Chapter Text
Mitsuri had been looking forward to seeing Obanai all morning. She desperately tried not to make it obvious. She really did. But every time she caught even the smallest glimpse of him across the hallway, her heart gave a little jump inside her chest, and before she could stop herself, she was smiling.
How could she not?
Obanai was everything she could have ever wished for. He respected her. That alone meant more to Mitsuri than he probably realized.
Other boys had never been particularly kind to her. They had always found something strange about her. She was too tall. Too strong. Too loud. Too energetic. Too different.
Too much.
Mitsuri still remembered middle school.
Three long, painful years of teasing and comments that were supposed to be funny but never really felt that way. Boys would laugh about her height and make comments about how strong she was, calling her unfeminine and strange simply because she didn't fit whatever idea they had created of what a girl was supposed to be.
Mitsuri had tried to laugh along with them. She had tried to pretend it didn't hurt. She had smiled. She had told herself she didn't care.
But she did.
Of course she did.
Then, during her third year of middle school, something changed.
She met him.
The quiet, shy boy with the most beautiful heterochromatic eyes she had ever seen. And the most delightful snake Mitsuri had ever encountered.
Kaburamaru.
At the time, however, Obanai had been nothing more than a stranger. She didn't know his name. She didn't know where he came from. She didn't know anything about him. She certainly didn't know that the strange boy standing in the doorway would eventually become one of the most important people in her entire life.
That afternoon, Mitsuri had stayed after school with her dear friend Kyojuro, who had always felt much more like a brother to her than simply a friend. Unfortunately, Mitsuri hadn't been in much of a mood to talk.
She had just been rejected.
Her first real crush had turned her down, and although Mitsuri had tried to act as though it wasn't a big deal, her heart felt as though someone had taken it between their hands and crushed it.
She sat at her desk with her head lowered, staring down at her hands while Kyojuro sat in the desk beside hers.
“Mitsuri...” Kyojuro said gently.
“I'm okay,” she immediately insisted.
Kyojuro looked at her.
Mitsuri refused to look back.
“You don't look okay.”
“I am!” she quickly protested.
Kyojuro was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You are crying.”
Mitsuri immediately brought both of her hands to her face.
“I am not!”
Kyojuro's expression softened. “You don't have to pretend around me,” he said as he rubbed her back ever so gently.
Mitsuri's lower lip trembled.
“I know...”
She hated crying.
Well, she didn't necessarily hate crying. She hated being seen crying. There was something about knowing another person could look at her face and immediately see that something was wrong that made her want to hide underneath her desk and never come out again.
Before Kyojuro could say anything else, however, the classroom door opened.
Mitsuri looked up.
A boy she had never seen before stepped into the room. He was shorter than her, with dark hair and striking eyes, one a completely different color from the other. They reminded her of topaz and sapphire.
But that wasn't what caught Mitsuri's attention.
Perched comfortably around his shoulders was a small white snake.
Mitsuri stared.
*Oh my goodness.*
For half a second, she completely forgot about crying.
The snake was adorable.
The boy noticed her staring. He stopped.
“...What?”
Mitsuri immediately looked away.
“N-Nothing!”
The boy continued staring at her, clearly confused, while Kyojuro glanced between the two of them.
“Ah!” Kyojuro said. “You must be here for the after-class presentation.”
The boy nodded.
“Yeah.”
His gaze returned to Mitsuri.
Mitsuri suddenly became very interested in the desk. She could feel him looking at her.
One second passed.
Then another.
Then another.
Finally—
“Are you okay?”
Mitsuri froze.
Slowly, she looked up.
“Me?”
The boy glanced toward her face.
“You were crying.”
Mitsuri's entire face grew warm.
“I...” She glanced toward Kyojuro before looking back at the unfamiliar boy. “I'll be okay.”
The boy didn't leave. He simply stood there, waiting.
There was no judgment in his expression. No laughter. No awkward comment about her crying. No uncomfortable smile.
Just concern.
Something about that made Mitsuri's chest ache.
She didn't know this boy. She didn't even know his name. And yet, somehow, something about him made her feel as though she could trust him.
