Archive of Our Own

Fujinaga Sakuya had always been a crybaby when he was young. Every single time the slightest inconvenience happened, he cried. So, he built up a facade (one where he curled his hands into tight fists and glared with the eyes of a madman). He had put on this act for years, ever since he was bullied as a kid for crying over every little thing.

Growing up, Sakuya turned into quite a handsome guy. But instead of being popular for his looks or tall stature, towering easily over most of his peers, he was notorious because of rumors: rumors that he was a hardened delinquent. You’re asking why? Because he had bright pink hair. In reality, Sakuya was just a kid full of whimsy. He loved the color pink, that was a given, but aside from embracing that side of himself, he was remarkably well-spoken and loved reading books, especially murder mysteries and dark academia. He was typically quiet, like any normal teenager, but at school, he kept his walls up so no one would discover his soft interior.

Now, aside from being whimsical, he also had a chubby cat named Potato. A fat calico. Potato didn't like him that much. Not because the cat actually hated him, but because he had a very low tolerance for being touched. Still, Sakuya couldn’t stop cuddling his little baby, because Potato was just so cute and round. Potato is a very important character in this story, but yes, walk with me.

Going back to the beginning of the story, Sakuya was about to leave for school when Potato sat down beside the genkan. Sakuya loved giving Potato kisses before leaving, especially since the cat somehow smelled like strawberries. So, he blew a few raspberries on the cat’s tummy. Potato was not amused. What happened next was nothing new: he swiped at Sakuya’s face, leaving a scratch that bled a lot.

"Oh my goodness, bad Potato, bad baby! Look at that, your big brother’s face is bleeding. My handsome boy’s face!" Mama Fujinaga scolded Potato while gently applying ointment to Sakuya’s cheek.

"Mama, I can do it myself. I’m already grown up," Sakuya sighed deeply. He was already late for his first period, but what could he do when his mom insisted on mothering him?

Mama Fujinaga gently patted Sakuya’s arm. "What do you mean 'grown up'? To me, you’re still a baby, both you and Potato. Even if Potato is being a bad little brother right now." She placed a neat white bandage over his scratch. "Now off you go."

"I’m going to be late. I have my part-time shift at Uncle Tsubasa’s place later, by the way." He leaned in to kiss his mom and Potato goodbye.

"Alright, just text me later! I’ll leave dinner on the table for you, okay? Take care, my handsome boy."

"Bye, Mama! Bye, Potato... see you later!"

It was a fine morning with just a minor hiccup, but as it turned out, there were plenty more inconveniences waiting for him.

He arrived during the second period, before the teacher had walked in. He scanned the room with his usual icy glare, though the bandage on his face did not exactly help his tough-guy image.

Hirose Ryo, the class president, and a few classmates paused, stunned by his arrival.

"What’s his deal?" Riku whispered to Ryo and Yushi. "Word is he leads a gang that terrorizes kids from other schools. Look at him, he’s got a fresh cut on his face."

Ryo cut them off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "You two don’t even talk to Fujinaga-kun, yet you’re so quick to judge."

"Well, he doesn’t talk to anyone either! Is it really that bad to repeat what everyone inside and outside of school is saying?"

"Yes, it is. So no judging, Yushi-kun. You too, Riku-kun, drop the nonsense." Ryo rolled up a sheet of paper and lightly tapped both of their heads with it.

With the teacher still absent, Ryo mustered up his courage, walked over to Sakuya’s desk, and stood beside it.

Sakuya’s cold expression instantly began to melt, the tips of his ears flushing a deep red. Oh my god, he’s so small, so cute, so pretty with those soft ginger curls and dusting of freckles... he looks like a Maltese! Oh god, now I want to adopt one. Sakuya felt close to fainting as he looked down at Ryo's smaller frame, but he managed to keep himself from panicking outwardly.

"Yes?"

"If you’re struggling to catch up, let me know. I took notes during the previous lesson. Here." Ryo placed his notebook neatly onto Sakuya’s desk.

"Ryo-kun..."

"And if you ever run into any problems, just tell me. I am your class president, after all. I know we weren’t in the same class last year before the shuffle, but I’m here to help you whenever you need it."

"Thanks..." Sakuya mumbled shyly, barely knowing how to process the moment.

Sakuya had harbored a massive crush on Ryo since their first year. They hadn’t shared a class back then, but Ryo was a hardworking student who always stood out: he stood up to bullies, and even though he was small, he carried himself with confidence. Now that they were third-years and had been classmates for a few months, Sakuya couldn’t stop daydreaming about Ryo finally noticing him. And that day had finally arrived. He was so overjoyed his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. He wanted to pull Ryo into a tight hug and squeal, "For me? You were thinking of me?" But no, he couldn’t do that. Sakuya Fujinaga had a reputation to uphold, and he couldn’t come across as overly friendly.

"You’re welcome, Fujinaga-kun..." Ryo lingered for a second and offered a warm smile, sending a jolt of pure warmth straight through Sakuya's chest. Sakuya squeezed his hands into tight fists under his desk just to stop himself from beaming back.

Then Ryo turned and walked back to his seat. Sakuya desperately wanted to hold his hands and thank him properly, but for now, this sweet interaction was more than enough.

Later that afternoon, he headed to his uncle’s flower shop near the school. Tsubasa was a forty-year-old gay man who ran the boutique. Recently, he had come up with the wild idea of using a store mascot: a full-body Rilakkuma suit that handed out single roses to passersby and customers. Naturally, Sakuya was the designated victim for this scheme. The funny thing was, Sakuya actually enjoyed it. Even though it was sweltering inside the suit, he could just relax and be himself. Plus, it kept him away from all the ridiculous school rumors, which he was well aware of, thank you very much, but really, who cared?

"Sakuyaaaa-kun, are you ready for today’s shift?" Tsubasa asked, looking at his nephew with fond eyes. To him, Sakuya was still the little boy who used to follow him everywhere, even if he now put on a front of total nonchalance.

"Yes, Uncle. How many roses are we giving away today?"

"Maybe fifty? And you can keep one for yourself if there’s someone special you want to give it to. Or I could whip up a custom bouquet for you... for that Hirose-kun you’re always talking about."

Sakuya’s face flushed bright red, and Uncle Tsubasa chuckled with delight at having another queer kid in the family. Either way, he was happy to be there to guide Sakuya through it all, and he’d happily go to bat for the boy even if his sister, Mama Fujinaga, ever gave him trouble.

