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Hirose learned at a young age that you can’t force yourself to matter. If someone just doesn’t care about you, they’ll keep not caring until you are too tired to care about them.
It was a random lesson he learned in primary school. He was close friends with a boy he could no longer remember the name of. Even though they were in a group together, all laughing and slapping each other’s backs and chasing each other around an open schoolyard with dust clouding around their feet, Hirose was focused on that one boy. He was just a bit more attentive, offering him a hand when he scraped a knee during a game of tag, and little Hirose held onto that moment, assuming it meant something. He fixated on him - the way his laugh sounded like a hiccup and the way his knuckles were a dried scarlet hue, the skin rubbed thin. Hirose ran after his friend, following him with bright eyes until the sunlight from the boy’s eyes burned holes in Hirose’s vision, the heat of him causing Hirose’s skin to glisten, strands of hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.
The tenor of his voice, boisterous and radiant, was inviting, and Hirose was certain it was addressed to him. When he chased the boy around a dusty playground, clouds kicked up under their feet, he was certain the boy wanted him to follow.
And then little Hirose wasn’t invited to the boy’s birthday party.
Hirose was upset. He talked with the boy at the end of the school day, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he shouted at him, wondering why he wasn’t invited. Why he didn’t even know the boy’s birthday. And Hirose was hoping that, at the very least, the boy would get defensive. Maybe he would start shouting back or shove him, his face contorting into some mix of anger and regret, reflecting that Hirose’s words sank into his skin and stained his blood.
But the boy didn’t do any of that. Instead, he tilted his head and gave a light shrug, saying that he forgot.
He forgot Hirose. And he didn’t have a shred of remorse about it. He walked past Hirose, who stood stock still. He dragged his feet as he returned to his mom at the end of the day, her tall form leaning down to ask him how his school day was. It was only once they got inside the house - an arduous journey back home as he stared at his two feet shuffling along the pavement - that he clung to his mother’s leg and cried about the boy who forgot him.
He remembered the way his mom knelt, her nimble, soft fingers running through his hair. His sobs ebbed away until he was sniffling and lifting his head to see a soft, sorrowful look on his mom’s face. It was the one where he knew she was going to tell him something he wouldn’t like.
Aiki-chan, I’m sorry, but…sometimes, people forget and move on from us. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. It’s just what happens. Just remember that he still cares about you so much, and if you care about him too, you have to let him go. He has to exist outside of you.
Hirose remembered his face scrunching up, struggling to swallow those vile words. He didn’t want to agree to them. Even if they were true, even if he was wrong for it, he wanted to grasp onto the boy’s arm, keeping the boy with him no matter what. He pictured it, his fingers locked onto the boy’s flesh until it paled under his pinching hold.
It wasn’t right. His mom said so. He nodded in response to her words, and she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
When the boy tried to talk to him the next day, reaching out to him, Hirose ran away.
____
By high school, he didn’t think about the boy.
He had new friends. He got along well enough with Takeuchi, Mukai, and Oomori. Takeuchi bantered with him a lot, sometimes to a point where it frayed his nerves a little, but he was a good guy. He certainly made conversations lively, and he helped Hirose to stay a bit more on trend and in the moment - even if it was more in a chiding “why do you like that” way rather than a kinder, gentler way. Mukai was milder, clicking with him in their calmer demeanor. Hirose never really fully knew what was going on in his mind, but he knew Mukai wouldn’t pry into his mind either. They had too much mutual respect for that. And Oomori was great. They had known each other for quite a bit, and Hirose had a lot of fun knowing what interactions Oomori was having or what interest he was pursuing. He was always bright and passionate, active in the high school’s drama club. He could always trust Oomori to look out for him when it really mattered.
It was nice. Hirose valued all of them. And then there was Nakamura.
He got to know Nakamura rather recently. He was rather shy, reaching out to Hirose or revealing parts of himself all at once before becoming timid and shrinking into himself again. It was weird and off-putting, or at least it should have been, but there was something strangely refreshing to his mannerisms. Hirose found himself laughing at Nakamura’s antics, and he started to look out for him. Somehow, when Nakamura revealed his love for octopi, Hirose felt like it made sense. And maybe that was what was intriguing about Nakamura - beneath his timid and anxious behavior was sharp intellect, quick wit, and three beating hearts. Hirose found a way to fiddle with his crab keychain sometimes - a gift followed by a sudden request to become friends, as if they weren’t friends already.