Maybe it was the way he had asked. Maybe it was the way he hadn't immediately looked away.
Maybe it was his eyes.
Mitsuri hesitated for several seconds before finally lowering her gaze.
“I was rejected.”
The boy's expression softened slightly.
“Oh.”
Mitsuri looked down at her hands. Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
“I really liked him,” she admitted quietly.
The boy was silent.
Mitsuri expected him to say something comforting. Something like *you'll find someone else.*
Or maybe *I'm sorry.*
Instead—
“Then he was an idiot.”
Mitsuri looked up.
“What?”
“He rejected you,” the boy explained simply.
Mitsuri blinked.
“Well... yes.”
The boy shrugged.
“Then he's an idiot.”
Mitsuri stared at him.
For several seconds, she couldn't believe what she had just heard.
Then a tiny laugh escaped her.
“You can't just say that!”
The boy tilted his head slightly.
“Why not?”
“Because you don't even know me!” Mitsuri exclaimed.
The boy paused.
“...That's true.”
Mitsuri laughed again.
It was small.
But it was real.
And somehow, after crying for nearly an hour, that tiny laugh felt better than anything else had.
The boy looked away.
Almost embarrassed.
Mitsuri noticed.
Her smile widened.
Then her attention returned to the snake around his shoulders.
“Is that your snake?”
The boy looked back at her.
“Yeah.”
“He's so cute!”
Mitsuri completely forgot about her heartbreak again as she leaned forward slightly. The snake stared back at her with a gentle slither of his forked tongue.
“He looks so cute and scaly!”
The boy blinked.
“...His name is Kaburamaru.”
“Kaburamaru?” Mitsuri repeated.
She smiled brightly.
“That's such a pretty name.”
The boy nodded.
Mitsuri wiped the last of her tears from beneath her eyes before looking back at Kaburamaru.
“I like him.”
The boy looked at the snake.
“Kaburamaru likes you too.”
Mitsuri's eyes widened.
“Really?”
“He doesn't usually stay this close to people,” the boy explained.
Mitsuri smiled. She looked at Kaburamaru.
“Then maybe we're friends already.”
The boy looked at her.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then—
“Maybe.”
Neither of them knew it yet. Neither of them could have imagined it. But that small conversation after school would become the beginning of four years of memories.
Four years of laughter.
Four years of holding hands.
Four years of hugs.
Four years of conversations that lasted longer than they were supposed to.
Four years of looking for each other in crowded hallways.
Four years of becoming so close that eventually, neither of them ever felt the need to ask what they were.
And Mitsuri would eventually come to believe that he was the one person who truly understood her.
But on that afternoon, he had still been just a stranger. A shy boy with mismatched eyes. A little albino rat snake. And a surprisingly kind heart.
Mitsuri had no idea how important he was about to become.
Four years later, she still remembered that afternoon. Sometimes she wondered if Obanai remembered it too.
She hoped he did.
It had been a strange few weeks between them now that they were in their third year of high school. They had once been inseparable.
For nearly four years, Mitsuri and Obanai had existed in that strange space between friendship and something neither of them had ever quite dared to name. Mitsuri wasn't even sure whether calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend would have been the right label.
Neither of them had ever asked.
Neither of them had ever said anything.
They simply existed.
Together.
They danced around the label as though it were something fragile sitting directly between them, something that could be touched but never picked up.
And deep down, Mitsuri was hoping.
She hoped Obanai would ask her to be his someday.
Next week.
Next month.
Next year.
Today.
She would have said yes before he even finished asking.
They had interlocked their pinkies without needing to look at each other. They had held hands. They had hugged. They had spent countless hours talking, although, if Mitsuri were being honest, most of the talking had been done by her.
She could chatter for hours. She would jump from one subject to another without warning, beginning with something about school before somehow ending up talking about a restaurant she wanted to try, a movie she wanted to watch, something funny Kyojuro had said, and a completely unrelated story she had remembered halfway through.
And Obanai would listen.
That was what made her heart flutter.
The way he looked at her.
