Archive of Our Own

Toya has never been called out of class before.

As he taps a not-so-steady rhythm against the armrest of the wooden chair he’s waiting in, he tries to think about what could’ve caused this. Did they call him down for an academic reason? Surely not, his grades are okay. Was he being accused of something? Had he accidentally witnessed a crime? Was he going to be expelled? Why would I be expelled?!

The office door finally budges, and out steps the one person Toya had been hoping not to see.

“Toya?” Ms. Sasaki calls, the door to his left creaking open with the music teacher’s voice. “You can come in, now. Please.”

Toya fights off a sigh, the urge to slouch deeper into his chair and simply melt away overtaking him. “...Okay.”

He stiffly rises and follows her into her office, sitting back down in a slightly more comfortable chair across from the teacher’s desk.

“So!” Ms. Sasaki says cheerfully, settling down in her own chair and facing Toya with a pleasant expression. “Toya. How have you been lately?”

“Fine,” he mumbles, hands clamped underneath his legs. This meeting has barely begun and he already desperately wants it to be over with.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she muses. “I wouldn’t know, considering you never show up to our lessons.”

Toya winces. Of course. “I’m sorry…” he trails off, not quite sure how to explain that he just doesn’t need the lessons she requires every music student to take once a semester.

“It’s alright, I get it,” Ms. Sasaki says. “However, I can’t let you keep getting away with it. And I know you won’t go to any lessons from here on out, so… I have a different solution.”

Great. “Okay?”

“There’s a talent show coming up, and one student has approached me recently asking if I knew anyone who could play a piano accompaniment for his audition.”

Toya freezes in place, rhythm going still as he blinks up at his teacher, finally meeting her gaze. “You-”

“I told him I would send someone over after school today. This will be a good opportunity for you, Toya.” She smiles. “You don’t interact with your peers very often. Think of this as a way to make a friend. And also the only way to save your current grade in orchestra.”

“You’re kidding,” Toya mutters, only belatedly realizing it might sound a bit rude. “I mean-”

“Don’t worry,” Ms. Sasaki cuts him off. “I understand it’s not the ideal situation, but I thought it would be better than scheduling extra lessons you won’t show up to. Just go to the orchestra room after school. He should be there.”

Toya finds himself nodding. How the fuck is he gonna explain this to his father?

+++

Toya is hesitant when he sets his hand on the orchestra room door.

He doesn’t know who’s waiting behind it, for one. He can easily name at least a dozen kids in his music classes he would rather not have the displeasure of interacting with if he doesn’t have to. And what if they’re hard to work with? What if they’re terrible? What if they hate him? What if-

He pushes the door open.

The orchestra room is small, despite the large number of students making up the class. Chairs are crammed together so tightly you can barely turn your sheet music without bumping into the kid sitting next to you, and it’s hard to focus when you can practically hear every breath the people around you take. And worst of all, there’s one grand piano shoved into the corner, so out-of-tune it almost physically pains Toya to play it. He hates this room. He hates the class. And most of all, he hates that he’s here when he could be at home, with his own piano, hating it all just a little bit less.

The one thing that’s out of place as Toya walks into the room is the head of orange hair seated at the piano bench, surrounded by empty chairs. The boy looks up as Toya enters, and his eyes go wide once he realizes why he’s there.

“Shit, seriously?”

Toya blinks. Huh?

The boy runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “She sent you? Shit. I was hoping she would send someone bad.”

Toya isn’t sure if he should leave or not. “Uh…”

The orange-haired boy shakes his head once more, sighing as he gestures Toya over. “Whatever, it’s fine. Sorry about all this, come sit down.”

Toya does, albeit reluctantly. And even though the piano bench is definitely long enough for both of them to fit if they sit close enough together, he seats himself in the chair next to it (which is only a little bit further away).

“I’m Akito,” the boy introduces himself. “And you’re Toya.”

“Um. Yeah.”

Akito Shinonome. Toya recognizes him now that his brain has caught up with him. As a musician, the boy is known for his talents in both singing and dancing. As a person, he’s known for his hot temper, his position on the soccer team, and the rumor someone spread about him a few years back that causes him to spend most of his time alone. Awesome. I’m stuck with the outcast.

“Sorry about this, man, seriously,” Akito continues apologizing, seemingly oblivious to Toya’s analytical stare. “I didn’t think Sasaki would send the fucking prodigy in here. You probably have better things to do, this is a total waste of time. You can leave, if you want.”

Toya mulls this over. He could leave, but then where would he be? Back at home, hating it all a little bit less because he’d be too busy cramming his head with his father’s mundane practice regimen. He hates this class and he hates that he’s here, but at least it’s new. At least it gets him away from what he hates the most.

“No,” he says quietly, definitively. “Don’t be sorry.”

Akito blinks up at him, finally meeting his gaze. “But-”

“What are you performing?”

At this, the boy’s face embraces a light dust of pink. “Uh- It’s nothing super cool. Just some solo piece I’ve been working on for choir.” He clears his throat. “I can’t really pronounce the name anyway.”

Toya shrugs. “Can I see the music?”

Akito hands the sheet music over without a word. The piece is fairly simple. So simple, in fact, that Toya could definitely learn it by himself within thirty minutes. He doesn’t need to be here at all - he could just show up the day of the audition and play it perfectly.

He says none of this.

“Alright. Give me a minute to figure it out,” he tells Akito, and the boy stands up so Toya can take his place on the piano bench.

Sure enough, he has the first two pages down within five minutes. The rest of it looks to be mostly repetition, save for one slightly more complicated part towards the end. He turns to Akito, who has been watching him silently the entire time.

“You can probably leave. I’ll have this learned within the next hour.”

“...You know I have to sing this, right?”

Toya winces. Shit, I almost forgot. “Oh, yeah.”

Akito grins as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head like he’s been sitting for hours. “‘S fine, man. I’ve got soccer practice in, like, ten minutes. Why don’t we meet at my house tomorrow after school? Our piano is way better than this one.” He pauses. “Ah, shit, wait. I’ve got practice tomorrow too-”

“I can wait.”

Toya is almost surprised by how easily the words tumble from his lips, too quickly to stop them. But if he thinks about it, just for a moment, it’s not that hard to believe. More time away from his home means more time away from his father. More time away from the expectations that suffocate him every time he steps through his own door. And his father would hate for him to fail any of his classes, so he can’t say no.

Akito shoots him another lopsided grin. “Sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Toya nods. “Tomorrow.”

+++

Dinner at the Aoyagi household could very well be considered an extreme sport.

There’s a certain way to do everything. A way to ask for the salt, a way to begin a conversation, a way to end it. And when you’re Toya, the rules change every other day. Staying silent is usually his best bet, but today he doesn’t exactly have that luxury.

So he waits for the right time. Not when they sit down. Not until he’s at least halfway through his own meal and his brothers have gotten seconds. Not until everyone else has already discussed something that doesn’t involve him.

There’s eventually a lapse in the conversation, a moment where his father brings his glass to his lips and silences the table. Now.

“So,” Toya starts, eyes on his plate, “I won’t be home until late tomorrow.”

Nobody says a word. His father finishes his drink, wipes his mouth. Looks at Toya. “You missed an hour of practice today.”

“I know,” Toya replies, and he wills the volume of his voice to steady. “But Ms. Sasaki said this is the only way I can pass orchestra without attending lessons.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“No!” Toya looks up sharply, before realizing he raised his voice. Shit. “Uh- I mean.” He averts his eyes, unable to look at his father for too long. “I already asked if there was any way to get out of it. I can’t.”

His father is silent, and it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking without looking. Toya can practically feel the judgment oozing off of his brothers as he waits for a reply.

“Then I suppose there’s nothing to be done,” his father finally says. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your own practice.”

“It won’t,” Toya confirms, fighting a pleased smile.

Thank you, Akito.

+++

Toya has never cared for sports.

At an all boy’s school, you would assume every student is involved in some sort of athletic activity, but Toya is one of the few exceptions. Akito, however, is not. So now Toya is stuck sitting on a hill, grass tickling his ankles to the point of annoyance, watching soccer practice play out before him.

And he tries to ignore the way his eyes follow Akito, but the boy is a ball of energy, impossible to look away from. He darts all over the field, always to be found no more than five feet away from the ball unless he’s yelling for someone else to pass to him.

He also took his shirt off about twenty minutes into practice. Toya fails to ignore this too.

But because Toya has been watching him so intently, it’s not hard for him to notice right away that something is wrong. Not with Akito, per say, but with everyone else.

Nobody will pass the ball to him.