Friends. Yes, they were new friends - ones who were just starting to get acquainted with each other and do activities with each other. And yet, Hirose found himself speaking to Nakamura about thoughts he would usually keep quiet. It was technically a choice, but it didn’t feel like it, as this soothing sensation draped over him and the words bubbled out of his throat like they were dying to see the light of day. Hirose expected it to become too much at some point - for Nakamura’s face to scrunch up in distress before smoothing out in an effort to hide discomfort.
But it never happened. Whenever Hirose glanced over, he would meet Nakamura’s gaze, his expression open and attentive, as if he was just given something precious. Despite the many times when Nakamura would look away from him, unable to look at him as he stuttered, whenever Hirose risked a part of himself, putting it out into the open, Nakamura never recoiled. He was calm and kind, and sometimes he would even reach out to Hirose, reassuring him in a way that shifted something in Hirose’s chest - like the foundations of the earth shifted a little and colors bloomed, vibrant and reinvented into something fantastical.
Nakamura carefully held every part of Hirose he was given, just as he had held an octopus that one day. And it was causing Hirose to slowly unravel.
But he didn’t realize it until Nakamura started to grow.
The shift was slow. It wasn’t as sudden as that day in primary school with the boy whose face Hirose could no longer remember. As their first year progressed, Nakamura still stuttered around him and remained a bit uncertain and reclusive towards other people. But then he started talking to other people, and Hirose watched as he began to gain confidence. Not stable confidence, but a bit of confidence nonetheless.
He invited Nakamura to join him for lunch a few times, but it wasn’t…terribly successful. Nakamura seemed to get along even less well with Takeuchi than he did, and he seemed nervous with the others as well. After the third attempt, Hirose felt too uncertain about the whole set-up and decided to spare Nakamura from another group lunch.
Then Nakamura started hanging out with Kawamura more. Hirose couldn’t help but wonder how he got into Kawamura’s group, glancing over at them as they talked up a storm, huddled over their desks.
“Man, I can’t believe Nakamura got an in with the girls before I did!” Takeuchi whined one day, sprawling over his desk. “At this rate, he’s gonna bag Kawamura before I win Hamaoka’s heart.”
Hirose laughed about it and moved on. He felt a knot tie in his stomach and wondered if he ate too quickly.
He heard passing stories from Oomori that Nakamura had been dragged into a few more of Tamura’s crazy acting projects, and despite his complaints, Nakamura did a good job at it. “Sure, he’s not a professional actor or anything, but he is seriously able to help,” Oomori mentioned offhandedly.
He continued to hang out with his friends, noticing from afar as Nakamura started to get his. They still managed to study sometimes, and they walked home every day together. The walks were something special to Hirose.
It was odd. He wasn’t a lonely person. He made friends easily, and sometimes he specifically sought out time alone. There were times when he once savored the walks home because he was by himself and he didn’t need to put up a front for anyone.
But with Nakamura, he had less of a front. Any veneer he had was rapidly wearing down with Nakamura, and somehow, walks with him were like the walks home alone, but better. He would talk about nothing and everything with Nakamura, listening closely as Nakamura slowly told him things about himself so he could commit every part he was given to memory, just as Nakamura had done and continued to do with him. He would laugh and bump shoulders with Nakamura, feeling as if he might float with how warm and light the air felt around them.
They were precious and addictive. And once summer arrived, Hirose, who thought he was a reasonable person, found himself wanting to see Nakamura an unreasonable amount.
He didn’t act on it, but he was close to breaking sometimes. He couldn’t explain it, but when he hung out with Nakamura, going to a mall, arcade, cafe, or aquarium, he found himself always wishing for more time. Even when they weren’t talking about much, his presence was something Hirose was drawn to in a way that startled him. As the summer stretched on, he had to stop himself from reaching for his phone to ask Nakamura to hang out the next day. He would have to lie face down in his pillow for a moment and firmly remind himself that they just hung out and he couldn’t monopolize Nakamura’s time.
Why did he want to monopolize Nakamura’s time? Something was seriously wrong with him.
If only knowing it was wrong was enough to smother it. It only got worse with the start of the second school year.
Nakamura continued to hang out and talk with other people. As people moved around to update each other on the happenings of their summer before class and during lunch, Nakamura was away from Hirose. Hirose tried his best to focus on the conversations he was having and was partially successful, but his eyes always drifted to the back of Nakamura’s head as he caught up with other people.
He saw Nakamura’s shoulders shake a little as he laughed at something Kawamura said. For a split second, there was nothing but the sound of Nakamura’s laughter, and Hirose had to grip the edge of his desk to stop himself from marching over to Nakamura and barging into the conversation.
It was frightening how the summer had only sharpened this strange feeling in him. He wanted to clamp onto Nakamura and never let go.
