Work Text:
Even when she’s not around, Teruhashi Kokomi’s mere existence is a day-ruiner.
Kusuo likes taking his time in the hallway, walking to his classroom slowly so he might avoid unnecessary conversation with his nuisances. But even this small moment he wants to himself is tainted by thoughts of her.
Every morning, all anyone can think about is Teruhashi this, Teruhashi that. It sickens him to his core. Who cares if Teruhashi noticed you moved neighbourhoods by the smell of your uniform alone? Or if she trimmed her hair two inches lower than she usually does? Or if–
“Teruhashi and Saiko are dating?!”
Well, that certainly wasn’t what he was going to say.
A herd of guys form a tight crowd around the main noticeboard, the corridor erupting into frantic thoughts and whispers. He pushes through rather easily, like their bodies have lost any reason to stay attached to the Earth. Plastered on the board is a clipping of the school newspaper, an obnoxious headline across the page. ‘Teruhashi Kokomi seen on a date with the Heir of the Saiko Conglomerate!’
He exhales in a soft chuckle. Teruhashi is named, but Saiko is not. There’s something satisfying about that.
That was all he intended on doing – but his eyes glossed over the article enough to read the whole thing, along with the photos they so kindly printed beside the text. They’re taken from a far distance, quality so low you can only make out their hair colours and her golden aura, which makes him think this might be real. They’re photographed from behind, stepping out of a fancy limousine into an even fancier restaurant.
Since when did the school newspaper club do this kind of journalism? What happened to canteen lunch menus and toilet renovations? This is borderline stalking, isn’t it?
He has half the mind to tear it down, but holds off with how many people there are around. He thought the newspaper club learnt their lesson from the castaway incident and their sore attempts at tailing her. He could’ve prevented this – he should’ve, but this came out of left field. Sort of.
He would have to be stupid not to notice Saiko’s incessant methods of courting her. Bouquets of red roses left on her desk every day that made him turn up his nose (how they’re considered low-allergen, Kusuo has no idea), invitations to lunch at the most coveted places in the city (their lunch break is only half an hour, they wouldn’t even make it in time), and an abundance of luxurious treats (this, he could get behind).
The one thing that stayed consistent, aside from Saiko putting no thought into any of these “gifts”, is that Teruhashi always denied them. She had no reason to accept them, anyhow. If she wanted flowers, there are billions of men that would learn flower arrangement for her, hell, she could get them herself. She could call and make a reservation ten minutes before closing time at a Michelin-star restaurant and still score a table. And the only time she thinks of sweets is when it comes to him.
So what gives?
He slides open the door, already feeling the misery hanging over his classmates’ heads. If he thought her sick day was bad, he doesn’t know where to begin with the shadow enveloping the room. By noon, he expects Saiko’s table to be vandalised, flipped over, then thrown out the window. (He would not oppose that, albeit violent.)
As he sets his bag down, Kaido is already at his desk. “Have you heard…” It’s the only thing anyone can talk about, so– “...Teruhashi and Saiko are getting married?”
Talk about blowing things out of proportion.
(He doesn’t know why, but the image is more than unsettling. He assumes the two most egotistical people he knows being a couple is… visually appalling.)
Kuboyasu laughs. “Come on, the next thing you’re gonna say is they’re having kids together.”
“Are you kidding!? The Kokomins would start a riot!” Kaido exclaims.
Kusuo would like to add that said situation has happened before, with him, and the Kokomins seemed alright with it. But Saiko has been their public enemy ever since the Great Purge, so perhaps it would be a different story for him.
“That newspaper club is full of crap anyway,” Kuboyasu says. Well, not exactly that, but for the sake of the rating Kusuo’s taken creative liberty. “Remember when they tried to frame Saiki? Or when they wrote that the school was haunted?” That last one is somewhat true, though.
And this new scoop…
Teruhashi’s desk is noticeably empty. Not only without its owner, but there’s no gifts that take up its entire surface, rendering it useless.
“Could it be they’re…”
Don’t be ridiculous, Kaido. Teruhashi wouldn’t risk her perfect attendance for that half-wit man with nothing to his name except 40 billion yen (okay, that one didn’t land very well, but his point still stands). He’ll just check up on her at home, confirm that she’s sick and—
“That’s right, peons,” Saiko announces as he approaches Kusuo’s desk. “Kokomi and I are finally an item. And I didn’t have to ruin your lives to achieve it!”
What did he do this time? Take her family as ransom? Kusuo thinks he’d be okay with that as long as Makoto goes too.