Those heterochromatic eyes would remain fixed on her as she talked, quietly listening to every word as though whatever she had to say actually mattered.
As though *she* mattered.
Sometimes Mitsuri wished she could freeze those moments. Capture them for herself. Put them inside a photograph. Something she could keep forever. Something she could hold against her chest at night while lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, imagining what the two of them could become.
Obanai had opened up to her too. He had told her things he told nobody else. Things Mitsuri treasured more than she could ever explain.
She guarded his secrets carefully, keeping them tucked away in the safest place she knew.
Her heart.
They were his secrets. He had trusted her with them. And Mitsuri would never betray that trust.
Sometimes she imagined taking a tiny key and locking every secret safely inside herself before kissing the key and hiding it somewhere nobody else could ever find it.
Because those moments belonged to her.
They were things Obanai had chosen to share with *her*.
And Mitsuri had always believed that eventually, they would figure out what they were.
Eventually, Obanai would take both of her hands in his. He would look into her eyes with those beautiful mismatched eyes.
And he would finally ask her to be his.
Mitsuri imagined that moment more times than she would ever admit. Maybe it would happen after school. Maybe on the walk home. Maybe somewhere quiet where nobody else could interrupt them.
Maybe he would be nervous.
Maybe she would be nervous too.
Maybe he would struggle to get the words out.
Maybe she would start crying before he even finished.
It didn't matter where.
It didn't matter how.
As long as it was him.
Even after they had grown distant, they had never completely stopped talking. The conversations became less frequent. The hugs became rarer. The little moments they once shared seemed to slip further and further away until Mitsuri sometimes wondered whether she had imagined how close they had once been.
But they were still there.
The conversations.
The looks.
The moments.
And to Mitsuri, that meant there was still hope.
At least, she thought there was.
So when Obanai approached her that morning, Mitsuri's entire face lit up.
“Obi!”
He stopped in front of her.
“Kanroji.”
She smiled brightly.
“You came!”
Obanai blinked.
“...I always do.”
“I know!” Mitsuri giggled. “I just mean—well, you know what I mean.”
“I don't.”
Mitsuri gave him a playful look.
“You don't have to be so serious all the time.”
“I'm not serious.”
“You are.”
Obanai shook his head.
“I'm not.”
“You are!”
He stared at her.
Then, very faintly, the corners of his eyes lifted.
Mitsuri's heart fluttered.
And there it was.
The small crinkles around his eyes above the bandages covering his mouth.
Like a gift.
Mitsuri loved those moments. She loved every tiny sign that Obanai was happy. She loved every small thing he did without realizing it.
Oh, how she loved to imagine that those bandages were simply another thing he used to hide behind, waiting to be unwrapped so she could see whatever fears and troubles he kept underneath them.
In her imagination, she would kiss those fears away. She would hold him close. She would whisper into his ear that everything was okay.
That he didn't have to hide from her.
That he never had to hide from her.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she realized Obanai was looking at her.
“You've been doing well?”
Mitsuri blinked.
“Mhm! I've been okay.”
Obanai studied her for a moment.
“Just okay?”
Mitsuri hesitated.
“Well...”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I've missed talking to you.”
Obanai looked away.
“I've been busy.”
“I know.”
“You're busy too.”
“I know.”
A brief silence settled between them.
Mitsuri smiled.
“But we're talking now.”
Obanai looked back at her.
“Yeah.”
And for those few minutes, it felt like the old days.
They talked about school. Their classes. Things that had happened during the week.
Mitsuri complained about something one of her teachers had assigned, and Obanai listened while she dramatically explained why she believed the assignment was personally designed to ruin her life.
“It was only ten questions,” Obanai reminded her.
“Ten questions too many.”
“You finished them.”
“That's not the point.”
Obanai looked at her.
“What is the point?”
“The point is that I suffered.”
“You did homework.”
“I suffered while doing homework.”
Obanai sighed.
Mitsuri laughed.
“You're so mean to me.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You sighed.”
“That's not saying anything.”
“It says everything.”
Obanai stared at her.
Mitsuri stared back.
Then his eyes crinkled again.