They walked around at the club festival together. Hirose couldn’t help but be a bit amused at how adamantly Nakamura had to fend off Aokiyama, but he helped Nakamura escape her grasp nonetheless. Hirose casually took a flyer from the Literature Club and the Table Tennis Club as they walked around.
He was looking at some of the other more casual sports clubs, browsing the table when Nakamura spoke from behind him.
“H-Hirose, uhm, I’m gonna get something from a club over on the other end. I’ll meet up with you here soon!”
Hirose glanced back at Nakamura with a bit of curiosity, but smiled nonetheless.
“Okay! See ya,” he chirped, watching Nakamura rush off as he continued to look around at the neighboring booths. Sure enough, hardly a moment had passed before Nakamura returned with two flyers in his hands. Hirose grinned at him.
“Found something that interested you?” He asked. Nakamura rubbed the back of his neck, smiling meekly.
“Y-Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. Hirose shifted his gaze to the pamphlets, one stacked on top of the other.
“Can I see?” Hirose asked, craning his neck a little to get a better view.
He saw a hand-drawn cover with painted colors and the words Art Club printed neatly along the edge. His eyes widened a little as he saw it, only for Nakamura to press it closely to his chest so he couldn’t see it anymore.
“I-It’s nothing! Really!” Nakamura squeaked. Hirose blinked before brushing it off, laughing with an ease he didn’t quite feel.
“Alright,” he agreed. He moved along the booths with Nakamura by his side, something clicking in his mind.
The Art Club. Nakamura was joining the Art Club. The one that Kawamura was in.
They arrived at the Drama Club’s booth, and Tamura’s eager energy cut through Hirose’s thought process. Hirose was almost grateful for it. He watched and chuckled as Tamura pleaded for Nakamura to join, claiming that he was some “diamond in the rough” and an “actor waiting to bloom” as he gesticulated wildly. Nakamura looked at him with an expression close to disdain, so Hirose was close to finding a gap in Tamura’s rant to turn him down and whisk Nakamura away from him.
Turns out, that wasn’t needed in the first place, because after a lot of glaring and grumbling, Nakamura took a flyer, muttering something about how he would consider it. Tamura was practically glowing at those words. Hirose stared at Nakamura in shock as they walked away from the table.
“Nakamura, you know you didn’t have to sign up for the Drama Club, right?” Hirose asked in disbelief. Nakamura straightened, meeting Hirose’s gaze with wide eyes.
“H-Huh? Yeah, I knew that! And it’s not like I’ve signed up yet or anything. But…I dunno. Maybe Tamura has a point or something,” He explained.
Hirose watched as Nakamura gazed down at the Drama Club flyer, his sharp eyes becoming gentler as he became calm in contemplation.
“I mean, it could never hurt to try it once,” he stated. Hirose hummed lightly before nodding, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“Good point! Well, I look forward to seeing you act then, Nakamura,” he declared. Nakamura seemed to startle badly at that, his cheeks flushing.
After that, things got busier for both of them. And Hirose wasn’t going to be one to blame Nakamura for getting busy. Hirose was happy to see that Nakamura grow in confidence. When he saw Nakamura standing up taller with others and easing up in conversation, he couldn’t help but feel weirdly proud, even when he had nothing to do with it. And when he saw that Nakamura was willing to try out those clubs, he still felt a warmth in his chest at the idea that Nakamura was comfortable pursuing things.
There was just something else - an itch under his skin that was starting to hurt. And it was starting to become harder to ignore.
“H-Hirose.”
Hirose looked up from his desk as Nakamura stood in front of his desk. Before he could even open his mouth, Nakamura bowed deeply to him.
“I’m so sorry!” He cried out, bewildering Hirose even further.
“What are you apologizing for?” Hirose asked, tilting his head.
“I can’t walk home with you today!”
Hirose blinked.
“Okay. Why?”
Nakamura slowly rose, his gaze fixed on the floor as he played with his bangs.
“I, uh…I have a club meeting today. The - One club I have meets on Tuesdays, and the other is on Fridays. I’m really sorry!”
“It’s alright, I get it!” Hirose responded with a light laugh, hoping to ease Nakamura’s worries. “The Literature Club starts soon, so I’m sure I won’t be able to walk home on those days. Just tell me all about them when we walk home next time, okay?”
“I will!” Nakamura declared.
And Nakamura kept his word.