“It turns out she doesn’t care as much about her friends as I thought. Father was right, after all!” he continues with a wide grin. “A few gifts and she accepted me with open arms.”
A few? Over the past three months she’s gotten a bouquet every weekday, chocolates every other and free fine dining every Tuesday (for some reason). And even if this date did happen, Kusuo is almost certain it wasn’t with “open arms”. She was badgered.
Almost certain.
Judging by Saiko’s thoughts, he’s not lying. Saiko’s one of the only people that are rather honest. When you’re in the right tax bracket, you hardly care what people think about you, he supposes.
“Then—then if you’re here, where is she?!” Kaido cries, pointing at her empty seat.
Saiko shrugs. “How would I know? Locked up in a tower somewhere?”
Scarily enough, Kaido and Kuboyasu can’t tell if he’s joking. They’ve also taken their own creative liberty in imagining Teruhashi as a damsel-in-distress, long blue hair stretching across the floor, glimmering eyes and gentle hands brushing away her patented Angel Tears.
“She’s probably going to be extra late getting ready to see me,” he answers confidently. “You know, since we’re together and all.”
Kusuo blinks, slow. He’s not sure whether he’d prefer she arrives all made up for this idiot, or for her to miss a day of school. Both options make him want to lift Saiko’s desk in the air with telekinesis and smash it through the window.
He does not.
Thankfully, their Literature teacher steps into the class (and experiences the overwhelming gloom), causing the crowd around his table to disperse. Surely Teruhashi wouldn’t miss her favourite subject, right? Or could she be so blinded, so materialistic that she might do something so uncharacteristic?
If she was, why did she reject Saiko for him all those months ago? Why give herself more trouble by spending time with him instead of taking the money outright?
Before anyone gets any funny ideas, Kusuo is not upset. He has no reason to be. It’s not his business who Teruhashi dates. In fact, this is good for him – once she’s paired off with Saiko, there will be no excuse for her to chase after him. What irritates him is how Saiko is swaggering around flaunting it like it’s not an act of war, roleplaying as this proud… boyfriend, when all Teruhashi is to him is another trophy to add to his collection. Never mind the fact that the gifts stopped the moment she accepted him.
Tch. She can pick that silver-haired, arrogant, good-for-nothing idiot if she wants. It’s not like Kusuo cares. If she wants to play the beautiful woman that melts the rich man’s heart of stone, that’s up to her.
He vows under his breath that he won’t waste his clairvoyance on her.
Kokomi hasn’t had many first dates, but safe to say, her date with Saiko Metori is officially the worst first date she’s ever had.
“Why?” Chiyo asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She visited with a pile of homework since Kokomi didn’t attend school today, and brought along Imu because of all the news. Mera would’ve come too if not for her part-time job.
Imu exclaims, “Of course he isn’t good enough for Kokomi-senpai! She deserves someone that thinks about her more than himself.”
“You know who Saiko is?” Kokomi questions, staring down at her Literature work. She can’t believe she missed her favourite class.
“Of course! Every good Kokomin knows about the Great Purge–” Imu breaks out into coughs. “Um, he’s a pretty infamous senior.”
She nods. It’s understandable – hard not to talk about the guy who brazenly asked for the Teruhashi Kokomi’s hand.
“So? What happened? Is he secretly super broke?” Chiyo asks. “Is his house secretly a run-down building that turns into a castle because of his distorted mind?”
“What?”
“Sorry. Kaido got me into this video game,” Chiyo replies, scratching the back of her head. “Did he take you to a drive-through or something? Spill!”
Kokomi shakes her head. “No, he got us a reservation at that one celebrity chef’s restaurant in town. It was nice.”
Nice is an understatement. The restaurant was something out of a Western romance film. Twinkling chandelier illuminating the room, tables dressed up and topped with glass vases and fresh flowers. Several types of gleaming cutlery were arranged neatly on the tablecloth – the waiter even offered to explain their uses, but of course, the perfect pretty girl doesn’t need lessons on etiquette. She was born aware of the difference between a salad fork and a table fork (well, she was taught when she grew consciousness, but that’s pretty much the same).
“That place is always so full!” Imu exclaims. “Don’t tell me he got a table near the bathroom. Or made you pay the bill.”
“No, no,” she says. “He… rented the whole place out. Paid for everything, too.”
She had muttered it to herself. “It’s so empty.” She assumed it was the work of God as it always is, but Saiko proudly shared that he bought out the restaurant for the day. They made small conversation over medium rare steak and grape juice – yes, unfermented grape juice, since wine was out of the question – and he footed the bill.
