishibashi Tatakiwari-sensei.”
“I love them too! I seriously love them! I buy everything by Ishibashi Tatakiwari-sensei. I own the whole series!”
“So our tastes really are the same. The stuff Suzuki wrote here was right up my alley too.”
Serizawa says this while waving my notebook around.
He hits me with the best compliment I’ve ever heard while wearing that bright, refreshing smile, and I feel like my whole body is about to melt.
“Ah… th-thank you, th-thank you very much.”
“You’re stumbling over your words way too much.”
Serizawa laughs loudly before suddenly turning serious.
“Younger seme are great, right?”
“Y-Yeah, I get it! The more bratty the younger seme is, the better. And the more he struggles, the better!”
“Exactly.”
We high-five, slapping our right hands together, and laugh at the same time.
It feels like two delinquents who finally understood each other after beating the hell out of each other. Well, I’m not sure if that comparison makes any sense, but at the very least, I feel like some kind of bond has formed between Serizawa and me, something I can’t quite put into words.
“The plot…? The novel you’re writing from the plot in this notebook. Is it finished?”
“Not yet. Maybe sixty, seventy percent…”
“Seriously? Let me read it.”
Serizawa looks at me with an eager smile, and I quietly look away.
“But… I’ve never let anyone read it before.”
“Then I’ll be Suzuki’s ‘Reader Number One.’”
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
As I start to hesitate, Serizawa gives me a dazzling smile, as if pushing me forward.
“Give it to me. Let me be Suzuki’s ‘Reader Number One.’”
Serizawa leans in closer, and his beautiful eyes reflect my flustered expression.
“Damn, what a line…”
“Did it make your heart skip?”
“Not really… ‘Reader Number One’ feels kinda weak. ‘Give me Suzuki’s first time’ would be better. Oh, and write ‘first time’ in katakana.”
“Wait, that’s dirty. As expected of Suzuki-sensei.”
“…Stop calling me sensei.”
I confess to the laughing Serizawa, feeling terribly guilty.
“Actually, I’ve never finished a novel all the way to the end.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Yeah… I usually come down with this thing I call ‘Is This Even Fucking Interesting? Disease’ and drop the story halfway through…”
I honestly tell him about my biggest problem, and Serizawa narrows his sharp eyes with amusement.
“Now I want to read your BL novel even more.”
“…Ugh, but…”
“Are you gonna give me Suzuki’s ‘first time’? Are you gonna give it to me? Which is it? Muscle Roulette, start!”
The joke is so unlike the handsome Serizawa that I snort, then completely lose it and laugh for a while.
“Wow, you liked that more than I expected. Anyway, give me Suzuki’s first time.”
As Serizawa laughs, his expression somehow looks softer than usual.
“…If you’re okay with mine, I’ll give it to you.”
At this point, I’m throwing caution to the wind. Besides, I really have always wanted someone to read my work someday.
Serizawa quietly starts reading the notes app on the phone I hand him. Having Serizawa read my writing feels completely reckless. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
I’m done for. My heart is about to come out of my mouth.
Serizawa reads the whole thing in no time, with an almost shocking level of concentration, then mutters blankly,
“…It ends right when I’m dying to know what happens next.”
“Seriously!? You really think it’s readable? Like, is it actually a proper novel? Do you like the uke? Aren’t the side characters too generic!?”
Serizawa answers every annoying author question without looking bothered even once.
“It’s definitely a proper novel. I really like the uke. He’s cute. And the side characters add a lot to the story.”
My opinion of Serizawa shoots through the roof.
What an amazing reader…
“Write the rest. Now.”
“R-Right now…?”
“Yeah. Now. Now.”
I’m so excited to have someone read my work for the first time, and even more excited because my first reader is Serizawa.
“Actually, I think I might be able to write the rest… now.”
With my phone back in my hands, I hurriedly type out the fantasies filling my head. The uke’s emotions, which had been stuck for an entire week, suddenly start moving again.
I rush to get the words in my head onto the screen. Serizawa watches the words I type beside him and starts getting impatient.
“I can’t see. Suzuki, come over here. I’ll be able to see the screen from here.”
The spot he points to is between his legs.
“Hurry.”
“…Uh, but isn’t this kind of weird?”
“Why? It’s not weird.”
Unable to resist Serizawa’s pressure, I sit down between his legs. Whether he knows I’m getting overwhelmed by thoughts like how long Serizawa’s legs are, how good he smells, and how embarrassing it is having his face so close to mine, Serizawa leans in and whispers beside my ear.
“Suzuki, are you uncomfortable?”
“…No, but…”
Serizawa pulls me closer so I won’t fall from the chair and says,
“Now then, Suzuki-sensei. Please continue for your Reader Number One.”
“…Yes.”
Right. I have to meet the demands of my first-ever reader.
Serizawa’s arm wrapped around my stomach. His handsome face resting beside my shoulder. His mint-scented breath. The feeling of being held tightly by someone other than my parents for the first time.