Once both of their clubs were in full swing, they could only walk home together two days a week. Hirose always listened eagerly as Nakamura would talk about his experiences at his clubs. He would complain at length about how Tamura would needle him in the Drama Club and how Oomori was becoming his only source of safety in the thunderstorm that is Tamura with a vision. Occasionally, when Hirose would express interest, he would admit that he found the techniques and methods for acting interesting, as well as the backstage production. He explained it to Hirose with care and fondness, in a way that Hirose couldn’t help but find himself fond of it in a way he wasn’t before.
Admittedly, Hirose had to tell Nakamura that he saw his Art Club flyer to get him to talk about it, but once he made it clear that he thought it was cool that Nakamura was into drawing and the like, Nakamura talked about it too. He would explain exercises and projects they got. He explained how Kawamura gave him tips that immensely improved his artistic skills.
Hirose immediately found himself wanting to know less about the Art Club.
Nakamura asked Hirose about his club experiences too, but Hirose felt like there was less to offer when he told him. Sure, Matsumura was in the Literature Club with him, and he was amicable with the other people in it, but it all felt like same-old, same-old. And he admitted to Nakamura that he ended up dropping the Table Tennis Club despite his interest in it because Takeuchi and Mukai joined it with him, and Takeuchi could get weirdly competitive with both of them. It left a weird taste in Hirose’s mouth, so he quietly left the club, simply saying it wasn’t his thing and he needed more time to focus on academics.
Maybe Hirose was a bit spoiled - socially, that is. He wasn’t sure, but he just couldn’t feel the same level of eagerness that Nakamura seemed to feel about his clubs, the bright look in his eyes sincere and captivating.
It made Hirose wonder for the first time if he was out of place.
For the first time since primary school, Hirose felt desperate, and he hated it.
He didn’t want to isolate Nakamura. Just the idea of it was insulting to him. And yet, as he watched Nakamura move away from him, talking with others with the same ease he'd had with Hirose, he felt the distance become an ocean between them, and Hirose wondered if Nakamura would ever stop sailing back to see him. He wondered if it would be a drawn-out version of what happened with Hana - the realization that he was so perfectly in line and boring that there was nothing else to him.
It was humiliating to think like this about Nakamura. This wasn’t the right way to think about a friend. But the thoughts didn’t relent, plaguing Hirose as he struggled to focus on homework in his room, staring at the octopus on his pencil as he twirled it in his hand.
He was determined to keep it quiet. He was determined to be a good friend to Nakamura - the kind that wouldn’t latch onto him like a barnacle. He would ignore it all and be someone kind, relaxed, and normal.
But he was never good at keeping quiet.
____
“Matsumura’s the lead actor?”
“Mhm. Somehow, Tamura pestered Matsumura enough to convince him,” Nakamura explained as they walked home, side by side. “Tamura was certain that no one else would fit the prince charming role better than him.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Hirose murmured. “Prince Charming for…Snow White, right?”
“No, for the Little Mermaid,” Nakamura clarified. “Some parts will be changed for Tamura’s artistic rendition, but most of it will be the same.”
“I see,” Hirose responded. He hummed before giving Nakamura a playful grin. “Will you be playing Ursula?”
“H-Huh?!”
“I mean, you do know octopi better than anyone else! I bet you could act as one, too!”
“N-NO, of course I’m not!!”
“Alright, my bad, my bad!” Hirose laughed. “What are you doing for the play, then?”
“A-Ah, well, I’m helping to paint some of the backdrops and props,” Nakamura admitted, meekly smiling at the ground. “Actually, Tamura forced me to bring it up to the Art Club to get them to help with some of the set design, s-so we’re working on it together.”
“Oh! That’s neat,” Hirose commented. Nakamura’s posture softened a little as he smiled. Something in Hirose’s stomach twinged.
He liked it when Nakamura was like this with him.
“Hey, uhm.” Hirose faltered, wavering before he ventured on, smiling back at Nakamura. “Do you wanna hang out sometime this weekend?”
“Huh?” Nakamura’s eyes widened, looking at Hirose in shock. Hirose looked askance for a moment before continuing.
“I have some free time Saturday afternoon. We could get lunch or something!” He suggested. Nakamura’s face lit up.
“I’D LOVE TO!” Nakamura exclaimed, and for a split second, Hirose felt his heart rise with Nakamura’s volume, as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders.
But just as quickly as Nakamura agreed, his expression deflated into an expression of remorse. Hirose felt like crumpling under the anchor that fell back on top of him.
“Ah, but, I-I’m so, so sorry, Hirose, but…I-I have to go over lines with Tamura at that time. I’m really sorry, m-maybe I can cancel it-” Nakamura stuttered. Before Nakamura could soldier on, Hirose shook his head, giving Nakamura a smile that he hoped would ease his conscience.