"Agh, stop teasing me! He doesn’t even like me like that, so let me just get to work. And I’m only handing out thirty, because who gives away their entire stock for free? Are you even running a profitable business here?"

"Fewer questions and more work, my favorite part-timer. Your rich uncle has plenty of budget to spare."

Sakuya rolled his eyes beneath his bangs, stepped outside, and began his shift as usual. He expected it to be a completely ordinary afternoon, but then, completely out of nowhere, Ryo appeared.

Ryo stopped right in front of him, holding his arms open wide in an unsaid request for a hug. Sakuya froze, utterly stunned.

"Are only little kids allowed to get hugs?" Ryo asked, looking up at him with pleading puppy-dog eyes. He must have noticed Sakuya hugging the small children who walked past with their parents.

"Of course not... Do you really want one?" Sakuya mumbled, his voice muffled behind the giant bear mask.

Ryo gave a sweet nod and opened his arms once more. Sakuya leaned down into the embrace. Despite the height difference, Sakuya pulled Ryo close, and for a fleeting moment, all the noise of the surrounding street completely faded away.

Inside the plush suit, Sakuya’s heart was hammering so loudly he was convinced Ryo could hear it. Ryo sighed softly, leaning his forehead against the mascot's chest. "You know... I’ve had a really tiring day, bear-san. But this helps a lot."

Sakuya froze, panic flaring. He couldn't speak in his normal voice, or Ryo would instantly realize who was inside! Carefully, Sakuya reached into the basket resting by his side, pulled out one of Uncle Tsubasa’s finest long-stemmed red roses, and gently pressed it into Ryo’s hands.

Ryo blinked, looking down at the rose in surprise before letting out a quiet, surprised laugh. "For me? Thank you." He held the flower delicately, brushing his fingers over the petals. "You know, someone in my class has bright pink hair, just like the aesthetic of this flower shop. He acts tough, but... I think he’s actually really gentle. I wish he’d talk to me more."

Sakuya’s brain completely stalled out. Is he talking about me?! Me?! Sakuya Fujinaga?!

Before Sakuya could internally combust or break character, Ryo offered one final, gentle squeeze around the mascot's waist, stepped back, and gave a sweet wave. "Thanks for the hug, bear-san! See you around!"

As Ryo walked down the street holding the rose, Sakuya stood outside the flower shop like a statue, his mind racing and his face burning hotter than the inside of the plush mascot suit.

That night, Sakuya barely slept a wink. He tossed and turned in bed, replaying Ryo’s soft words inside his head like a sacred mantra. He thinks I’m gentle. He wants to talk to me more. The sheer realization sent waves of excitement rushing through him, sending him pacing back and forth across his bedroom floor until dawn.

For days afterward, Sakuya spent every free moment mentally rehearsing scenarios, scribbling out draft after draft of what to say, and trying to practice a friendly expression in the bathroom mirror, only to give up when his face kept twitching into an awkward grimace. Yet, armed with the knowledge that Ryo did not despise him, Sakuya knew he couldn't hide behind a suit forever. It took nearly two weeks of agony, sweaty palms, and intense pep talks in the hallway before he finally mustered every ounce of courage he possessed.

He spotted Ryo standing near the hallway windows during recess, talking with Riku and Yushi. Sakuya’s heart beat frantically against his ribs, but he forced himself forward, his tall frame naturally casting a shadow over the three of them.

Riku and Yushi instantly went rigid, taking a wary step back as the notorious delinquent approached. Ryo turned around, his eyes widening in complete shock when Sakuya stopped right in front of him.

Sakuya tightly clenched his fists at his sides to hide his trembling hands, glaring intensely at the floor just to keep from blushing.

"Um... Ryo-kun," Sakuya grunted, his voice sounding far harsher and stiffer than he intended. "Can I... have your phone number?"

The hallway seemed to go dead silent. Riku dropped his pencil case, and Yushi’s jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. Ryo stood frozen, his cheeks flushing pink beneath his dusting of freckles as he looked up at the towering, pink-haired boy.

For a few agonizingly awkward seconds, no one moved, until Ryo stammered, "M-My number?"

Sakuya gave a quick, tense nod, his ears burning red under his bangs. He stood stiffly as Ryo pulled out his phone, hands shaking slightly as they exchanged numbers in total, stunned silence.

That evening, Ryo gathered his courage and sent a cheerful text first:

Hi Fujinaga-kun! It’s Ryo. I’m glad we exchanged numbers today. Don't hesitate to text me if you need any help with class notes or homework! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

Across town in his bedroom, Sakuya stared at the screen and completely melted down. He drafted twenty different bubbly replies, agonized over exclamation marks, panicked about sounding too clingy, deleted everything, and paced the floor until his knees shook. Four hours later, terrified of saying the wrong thing, Sakuya finally hit send:

Got it. Thank you.

When Ryo read the message late that night, the cute emoticon on his previous text suddenly felt intensely embarrassing. The reply read like a cold military dispatch. Ryo pulled his blanket up over his nose, a knot of doubt tightening in his chest.

In reality, Sakuya spent the next two weeks practically vibrating with anxiety. Every morning, he promised himself he would walk over to Ryo’s desk and say a proper hello, maybe even ask what kind of snacks Ryo liked. But the second he took three steps toward the front of the classroom, his mind went entirely blank.

His facial muscles froze into their automatic, terrifying scowl. He would loom over Ryo’s desk, hands balled into tight fists in his pockets to keep them from shaking, staring fixedly at the top of Ryo’s head while his brain screamed into the void. To Ryo, it looked like Sakuya was silently cornering him every single day, trying to intimidate him into submission.

Whispers trickled through the hallways. Riku and Yushi hovered near Ryo’s desk constantly, shooting wary glances toward Sakuya’s corner. Ryo tried to brush them off, but as the days dragged on with Sakuya hovering silently and glaring down at him, Ryo’s patience wore down to a thread. He felt humiliated for ever believing the tall, pink-haired boy was gentle.

The misunderstanding reached its breaking point one rainy day when Ryo came to school pale, shivering, and visibly exhausted. Fever radiated from his skin, making his usual dusting of freckles stand out sharply against his drained complexion. Despite his illness, Ryo doggedly attempted to organize class documents at his desk, his petite frame trembling under the weight of sheer stubbornness.