It’s like they’re afraid to let Akito touch it. Whenever Akito appears next to someone who has the ball, they send it sailing away, only for the boy to chase after it and let the process start all over again. He’s the last one to be picked for drills. He’s the last one off the field and first one back on. He spends his breaks alone, no more than a water bottle and an adjustment of his cleats to keep him company.

No wonder he’s in such good shape. He’s running twice as much as everyone else.

Toya tries to ignore all this, too, but he can’t help wondering why Akito’s teammates basically avoid him like the plague. Why it bothers him so much.

It must be because of the rumor.

That’s truly the only explanation. Akito doesn’t appear to be causing any problems, at least from what Toya can see. It’s the other boys, the way they all congregate without him like it’s a familiar part of practice.

It’s hell to watch.

When the coach finally blows the last whistle of the afternoon, it doesn’t take long for Akito to pack up - after all, no one gets in his way. No one talks to him after practice, no one asks him if he wants to get ramen or tea or hang out and play video games or do homework. No one stops him as he runs up the hill towards Toya, breathing heavily and smelling distinctly of sweaty boy in a way that makes Toya wince when he finally stops in front of him.

“Ready to go?” Akito asks.

And Toya wants to ask him about practice, ask him why he lets the others treat him like that, why he doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t. Instead he nods, rises to his feet, and accompanies Akito on his walk home. The only thing he successfully ignores is the smell of grass stains and sweat.

Akito doesn’t put a shirt on the entire way home and Toya is trying not to glance over every so often and neither of them are talking and it’s awkward. He wants so badly to break the silence, but he can’t think of anything to say other than Hey, why don’t you ever get mad at those guys? So he lets the silence hang between them until they finally reach Akito’s house.

And it’s small. Smaller than Toya’s mansion, though that’s really not saying much. But when they walk in, Toya feels like he’s been engulfed by a warm hug. Weird. He’s so used to feeling like the air of his own home wraps its rough hands around his neck and strangles him every time he steps inside its walls. He almost doesn’t know what to do.

“My room’s this way,” Akito says. “You’re not hungry, are you?”

Toya shakes his head and follows the boy up to his room. And if walking into the house was like being hugged by an overexcited aunt, walking into Akito’s room is like being caught in a bubble and floating through a million warm embraces. It’s just so comfortable. There are posters plastered over practically every blank space on the walls, pillows thrown all around the room, messy blankets falling off the bed, a desk cluttered with sheet music full of highlights and pen markings, paint-chipped shelves that serve as a display for books and figurines as they collect dust. The overhead light Akito flips on when they enter produces a faint orange glow as it fills the room. The whole thing feels like walking into a sunset.

Toya faintly decides Akito can never see his house. It would suck the life out of him. Or kill him. Probably both.

“I gotta take a shower quick,” Akito says, rummaging through his dresser to find clean clothes. “You can just wait in here.”

So Toya sits on Akito’s bed (sinks into it, really) and watches Akito leave. Once he hears the water begin to run, he rises back to his feet and starts looking around. No harm in checking things out, right? Not like I’ve got anything better to do.

Every book in Akito’s room that isn’t some sort of textbook is covered in at least an inch of dust - the boy clearly doesn’t read very often. He seems to focus more on music, which doesn’t surprise Toya at all. The sheet music that lies in every crevice of the room is marked to no end, every measure containing some sort of reminder, every margin holding a messy doodle, every page sporting a myriad of highlighted sections. The dedication is palpable as Toya sifts through the pages, each one wrinkled with countless hours of practice. Some are scribbled through all the way to the end, others seem to have been given up on halfway through, but each and every one speaks to Akito’s love for music.

Toya is about to ditch the sheet music inspection in favor of the musicians spread across the walls, but something stops him in his tracks. A faint sound, barely heard over the rushing of water, distinctive enough to catch his attention.

Akito is singing.

It’s hard to tell exactly what he’s belting out through the walls, but it’s something upbeat and fresh, something Toya’s never heard before, something perfect for Akito. And Toya suddenly realizes he’s never heard the boy sing before and he wonders how? How could I have been missing out on this? How have I gone my entire life, wading through pools and pools of music, without discovering this particular sound?

So there he is. Standing in the middle of Akito’s room, surrounded by Akito’s things, listening to Akito’s voice as it drifts down the hall. And Toya thinks this. This is perfect.

“Can you shut the hell up?!”

Toya jumps about two feet in the air at the sudden yell.

“Fuck off!” Akito’s voice cuts through, but the singing stops and Toya wants to run into the bathroom and tell him to keep going, but of course he doesn’t. He has some scrap of dignity left in him, after all.

A girl stomps out into the hall, a large, paint-stained t-shirt hanging off her shoulders, a smudge of red paint across her ear where she presumably pushed her hair back. She glances around, noticing Toya standing stock still.

“Who are you?” She demands, mouth forming a confused pout as she angles her wet paintbrush at him.

“Uh- Toya. Aoyagi.”

“...And what are you doing here?” She looks him up and down. “Akito never has friends over.”

“I’m just helping him with a school thing,” Toya explains, feeling nothing short of scrutinized.

She blinks. “Hm. That makes more sense.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing back into her room with a slam of her door. And Toya thinks she seems nice, if not intimidating. Must be Akito’s sister.

Akito doesn’t sing for the rest of his shower, and Toya doesn’t look around anymore. He doesn’t hear anything more from Akito’s sister either, so he pretty much just sits in place until Akito comes back.

Without a shirt on. Again. And Toya fails to ignore it. Again.

He feels stupid watching Akito throw a hoodie on, face definitely a few shades darker than it was moments ago. When the boy turns back around, looking like he’s waiting for a response to something Toya definitely didn’t hear, Toya blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“What were you singing?”

Akito pauses. “...Huh?”

“In the shower. It was… uh.” Toya swallows. “You sounded good.”

Akito stares at him for a second before turning around so fast Toya can’t even properly gauge his reaction. “Oh. Uh. It was nothing, just some song I heard the other day.”

“Was that your sister? Who told you to stop?”

“‘Stop’ is putting it lightly,” Akito mutters. “But yeah, that’s Ena. She’s kind of a jerk sometimes, but she’s fine.”

Toya nods. He knows a thing or two about rude siblings, but definitely not in the same way Akito does. It hits him then, that he and Akito live completely opposite lives. The only thing remotely similar about the two of them is their love for music and their lack of company.

“Anyway,” Akito continues, “if you wanna get started, the piano is back downstairs. Follow me.”

Toya once again follows Akito out of his room, through the hall and down the steps, all the way to a small room tucked away beside the kitchen. There’s one piano pushed off to the side, a few bins full of binders containing more sheet music and practice books lying idly next to it, about a dozen or so family pictures strewn about the room. Toya tries not to look at those for too long.

“It should be tuned up,” Akito says, gesturing to the piano as Toya sits down. “My mom plays sometimes.”

“Cool,” Toya replies, running his fingers along the keys. He plunks out a few notes, and then a few chords, and then tries a few bars of the music. It’s in good shape.

“D’you wanna start from the beginning?” He asks Akito.

The boy nods, clearing his throat. The shower must’ve been a warmup, Toya thinks. He doesn’t need the sheet music after spending time memorizing the piece yesterday. He simply plays the intro to the song, anticipating Akito’s entrance.

Akito starts to sing, and it’s entirely different from the way he sounded in the shower. Not any worse, really, but drastically more mellow. He sounds sad, even though the song isn’t entirely depressing. He sings of willows and creeks and the song is slow, yes, but not sad. Toya is unsettled. He feels his fingers stumble along the keys and halts his playing altogether.

Akito’s voice cuts away. “...Uh. You good, man?”

“Why are you singing this?” Toya asks, turning to face the boy.

Akito cocks his head to the side. “Huh?”

“This song,” Toya gestures to nothing in particular. “You don’t… you sound…” He isn’t sure how to explain it. “...Why don't you just sing what you sang earlier?”

Akito laughs, and to Toya it sounds almost as nice as his voice. “Dude. That’s totally not choir material-”

“But this is a talent show. You can sing whatever you want.”

The orange-haired boy watches Toya, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his worn hoodie. “...You really think I sounded better in the shower?”

“Yes.”

“...And you would be willing to learn the song?”

“Yes.”

Akito stares at him a second longer, before shaking his head. “Shit, what am I saying? I can’t sing that in front of everyone.” He lets himself fall onto the bench beside Toya and the latter boy is very aware of the way their knees bump together, their arms pressing against each other.

“Why not?” He asks, eyes finding the keys in front of him.

“People will laugh.”

“Who cares?”

Akito glances at him. “Toya. Man. I know people don’t mess with you because you’re, like, a prodigy or whatever. But it’s not like that for me.”

“Like soccer practice,” Toya whispers before he can stop himself.