Chiyo snaps her fingers. “Then it has to be how he acted. What did he say? Was it about us?”
“No, actually, he… kind of apologised?” Kokomi says, placing her pen on the low table. “In his own way.”
It went more like – “Those peons you’re always with–your friends, I mean, they’re not so bad,” – to which she could only nod and smile awkwardly.
Imu hums. “Then why not him? He’s not drop-dead gorgeous, sure, but he’s better-looking than…”
She leaves it there, but the three of them know how to fill in the blanks.
It’s what she spent all night pondering, so much that she woke up late this morning. That’s not entirely why she skipped today – she would’ve just come late, but the answer to that question, “why not Saiko”, has a perfect attendance and had no reason not to come to school. The answer to why she didn’t enjoy the date, although on paper it was a good one, would be at arm’s length from her, and she’s not sure how she could face him knowing that.
But she can’t say that. How can she say that when she’s spent an hour retelling what would have been a perfect date, if not for the fact that her heart is set on someone who barely speaks to her, never mind liking her?
“He… didn’t ask what I wanted to order,” she blurts. It’s true, but it still has her second-guessing. Was that the right thing to say? Does she sound spoiled?
They both nod at her slowly. Chiyo says, halfway through a pack of potato chips, “Your standards are really high. Even that is a deal-breaker?”
Imu, with a surge of confidence, replies, “Kokomi-senpai deserves only the best! Of course her standards should be high!”
Chiyo finishes off her snack with a satisfied hum. “Now that I think about it, I guess it gives off the vibe that he doesn’t think about you–”
Kokomi’s phone buzzes against the desk, screen lighting up with a notification. When she picks it up, reads it, a gasp escapes her.
“What? What?” Chiyo asks, leaning over the table. “Is it him?”
“Yes, it’s… Saiko.” Kokomi doesn’t know why she was hoping it’d be anyone else. “He’s asking if I’m free after school tomorrow.”
There’s a pause, and she knows they’re expecting her to say more. She doesn’t have more to say.
“Well? He’s asking you out again, right?” Imu looks at her as if the reply is set in stone. Like there’s only one correct answer.
Chiyo sighs. “I wonder where they’re going this time. Maybe he’ll rent out an entire amusement park for you!”
“Or maybe he’ll do something more on our plane of existence,” Imu remarks. “To be relatable!”
She stares at the message again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Then, Chiyo’s dreamy smile drops into a frown. “Are you okay, Kokomi?”
“Of course I am,” she replies. The answer is quick. Maybe too quick. “I just… I don’t know.”
Chiyo nods. “You’re still in love with–”
“I’m not in love with Saiki, that’s…” Kokomi trails off. “Can’t I just be unsure about going out with a guy who threatened to ruin my friends’ lives?”
Before Chiyo can respond, Kokomi’s phone is snatched out of her hands by Imu who swiftly types something and hands it back.
“I’m sorry Kokomi-senpai, please don’t be mad!” Her eyes glimmer convincingly. “But I don’t think Saiki is good for you. The only way to get over him is to find someone new!”
“Agreed,” Chiyo says. “If you don’t like him after this date, you can always turn him down. It’s not like you guys are a couple.”
Is that how it works? Going on dates feels like a couple-y thing to do – she’s only been on dates with–
Saiko’s typing bubble turns into a message before she can finish that thought. ‘I’ll see you at school.’
Good news: Teruhashi hated her and Saiko’s first date. Bad news: For some reason, they have another scheduled today.
Wait. He meant it the other way around.
She doesn’t look any more dolled up than usual, at least. Still the effortlessly beautiful Teruhashi Kokomi, perfectly ironed uniform, hair pin-straight down her back as she waits with Saiko by the school gate. What rolls up is a sleek black limousine, its driver rushing out. Deep red carpet unravels onto the pavement as he opens the car door.
Saiko holds out his hand. Kusuo holds back an eye-roll.
He can’t seriously think I’ll take his hand, right?
That’s right, Teruhashi. Saiko must be stupid to assume that she would do something like that so openly. It would kill her fans. Her reputation. Even them being seen next to each other has a kill count, he’s sure.
Instead, she takes to the red carpet like it was made for her. Each graceful step makes something in Kusuo’s chest squeeze. She’s really going on this date, huh?
There has to be a reason he feels this way – why as the limousine revs up, he considers transforming into an elephant and obstructing the car, why he continues to read her mind just in case any new developments spring up, why he teleports to the neighbouring town, two minutes before they arrive.
“Here?” Teruhashi asks as they step out of the car.