Sakuya spent the entire morning watching Ryo suffer from across the room, his own stomach twisting in knots. Unable to bear it any longer during lunch break, Sakuya waited until the classroom emptied out. With trembling hands, he crept over to Ryo’s desk and carefully set down a bottle of warm water, fever-reducing medicine, and a small, hastily scribbled sticky note:

Please take these and rest. Don't push yourself so hard.

As Sakuya turned to leave, the classroom door slid open. Ryo stood in the doorway holding a stack of papers, his ginger curls damp from the rain outside. He froze, his heavy eyes darting from the medicine on his desk up to Sakuya’s towering height. Ryo’s chest heaved with shallow, frustrated breaths. He dropped the papers onto a nearby table, his shoulders shaking with built-up exhaustion and confusion.

"What are you doing, Fujinaga-kun?" Ryo’s voice was raspy, laced with a mix of fatigue and hurt.

Sakuya flinched, instinctively curling his hands into tight fists and glaring at the floor to hide his panic, a terrible habit that only made him look furious. "I... I just brought water. You look terrible."

Ryo swallowed hard. The blunt insult, following two weeks of silent intimidation, snapped the last thread of his composure. He wiped his burning brow, tears of exhaustion and anger pricking his eyes.

"Is this a joke to you?" Ryo asked, his voice shaking with raw hurt. "Did your friends dare you to mess with the class president? Did you just want to see how long you could make me sweat?"

Sakuya’s throat caught. "N-No, that’s not..."

"Because I actually thought..." Ryo cut himself off, his voice cracking into a bitter whisper. He looked down at the medicine bottle on his desk and let out a trembling, self-mocking laugh. "Never mind. I was an idiot for giving you the benefit of the doubt. You follow me around, you make everyone think I'm your target, and now you stand there glaring at me like you want to hit me."

Ryo looked up, his glossy eyes locking onto Sakuya with absolute exhaustion.

"You honestly creeped me out. Just leave me alone."

The words struck like a physical blow.

Sakuya stood frozen as Ryo dragged his feet past him, sank heavily into his desk chair, and buried his face in his hands, trembling with fever and frustration.

Looking down at the boy he loved so dearly, Sakuya felt the familiar, dreaded stinging behind his eyes. For years, he had buried his crybaby instincts beneath clenched fists and a terrifying glare. But right now, his fists slowly uncurled, dangling uselessly at his sides. Big, hot tears welled over his lashes and began streaming down his cheeks in absolute, helpless silence.

He didn't look tough. He didn't look dangerous. He was just a heartbroken boy standing in an empty classroom, realizing that his fear of being seen had destroyed the only person he ever wanted to hold close.

Choking on a quiet sob, Sakuya spun around and bolted out the sliding door before Ryo could lift his head from his hands.

He didn't stop running until he reached his house. Overwhelmed with shame and heartbreak, he knew he couldn't face his mother's questions with his eyes swollen red. In a fit of teenage dramatic grief, Sakuya packed an overnight bag, coaxed a deeply suspicious and grumbling Potato into his pet carrier, and fled straight to Uncle Tsubasa’s cozy apartment above the flower shop.

If anyone understood heartache, it was his uncle. For the rest of that day and the long weekend that followed, Tsubasa played caretaker to a giant, inconsolable boy. Sakuya had spent hours face-down on Tsubasa’s sofa, weeping into Potato’s plush calico tummy while Potato swiped lazily at his pink bangs. Between bites of strawberry parfaits that Tsubasa kept buying to cheer him up, Sakuya rambled through endless sniffles about how he was a clumsy monster who had terrified the sweetest boy in school. Tsubasa had listened with patient affection, gently wiping his nephew’s tears and memorizing every detail about this mysterious, angelic class president named Hirose Ryo.

When the new week arrived, Sakuya brought a placated Potato back to his mother's house and returned to school, carrying Ryo's parting words like a sacred, painful decree.

Just leave me alone.

The phrase echoed in Sakuya’s skull like a tolling bell. So, he vanished. Or at least, he tried his absolute hardest to become a ghost.

Whenever Ryo walked into the classroom through the front entrance, Sakuya slipped silently out the back. If Ryo was seated at his desk grading papers during recess, Sakuya glued himself to the far corner of the library behind towering stacks of historical encyclopedias. If their paths risked crossing in the hallway, Sakuya’s eyes would go wide with panic. He would violently pivot on his heel and march in the exact opposite direction as if the linoleum floor had caught fire.

He was giving Ryo what he asked for. Sakuya told himself it was the only decent thing to do. He was an intimidating creep in Ryo's eyes, so he would stay entirely out of the boy's sight.

The problem was, this pissed Ryo off to no end.

Ryo’s fever had finally broken after a miserable, bedridden weekend. His body was still recovering, but his mind had cleared, and the haze of sickness was replaced by a sharp, gnawing pit of regret. Every time he replayed that rainy day in his head, his stomach twisted into painful knots. He had snapped. He had let high school gossip and his own feverish exhaustion dictate his temper, and he had thrown Sakuya's well-meaning gesture right back into his face. He had called him creepy.

Now, seeing Sakuya sprint away whenever they shared the same breathing room was driving Ryo up the wall.

"Is he serious?" Ryo muttered under his breath one afternoon, his knuckles turning white around his student council clipboard.

Across the courtyard, Sakuya had just stepped out from the vending machine alcove holding a carton of strawberry milk. The exact second Sakuya’s eyes made contact with Ryo's, Sakuya froze. He flinched like a startled fawn, tucked the milk carton tight under his arm, and turned around to bolt.

"Hey! Wait!" Ryo yelled, dropping his usual composed demeanor.

Sakuya did not wait. He ran.

"Fujinaga-kun, STOP!"

Ryo sprinted across the cobblestone pathway, his ginger curls bouncing wildly. Ryo was small and nimble, but Sakuya had long legs propelled by pure adrenaline and panic. Sakuya rounded the corner near the gymnasium with shocking speed.

"Fujinaga-kun! Just listen to me for one second!" Ryo panted, skidding around the brick corner right behind him.

The corridor was completely empty. There was only a row of metal lockers, a locked janitor's closet, and the staircase leading to the rooftop. Sakuya had vanished into thin air, having successfully wedged his tall frame into the narrow gap behind a massive stack of rolled-up gymnastics mats in the shadowed corner.

Ryo came to a halt, resting his hands on his knees as he wheezed for breath, sweat beading across his forehead.

Frantic, heavy footsteps echoed behind him.

"Ryo! What are you doing?!" Riku shouted, sliding to a stop beside him with Yushi right at his heels. Both of them looked as if they were expecting a crime scene.