Akito shrugs. “...Yeah. Like soccer practice.”

The silence between them hangs heavy on their shoulders, and Toya once again doesn’t know what to say to break it. He doesn’t want to mention the rumor, wants to pretend it doesn’t exist. But how can he convince Akito to adopt that sound, that sound that’s so perfectly free, so perfectly him, without bringing it up?

“I’m hungry,” Akito says suddenly. “Want any leftovers?”

And just like that, the boy is on his feet and already moving to exit the room. Toya scrambles to follow him, grateful for the distraction (even if it brings up the entirely new issue that yes, he is hungry, and he hasn’t really eaten since he practically inhaled the sandwich he brought for lunch).

As Toya sits at the small dining table, Akito begins pulling bowls and plates out of the refrigerator, all wrapped in some sort of tinfoil. He gently lifts enough of the cover to peek inside and see what lies there, before either grimacing and putting it back or shrugging and leaving it on the counter until he’s down to one plate and a bowl.

He looks up at Toya. “Okay, so we’ve got chicken or cheesecake, but I’m pretty sure there’s cup ramen in the cabinet. We could always just go out somewhere, too.”

“Cheesecake?” Toya questions, more to himself than Akito.

The boy lights up. “Yeah, dude, it’s leftover from my mom’s birthday. It’s got strawberries on it but you can pick ‘em off. Want some?”

He looks so eager, like he wants Toya to say yes so badly, that Toya doesn’t even consider rejecting the dessert. As soon as he nods, Akito shoves everything else back in the refrigerator, tears the foil off the cheesecake, and cuts two of the biggest slices Toya’s ever seen in his life onto separate plates.

Akito sits next to Toya at the table, presenting him with both a fork and a slice of cake. “It’s really good, dude, we got it from this bakery down the street and-” He cuts off, blinking. “...And I sound totally uncool.”

“No,” Toya shakes his head, a little confused. “It sounds nice.”

Akito pauses at that, letting a small smile grace his lips. “...Yeah. It is.”

So Toya and Akito eat cheesecake for dinner and talk about school and music and every light topic they can think of. It’s lovely, really, to be sitting at this little table in this blanket of a house and freely saying whatever comes to his mind. Toya wants to get used to it, so he offers to come over the next day.

And the next. And the next. And before he knows it, Toya has been walking home with Akito every day for an entire week, getting to know the boy and his house and his voice and avoiding his father every time he returns home. He even has a few conversations with Ena, ones where he says more than two real sentences, and when Akito introduces him to his mother as “Toya, my friend”, he starts to feel like maybe this house has a little space carved out for him. Like maybe he could fit in here.

And he supposes Akito is his friend, as reluctant as he is to admit it. They just… work. The two of them, to Toya, are like coffee and cookies. They’re just fine without each other, but when they’re together they’re so much better. It feels so much better.

Toya sits at school that Friday, thinking back on yesterday’s visit to Akito’s house. They had barely spent any time working on the talent show piece, Toya having it memorized and Akito seemingly struggling with even performing the piece at all.

“I don’t really wanna do it, man. After what you said the other day… it just doesn’t feel right.”

So instead of addressing it, they play video games in Akito’s living room and Akito yells loud enough for Ena to curse him out, they walk to the bakery down the street and eat cheesecake while watching people pass by outside the window, they make cup ramen and Toya burns his fingers on the boiling water and Akito gives him band-aids with little cartoon characters on them that he swears he tells his mom not to buy, they sit on Akito’s floor and show each other new music, they lounge around and talk. No matter what they’re doing, it’s always fun and comfortable because it’s the two of them.

So when a chime rings out to signal the beginning of lunch, Toya grabs his bento and rushes over to the classroom next to him, where Akito should be.

Where Akito isn’t.

He looks around for a head of orange hair, something that should stick out like a sore thumb, but he finds nothing. He taps the shoulder of the kid closest to him, someone he doesn’t recognize.

“Do you know where Akito is?” He asks.

The kid raises his eyebrows. “No. Why would you even wanna hang out with him?”

“Yeah, Toya,” someone else he doesn’t recognize chimes in. “You should stay away from him. He might-”

Toya walks away before the boy can finish, already searching the hallway for any sign of Akito. He can’t believe he’s never thought to ask Akito where he eats lunch before, can’t believe he’s never thought to join him. So he looks and looks for the entire lunch period, peering in and out of classroom after classroom, receiving strange looks and head shakes and exasperated sighs every time he asks for Akito’s whereabouts. When the chimes finally ring out to signal the end of lunch, Toya still hasn’t found him.

He decides to ask him after school.

+++

“Why d’you wanna eat lunch with me?”

Akito asks what could very well be considered the obvious as they walk to his house after another unbearable soccer practice. Today had been something especially brutal, a practice match that split the team in two and left Akito on the bench with one other kid who refused to sit near him. Toya had so badly wanted to run down to the field and sit on the bench with him, but he knew Akito would’ve hated that. So he had simply watched from afar, legs folded in as he tried not to think too much about it.

“Because we’re friends,” Toya answers.

“Yeah, outside of school,” Akito mutters. “I don’t wanna ruin your reputation.”

“I don’t care about my reputation.”

“Because it’s never been fucked with. If people really…” Akito sighs. “If people didn’t like you anymore, you would want things to go back to how they were before.”

“Not if I’m with you.”

“Toya, c’mon. I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Akito scrubs a hand over his face, and Toya suddenly feels bad for pressing it. “Look,” the boy sighs. “If you start hanging out with me at lunch, people will talk.”

The rumor. Toya says nothing.

“And I don’t want you to go through all that,” Akito continues, “because it’s ass, and you don’t deserve it. So just keep eating lunch wherever you eat it and don’t try to find me again, okay?”

+++

Toya walks onto the roof for lunch that Monday to find Akito sitting alone, staring out through the railing he leans against. The boy jumps when Toya opens the door, sandwich almost slipping from his grasp.

“Toya?” He all but stammers, eyes wide.

“Hey,” Toya says, shutting the door behind him and traveling over to sit next to Akito, opening his bento like it’s a familiar routine, the two of them up here, eating together.

“What’re you doing here?” Akito asks.

“Eating,” Toya replies shortly, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth to emphasize his point. As he chews, he glances over at Akito to find his friend practically frozen in place.

“You should leave,” Akito says, “before people find out.”

“I had to ask basically everyone to figure out you were up here,” Toya says, swallowing, “so I’m not sure how much of a difference that would make.”

“Dude. Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. I’m surprised anyone knew where you were at all.”

Akito looks rather distressed when Toya glances at him again. “You really don’t care about what people think? Or say?”

Toya shrugs. “Not really, if I get to hang out with you.”

He’s too focused on eating to notice the light blush that overtakes Akito’s face.

+++

Toya knows people talk. He’s not an idiot, as oblivious as he may seem sometimes, so he notices the way his peers start to stare at him throughout the week, whispering behind their hands.

“D’you think-”

“He wouldn’t-”

“Are they-”

Luckily, living with the family he does has allowed him to build up a thick skin over the years. He really doesn’t care about what people say, definitely not as much as Akito thought he would. It’s not like he ever cared about any of these guys anyway. They can gossip as much as they want.

So one week of lunch turns into two, which turns into three and then a month and then two months. And Toya is enjoying it all, taking everything in stride. Things don’t get any better for Akito, but they also don’t get worse. The two of them continue to work together, both on the talent show piece and in every other venture they take.

One afternoon they’re in Akito’s room, Akito lying on his bed and tossing a soccer ball in the air while Toya sits on the floor, struggling through his math homework, and the former boy releases an uncharacteristic sigh.

“Toya,” he says, and Toya sets his pencil down, grateful for a distraction. “I think I’m gonna do the shower song.”

“Really?” Toya asks, and he can’t fight the smile that slips onto his lips.

“Yeah,” Akito confirms, sitting up. “I mean. It should be fine if it’s both of us, right?”

Toya nods, smile now directed at Akito. “Right.”

“So we should practice.”

“Now?”

“Now. Before I lose my nerve.”

So they do. Akito prints the sheet music out and sits next to Toya as he learns the piece, fingers clunky as they explore the tune, finding the melody and the patterns in a way that is entirely new to him - he’s never learned anything but classical music before. He simply never had a reason to. But now he does, and that reason has gone quiet as the sun sets through the window behind them.

Toya is so focused on the sheets in front of him that he barely notices Akito’s silence until he feels a small weight drop onto his right shoulder.