Saiko turns to her. “Is there a problem? I’ve never been to this kind of establishment. I thought it would appeal to you.”
“No, it’s nothing, it’s just…”
A glass building towers over them, crowned with a giant golden ball and vibrant letters that read ‘Last Round’. Neon signs run down its front, advertising the various recreational activities the mall offers – baseball, karaoke, and of course, bowling.
The last time I was here, I was with…
Kusuo can’t help the small smile that twitches onto his face. He recalls that day – the crashing of bowling pins knocking over, the arcade game music playing over and over. But more importantly, her thoughts of him, the ones that stole his concentration and made him forget his goal of avoiding her brother.
(Perhaps God is on his side for once, leading Saiko straight to a place that can only remind her of him.)
“I’ve never played bowling using public facilities,” Saiko says, pointing at the glowing sign.
She blinks. “You have a bowling alley in your house?”
“What kind of home doesn’t?” he questions. The automatic doors slide open for them as they enter the mall, with Kusuo closely behind. “Either way, I don’t play much.”
Teruhashi tilts her head. I mean, it’s not like I like bowling that much either, but… “Why not? You get to play for free.”
“No sport is all that fun alone,” Saiko answers.
No. No, no, no. Don’t give him a sappy backstory now, God. Universe. Whoever is listening. Don’t play into that stupid cliche.
“Oh,” she says, and Kusuo’s heart drops. “Let’s try it, then! I’m not very good, though.”
“Don’t worry.” Saiko smirks. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Show her how it’s done he does not. Saiko fails miserably, ball landing in the gutters every turn. His throwing pose is impossibly exaggerated, limbs stretched out in ways Kusuo was unaware one could achieve.
Teruhashi giggles, clapping at all his attempts. On her turn, she ambles towards the machine and picks up a bowling ball with enough struggle to disguise her subsequent strikes as pure luck.
Now that’s how it’s done! She dusts off her hands as she whirls back around.
“It must be my lucky day,” Teruhashi says. As if! Of course I’m amazing at bowling, too. There’s nothing about me that isn’t perfect!
The TV screen hanging above them seems to agree. Strikes and spares across the board for her, in comparison to Saiko’s, somehow equally as impressive, zeroes. As always, no one can beat me. No one except for…
Teruhashi shakes her head, like that might clear her mind of him. In her own words, as if.
No, Kokomi. You’re on a date with someone else! Plus, you hated that Saiki won all the games.
Saiko’s ball rattles as it hits the gutter again.
“Are you sure you have a bowling alley at home?” she asks in a playful tone that Kusuo can only scoff silently at. Now she’s teasing him?
“I told you I don’t play very often,” Saiko replies with a huff. “And my butlers usually throw the ball for me.”
Her eyes narrow. “So you don’t play…” She twirls on her toes, gaze locking onto the other side of the hall. “How about we try that?”
Kusuo follows her index finger to an area with wildly patterned carpet and dazzling lights. Rows of machines with glowing screens or metal claws play their tunes over and over, familiarly overwhelming.
I’ll just have to force the thoughts of Saiki out of my head, Teruhashi thinks with a sudden conviction.
And so she does. The cacophony of music and colourful lights must help because she does it well.
After buying a few tokens, Teruhashi drags Saiko to a machine filled with stuffed toys. Saiko grips onto the joystick as she stares at the different plushies through the glass.
Kusuo, squeezed in between nearby arcade machines, listens to the stupid tunes and watches her eyes sparkle at one of the prizes. A particular blue cat – or so he thinks, it’s not cat-shaped at all, it just looks like a huge lump – plushie.
“That one is so cute,” she exclaims. “A little to the right!”
Following her instructions, Saiko moves the metal claw and slams the button.
The claw drops and latches onto a fluffy, pink bunny. Right as the claw reaches the finish line, it stops. The bunny falls.
Back into the pile of stuffed toys, that is.
“Impossible!” Saiko exclaims, fishing for his wallet. “I had it that time. I’ll purchase more of those tokens.”
She laughs.
Teruhashi laughs, like, really laughs, and it is both the most beautiful and most heartbreaking sound known to man. He wants to trap it in a bottle and shove it in the drawer where he keeps all the things he shouldn’t. He wants to keep it for himself.
Has she ever laughed like that for anyone? For him?
Kusuo heard it too, but still, he was jealous of Saiko for being the one to cause it.
That’s it. That’s the feeling he’s been having since their date started. No, since he discovered there was a first. No. Ever since Saiko started planting roses and chocolate on her desk.
Jealousy.
What a disgusting feeling.