"Are you insane?!" Yushi gasped, grabbing Ryo’s shoulder to inspect him for injuries. "Why on earth were you chasing the delinquent?! Did he threaten you again? Did he steal something from you?!"

"He didn't steal anything!" Ryo snapped, exasperated and utterly out of breath. He dragged his uniform sleeve across his forehead. "I just wanted to talk to him!"

"Talk to him?!" Riku's mouth hung open. "Ryo-kun, he looks like an enforcer who could snap someone in half! The whole courtyard watched you run after him like you had a death wish. Just keep your distance before he really loses his temper!"

Ryo looked at his two well-meaning friends, his chest aching with a frustration he couldn't put into words. "You don't understand," Ryo murmured, looking down at his scuffed school shoes. "Neither of you get it at all."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Riku and Yushi exchanging troubled, bewildered looks.

By the end of the week, Ryo was utterly miserable. The guilt weighed on his chest like lead. He hadn't been able to focus in class, he had barely touched his bento, and every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the memory of Sakuya’s wide, stricken face before he ran out into the rain.

Aimlessly wandering through the shopping street near school, Ryo let his feet carry him toward the boutique on the corner. The vibrant display of pastel blossoms and the calming aroma of eucalyptus welcomed him, but what truly caught his eye was the familiar, oversized fluffy brown figure standing on the sidewalk.

The Rilakkuma mascot.

A sudden wave of relief washed over Ryo, so intense that his eyes stung. Needing comfort more than anything, he dragged his tired feet over and stopped right in front of the giant plush bear.

Inside the suit, Sakuya froze solid.

No, no, no, not here, not now, Sakuya panicked, his heart hammering in his throat. He had specifically volunteered for the mascot shift today thinking he could hide from everyone! After spending the entire school week dodging Ryo like a coward, here Ryo was, standing inches away from him, looking pale, exhausted, and fragile.

Ryo lifted his arms, gazing up at the mascot with pleading, misty eyes.

"Bear-san..." Ryo whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Can I have another hug? Please?"

Air caught in Sakuya’s throat. Even with his heart battered and bruised, he could never deny Ryo anything. Carefully, his padded hands trembling beneath the costume, Sakuya wrapped his giant plush arms around Ryo and pulled him in against his chest.

The second Sakuya’s arms settled around him, Ryo let out a shaky, shuddering breath and buried his face in the mascot’s soft tummy. His fingers gripped the plush fabric tightly, clinging to it as if he might fall over without it.

"I messed up so badly, bear-san," Ryo choked out, his voice muffled by the fur. "I was so horrible to someone."

Inside the suit, Sakuya’s eyes widened.

"There's this boy in my class," Ryo continued, his voice wavering with deep remorse. "I was running a fever and exhausted, and everyone kept feeding me awful rumors about how dangerous he was. When he tried to bring me medicine, I got scared and defensive. I snapped at him. I said the nastiest things I could think of... I told him he crept me out. I told him to leave me alone."

A small, choked sob escaped Ryo’s throat, his slender shoulders shaking against the bear’s chest.

"And now... he actually listened to me. Every time he catches sight of me, he runs like he’s terrified. He won't even breathe near me. I made him feel like a monster when he was just trying to show me kindness. I didn't mean any of it. I just want to apologize to his face, but he won't let me get close enough to say I'm sorry."

Inside the dark, hot mascot head, big, silent tears spilled over Sakuya’s eyelashes.

He didn't hate me.

He didn't think I was a monster.

A lump formed in Sakuya’s throat so thick it made breathing difficult. Relief, sorrow, and affection rushed over him in equal waves, and helpless, silent tears began streaming down his cheeks. He tightened his grip on Ryo, his whole frame trembling beneath the padding.

He wanted nothing more than to tear the bear's head off, throw his arms around Ryo, and blurt out, "I'm right here! I'm sorry too! Please don't cry!" But his voice was so choked with tears that if he dared speak, only an embarrassing wail would emerge, giving him away in the most chaotic way possible.

From behind the boutique's glass front door, Uncle Tsubasa stood watching the scene unfold.

It took him less than three seconds to connect the dots. Remembering Sakuya's dramatic weekend on his sofa, sobbing into Potato while eating parfaits and detailing the exact appearance of the boy he was in love with, Tsubasa took one look at the delicate, ginger-haired boy with freckles currently crying into the mascot's belly.

Ah, Tsubasa smiled softly to himself. So this is Hirose Ryo.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Tsubasa carried a single, pale pink carnation neatly wrapped in tissue.

"Excuse me, sweetheart," Tsubasa’s calm, melodious voice drifted over the sidewalk.

Ryo jumped slightly, quickly stepping back from the bear and wiping his damp cheeks in embarrassment. "Ah... I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to make a scene outside your shop..."

"Nonsense, darling. You have nothing to apologize for," Tsubasa replied warmly, holding the pink blossom out toward him. "This flower shop is always open to anyone carrying a heavy heart. Here. A pink carnation. In the language of flowers, it means 'I will never forget you,' but it also symbolizes gratitude and fresh beginnings."

Ryo looked down at the soft petals, a faint blush warming his cheeks as he accepted the stem with both hands. "Thank you... that is very kind of you, sir."

Tsubasa then turned and rested a firm, knowing hand onto the Rilakkuma’s padded shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Alright, bear-san," Tsubasa announced, his voice bubbling with gentle humor. "Your break time started five minutes ago. Head into the back room and take that heavy suit off before you melt in this heat."

The mascot gave an awkward, stiff nod, trembling from head to toe, and quickly turned toward the boutique's rear door, slipping inside before his sobs could soak through the costume's inner lining.

On the pavement, Uncle Tsubasa turned back toward Ryo, his eyes twinkling with friendly mischief.

"Now then, Hirose-kun, isn't it? Why don't you come inside for a warm cup of chamomile tea while you catch your breath?"

The boutique was quiet, filled with the gentle, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock and the soothing scent of fresh eucalyptus, sweet peas, and warm steam.

Seated on a velvet armchair in the corner of the shop, Ryo cupped the warm ceramic mug of chamomile tea with both hands. The steam brushed against his nose, chasing away the remnants of his tears. Across the small glass coffee table, Uncle Tsubasa sat gracefully, legs crossed, smiling with an aura of tranquil elegance.

"Feeling a little more grounded, sweetheart?" Tsubasa asked, his voice soft like a lullaby.