He freezes. Orange strands tickle the side of his neck, startling and comforting and Toya’s brain is going fuzzy as he glances over, Akito’s sleeping face barely visible from this angle. He feels warm all over, fingers stumbling to a stop atop the keys, focus anywhere but the music before him. It feels nice to have Akito leaning against him like this, secure enough to let himself fall asleep on Toya, like he belongs there. And Toya feels a sort of fondness wash over him, like the final lap of a wave across a shore, the final snapshot of a sunset before the night turns twilight, the final breath of consciousness before a nap.

Oh.

Maybe Toya wants to be more than Akito’s only friend.

He tries to ignore that thought.

He fails miserably.

+++

Realizing he likes Akito as more than a friend is like jumping into a pool after sitting in a hot tub for hours on end. It’s shocking at first, but he eventually warms up to it. It just makes sense.

But it also means he really has to address the rumor. Maybe not now, but eventually, and that kind of terrifies him because he doesn’t want to remind Akito of it. The moments they spend together are free of stress, a relief from the soccer practices and the classes and the comments Akito puts himself through every day. Toya doesn’t want to ruin that.

So he ignores it - both the rumor and his feelings. He presses them deep down inside himself, locks them in a little box so they can’t escape. And even if that box shakes whenever Akito sings or whenever their arms brush together at the piano bench or whenever his name falls from the other boy’s lips accompanied by a laugh or a sigh or a smile, even if his feelings try to rattle and punch their way out of that box, he ignores it.

They’ve been working on the shower song lately, and with the audition only one week away, they’re both starting to feel the stress. Toya’s piano playing is fine, Akito’s singing is perfect, but they’re worried because what if they pass? What if they pass the audition and they perform at the show and everyone laughs them offstage? It would be so much easier to go back to the choir song. Toya mentions this one night, after they’ve grown too frustrated with the song and decided to go for a quick walk to clear their heads. He doesn’t mean to make Akito reconsider choosing the song, but he thinks that maybe it would be better for them to get it out there.

“True,” Akito agrees, watching the sunset across the horizon to his left. “But the whole reason I’m doing this thing in the first place is to… like…” He trails off, kicking at a pebble. “It sounds dumb but I thought that maybe if I could stand on that stage and face everyone… maybe I could take back some of the control they took. Like. Show them I’m not afraid.” He groans. “That sound so dumb, shit.”

Toya shakes his head, a little bit surprised, a little bit in awe. “No. That sounds really cool, Akito.”

And Akito looks at him, lips slightly parted, eyes searching his face. “If I didn’t know you so well, I would think you’re making fun of me.”

“I would never make fun of you.”

“I know. So thanks,” Akito says with a tiny smile.

Toya wants very badly to grab his hand, to feel their fingers slide together and fit as perfectly as he’s certain they would. But he doesn’t.

+++

“Shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck.”

Toya is muttering to himself as he rushes towards the school building, desperately clutching his binder of music as the pages threaten to rip away with the wind, running at an odd angle to avoid tripping over the shoe laces he didn't have time to tie, ignoring the droplets of sweat forming near his hairline.

He’s late. Of course he’s late. First he had woken up after his alarm, then he had been stopped by one of his brothers on the way out. By the time he finally stepped outside his house, he was already fifteen minutes behind schedule.

So here he is, bursting through the school doors and sprinting towards the orchestra room like his life depends on it, almost thirty minutes late and really hoping Akito won’t hate him for it.

When he stumbles through the entrance to the orchestra room, he finds Akito immediately. The boy is off to the side, checking the time on his phone and looking around worriedly. His face lights up when he spots Toya.

“Sorry m’late,” Toya mumbles, avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the room as he approaches Akito and all but falls into the chair next to him.

“It’s okay, man. I knew you’d show,” Akito replies, but Toya doesn’t miss the way his fingers are just now unfurling from around the crumpled edges of his music.

Ms. Sasaki pops her head through the doorway, attention focused on a clipboard in her hand. “Akito and Toya, you’re up!”

Akito takes a deep breath as they stand and follow her out of the room. The auditions are taking place in the band room, with a board of judges including Ms. Sasaki and two other music teachers Toya doesn’t really care to recognize.

He takes his seat at the piano and Akito stands on the small ‘X’ taped onto the floor nearby. “I’m Akito Shinonome,” he says, voice only shaking the slightest bit. “And I’m gonna be singing.”

Toya doesn’t know if he should introduce himself, but he figures he should just start playing when the judges nod. So he does.

Although his voice had been a little rough during his introduction, Akito almost seems to fall into an ease when Toya begins playing, and when he parts his lips, the sound that comes out is loud and boisterous and natural and Toya can’t help the smile he hides. Perfect.

The judges barely react when they finish, a bright grin from Ms. Sasaki serving as the only indication that they didn’t completely fuck up. And when they both bow and leave the room, Akito immediately turns to Toya and throws his arms around the boy, pulling him impossibly close for a hug.

“We did it!” Akito cheers into his ear, and Toya doesn’t even wince at the volume as he wraps his own arms around Akito. “We actually did it! Fuck yeah, Toya, holy shit!”

Toya simply nods, mind going blank at the way Akito’s fingers dig into his back, the way he is surrounded by Akito’s warmth, the way he never wants this moment to end. He squeezes Akito tighter because he’s proud and comfortable and it’s just so nice, it feels so nice.

“Glad to see you’re making friends, Toya.”

Toya rips away from Akito to see Ms. Sasaki walking by, a pleased grin playing at her face as she throws a wink over her shoulder at him. He feels his face heat up as he digs his hands into his pants pockets, not entirely sure why he’s so embarrassed.

“C’mon, Toya,” Akito says suddenly, not at all fazed. “Let’s go eat cheesecake to celebrate.”

And they do, and it’s perfect because Akito is so incredibly happy about the audition. “We totally made it, Toya, there’s no way they can reject that, we did so well, you felt it too, right?” And Toya simply nods along, heart feeling fuller than it probably ever has as he sits across the table and watches Akito’s cheeks turn pink with excitement as he recalls how it felt to sing so freely, as he compliments Toya’s piano playing and Toya struggles to come up with the proper words to compliment Akito’s own voice, as they sit and eat cheesecake and wonder how they hadn’t found each other until now.

Toya is so happy when he gets home that night that he immediately calls his friend Tsukasa to ask for a favor.

Tsukasa Tenma, until recently, would’ve been the only person Toya considered a real friend. They were practically inseparable growing up and all throughout middle school, and even though they had ended up at different high schools, they still stay in touch enough to consider each other close.

“Toya!” Tsukasa’s exuberant voice fills his ear through the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you tonight?”

“Hey, Tsukasa,” Toya smiles, falling onto his bed. “Is there any way you could get me two free tickets to Phoenix Wonderland?”

Tsukasa laughs that lively laugh of his. “Of course! I mean, technically I’m not supposed to, but if you don’t tell anyone it should be fine. Anything for a friend!”

Toya grins. “Thanks, Tsukasa.”

“No problem!” A pause. “Uh… Might I ask why?”

Tsukasa knows Toya would never bring a family member to the theme park, and last he heard from him, Toya was still a friendless prodigy. “I… met someone.”

“You did?!”

“Yeah. We’re friends.”

“Toya, I could cry!”

“Please don’t.”

They talk for a little while longer, Toya telling Tsukasa all about his time with Akito and the other boy raving about his troupe mates in return. By the time they finally hang up, the sun is far beyond setting, Toya’s eyelids are heavy, and he’s excited to wake up tomorrow.

+++

Toya can’t wait another minute. He’s sat through three hours of school already, and technically there’s only one more until he can see Akito at lunch and tell him what he’s been dying to say all day, but he just can’t wait anymore.

When the chimes sound, Toya bursts from his seat to sprint to the room next door during break time. And sure enough, Akito is sitting alone, tapping through something on his phone as everyone around him engages in conversation that has never involved him.

Toya rushes over. “Akito,” he says, a little breathless, “do you wanna go to Phoenix Wonderland?”

Akito jumps, eyes darting around before finally landing on Toya, like he’s afraid someone will overhear. “You- huh?”

“I got us tickets,” Toya explains, and he’s digging his fingernails into his palms to steady the excited tone in his voice. “We can go tomorrow.”

“Two guys at a theme park?” Akito says, his own voice hushed as he continues to glance around worriedly. “Don’t you think- Well people would think…”

Oh. Toya feels a sudden shame creep up his spine. “Oh. Um. We don’t have to. I- I can give them back.”

“Wait-”

“Sorry,” Toya says quietly. Of course he wouldn’t want to go, it sounds like a date. How did I not realize that? He had just been so excited at the idea of going to a theme park with Akito, of eating greasy food and riding the ferris wheel and playing carnival games. It had completely slipped his mind that Akito might think…

“Toya,” Akito says, interrupting his thoughts as he gently wraps his fingers around the boy’s wrist. “We can go.”