“It’s totally fine! Just forget I even asked,” Hirose chirped. Even as Hirose refused to meet Nakamura’s gaze, he could feel it on him, as if he was about to say something else, but luckily Hirose didn’t need to pivot the conversation this time.
The weather did it for him. He felt a cold water drop land on his hand. He held his hand out, watching as a few raindrops prickled his skin before looking up at the grey sky.
“Shoot. Do you think we can make it back in time?” Hirose asked. Nakamura looked up, watching as the rain started to get heavier by the second.
“Don’t think so. Let’s run!” Nakamura declared. Hirose and Nakamura sprinted, racing the rain as it began to pour. They quickly detoured to a small shrine that was on their way home, taking shelter under the roof. Hirose peered up, the rain drumming on the pavement.
“You wouldn’t have brought an umbrella with you, have you?” Hirose asked. Nakamura shook his head.
“N-No, sorry. I guess we’ll wait ‘til it lightens up a little. Hopefully, it will,” Nakamura mused.
“Yeah. Hopefully,” Hirose murmured, staring out at the rainy streets, watching the water streak down like falling stars.
“Wanna make a wish?”
Hirose turned around at Nakamura’s proposal. Nakamura smiled a little as he gestured to the hanging bells with their long, coarse ropes. Hirose chuckled a bit before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a wallet.
“Sure, if I have the coins for it.”
They both tossed five yen into the wooden box, Hirose stepping back as Nakamura rang the bell. They made their bows before clapping twice, quietly making their wish.
Reasonably, Hirose should wish for the rain to stop. He knew this. But he secretly thought that if it were to keep raining, and Nakamura had to keep talking with him for a couple more hours, it would be nice. He thought of Nakamura and the ever-growing ocean between them. He thought of how he wanted Nakamura to stay with him.
He thought of how unsatisfying that would be for Nakamura.
I wish for Nakamura to be happy, and to only get happier by the day.
That felt like a reasonable wish. He completed a final bow before opening his eyes to Nakamura, who was already watching him, waiting patiently for him to complete his wish with a gentle gaze. Hirose felt his cheeks warm a little, wondering just how long he took.
“What’d you wish for?” Hirose questioned. Nakamura’s cheeks were dusted rosy pink as he looked down at his shoes, and Hirose selfishly hoped this wasn’t one of the last times he saw Nakamura like this.
“I-I, uh, I just wished for the rain to stop soon,” Nakamura spluttered. Hirose giggled, knowing it was probably a bit of a lie, but he didn’t push.
“Yeah, me too,” he lied back.
They both turned to watch the rain in silence, Hirose’s mind turning. He tried to ignore the feeling of it. How his skin felt a bit tight on him. How his heart kept kicking his ribs until it ached. How he was certain that if he looked at Nakamura for too long, Nakamura would read into him and realize that he wasn’t as good of a friend as Nakamura thought he was.
He focused on their conversation before this. His eyes widened as he realized something.
“So wait, if you’re studying lines, that means you are acting in the play! Who are you playing?” Hirose realized, looking over at Nakamura, who seemed to jump a little.
“Uh, w-well, not necessarily? It’s, uhm…It’s complicated…” Nakamura stammered. Hirose tilted his head.
“Why are you going over lines then?” Hirose pestered. Nakamura’s cheeks turned a bit pink as he answered.
“It’s, well…I’m an understudy for Matsumura, so Matsumura and I need to rehearse the lines together with Tamura directing us,” Nakamura confessed.
“What’s an understudy?” Hirose questioned. Nakamura perked up at that, glancing at him.
“Oh! Uh, an understudy is like a back-up. If Matsumura can’t play the prince for some reason, I’ll play the role for him,” he explained.
“So you might be able to play the prince?” Hirose exclaimed. Nakamura rubbed the back of his neck.
“I-It’s unlikely, but yeah. P-Possibly. I don’t know why Tamura thought I was a good fit, but I-I can’t question him, so…”
“That’s amazing! Congrats, Nakamura!” Hirose cheered. “At this rate, you’ll be the lead in the next play Tamura puts on!”
“You think?”
“Yeah! Before I know it, you’ll be some famous actor or something.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but thanks,” Nakamura murmured, a shy smile on his face.
“Of course! I mean, at this rate,-”
Hirose meant to say something about how Nakamura would become a world-renowned actor, and he would get to say he saw the picture of his friend on a magazine cover. He meant to say something about how Nakamura could be known in the theatre sphere if he decided that was his passion. He meant to say something about how Nakamura could probably suit the prince role if he managed to overcome general stage fright because he would be the type to care about a mermaid from the sea.