Ryo nodded shyly, looking down into the pale golden liquid. He still held the delicate pink carnation carefully resting on his lap. "Yes... Thank you so much, sir. I really didn't mean to make an embarrassment of myself on your doorstep."

"Life is far too short to apologize for having an open heart," Tsubasa replied, waving a manicured hand dismissively. "Besides, our mascot is very popular with people carrying heavy burdens. He has a rather enormous heart, you know. Sometimes, so big that he doesn't know what to do with all the feelings bubbling inside it."

Ryo blinked, gazing out toward the closed rear door where the mascot had vanished earlier. "He really was so warm. When he hugged me... it felt so safe. Like he understood every single thing I couldn't say out loud."

Tsubasa’s lips curled into a knowing, affectionate smile. "Sometimes the people who look the most intimidating or hide behind the biggest barriers are the ones who feel the most tenderly. They fumble. They say the wrong words. They panic and shut down. But deep underneath all that armor, their loyalty is absolute."

Ryo’s heart gave an unexpected, sharp thud against his ribs.

Why did those words immediately bring Fujinaga Sakuya to his mind?

For the rest of the evening, long after he had finished his tea and walked home, Ryo could not shake the feeling. He sat at his study desk with his history notes laid out, but his pen remained completely motionless. His gaze kept drifting to the pale pink carnation resting in a slender glass vase by his lamp.

Whenever he shut his eyes, his mind replayed the hug on the sidewalk.

The bear had been tall. In fact, standing against it, Ryo had barely reached the center of its chest. The mascot's frame beneath all that plush batting had felt solid, broad-shouldered, and sturdy. But more than that, Ryo remembered the way the bear’s arms had wrapped around him: trembling with pure, desperate devotion, pulling him close as if he were made of fragile spun glass.

Then, unbidden, the image of Sakuya flashed behind Ryo's eyelids.

Sakuya, who towered over the entire class. Sakuya, whose shoulders were broad and whose chest rose and fell in heavy, panicky breaths whenever Ryo stood near him. Sakuya, whose hands were always balled into tight fists just to keep them from visibly shaking.

A rush of heat suddenly flooded Ryo’s cheeks, burning all the way to the tips of his ears.

Why am I comparing them? Ryo thought, burying his burning face in his hands just like he had in the classroom. One is a giant mascot bear, and the other is a boy who runs away like I’m a ghost!

Yet the confusion clung to him all through the following days. The two images kept overlapping in his thoughts, tangling his stomach into knots of sweet, restless anxiety.

One morning the following week, the school hallways were buzzing with the usual clatter of students arriving.

Ryo walked toward the row of indoor shoe lockers, his mind still preoccupied. He slipped off his outdoor sneakers, reached out, and pulled his locker door open.

He froze.

Sitting right on top of his neatly folded gym uniform was a single blossom, a delicate pink carnation wrapped in translucent boutique paper, tied with a thin pastel-pink ribbon.

Tucked beneath the stem was a small, pale blue sticky note.

Ryo’s fingers shook slightly as he reached inside and lifted the note. Written across the paper in neat, heavy strokes that trembled slightly at the edges were three simple sentences:

I am so sorry for scaring you. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable or afraid. Please don't cry anymore.

Ryo stared at the handwriting. It was the exact same script from that rainy day: the neat, bold strokes that had accompanied the fever medicine and warm water.

Then his eyes dropped to the blossom.

The wrapping paper was identical to the tissue Uncle Tsubasa used at the flower shop. The delicate folds, the subtle aroma of eucalyptus and sweet peas clinging to the petals, the neat ribbon...

In an instant, every scattered puzzle piece crashed together in Ryo’s mind with the force of a thunderbolt.

The flower shop was right down the street from school.

The boy in the bear suit had been weeping silently while hugging him.

The broad shoulders. The towering height. The way the bear trembled with quiet sobs the moment Ryo confessed his regrets.

Uncle Tsubasa called him 'Hirose-kun' without Ryo ever introducing himself.

Air snagged in Ryo's throat, his hands freezing over the blue note.

"It was him," Ryo breathed, his eyes wide with shock. "The bear... it was Fujinaga-kun."

Sakuya had been inside that suit the entire time. Sakuya held him while he broke down. Sakuya had listened to Ryo pour his heart out, heard every single word of his remorse, and cried right alongside him in the stifling dark of the mascot head.

A sudden, overwhelming surge of emotion struck Ryo right in the center of his chest: relief, guilt, tenderness, and a frantic panic all at once.

He slammed his locker shut, clutching the flower and the note against his chest like a lifeline. He spun on his heel and rushed into the main hallway, his heart hammering in his ears.

"Riku! Yushi!" Ryo gasped, spotting his two friends by the classroom entrance.

The two boys turned around, surprised by Ryo’s disheveled hair and wild, breathless expression.

"Whoa, Ryo, what's wrong with you?" Riku asked, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"Have you seen Fujinaga-kun?!" Ryo asked, his voice shaking with urgency. "Is he in the classroom? Has he arrived yet?!"

Yushi and Riku exchanged a baffled look.

"Fujinaga?" Yushi frowned, scratching his neck. "Yeah, he was here super early, before homeroom even started. But when we walked into the locker area about ten minutes ago, he was already heading toward the front gates."

"He looked pale as a sheet, honestly," Riku added, crossing his arms. "He had his bag packed and everything. He probably skipped out to go home early, or maybe he's avoiding someone again. Why? Did something happen?"

Ryo didn't hear the rest of Riku's sentences.

He didn't go home.

Ryo remembered Uncle Tsubasa’s words from the other day. He remembered the schedule, the shop on the corner, and Sakuya’s part-time shifts at the boutique.

Sakuya wasn't running home. He was running to the flower shop to hide behind that plush brown mask again, terrified of facing Ryo after leaving the flower.

"I have to go," Ryo whispered.

"Wait, Ryo! Homeroom starts in five minutes!" Yushi yelled after him.

Ryo didn't care. Without breaking his stride, he turned on his heel and bolted down the school corridor, his ginger curls flying behind him and his school shoes skidding across the linoleum.

For an entire agonizing week, Sakuya had been the one running away.

Now, Ryo was going to chase him down, and he wasn't going to stop until he caught him.

Gray clouds had been gathering over the city all morning, heavy with the scent of ozone and wet pavement. Just as Ryo sprinted past the shopping arcade, the sky finally broke open, unleashing a torrential downpour.