Toya looks up at him, blinking. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Akito says, releasing his arm. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to go. Ena went there with her friend the other day and she said the view is sweet from the top of the ferris wheel-” He stops, biting the inside of his cheek. “But we don’t have to ride it, if you don’t want to! It’s kinda-”

“Akito.” It’s Toya’s turn to cut off the boy’s rambling. “I would love to ride the ferris wheel with you.”

And Akito looks up at him, face definitely a few shades darker than it was at the beginning of the conversation, hands frozen in their wringing. Toya feels fuzzy.

“Careful, Toya. He might think you’re coming onto him.”

And there’s suddenly a needle in this perfect moment, a pebble shattering their glass comfort, something piercing the both of them as Akito looks away and Toya feels himself tense up as he turns around, unable to find the owner of the voice in the sea of laughter that has ensued. How long had they all been listening? Why was it any of their business anyway?

The chimes ring out once more to end break time and Toya looks back at Akito, helpless in the way he can’t think of anything to say, not when it matters most.

“You should go back to class before you’re late,” Akito mutters into his palm, refusing to let Toya see his face.

Toya falters in place for a millisecond longer, before giving in and leaving the room. And he hates it, he hates himself for letting it end like that, but he had felt clammy and nervous and not a word was coming to his mind. He had just wanted to yell, to clear the fog in his head, to grab Akito and run. He’s always preaching about how neither of them should care what anyone else thinks, but now… now Akito thinks Toya does care. He’s probably going to tell Toya he doesn’t want to go to the theme park or tell Toya to stop waiting for him after school and soccer practice or tell Toya he doesn’t want to hang out anymore and no no no that can’t happen I can’t let that happen.

When lunch rolls around, it’s Toya and Akito, side by side, silence hanging over them in the way Toya always hates it does.

“Akito, I-”

“This is what I meant, Toya.”

“...Huh?”

Akito looks away, hands hanging limply in his lap, shoulders slouched. “Everyone’s gonna hate you for hanging out with me.”

“I don’t care,” Toya insists, but he knows it means nothing now.

“Maybe you should,” Akito says quietly. “Maybe… Maybe we should just stop hanging out-”

“No!”

Akito whips around to look at Toya, not quite used to his raised voice despite their months of friendship. Toya grabs his hand in a way he hopes comes across as emphasizing his point rather than an excuse to hold it. “I don’t want to stop being your friend, Akito.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry,” Toya continues, and he can tell he’s about to vomit words everywhere. He hopes it’s not too embarrassing. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say sometimes and I’m sorry I can’t stand up for you, but that doesn’t mean I care about what they say.” He swallows. “I only care about what you think. So if you really don’t wanna be friends anymore, fine, but… you don’t have to protect me or anything.”

And he finally looks up at Akito, their eyes meeting, and the orange-haired boy kind of looks like he wants to cry, sickeningly grateful for Toya’s words. He surges forward, capturing Toya in a hug that sends the latter boy reeling into the railing behind him.

“Fucking idiot,” Akito mumbles into his shoulder. “Of course I still wanna be your friend.”

Toya hugs him back, feeling just a tiny bit guilty for the way he cherishes the feeling of Akito against him, in his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

The box rattles.

+++

The entrance to Phoenix Wonderland is huge.

Toya feels two feet tall standing next to the giant arch, five minutes early to meet Akito and nervously checking his phone every other second. It’s not that he thinks Akito will ditch him, but he does think he looks odd standing here alone.

As he’s considering maybe grabbing popcorn or something to surprise Akito when he finally arrives, a different familiar face approaches, trailed by a few other people.

“Toya!” Tsukasa exclaims, jumping on the boy. Toya almost falls over, but another girl - Nene, Toya remembers - quickly pulls the loud boy off.

“You can’t just attack people like that, Tsukasa,” she mutters.

“But it’s Toya! He’s not just a person, he’s my friend!”

Toya has only met Tsukasa’s troupe a handful of times, but they certainly make an impression, the kind of people you feel close to after only a few minutes of conversation. He’s glad Tsukasa has found such wonderful people to share his dream.

“Hey, Toya!” Emu says, waving her hand a mile a minute in a greeting. Rui, standing behind her, nods in Toya’s direction.

Toya waves back, his smile entertained. “Hey everyone. Do you have a show later?”

“Oh Toya, you just missed it!” Tsukasa says, slinging one arm back over Toya’s shoulder. “You should’ve seen it, I was wonderful!”

“He was awesome!” Emu confirms, eyes alight. “The brightest star in the galaxy!”

“Certainly a sight to behold,” Rui says, a grin on his face.

“Yeah, because he’s the star of every show,” Nene mutters.

Tsukasa laughs. “You all flatter me! Keep going.”

The quiet girl flicks his forehead. “You wish.”

Toya laughs, and it feels nice to be surrounded by people like this (if not also a bit tiring). He used to feel jealous every time he spoke to the group, jealous that he didn’t have something similar for himself, jealous that Tsukasa was lucky enough to find these people so quickly after high school began. He doesn’t feel so bad now.

“Are you waiting for your friend?” Tsukasa asks.

Toya nods. “He should be here any minute, actually.”

“Is that him?” Rui asks, pointing over Toya’s shoulder.

Sure enough, when Toya turns his head to look, Akito is walking towards him, hand raised in a slightly confused greeting as he scans the rest of the group. “Uh. Hey, Toya.”

Toya doesn’t miss the way Akito’s eyes linger on Tsukasa’s arm. “Hi. Everyone, this is Akito. Akito, this is-”

“Tsukasa Tenma, world future star!” Tsukasa cuts him off. “And my friends Rui, Nene, and Emu! We are Wonderland Showtime-”

“Cool,” Akito deadpans, not sounding the least bit impressed. “Are we all hanging out today?”

“No, we were just on our way out when someone just had to talk to Toya,” Nene answers rather unhelpfully.

“He’s my friend!”

“Leave it to our little star,” Rui grins.

“Little?!”

“C’mon, Tsukasa, let’s go to that arcade you mentioned!” Emu says, tugging on the boy’s sleeve. “I wanna play Mario Kart!”

“I don’t think they have Mario Kart,” Nene tells the pink-haired girl, and she looks the most genuine she has throughout the entire conversation.

“It seems we must be off, Toya,” Tsukasa says, removing his arm. “I regret that we cannot talk longer, for-”

“Hurry, Tsukasa, they’re leaving us behind,” Rui interrupts, pointing to the two girls who have already taken off.

“Shit, come on!” Tsukasa says as Rui grabs his arm and begins to drag him away. “We’ll talk later, Toya!”

“Later,” Toya confirms, but he doubts Tsukasa hears him as the four rush away.

He watches them all go, a smile still planted firmly on his face. He really does enjoy their company in small doses, but he’s not sure he could be around them for much longer than a few minutes at a time. But again. He’s glad Tsukasa found them.

“I don’t like them,” Akito suddenly says. “Can we go now?”

Toya glances over. “You barely know them. And yes, we can go.”

They walk into Phoenix Wonderland side by side, neither exactly sure what to do first considering Toya has only ever been here for Tsukasa’s shows and Akito has never been at all. Once they get in with their tickets, they grab a map from a nearby kiosk.

“What d’you wanna do first?” Akito asks, eyes scanning the sheet. “We could eat or go on rides or play games… Maybe not in that order, though. We should eat last.”

Toya agrees (he has a weak stomach, especially around Akito these days), so they decide to try out a tea cup ride first. Akito spins them so fast Toya can’t help but laugh the entire time, wind whipping his hair in so many directions that Akito starts laughing at him, and then they’re just sitting in an unmoving tea cup, laughing at each other.

After that they try the merry-go-round, and Akito complains the entire time after accidentally choosing a stationary giraffe. Toya simply giggles behind his hand, his own tiger floating up and down.

They ride one more time just so Akito can pick a different animal. This time he picks a lion, and luckily it moves.

Because the park is regrettably low on ride options, they move on to games. Akito insists on trying everything, but he’s not very good. Toya, on the other hand, wins a small prize from every booth, all the way from plastic rings to giant pieces of candy. He spots Akito eyeing a large stuffed bear wearing a miniature Phoenix Wonderland t-shirt, and throws baseballs at towers of milk bottles until his arm hurts and Akito has that stupid bear.

It’s worth it to see the blush on Akito’s face when he hands it over.

“I- I can’t take this, man, you won it-”

“For you,” Toya insists.

Akito takes it with fumbling hands and hugs it close to his chest as they walk around a little more.

Eventually the sun begins to leave the sky, and Akito taps Toya’s arm excitedly. “We should go on the ferris wheel so we can watch the sunset!”