I’m going to ignore all of that…
Ignore it…
“Serizawa! Here’s the lunch you asked for—wait, what are you two doing?”
Just as I hear noisy footsteps approaching, three guys from our class’s popular crowd, Saeki, Iwasaki, and Takeuchi, stare at us with slightly stunned expressions.
One after another, they mutter,
“It’s Suzuki.”
“He’s been captured by Serizawa.”
“Were you two always this close?”
Saeki is the one wearing an innocent, carefree smile. Iwasaki has an arm around his shoulder, laughing as he teases us. Takeuchi looks suspiciously at the whole situation. All three are tall, and of course, their looks are leagues above mine.
“We’re getting to know each other better.”
Serizawa whispers beside my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
“…Isn’t this more like Serizawa getting to know Suzuki?”
Takeuchi’s question is exactly what I’m wondering too.
“No way. Right, Suzuki? Come on, isn’t that right? Say it is.”
“The way you’re saying it already makes this one-sided.”
Saeki bursts out laughing and takes a seat nearby. Iwasaki and Takeuchi follow him.
“Whatever. Can we eat?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.”
Using his thick judo-club arms, Iwasaki tears open the bag of prepared bread. Saeki, who is busy bragging about his girlfriend making his homemade lunch, starts eating his bento, while Takeuchi digs into a fried chicken bento from the school cafeteria.
It’s a peaceful lunch break.
For everyone except me.
“Hey, Serizawa.”
I’m finally back to my senses, while Serizawa is still sitting way too close.
“Hmm?”
“I think I’ll eat too. I-I need to go buy something.”
I try to escape Serizawa’s arm, but it doesn’t budge.
How is he this strong?
“It’s fine. We bought some for Suzuki too.”
“We did, right?”
Takeuchi points this out, and Serizawa gives him a sheepish grin.
“Well, I’m the one who paid, so I think I should make that clear.”
“Look at him, acting all important over something everyone knows. Classic Serizawa.”
Ignoring whatever character Saeki has decided to play today, Serizawa takes the plastic bag from Takeuchi with the hand he isn’t using to hold me.
I lift myself slightly, thinking I might be able to escape now, but instead he pulls me closer, bringing our already nonexistent distance even closer.
At this point, we’re basically one person.
“Suzuki, which one do you want?”
“Then… the mentaiko rice ball.”
“I’ll have a sandwich. Suzuki, you want my tuna mayo? I can’t eat onions. They’re too spicy.”
Apparently, despite his flashy appearance, Serizawa has the taste buds of a little kid.
“I’ll feed Suzuki, so keep writing.”
“What kind of situation is this?”
“This is way too surreal.”
Serizawa carefully wraps the seaweed around my rice ball and holds it up to my mouth. At this point, I feel like arguing is pointless, so I take a bite.
“Good?”
“It’s good… but seriously, isn’t this weird?”
“I told you, it’s not weird.”
I chew the rice ball while gripping my phone tightly.
I don’t know.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here.
“What kind of labor is Suzuki being forced to perform?”
“Is this one of those blackmail situations?”
“Nope. It’s a secret between Suzuki and me.”
“If you don’t like it, seriously say so, okay? This guy is a selfish little brat.”
“Suzuki-sensei is concentrating. Don’t talk to him.”
There’s no way I can ignore my Reader Number One when he keeps pestering me to continue. So I write my novel while munching on the rice balls he keeps bringing to my mouth.
Honestly, this might not be such a bad system.
“Feeding Suzuki like this reminds me of something. Something…”
“What?”
“You know, feeding rabbits at a farm.”
He must mean the school trip we went on when we were freshmen. Last year, Serizawa and the others were in a different class from me.
I wanted to feed the rabbits too, but for some reason, when it was finally my turn, the rabbit wouldn’t even look at me.
“You were feeding that rabbit way too much, going ‘Cute, cute’ the whole time, Serizawa.”
So this was your fault, Serizawa.
“The rabbit was cute even after it got full.”
“…I don’t know why, but you’re giving me slight yandere vibes.”
“Huh? I’m a devoted seme.”
I start coughing at Serizawa’s words, and Saeki looks at me with a puzzled expression.
“What’s a seme?”
“Nothing. Just something we were talking about.”
“…It’s BL, isn’t it? Serizawa’s a fudanshi.”
Apparently, Serizawa being a fudanshi isn’t anything new.
I look at each of their ridiculously handsome faces in turn, staring in admiration with a quiet “Whoa…”
“Hey. Stop looking around.”
Serizawa snaps me back to reality.
“Your hand stopped. Write.”
“…Yeah, yeah.”
“And eat properly too. Suzuki, you’re way too skinny.”
Serizawa’s hand slides lightly over my ribs. My body jerks slightly at the touch, and only then do I realize the obvious truth.
There’s no way I’m getting any writing done like this.