But Hirose said none of those things, even though he intended to.
“-you’ll outgrow me in no time.”
…Wait, what did he just say??
Hirose flicked his head up to meet Nakamura’s wide-eyed gaze, concern and confusion dawning on his face. Hirose’s chest tightened, and he felt his heart being wrung out like a rag. He forced out a laugh as he tried to scramble for something, anything, to run it back and undo what he just said.
“That’s- I mean- uh-” Hirose stammered. He felt the air turn thick, and it was hard to tell what was his heartbeat and what was the thunder of the rain.
“I gotta go. Later!” He declared, slinging his bag over his shoulder before taking off. He was pretty sure he heard Nakamura call out his name, but there was no way he was turning back.
He ran. He ran and ran and ran, his steps splashing through puddles and his panting loud in his ears. He could taste the rain on his tongue, and it was a little salty, as if the droplets were solidified seawater. Or maybe they were tears. That would be funny if the sky was crying on his behalf.
The rain was soaking into his clothes. He could feel it getting heavier. He wondered if he could run right into the sea and sink for a little bit. Not forever. Just long enough for these stupid feelings to diffuse out of him and into the water.
He didn’t run into the sea. He ran home.
____
Hirose didn’t intentionally skip school the next day.
He didn’t immediately change into dry clothes when he got home, and somehow, getting drenched caused him to wake up the next morning with a cold. He tried to convince his mom to let him go, telling her that he was just groggy from some poor sleep, but she was unconvinced.
“You look miserable, Aiki! No, you’re staying home today.”
He wasn’t sure how to tell her that he probably looked like a kicked puppy for far more pathetic reasons. So he walked back up to his room and crashed on his bed, sleeping for another hour before trudging through the rest of his sick day.
He tried to study, but his foggy brain started to ache when he worked for too long. He groaned and flopped back onto his bed, lying flat on his back as he held his phone over him. He flicked through his phone for something to watch, but nothing caught his eye. With a sigh, he put his phone to the side and stared up at the ceiling for a while before sitting up to watch the rain pouring outside his bedroom window.
It hadn’t stopped raining since yesterday. He hoped that Nakamura had gotten someone to bring him an umbrella.
He remembered Nakamura’s expression when he said those words. The way his eyes were wide in surprise, and his brows started to furrow as he realized the serious implications behind Hirose’s words.
You’ll outgrow me in no time.
Geez, why did he go and say that?? Hirose rolled over to lie face down on the bed, letting the sheets suffocate him for a moment before turning his head to the side to breathe.
This was fixable. There was no need to panic. He was certain that Nakamura would believe him if he clarified that he didn’t want to be Nakamura’s only friend when he said that. If he said that he didn’t say it to manipulate Nakamura into isolating himself, and Nakamura was still more than welcome to hang out with other people, and Hirose would actually prefer that Nakamura have other friends because it clearly made him happy, he had hope that Nakamura would believe him.
Right. He would tell Nakamura that he didn’t mean to say it at all. He would remind Nakamura that he was welcome to drift away from Hirose at any time, and he wouldn’t get upset by it. He would be happy for Nakamura, in the end.
This probably increased the likelihood of Nakamura moving away from him. It might happen faster now because no one liked someone who was clingy. A clingy person was stifling. Hirose struggled to swallow down the realization.
After saying what he said, he probably deserved it. What other outcome did he expect from this? He would have to enjoy Nakamura’s presence whenever he got it because now any time could really be the last time.
He heard a buzz from his phone. Hirose propped himself up on his elbows, lying on his stomach as he reached to grab his phone.
There was a message from Nakamura.
[N: Are you feeling okay?]
Hirose smiled somberly at the message before quickly typing a response.
[H: yea, i’m okay! just got a small cold but i’ll be fine in no time (ᵕ—ᴗ—)]
Hirose watched as the typing bubble appeared and disappeared a few times. Eventually, a new message popped up.
[N: Would you like me to bring you the assignments you missed? I can stop by your place.]
Hirose’s eyes widened. He really didn’t want to face Nakamura now. He looked and felt like a mess. But he thought about his knee-jerk instinct to run away from a follow-up like this and knew he didn’t want to do that to Nakamura. Even if it was awkward and ultimately ended with Hirose feeling worse, Nakamura deserved better.