And Toya agrees, because there probably isn’t a world where he could reject Akito when he looks that happy. A world where he could reject Akito at all.

So they wait in line for the ferris wheel and sit across from each other when they finally board, Akito setting the bear in the seat next to him. Toya watches the park below them shrink, smaller and smaller, until the people are nothing but specks as the wheel grinds to a halt. And he and Akito are lucky enough to be at the very top. The perfect spot for a sunset.

And it does look beautiful, the pinks and the oranges of the sky mixing together to create new hues Toya doesn’t think he’s ever seen before, something magical and breathtaking, and when he glances over at Akito to make sure he’s seeing it too, the boy is only looking back at him, something unfamiliar etched into face.

“Akito?” Toya asks, voice quiet, like if he speaks too loud he’ll ruin the moment.

“Uh,” Akito says with a start. He coughs and looks out at the sky. “It’s pretty, huh?”

Toya isn’t looking at the sunset anymore, but he nods anyway. “Yeah.”

“Say, Toya,” Akito starts, eyes still focused outside of their cabin. “When the talent show is over… like, when we perform, because we definitely got in.” He looks at Toya. “We’ll still be friends, right?”

What a strange question. “Of course.”

Akito sighs, something like relief lacing his breath. “Good.”

They ride in silence for a bit, Toya choosing to ignore the implications of Akito’s question. Obviously they would continue to be friends. Did seeing him with Tsukasa and his troupe plant any doubt in Akito’s mind?

“It would take a lot for us to stop being friends, Akito,” Toya mutters, somewhat out of the blue, just because he feels it needs to be said.

Akito shrugs. “It didn’t take a lot for anyone else.”

That rumor again. Maybe it’s about time they finally addressed it. “Akito-”

“It’s true.”

Akito’s words ring through Toya’s ears, and the boy finds himself at a loss for words. He supposes he had never truly thought of it all as more than a simple rumor, something bound to be passed around in a school of boys. He hadn’t given it much thought before becoming Akito’s friend, but everyone had heard about it once word began to spread all that time ago.

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“About Akito Shinonome. He’s gay.”

And it hadn’t bothered him like it seemed to bother so many others. Toya had never been one to get involved in others’ issues, and by extension he had never considered how it might affect Akito. But it had clearly taken a toll on him.

“I know you don’t care, but I feel like I should explain,” Akito says with some difficulty. It takes him another moment of silence to pull himself together before he starts. “In middle school I was friends with this kid, Kiyoshi. He was probably my best friend for a good couple of years, so when I realized I was into guys, I didn’t really think twice about telling him.” A pause. “...And he didn’t take it as well as I thought he would. Went around and told anyone who would listen. Stopped hanging around me.” Akito drops his gaze to his hands, folded in his lap. “Somehow people started telling different versions of the story, and I guess it became common knowledge that I had hit on him, even though I didn’t. And I didn’t really care until people started being assholes about it, but eventually I stopped retaliating and they stopped being so obvious.” He glances at Toya. “The shit you see now is mild. It just… stings a little to see you suffer too. Because of me.”

Toya isn’t sure what to say. Something, say something you idiot. Akito already knows he doesn’t care. What else is there to say?

“Thanks for telling me,” he decides.

Akito shrugs. “‘S’not like you didn’t already know. I just thought maybe you’d wanna hear it from me.” And in spite of it all, he smiles. “I’m glad you’re not like other people at school, Toya. I think anyone else would’ve refused to do the whole talent show thing with me, but you…” He trails off, smile still playing at his lips as he gazes at the boy across from him.

Toya feels hot. “I mean… I’m also…” He doesn’t know how to say it. He supposes it's because the only person he’s ever come out to is Tsukasa, who took it all in stride and then started talking about his new show. It’s harder than he thought it would be, but things are usually easier with Akito. He takes a deep breath. “I… also like guys. So.”

And he leaves it at that, watching as Akito processes this. His eyes go wide, his mouth slips open, and he just stares at Toya like he’s grown a second head. Toya isn’t as offended as he probably should be, because he knows Akito well enough. This is his No way, that’s sick! face. Probably.

“No wonder you don’t care,” Akito says quietly.

Toya shrugs. Shit, now this really looks like a date.

They sit in silence for the rest of the ride, neither exactly sure how to follow up all that has been revealed. And even when they get off, they don’t speak until Akito suddenly tugs on Toya’s sleeve.

“A photo booth!” The boy says, pointing. Toya follows his finger to see a small booth pushed off to a secluded corner.

“You wanna take pictures?” Toya asks.

“Duh,” Akito replies, practically dragging Toya towards it.

The two of them cram into the tiny booth, and Toya feels a little bad for the bear when Akito shoves it at their feet to make more room on the seat. The orange-haired boy pushes a few buttons on the machine, inserts a few dollar bills, and glances at Toya. “Okay! What poses should we do?”

Toya defaults, throwing up a peace sign as he watches the seconds tick down, and Akito laughs, joining him. The first picture flashes and the seconds begin to tick again. Toya doesn’t have to think too hard about what to do for the next one because Akito throws an arm around him and presses their cheeks together, a wide grin on his face. And Toya smiles too, mind filled with thoughts of warmth, warm, he’s so warm.

The second flash goes off and they’re granted another five seconds. Toya’s mind is scrambling to think of another pose when he suddenly feels a light brush of lips against his right cheek, but he looks over and Akito pulls away and the bulb flashes a second too late.

Akito kissed my cheek he kissed my cheek what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-

Akito flushes crimson as he meets Toya’s eyes, mouth fixed into an uncertain line as the last flash overtakes their space.

“Akito-”

“Let’s see the pictures!” Akito says suddenly, abruptly turning and hopping out of the booth.

Toya sits there for a moment longer, cherishing the way Akito had sat so close, the way Akito had grinned, the way Akito had kissed his cheek. What the fuck?!

When he finally joins Akito outside, the boy is holding the two photo strips the booth spit out with a grimace on his face. “Toya, man, I don’t think you want either of these.”

“Yes I do,” Toya says, taking one before the boy can stop him. The top two pictures turned out exactly how they planned, the third is a blur of motion. It’s the fourth one that makes Toya’s heart race, it’s him and Akito staring at each other, blushing furiously. It’s the aftermath. He looks up at Akito and nods. “I’m keeping this.”

Akito laughs, shaking his head with something that closely resembles fondness lacing his voice. “Of course you are. I’ll keep mine too, then.”

And as they decide to leave for the day, Akito dipping back into the booth to grab the bear he almost forgot, Toya gathers what semblance of bravery is left in him after the past few days and slowly, finally, slips his hand into Akito’s. The orange-haired boy startles, but doesn’t pull away. He simply tightens his grip as they walk towards the exit, refusing to look over at Toya. And Toya is glad, because he’s certain that if they were to make eye contact right now, he would promptly explode. One thought plays on loop in his mind the entire walk home, as their hands grow sweaty because neither boy wants to let go.

Maybe Akito likes me back.

For once, he doesn’t force himself to ignore it.

+++

The day of the talent show, Toya assumes, will be the ultimate test of will for both of them.

Upon receiving the news that they had made it in, Akito had yelled “Fuck yeah, I knew it!” and hugged Toya so hard they had fallen backward onto the orange-haired boy’s bed, and Toya had laughed because it was easier than addressing the butterflies in his stomach, that pesky rattling box. He had wanted that hug to last much longer, but Akito insisted they start practicing right away.

So they practiced. A little too much, in Toya’s opinion, but he’d never be able to pull Akito out of his element, never be able to stop that lovely sound of his own accord. And he fears Akito wouldn’t listen even if he tried, considering the boy’s vigor with all things music related.

“I just really want this to be a good performance, y’know?” He had said to Toya.

“Sure.”

So here they are now, the day of the talent show. And other than a few snarky remarks from a competitor (something about Akito performing a ballet, which only served to make the boy laugh), things have been going well.

The ultimate test of will, Toya thinks as he and Akito stand backstage, watching the current number, because even if we’re able to perform together, what happens after that?

The dancer ahead of them finishes to a polite smattering of applause, and Toya gulps. Shitshitshit.

The stage lights go out and Ms. Sasaki is there to help wheel the piano onstage. Toya awkwardly helps her maneuver it with what little light they’re provided as Akito steps forward and waits for them to finish setting up, microphone gripped in his sweaty palm. Toya wishes he could tell him good luck one more time.

When the lights finally shine down on the two boys, revealing them to the audience, a slight but noticeable murmur slinks through the crowd. Like a game of telephone, it seems to grow with each realization - Toya can only imagine how hard this must be for Akito. If only the boy would turn around and face him.