Rain pelted Ryo’s face, soaking through his white school uniform and plastering his ginger curls against his forehead. His lungs burned. His scuffed indoor loafers had no grip against the slick asphalt, but he didn't care. His heart was slamming against his ribs, driven by a single, desperate thought: I am not letting him slip away again.

Rounding the corner onto the boutique’s street, Ryo skidded to a halt.

There, just twenty yards ahead, was a sight both completely ridiculous and intensely heartbreaking.

Sakuya had indeed rushed into the mascot suit. Terrified that Ryo would find him at the boutique after reading the locker note, he panicked, threw on the costume to disguise himself, and tried to flee out the boutique's back alley. But a full-body Rilakkuma suit was never built for stealth, and it was certainly not built for the rain.

The plush costume was absorbing the downpour like a gigantic sponge. Weighed down by gallons of water, the bear was waddling frantically down the slick sidewalk, looking like a soggy, oversized stuffed animal trying to escape a hurricane.

"FUJINAGA-KUN!" Ryo yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cutting through the thunder and crashing rain.

The giant bear violently jolted. Inside the suit, Sakuya squeaked in pure terror. He tried to pick up speed, but with the heavy, soaked padding, each step sounded like a wet mop hitting the pavement: slosh, slosh, squelch.

"Stop running, you idiot!" Ryo shouted, surging forward.

Within seconds, Ryo closed the distance. He grabbed a handful of the bear's waterlogged plush arm and pulled with all the strength in his small body.

"Whoa—!"

Thrown off balance by the soaked weight of the suit, the mascot stumbled. With an ungainly thud, the giant plush head slipped completely off Sakuya’s shoulders, tumbling onto the wet asphalt and splashing in a puddle.

There stood Fujinaga Sakuya.

He was trapped from the neck down in a ridiculous, dripping brown bear suit. His vibrant pink hair was completely soaked, plastered across his forehead and dripping water into his wide, terrified eyes. His cheeks were flushed scarlet, and his chest heaved in ragged, panicked gasps.

For a second, neither of them moved. The rain hammered relentlessly against the concrete around them, roaring in the narrow street.

Then, Sakuya completely broke down.

His fists clenched tightly inside the bulky plush sleeves. Big, hot tears welled up and spilled over his eyelashes, mixing instantly with the raindrops cascading down his face.

"I'm sorry!" Sakuya blurted out, his voice cracking into a desperate, choked sob. "I'm so, so sorry! I'm sorry for scaring you! I'm sorry for being weird and creepy and staring at you like a lunatic! I'm sorry I left the flower in your locker, I didn't mean to make you feel cornered, I just... I couldn't bear the thought of you crying because of me!"

Ryo stood frozen, his eyes wide, his school shirt clinging to his shivering frame.

"I understand if you despise me!" Sakuya rambled through frantic sniffles, shutting his eyes tightly as if bracing for an execution. "I know I look like a monster, and I know I ruined everything! You don't ever have to look at my face again. I'll transfer classes, I'll take the long way to school, I'll never breathe near you again, I swear! Just please... please don't hate me, Ryo-kun... please..."

His tall, broad shoulders shook violently under the soaked costume. He looked so utterly devastated, so completely stripped of every tough-guy rumor that had ever followed him, that Ryo felt his own chest ache until it was unbearable.

He really thought I wanted him gone.

He was ready to disappear completely just to spare my feelings.

Ryo didn't say a single word.

Instead, he stepped directly into Sakuya’s space. Water splashed beneath Ryo's shoes as he closed the last few inches between them. Reaching up with both hands, his fingers tangled into the drenched, soft pink strands of Sakuya’s hair.

Sakuya’s eyes snapped open in bewilderment. "R-Ryo-kun—?"

Ryo pulled him downward.

The moment their lips met, the roar of the alley seemed to drop away entirely.

The cold rain streaming down Sakuya’s face seemed to vanish, replaced by the searing, intoxicating warmth of Ryo’s mouth pressing firmly against his own.

The kiss was slow, hesitant, and completely tender.

Ryo rose onto his tiptoes to keep the angle, his small, cold fingers gripping the back of Sakuya’s neck, holding him steady. Sakuya could feel the gentle tremor in Ryo’s lips, the soft exhale of air that ghosted against his cheek, and the sheer, overwhelming sweetness of it all. Every thought inside Sakuya’s head evaporated on the spot. His knees went weak against the sodden padding of the suit, and for a second, he forgot to breathe.

He forgot the rain. He forgot the street. He forgot his own name. There was only Ryo: freckled, brave, impossibly warm, and kissing him like nothing else in the world mattered.

When Ryo finally parted from him, it felt like being pulled out of a dream.

Ryo’s breath came in shallow, misty puffs between them. His freckled cheeks were flushed a bright, feverish pink, glowing even through the gray sheets of rain. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his amber eyes were locked onto Sakuya’s with a fierce, unwavering intensity that made Sakuya’s chest thump uncontrollably.

"Listen to me, Fujinaga Sakuya," Ryo panted softly, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, but entirely devoid of doubt.

Sakuya could only blink down at him, lips parted and tingling, completely dazed.

Ryo grabbed the zipper of the bear suit with one trembling hand, his knuckles brushing against Sakuya’s collarbone. He looked up into Sakuya’s tear-stained face with a pout that was half-scolding, half-longing.

"You don't get to run away anymore," Ryo whispered, his voice steadying with sudden, possessive authority. "You don't get to transfer classes. You don't get to hide behind lockers, or gym mats, or giant stuffed animals. And you definitely don't get to disappear from my life."

Ryo reached up with his thumb and gently brushed away a tear clinging to Sakuya’s cheekbone, his touch lingering against the soft skin.

"You're mine now," Ryo declared, blushing furiously even as a tiny, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So you’re staying right where I can see you."

The scandal began the very next morning, well before the homeroom bell even rang.

Fujinaga Sakuya had walked through the front sliding door of Class 3-B. But instead of slinking into the room with his eyes locked onto the linoleum, and instead of curling his hands into tight fists to hide his trembling, he was standing at his full, imposing height.

Even more scandalous: he was carrying two bags. His own navy school tote, and a neatly pressed yellow bookbag that clearly belonged to someone much smaller.

Right beside him, practically glued to Sakuya’s side, was Hirose Ryo.

Ryo’s freckled cheeks were dusted with a light, continuous blush, but his head was held high. Whenever Sakuya leaned down to whisper a quiet question, Ryo would look up, offer a tiny, brilliant smile, and nod, causing the towering pink-haired giant to flush a violent shade of magenta.