“You still laugh too loudly,” he remarked.
Mitsuri immediately frowned.
Playfully.
“I do not!”
“You do.”
“You're just quiet.”
“There's nothing wrong with being quiet.”
“There's nothing wrong with being loud either.”
“I never said there was.”
Mitsuri grinned.
“You missed me.”
Obanai looked at her.
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't have to!”
Obanai sighed again.
“You always do that.”
Mitsuri's smile faltered slightly.
“Do what?”
“You decide what I'm thinking.”
Mitsuri's expression softened.
“Maybe I know you.”
He didn't answer.
But he didn't walk away either.
That was enough for her.
For those few minutes, Mitsuri let herself hope.
Maybe things were going back to normal.
Maybe the distance between them hadn't changed anything important.
Maybe she hadn't imagined what they had.
Maybe—
“Obanai!”
Mitsuri turned.
A petite brunette girl with soft hazel eyes waved from farther down the hallway before walking toward them.
Mitsuri recognized her immediately.
Isabera.
The girl smiled brightly when she reached them.
“Obanai! I've been looking everywhere for you.”
Obanai glanced at her with a gentle look in his eyes that made Mitsuri's throat tighten.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see you.”
Mitsuri's smile remained.
She wasn't quite sure why.
Isabera stepped closer to Obanai.
Mitsuri noticed how comfortable they seemed together.
Too comfortable.
Something inside her tightened.
She tried to ignore it. There was no reason to feel strange. Obanai could have other friends.
Of course he could.
Mitsuri had other friends too.
Shinobu. Kyojuro. Tengen.
She was actually supposed to meet Shinobu and Kyojuro that morning, but she had gotten distracted talking to Obanai. Besides, she had Home Period with them anyway, so they couldn't be too upset with her.
But that didn't explain why she suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe properly.
Isabera smiled at Obanai.
Then she wrapped her arms around him.
Mitsuri froze.
Her smile disappeared.
For a second, she couldn't process what she was seeing.
Obanai didn't push her away.
Mitsuri's fingers curled against the fabric of her school uniform.
*Oh.*
The girl pulled back just enough to look at him.
Then—
She kissed him.
Mitsuri's mind went completely blank.
The hallway suddenly seemed unbearably loud. Students talking. Footsteps. Lockers slamming shut. Someone laughing nearby. A teacher calling for someone. Shoes squeaking against the floor.
Suddenly, everything was too loud.
And yet somehow, she couldn't hear any of it clearly.
All she could see was them.
Everything else was a blur.
*No.*
Her heart seemed to drop somewhere beneath her feet.
*No.*
Isabera's hands.
Obanai standing there.
The space between them disappearing.
*No, no, no.*
The bell rang.
Mitsuri flinched.
She looked at Obanai one last time. He still hadn't noticed her.
Or perhaps he had.
She couldn't tell.
She didn't stay long enough to find out.
Mitsuri turned around.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
She kept her head down as her vision began to blur.
*Don't cry.*
She blinked rapidly.
*Please don't cry.*
She passed Kyojuro and Shinobu.
“Mitsuri!”
She kept walking.
Kyojuro turned.
“Kanroji!”
She walked faster.
“Mitsuri, wait!”
She couldn't.
If she stopped, they would see her face. If they saw her face, they would know.
Everyone would know.
They would know what a lovesick fool she had been.
Four years.
Four years of hoping.
Four years of thinking that maybe—
Maybe—
And she couldn't let them see.
Not yet.
So she hurried toward her classroom, one hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly that her fingers began to hurt. Her eyes burned. Her chest hurt.
It felt as though something heavy had settled directly over her heart and refused to move.
Behind her, she heard footsteps.
“Mitsuri.”
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned around.
Kyojuro and Shinobu were standing several feet away. Kyojuro's expression had lost its usual brightness.
Shinobu looked concerned.
“Are you all right?” Shinobu asked.
Mitsuri immediately smiled.
“I'm fine!”
It came out too quickly.
Kyojuro frowned.
“You were crying.”
“No, I wasn't!”
“We both saw you,” Shinobu added gently.