Toya simply takes a deep breath to steady himself, before flexing his fingers a few times - a nervous habit. When he finally sets his fingers on the keys, he still feels tense. But if there’s anything that can relax him, it’s Akito’s voice. So he plays.

Two bars. Four. Eight. Toya is almost reminded of the recitals he was forced to perform in as a child, how he endured analytical ears and harsh, judgmental glares. At least he’s used to it.

Ah. Akito’s entrance.

Toya feels excitement drumming beneath the pads of his fingers, and he has to take another concealed breath. He always speeds up around this part, and he was never able to tell Akito why. I can’t wait to hear you sing. Isn’t that odd? I remember I get to hear your voice another time and I get so excited I rush.

So he continues his steady beat, the comforting rhythm he and Akito have created over the past few weeks carrying him along the pages he barely even needs to glance at. And Akito’s entrance finally arrives.

Toya plays the chords he always does when Akito joins him, when his loud and boisterous voice fills and replaces the air in the room, the air between them, the air in Toya’s lungs. He plays it to match the boy’s voice; loud and full of energy.

But Akito doesn’t join in.

Toya keeps playing. He isn’t sure why. Maybe, in the back of his mind, he assumes he got the entrance wrong. That Akito isn’t supposed to come in for another few bars or so.

But no. He knows this song, his notes, Akito’s voice like the back of his hand, like a path home from school, like there’s always been a special spot in his mind carved out for when all of those things finally come together. He memorized it over cheesecake and practice, over soccer and conversation, through all the times he and Akito sat on the boy’s bedroom floor and sifted through pages and pages of music. He knows this. Akito should be singing by now, but he’s not, and that’s odd.

Toya spares a glance at Akito, and it doesn’t take long to notice that the boy is practically frozen with fear. Toya feels a twinge in his stomach, a chip off his heart. Panic floods him, but he keeps playing, keeps glancing between Akito and the piano.

Should I stop? He’s clearly freaking out. Can we start over? Is that allowed?

“Are you gonna do anything?”

No. No no no.

“Hey, are you fucking mute?”

Toya’s hands stumble over the keys, and his mind goes blank. He messed up. His fingers freeze above the piano as he finally turns his full attention to Akito, but the boy isn’t looking back at him. He’s staring out at the crowd as their jeering and booing increases, and Toya wants nothing more than to run over and hold Akito, shield him from the words being spit their way, assure him that everything is alright. Ask why he can’t sing.

He does none of this, simply watching everything play out before him. Akito takes a few choppy steps backward, eyes glued to the audience, clear terror written across his face. Stage fright?

Not a single taunt is aimed at Toya, because of course they wouldn’t be. He was forced into this, he had never wanted to be Akito’s accompaniment in the first place. He’s a prodigy who got swept up in this talent show bullshit and everyone knows it. Akito is the one to blame, Akito has always been the one to blame. He’s easy to mock.

Toya feels like he should do something. Nobody is turning off the lights or closing the curtains or ushering them offstage. It’s just Akito and Toya, facing the music. Lack thereof, really. And Toya knows he should do something, but he isn’t sure what. Akito looks so lost standing onstage. Toya’s palms are clammy. He takes a deep breath.

“Akito.”

The boy doesn’t respond, so Toya tries again. “Akito?”

After a few beats, Akito finally looks back at him, and Toya could just break in half on the spot because there are tears in his eyes. Akito is going to cry.

Toya isn’t sure who’s moving his legs when they help him rise from the piano bench. He approaches Akito, the audience’s clamor loud in his ears, and gently takes his friend’s arm in his uncertain grasp. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Akito blinks a few times, as if processing the question in its entirety, before glancing up at Toya. He shakes his head, and it’s small, but it’s enough to make Toya mumble an “okay, c’mon” and lead the boy offstage. Only when they finally fall behind the safety of the curtains do the lights go out, the jeering flickering out with them.

Ms. Sasaki walks towards them, visibly worried. “Boys, what happened out there? Why did you-”

“Why didn’t anyone turn the lights off earlier?!” Toya snaps, and it comes out with enough bite to stun the teacher to silence. He only feels a little bit bad. “We clearly stopped, we- he- Akito wasn’t singing. Why did you let all that happen?!”

And maybe it’s unfair to aim all of this at Ms. Sasaki - the woman looks just as shocked about the whole thing as he feels, after all - but he can’t help it. There’s so much anger in Toya’s body right now, his hands are practically shaking, his fingers wrapped tightly around Akito’s bicep. Somebody needs to take responsibility for this, for the way they were left onstage to hear every downright cruel thing the audience had to say about Akito, every name, every insult. Somebody has to pay for the way Toya froze, and he so desperately doesn’t want it to be him.

“We weren’t sure if it was part of a new routine, at first,” Ms. Sasaki tries to explain, clearly aware of Toya’s unstable state with the way her voice screams defuse defuse defuse. “Nobody is supposed to turn the lights off until after an act is finished.”

“Nice fucking excuse,” Toya spits. “So if we had just stood there, you would’ve let them keep shouting? What the hell kind of a-”

“Toya,” Ms. Sasaki cuts him off, and she’s using that teacher voice that only manages to make Toya’s skin crawl. “Watch your language. I feel terrible about what happened, and I will take it all up with both the judges and the staff here today. None of this is any reason to use that tone, but I’ll let it slide now.” She fixes him with a pointed stare. “I’m angry too. But we can’t take it out on others, alright?”

And with that she turns and walks away, leaving them backstage. Toya wants to scream after her, yell all the ways she’s wrong, he wants to go back onstage and curse out every single audience member, he wants to take Akito home and cry.

He feels hysterical.

The boy who had earlier mentioned something about Akito performing a ballet suddenly appears from around the next curtain where he had both been waiting for his turn and listening to the entire conversation. “Hey, is anyone gonna get that piano offstage? I still have to perform.”

Toya ignores him, instead attempting to find the ground beneath his feet. Akito is still silent where he stands next to Toya, eyes fixed on his shoes. He looks so small, the way he sinks into his hoodie. Toya feels a new wave of rage bubble inside of him when he realizes that Akito has been putting up with this shit for so long, and nobody has ever done anything, not even Toya, not even his parents or his sister or his teammates. And Toya wants so badly to blame someone, to make someone suffer for all of this. He’s so angry, too angry.

“Dude, look. I know your boyfriend fucking choked or whatever up there, but someone really needs to get this fucking piano-”

Toya whips around.

Crack.

The boy staggers backward, eyes wide, hand flying up to the cheek Toya just slammed his fist into. “Shit!” He hisses, prodding at the reddened skin. He regains his balance, bloodthirsty eyes landing on Toya. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

Toya doesn’t know how to answer that when his chest is heaving and his legs are shaking and his fist is thrumming with both pain and satisfaction.

“Toya.”

Toya blinks. Glances at Akito, whose hand is now on Toya’s own sleeve, eyes panicked. He says nothing else, but he doesn’t need to. Toya simply shrugs his hand off in favor of grabbing it in his own and dragging the boy with him as he storms back to the dressing rooms, past the orchestra room, the band room, down the hallway and through the doors of the school. Every step he takes brings him closer to sanity, and by the time they reach the sidewalk beside the school, everything is flooding back to him.

Shit. I punched that kid. I swore at Ms. Sasaki. Fuck, fuck! I’m fucking screwed-

“Toya,” Akito suddenly breathes, and their hands are still intertwined. “Why did you do that?”

“Which part?” Toya mutters bitterly. Quietly.

“Um. All of it?”

Toya shrugs. How does he explain to Akito that something finally snapped inside of him? That he finally got fed up with the way everyone treats his friend? That he was afraid?

They stand in silence for a bit, wind biting at their ears and leaving whispers of cold along the skin they didn’t have time to cover with a coat. Akito wraps his arms around himself, and without glancing at Toya, asks, “Can we go home now?”

And Toya isn’t sure why Akito isn’t running away from him, but he nods anyway.

+++

Akito and Toya are on Akito’s bed, sitting closer than friends probably should.

Upon returning home, Akito had promptly stormed up to his room and let his tears get the best of him. And Toya, following behind as he usually does, was there to comfort him. So now they’re on Akito’s bed, Akito’s head tucked against Toya’s chest, one hand wrapped in the fabric of Toya’s shirt and the other pressed against one of his eyes in an attempt to stifle the tears. Toya has one arm wrapped around the boy and his free hand in a mess of orange hair, tracing what he hopes are soothing patterns along the skin beneath it.

They’ve been sitting like this for at least ten minutes, and Toya hasn’t moved an inch. He’s afraid of what’ll happen if he does, if Akito will suddenly remember that Toya had frozen onstage and punched a kid when they got off, that Toya is defending him too much, that Toya is scary.