He should leave. This is none of his business anymore. It never was.
He slips out of the gap between the machines. Bolts down the wildly patterned carpet, ignoring the repetitive music. Past the crashing bowling pins and zipping darts and everything that feels too familiar.
Kusuo finds himself in front of a photobooth. The photobooth, its white curtain drawn to the emerald walls, beckoning. Taunting.
Like everything else today, it isn’t on purpose. He’d love to take credit for Saiko’s embarrassing performance at all the games — he certainly thought about it. It might be worse that it wasn’t him. She laughed at it. She liked it.
He’s not sure how long he stands in front of the open curtain for. He’s not sure he wants to know.
“Saiki?” It’s the sickeningly sweet voice that he’s grown to hate so much. “Are you here alone?” What’s he doing in front of this?
“Are you?” he can’t help but ask, though he knows the answer.
“I am now,” she replies. “I… was with Saiko earlier. On a date.”
So she’s coming outright and saying it. “Did you have fun?”
I guess it really doesn’t bother him in the slightest, she thinks. I should’ve known. She doesn’t respond audibly, just nods.
“But you’re alone now,” he points out. “Why?”
“He… didn’t know my favourite colour.” Only now does he notice her hands are behind her, holding a pink bunny by its fluffy arm. How long must it have taken for Saiko to get that for her? “I know it sounds silly, but he could’ve asked before assuming it was pink and—“
“Blue,” he says. “It’s blue, isn’t it?”
She smiles gently. “Yeah. It is.”
“What are you doing here?” he questions. The entrance is on the opposite side of where they are now.
I can’t tell him I kept thinking about him so much that somehow I found myself walking here. She peers over his shoulder at the photobooth. “What about you?”
“I…” Am a lot more like you than I care to admit, “…was going to take a photo.”
Confusion flashes in her eyes, but her smile grows wider as she catches his lie. “Alone?”
He glances inside the booth, then back at her. “Not anymore.”
Another familiar sound — the three clicks of a camera — calms the snaking feeling, and he knows the photo that the machine spits out, he’ll keep along with the bottle of her laughter.
The corridors are strangely empty for the many thoughts Kusuo is hearing as he makes his way to class. As usual, it’s Teruhashi this, Teruhashi that. Recently he feels as though he’s hearing more of it, but that may be the fault of her infiltrating his own thoughts. He’s certainly enjoying the barren hallway to his classroom, at least–
“Saiki?! Are you and Teruhashi dating?” One of his classmates practically attacks him. Students flood into the hall, surrounding him in a ring.
Where on Earth did they get that—
“Someone saw you together the other day!”
He shoves a newspaper cover in Kusuo’s face. With how hard he’s clutching it, it’s hard to read, but he makes out the headline. ‘Teruhashi Kokomi seen with new beau!’
(Kusuo is not named, but he does not mind that at all.)
There’s another bad quality photograph beneath the text, of a boy with pink hair and antennae with his face blurred out (arguably the least memorable part of him) and Teruhashi, hugging a lumpy blue cat plushie, lips curved softly. Behind her golden shine is the lineup of arcade machines on wildly patterned carpet – what the photo could not capture, however, were the sounds he’d committed to memory. The song of the games, the distant crashing of bowling pins knocked over, and especially, the genuine laughter of the beautiful woman that chipped away at his heart.
“So? Are you!?”
The Kokomin Committee must have covered up his and Teruhashi’s supposed ‘child’ enough that this is news to these guys. He doesn’t dignify them with a response.
As he forces his way to his class, he slides open the door expecting his desk to be either vandalised or missing entirely. Surprisingly, it’s perfectly intact in the centre of the room. Even more surprisingly, there’s a cup of gourmet coffee jelly waiting on top.
The blue-haired girl behind the luxurious treat smiles and waves at him.
Kuboyasu and Kaido are standing by the door. The former elbows Kusuo, hissing out, “Dude, what happened?”
Kaido says, “Is this why you looked so unimpressed when we were talking about Saiko?!”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he just always looks like that,” Kuboyasu replies. “Anyways, man, if you’re seriously dating you should watch out.” The Kokomins might really start a riot!
Kusuo ignores the warning. They’re not dating, but even if they were, the Kokomins seem to have no issue with him. He doesn’t mind them that much either, as long as they remember their shared enemy. (Although, after reading Teruhashi’s mind, he doesn’t think Saiko will be much of a problem.)
His eyes drift towards the coffee jelly, or perhaps the girl behind it, he’s not sure, but whichever it is, he thinks the 500 yen he spent on an arcade token was worth it.