Mitsuri's smile faltered.
“I...”
She quickly rubbed beneath one eye.
“I'm just sick.”
That wasn't the reason.
But she wasn't technically lying either. She had spent the entire weekend with an unrelenting fever, although she had started feeling better now.
Shinobu tilted her head.
“Sick?”
“Yeah.”
Mitsuri nodded.
“I've been feeling a little sick lately.”
“Are you feeling worse?”
“No! No, I'm okay.”
Kyojuro looked at her skeptically.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Mitsuri smiled.
Kyojuro continued staring at her.
“You don't look well.”
“I know.”
Mitsuri gave a small laugh.
“I told you. I'm sick.”
“And your eyes?” Shinobu asked.
Mitsuri froze.
“What about them?”
“You look like you've been crying.”
“Something got in them.”
Shinobu looked at her.
For several seconds.
“Something got in both of them?”
Mitsuri's face grew warm.
“Well...”
She laughed awkwardly.
“Maybe there was a lot of dust.”
Kyojuro still looked unconvinced.
Shinobu did too.
“Mitsuri.”
“I'm okay,” she said more quietly.
Her smile weakened.
“Really.”
The bell rang again.
Shinobu glanced toward the classroom.
“We should go.”
“Mhm.”
Mitsuri nodded. Then she smiled again and walked with them toward their Home Period in Physiology.
As soon as she reached her desk, she sat down. Her hands trembled slightly. She folded them together and placed them on top of the desk.
The teacher began speaking.
Mitsuri stared toward the front of the classroom.
She listened.
She really tried to listen.
But the words seemed distant.
Her thoughts kept returning to the hallway.
To the girl.
To Obanai.
To the kiss.
Her throat tightened.
*After four years...*
She swallowed.
*Did it mean nothing?*
Her eyes stung again. She refused to let the tears fall.
They had never officially been together. She knew that. She had always known that.
But that didn't make it hurt any less.
What had all those moments meant, then?
The hands they had held?
The hugs?
The conversations?
The afternoons spent together?
The times Mitsuri had gone home smiling because Obanai had said something that made her heart flutter?
Had she misunderstood everything?
She lowered her gaze.
*Where did I go wrong?*
Her mind immediately began searching for answers.
*Was I too girly?*
She frowned.
*Was I too loud?*
*Too emotional?*
*Too tall?*
*Did I embarrass him?*
*Did I say something wrong?*
*Did I offend him without realizing it?*
Her chest hurt even more.
Mitsuri wanted to cry. She wanted to let herself fall apart. She wanted to put her head down on her desk and disappear underneath it.
But somehow, she couldn't.
There were no tears.
Only that awful pressure behind her eyes.
She slowly looked toward the window.
The sky outside was bright. Everything looked completely normal. Students were walking outside. Someone was laughing. Cars moved past the school. The sun was shining.
Nothing had changed.
That almost made it worse.
Mitsuri wished desperately that this wasn't real.
Maybe she had misunderstood.
Maybe she had imagined it.
Maybe she was dreaming.
Maybe she'd wake up and find herself back beside Obanai, laughing about something silly.
Maybe he would look at her again the way he used to.
Maybe he would reach for her hand.
Maybe he would tell her she had gotten everything wrong.
Maybe—
Mitsuri closed her eyes.
*Please.*
Just for a moment, she let herself believe it.
*Please let me be wrong.*
But when she opened her eyes again, the classroom was still there.
The lesson was still happening.
Her teacher was still speaking.
And Obanai was still somewhere down that hallway.
With someone else.
Mitsuri forced another smile.
Then she turned her attention toward the lesson.
She would get through class.
She would act normal.
She would smile.
She would laugh if she needed to.
She would talk to her friends.
She would go home.
She would do everything she was supposed to do.
No one would know.
No one had to know.
But beneath her bright and bubbly personality, a flicker of misery had been planted and was slowly beginning to take root in Mitsuri's heart.
One question kept repeating itself.
*After all those years...*
Mitsuri lowered her gaze toward her hands.
*Did I really mean nothing to him?*