[H: sure! that’d be great! thanks for the trouble nakamura ദ്ദി˙∇˙)ว]
After Hirose had lunch, everything he did was in an effort to ignore the rapid passing of time. He worked on studying with more anxiety-ridden focus than he was used to having. He watched some videos on his phone and was so honed in on not checking the clock on it that he hardly registered what was actually happening in the videos. He even tidied his room and changed into slightly less grungy clothes as it was getting closer to when the school day ended.
Hirose wondered if he could convince his mom to get his assignments for him, greeting Nakamura at the door before sending him on his way. That would be okay, right?
No, he shouldn’t. But the notion was tempting. I mean, it wasn’t like it was rude. Or it wasn’t the worst thing he could do.
He was sitting at his desk, mindlessly tapping his octopus pencil on the edge of the table, as he turned the idea over and over again in his mind. If he did have his mom get it for him, he could always send a nice thank-you message over LINE. And then maybe he could send a message over LINE instead. It might be nice for Nakamura to take his time reading over what Hirose was trying to say. Or he could wait until he got back after recovering from his brief cold. But then there was a chance that Nakamura would have forgotten it, and it would be weirder to bring attention to it again. And that was something Hirose hadn’t considered, huh? It’s possible Nakamura would forget it, and the issue would resolve itself, so maybe there was no need to-
“Hirose?”
A familiar voice, low and meek, spoke behind him, and Hirose whirled around in his desk chair, wide-eyed.
“Nakamura!” Hirose felt himself start to go off-kilter with the sudden movement, and he hastily grabbed the edge of his desk to save himself from toppling over. Nakamura stiffened, looking over Hirose in concern.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” He exclaimed. Hirose laughed lightly, rubbing his own arm.
“No, no worries. You just surprised me, that’s all,” Hirose admitted. Nakamura looked askance for a moment before meeting Hirose’s gaze with a gentle smile.
“Right. Still, I should’ve knocked first. My bad,” he reflected aloud.
He was so caring that it made Hirose’s chest hurt.
“Anyways, here,” Nakamura continued, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small stack of papers. “Luckily, we weren’t assigned too much today, but each assignment has a small sticky note on it with any additional reading needed, since you missed the lectures. Also, Mukai and Oomori will send you their notes.”
“Mukai and Oomori?”
“Yeah. I, uh - I let them know you were sick, and they agreed to send you pictures of their notes.”
“Wow! Thanks so much, Nakamura. I knew I could count on you.”
“D-Don’t mention it.”
Hirose rubbed his thumb against the stack of papers in his hands, the silence stifling as he hesitated to bring up what was on his mind. He glanced up and noticed that Nakamura had also turned shy again - the kind of shyness that existed before he had something he needed to bring up.
He remembered Nakamura looking this way the day he asked to be friends with Hirose. How ironic. Hirose had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Right as he was about to pipe up to rip off the plaster, Nakamura spoke up first.
“Uhm, so…I-I want to talk to you…a-about what you said yesterday,” Nakamura stammered. Hirose let the cold sting of confirmation rush over him before sighing, making sure to smile reassuringly.
“Makes sense. I also want to talk about yesterday, if you’re okay with that,” Hirose stated, watching as Nakamura startled, looking up at him in surprise.
“S-Sure! Y-You can go first if you want,” Nakamura offered. Hirose swallowed, a scraping sensation in his throat. He set the assignments on the desk and rubbed his hands along his thighs to steady himself.
“Okay,” Hirose started, only to realize that there was still some desperation and grief coloring his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Okay, sure.”
“I’m sorry, Nakamura,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have said…that, back at the shrine. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to hang out with me more because of it, or worse, cut off ties because of what I said. I want you to have other friends because I…I like it when other people see how cool you are. And more importantly, it makes you happy, and I want you to be happy, whether it involves me or not.”
Hirose paused, taking a quick breath before soldiering on, making sure his smile was still in place. It took a lot of effort to meet Nakamura’s confused gaze, but it was important.
“You’re allowed to outgrow me or do whatever you want. I want you to do what you want and hang out with the people you want to be with. So just forget I ever said anything back there, okay?”
Hirose smiled, patiently watching as Nakamura digested the words. He watched Nakamura’s brows furrow as his expression turned into one of determination against a backdrop of anxiousness.
He didn’t know why Nakamura’s expression looked like that.
“H-Hirose.”
“Hm?”
“I…I will never outgrow you!”
Hirose’s eyes widened. He blinked a few times at Nakamura’s declaration. Before he could even ask what Nakamura meant, he went on.
“I-I may befriend other people, and I’m happy with them, but that’s - I’ll always return to you. I’m happiest when I hang out with you!” Nakamura confessed, his cheeks flushed pink. “And it’s - it’s never an obligation or anything! I just like being with you, and every hangout means a lot to me!”