By recess, the third-year hallway was buzzing with gossip, and Riku and Yushi looked like two men who had witnessed an alien abduction.

Unable to endure the suspense for another second, the two boys cornered Ryo by the window while Sakuya was over by the teacher's podium turning in homework.

"Ryo," Riku hissed under his breath, his eyes darting frantically toward Sakuya as if checking for sudden sniper fire. "Blink twice if you are under duress. Did he blackmail you? Did he find out where you live?!"

"Are you being brainwashed?! Is this a hostage situation?!" Yushi whispered urgently, grabbing Ryo by both shoulders. "Why is he holding your bag?! Why did he hand you a warm carton of strawberry milk with a straw already unwrapped?!"

Ryo let out a long, fond sigh, gently batting Yushi’s hands off his blazer. He smoothed his collar with the absolute, unshakeable authority only a seasoned class president could muster.

"Listen to me carefully, both of you," Ryo announced, his voice clear enough that several eavesdropping classmates instantly perked up their ears. "Fujinaga-kun is not in a gang. He does not terrorize other schools. And he is certainly not blackmailing me."

Riku and Yushi blinked in tandem. "Then... what is going on?"

Ryo squared his shoulders, a bold, defiant pink spreading across his cheeks. "He is my boyfriend. We are dating."

Dead silence fell over the classroom. A girl in the second row dropped her mechanical pencil, the sharp click echoing like a gunshot. Riku’s jaw fell open so wide it looked unhinged, and Yushi let out a wheezing gasp like a deflating balloon.

"Your... your what?!" Riku squeaked.

"You heard me," Ryo said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "He is my boyfriend. I really don't care what rumors are floating around the school, but none of them are true. And furthermore, high school graduation exams are in three months! Instead of inventing delinquent conspiracies about the sweetest boy in this school, the two of you need to focus and study hard so we can all pass together! Understood?"

"The... sweetest... boy?" Yushi echoed numbly, staring at Ryo as if the class president had lost his mind. "Ryo-kun, look at his cheek! Look at that fresh bandage! He must have fought someone in the back alleys this morning before homeroom!"

At that exact moment, Sakuya finished handing in the class assignments and walked back over to Ryo's desk. Hearing the tail end of the sentence, Sakuya’s ears burned red under his messy pink bangs.

Ryo looked up at his giant boyfriend and let out an exasperated giggle. "Oh, you mean that cut? That wasn't from a street fight. It was from Potato."

Riku froze. "Potato? Is that... is that the leader of the rival school's syndicate?!"

"Potato is my cat," Sakuya mumbled softly, his voice remarkably gentle, totally devoid of the harsh growl everyone had feared for years. He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks pink. "He is a fat calico. He has very round cheeks and a low tolerance for affection, but he smells like strawberries. I was so excited this morning about walking to school with Ryo-kun that I tried to give Potato celebratory raspberries on his tummy, and he swiped my face. Again."

Riku and Yushi stared at Sakuya with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"A... fat cat?" Yushi asked slowly.

"Yes," Sakuya nodded, his eyes suddenly lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "He weighs seven kilos. He looks like a freshly baked loaf of bread when he loafs on the rug. He is extremely cute."

Within ten seconds, the entire tough-guy myth evaporated into thin air.

"Wait, seven kilos?!" Riku asked, leaning forward with sudden, genuine fascination. "Does he really smell like strawberries? Do you have pictures of him?!"

"I have over two thousand photos," Sakuya answered with immense, deadpan pride, already reaching into his uniform pocket to pull out his phone. "Here. This is Potato sitting inside a cardboard box that is clearly two sizes too small for him."

"Whoa, look at that chunker!" Yushi gasped, crowding over Sakuya’s screen with Riku. "Look at his grumpy little face!"

Watching his two best friends immediately bond with Sakuya over cat pictures, Ryo stood beside his desk, his arms crossed and his lips puffing into an indignant pout.

"Wait just a minute!" Ryo protested, his voice rising in an adorable squeak of jealousy. "That is completely unfair! I haven't even met Potato yet! Sakuya texted me about him all night yesterday, sending paragraph after paragraph, and now you two get to see his baby pictures before me?!"

Sakuya looked over at Ryo, his golden-brown eyes wide with panic at the thought of having upset his new boyfriend. "A-Ah! Ryo-kun, no! I can show you all two thousand right now! Or... or you could come over to my house this afternoon? For our study date? You could meet him in person!"

Ryo looked at Sakuya’s flustered, apologetic expression, and the pout melted instantly into a shy, dimpled grin.

"Okay," Ryo agreed softly, his amber eyes twinkling. "A study date. But Potato better like me."

An hour after the final bell rang, the two of them were standing in the genkan of the Fujinaga residence.

It was officially their first date, and both of them were so profoundly nervous that neither boy knew what to do with his hands. Sakuya had spent the entire fifteen-minute walk sweating profusely through his uniform jacket, desperately trying to figure out if he was allowed to hold Ryo’s hand in broad daylight. Ryo, on the other hand, had been chewing his lower lip raw, his fingers clutching his study notes so tightly the paper was creased.

Before Sakuya could even untie his shoes, heavy, rapid footsteps clattered down the hallway.

"Sakuya! Is that you?!"

Mama Fujinaga skidded into the entranceway, an apron tied around her waist and a spatula still in hand. She took one look at the petite, ginger-haired boy standing beside her son, and her jaw dropped in pure ecstasy.

"Oh my goodness!" Mama Fujinaga gasped, clasping her hands to her cheeks. "It's him! The angel from your photos! You actually brought him home!"

"M-Mama, please!" Sakuya squeaked, his voice cracking into a mortified pitch as his entire face turned the color of a ripe tomato. "Please don't embarrass me, I beg of you!"

"Nonsense!" Mama Fujinaga stepped forward, beaming with pure delight as she grabbed Ryo’s hands and squeezed them gently. "You must be Hirose-kun! My handsome boy has done nothing but talk about you for months. 'Mama, Ryo-kun has freckles like cinnamon! Mama, Ryo-kun stood up to a senior today! Mama, Ryo-kun's laugh is like little silver bells!'"

"MAMA! STOP TALKING!" Sakuya groveled, burying his face in his hands, his tall frame practically folding in half from agonizing shame.

Ryo, whose face was burning equally red from hearing Sakuya’s poetic diary entries read out loud, couldn't help the melodic chuckle that bubbled from his chest.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Fujinaga," Ryo bowed politely, smiling sweetly. "Sakuya has told me so much about you, too."