Hirose was worried his heart might jackrabbit right out of his chest. He felt his face warm with how unexpected this was.
He didn’t think Nakamura would respond this way. He knew he wanted this answer. But it startled him, just how badly he wanted this answer. He could feel his heart leaping at it, grappling onto Nakamura’s words of reassurance. Hirose gripped the edge of his desk to press down the urge to reach out and grasp Nakamura, digging his fingers in until there was an imprint left. Until there was a mark left so Nakamura would remember this moment and would keep his word. Until there was evidence that Nakamura said this, and Hirose could see a reminder that he was allowed to ask Nakamura to return to him, again and again.
It was unnerving, but the sentiment - the desire to believe Nakamura’s words and consider himself important in Nakamura’s life just as Nakamura was in his - was scrambling out of his ribcage before he could stuff it back in there.
“...S-Sorry, w-was that too much?” Nakamura whispered. Hirose snapped into focus, shaking his head.
“No! No, not at all! That’s actually a huge relief to hear,” he confessed. Hirose giggled softly before continuing. “Thanks, Nakamura. You’re - you also make me really happy, and I like hanging out with you. I’m glad you have fun with me, and y’know, if you ever change your mind, know that I’ll take no offense. I might miss you, sure, but I’m just glad to have you as my friend right now!”
Hirose meant the words to be easing - a bit of nice finality to kill the tension that lingered. Something to tame the eagerness in his heart. But Nakamura’s expression became serious in a way that caused Hirose to hold his breath.
“Hirose.”
“Yeah?”
Nakamura stepped a bit closer to Hirose and met his gaze. His grave expression gave way to a small smile - an expression that carried a quiet confidence that gripped Hirose.
He recognized this expression. It was the same one he wore when he told Hirose he was charming that one day. That compliment still lingered longer than it was supposed to in Hirose’s mind.
“I…I doubt I’ll ever change my mind. I’ll return to you as long as you let me.”
Hirose couldn’t keep his hold on the desk. He couldn’t keep himself back, even if he tried. Nakamura’s kind and precious genuity kept cracking Hirose open until his was bursting like a firecracker, frenzied and overwhelming. But Nakamura never seemed to flinch at the noise or the spark of Hirose’s true self. Even now, as Hirose rushed out of his chair to crush Nakamura in an unexpected embrace, Nakamura didn’t scamper away from the fire. He was shocked, but Hirose felt gentle, shaky arms slowly wrap around him, pulling him even closer to him. Hirose buried himself in the crook of Nakamura’s neck.
Hirose didn’t know what was happening, and he was sure that Nakamura didn’t know either. Hirose was exploding into a million blinding colors, and Nakamura simply let him, refusing to move away.
“You mean it?” Hirose choked out.
“Yes,” Nakamura murmured without hesitation. Hirose felt nimble fingers thread through his hair, and he felt he might fully combust.
“...I’ll hold you to it, then…Please keep returning to me,” he whispered, feeling his cheeks burn as the plea escaped against his better judgment. But Nakamura didn’t stiffen or waver. He hummed and kept Hirose close.
“I will,” he declared softly.
Hirose didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want it to end, whatever this was.
“AIKI-CHAN!”
Hirose immediately sprang out of Nakamura’s arms at the sound of his mom’s voice downstairs calling his name. He looked towards the door, ignoring how hot his face felt as he called back to her.
“Yeah??”
“I made cookies and tea for your throat!! Why don’t you and your friend come downstairs and have some?”
Hirose looked back at Nakamura, looking about as flustered and stunned as he felt. Something about how transparent Nakamura’s expression was settled something in Hirose, and he broke into a warm grin, giddy as he responded to his mom.
“Sure!! Just a minute!”
He gave Nakamura an apologetic look. “Sorry. Now that I hugged you, you might catch my cold. My bad.”
“It’s okay! I don’t mind!” Nakamura exclaimed, his voice sharp and sudden. Hirose blinked before laughing, throwing his head back and not caring about how his laughter sounded a bit raspy from his cold.
“Okay! Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though,” He chirped, grabbing Nakamura’s wrist as he pulled Nakamura with him to leave the room and get a snack downstairs.
He could feel how willing Nakamura was to follow him, and it gave him confidence to keep his hold on Nakamura’s wrist all the way down the stairs. He didn’t have to glance back to feel the way Nakamura broke into a small smile, just as eager to be with Hirose as Hirose was with him.
He was allowed to hold onto Nakamura, because Nakamura was just as ready to hold him. What a blessing that was.