"Oh, what a polite darling!" Mama Fujinaga swooned, wiping an imaginary tear. "Tsubasa called me earlier and told me everything! Look at you two, so adorable! Welcome to the family, son-in-law! I am making melon soda and strawberry shortcake for your study session, make yourselves at home!"

With a joyful hum, she spun on her heel and practically danced back toward the kitchen.

Sakuya slowly peeked through his fingers, looking down at Ryo with utter dread. "I am so sorry," Sakuya whined miserably, his shoulders drooping. "My family has zero boundaries. I swear I didn't tell her to call you son-in-law..."

"I didn't mind it," Ryo murmured shyly, nudging Sakuya's arm with his shoulder. "It was cute. Now... where is Potato?"

As if summoned by his name, a heavy, rhythmic padding echoed from the living room rug.

A gargantuan, round ball of tricolor fur trotted into the entranceway. Potato had a chubby, flat face, stubby calico legs, and an expression of profound, permanent annoyance with the universe.

"Potato!" Sakuya gasped, his eyes lighting up. But then he quickly threw an arm out protectively in front of Ryo. "Wait, Ryo-kun, be careful! Don't make sudden movements. He hates strangers, he hates loud noises, and he especially hates being touched by anyone he hasn't approved through an eight-week trial period—"

Potato walked directly past Sakuya’s legs, ignoring his owner completely.

He trotted right up to Ryo’s socks. The round cat sniffed Ryo’s loafers, looked up with big, round golden eyes, and let out a tiny, delicate "mrp?"

Ryo gasped, instantly crouching down onto his knees. "Oh, look at you! You're so round! You really do look like a sweet little loaf!"

Carefully, Ryo extended a gentle finger.

Instead of hissing, swiping, or biting, Potato immediately shoved his chubby cheek right against Ryo’s knuckles, purring with the intensity of a revving tractor engine. Within seconds, the fat cat flopped straight onto his side across Ryo’s shoes, exposing his soft, strawberry-scented white belly without an ounce of shame.

Sakuya stood frozen in the hallway, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

"He... he never lets anyone touch the tummy," Sakuya whispered in absolute, stunned disbelief. "I have lived with him for four years, and I have seventeen scars to prove it. How... why does he love you instantly?!"

"Because animals know who has good taste," Ryo giggled happily, burying both hands into the plush calico fur and giving Potato the scratching of a lifetime. Potato’s eyes fluttered shut in sheer heaven, kneading his paws in the air.

Ten minutes later, the two of them settled on the carpet around the low wooden table in Sakuya’s bedroom. Sakuya had gladly tossed aside his stiff school blazer in favor of a soft, oversized knitted sweater, while Potato firmly planted his heavy, seven-kilo body directly across Ryo’s lap, acting like a fluffy, purring weighted blanket that pinned Ryo in place.

Their history textbooks and practice exam sheets were spread out between them alongside two tall glasses of melon soda, but actual studying had proven almost entirely impossible.

"I don't think I can turn the page," Ryo whispered with a soft laugh, resting one hand on Potato’s plush side while trying to hold his highlighter with the other. "If I move, I'll disturb the king."

Sakuya sat across the corner of the table, his tall legs folded neatly under him. He was supposed to be reviewing modern Japanese history, but he hadn't read a single line in fifteen minutes.

Instead, he was just watching Ryo.

The afternoon sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window, catching in Ryo’s ginger curls and setting them aglow like spun amber. A gentle breeze rustled the sheer curtains. Ryo looked so small, so comfortable, and so completely at ease in Sakuya’s room, with Potato purring on his lap and his freckled nose scrunched in concentration.

Sakuya’s chest swelled with a feeling so intense, so sweet and overwhelming, that his throat tightened.

He's really here, Sakuya thought, his heart doing nervous gymnastics against his ribs. He's not running away. He didn't disappear.

Ryo must have felt the heavy gaze. He lifted his head, his amber eyes locking onto Sakuya’s.

"What are you looking at, Fujinaga-kun?" Ryo asked softly, a faint, teasing smile curving his lips. "You haven't written a single answer on that worksheet."

"I was just thinking," Sakuya murmured, his voice dipping low and honest.

"About what?"

"About how much I like you," Sakuya said simply.

The blunt sincerity struck Ryo like an electric shock. The teasing smile softened, and Ryo’s cheeks flared with that lovely, familiar pink blush. "You're... you're getting entirely too bold, you know that?"

"Can I come closer?" Sakuya asked, his voice trembling slightly with that sweet, gentle hesitation that Ryo adored.

Ryo looked down at the snoozing cat on his lap, then looked back up at the boy with the pink hair and the enormous heart.

"Yes," Ryo whispered.

Carefully, so as not to startle Potato, Sakuya slid across the rug until he was sitting right beside Ryo. Their shoulders brushed. The subtle scent of fresh laundry detergent and sweet strawberry pastries drifted between them.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Sakuya looked down at Ryo's soft, parted lips, his breathing catching in his throat.

Then, gathering every ounce of courage he had ever possessed in his life, Sakuya leaned in.

It wasn't like the rain kiss, which had been born of desperate relief and wild adrenaline. This was quiet, tender, and impossibly sweet.

Sakuya tilted his head and snatched a soft, lingering kiss right against Ryo’s lips.

Ryo let out a soft, startled gasp against his mouth, but almost instantly, his eyelids fluttered shut. Ryo leaned upward into the touch, his fingers lightly bunching the hem of Sakuya’s soft knitted sweater, pulling him an inch closer. Sakuya’s lips were warm, gentle, and reverent, tasting faintly of sweet melon soda.

When Sakuya finally pulled back by a mere inch, his cheeks were burning furiously, but his eyes were shining with pure, golden happiness.

Ryo opened his eyes, breathless, a tiny, dazzled pout resting on his pink lips.

"You're supposed to be studying, Fujinaga-kun," Ryo panted softly, though his fingers never let go of Sakuya’s sweater.

Sakuya smiled: a genuine, dimpled smile that completely erased every tough-guy rumor that had ever existed. He reached up, gently brushing a soft ginger curl behind Ryo’s ear, his thumb tracing the curve of Ryo's cheek.

"Exam prep can wait five minutes," Sakuya whispered, leaning in again. "My class president is much more important."

Beneath them, Potato let out a deep, contented purr, fast asleep between the two boys who had finally found their way home.