Toya doesn’t get angry often, but when he does it erupts out of him in a flurry of harsh words and violent outbursts. And now that Akito has seen this part of him, surely he won’t stick around. Surely he thinks Toya is weird for losing his cool like that, surely he wants to leave.

So why is he clutching Toya’s shirt like his life depends on it? Why is he leaning into Toya’s touch and trusting him completely, why is his breathing finally evening out against Toya?

Why is he letting Toya hold him like this?

When Akito finally speaks, his voice comes out so quietly it’s unsettling. “Sorry.”

Toya continues running his hands through Akito’s hair, the pads of his fingers skating between strands. He feels as though raising his own voice above a whisper will ruin the gentle mood they have somehow created. “For what?”

“All of this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Akito.” Toya swallows. “I would do it all over again if I could.”

Akito says nothing, opting instead to simply shake his head against Toya’s chest. Toya plows on. “I’m serious. Everything that we’ve ever done together… I would love to live through it all again. I mean, some of it was shitty, yeah, but.” He pauses when Akito stops shaking his head. “But everything else cancels out.” And Toya guesses that what he wants to say next might ruin this moment, but he can’t hold it back when he’s already come this far. “I think meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Toya feels Akito’s breath hitch before the boy looks up at him, eyes bleary as he whispers, “...What?”

And Toya doesn’t feel the need to look away from his gaze, despite the box inside of him rattling every nerve around it. He feels like he’s ripping off a million band-aids. “You make me happy, Akito.” A soft smile. “I’m glad we met.”

Akito simply blinks up at him, face having turned red long ago. He doesn’t seem to know how to respond, hand tightening in Toya’s shirt as he stares in disbelief. “...Toya-”

“I’m home!”

The two boys barely have enough time to untangle themselves before Ena comes bolting up the steps, visibly out of breath when she lands in Akito’s doorway. “Hey-” She stops, giving Akito a quick once-over. “The hell happened to you?”

“Wow, thanks,” Akito mutters, wiping the back of his wrist across his eyes. “Nothing, really. Just completely fucked our performance. Couldn’t even sing.”

Ena cocks her head. “You… didn’t sing?”

Akito throws his hands up. “Nope! Like I said, I completely fucked it. Toya was doing perfectly fine, and I missed my entrance and panicked and everybody started yelling shit from the audience and- and I choked. I fucking choked.”

Toya sets his hand atop Akito’s as Ena says, “People were yelling? Yelling what?”

“Typical shit,” the boy shrugs. “Slurs, insults. They haven’t really come up with anything new in like, two years. So I’ve basically heard it all.”

Ena’s eyes are wide, her brow furrowed. “I thought they stopped bullying you?”

“I think it’s too normalized to be considered bullying at this point,” Akito mumbles, and he leans into Toya’s touch just the slightest bit, like he’s looking for something to ground him. “Everyone is in on it by now. Except Toya.”

Ena glances at Toya as if just now realizing he’s here. She does this often. Her gaze slides back to Akito as she crosses her arms and leans against the doorway. “Okay… and why haven’t you told anyone?”

“I did a long time ago, but nothing really changed,” Akito shrugs. “So I figured I would just deal with it until I graduate.”

“Shit plan,” Ena shakes her head, but her following silence is a clear indication that she isn’t sure what to do about it either. Toya would love to help, but he’s also out of ideas.

“It’s fine,” Akito mutters, “I have Toya now.”

And Toya feels a blush shoot through his body because Akito fully leans into his side, arms pressed together, hands intertwined, Ena watching them and definitely suppressing an eye roll. Akito has him. He has Akito. We have each other.

“Toya can’t protect you twenty-four seven, Akito,” Ena says, and she at least sounds slightly apologetic. “...What if you transferred to my school?”

Akito barks out a short laugh. “Yeah, right. No way am I going to fucking night school, you nocturnal freak.”

Ena narrows her eyes. “First of all, fucking rude and uncalled for. Second of all, Kamiyama has day classes, dumbass. It’s a co-ed school. People are chill about basically everything.”

Akito’s gaze drops to his hand, fingers twisting along Toya’s. “Do you think mom and dad would let me?”

“For next year, yeah,” his sister shrugs. “They literally wanted you to go there after middle school but you were too scared of girls or whatever.”

Akito bristles. “I was confused!”

“Yeah, whatever. Ask them tonight. I’ll see you later, maybe.”

With that, Ena strides to her own room and shuts the door to start a video call with her friends. Akito watches her go with a sigh, letting his head fall on Toya’s shoulder. Toya tries not to let his blush worsen, not exactly looking to explode right now.

“Maybe I should transfer to Kamiyama,” the boy says softly. “Have a fresh start next year. Find some more friends.” He squeezes Toya’s hand. “Kinda feels like I’m giving up, though.”

Part of Toya wants to beg Akito to stay, to stay with him, to stay with their joint lunches and walks home from school and all the moments they share between classes. But a bigger part of him, the part that he knows he should listen to, is telling him that this is better for Akito. To truly make Akito happy, he has to encourage him to leave their shitty school behind.

“You should,” Toya says, and he tries not to sound too disappointed. “It’s not giving up. You deserve a fresh start.”

“Yeah,” Akito breathes, flipping Toya’s palm over and using his free hand to trace the lines that lie there. “I do.”

+++

At this point, Toya should have a million gold medals for the amount of Aoyagi dinners he’s made it through.

The current one is going remarkably well, all things considered. He punched a kid yesterday and no one has mentioned it. No one has brought up Akito for awhile either, and the general lack of discussion surrounding his life nowadays has allowed him to slip into the false belief that he’s in the clear.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

“Toya.”

Toya pauses his eating to look up at his father. “Yes?”

The man wipes his mouth before he continues, dropping his napkin onto his plate as he lets his icy eyes land on his youngest son. “I ran into Mrs. Makino earlier today.”

Toya stays silent, unsure of where this is going considering he has no idea who that is.

“When were you planning on telling me you physically assaulted her son?”

Oh. So that’s who that was. Toya shrugs. “Uh… never?”

And this is clearly the wrong response, but it slips out before Toya can stop himself. He immediately regrets it when his father slams his hand atop the dinner table, causing every piece of china and ware to startle. “And why not?”

“It’s that Akito kid,” one of Toya’s brothers supplies unhelpfully. “He’s a terrible influence. Toya has barely been practicing lately.”

“That’s not true!” Toya protests, but his father raises a hand to cut him off.

“How much of your newest piece have you learned so far?”

Toya freezes. Fuck. He had received the piece not even a week before meeting Akito, and still hasn’t even glanced at it. “I- I was going to learn it soon-”

“Toya!” His father starts, and the boy winces. “You’re telling me that you haven’t even begun to learn it?”

“Yes, but-”

“No,” the man cuts him off once again. “I won’t have any of your pathetic excuses. No more of this Akito boy, no more of this talent show business.” He slices Toya a withering glare. “No more seeing Akito outside of school hours. You will learn and perfect this piece by the end of next week.”

“But-”

“No objections, Toya. It’s bad enough that I can’t homeschool you.”

And usually Toya would stay quiet, usually he would simply bow his head and nod along, but he’s too far gone for that now. He has to say something, for Akito, for himself. “But that’s not fair.”

That earns a few raised eyebrows around the table. “What?”

“The talent show is over,” he tries to explain. “Can I at least see him sometimes?”

“What, is he your boyfriend or something?” One of his brothers asks, snide tone causing Toya to freeze.

“Uh- no.”

“Toya’s finally made a friend,” his other brother chimes in, a shit-eating grin practically splitting his face in two. “Too bad.”

“Stop,” Toya weakly attempts to defend himself. The table has turned from a competitive sports arena to a lion den. He feels targeted, called out. Fearful.

“All of you, quiet,” his father demands, and his brothers snap to attention. “As I said. No more Akito. I want you practicing every day, Toya. You don’t have any more time to waste.”

“He’s not a waste-”

“Are you sure you’re not screwing him?”

“Quiet!”

“I’m just saying.”

Toya abruptly stands from the table, chair sliding backward as he tries to steady his shaky hands. “I’m leaving.”

“Toya, sit down-”

“I said I’m leaving!” He snaps, and rushes away before he can deal with the repercussions of that. As he moves to the door, he hears someone behind him stand up. Not wanting to see who it is, he simply breaks out in a run, sprinting out his door without grabbing a coat to shield him from the cold bite of sunset.

For awhile, he’s running without a destination. His mind is fuzzy and sharp at the same time, like his brain is prickly, like he wants to shove a pillow over his head to drown everything out.

There’s no purpose to the life he’s being forced to live. He wants out, he wants away. He has to get away from it. Since meeting Akito, he’s learned of everything life can be outside of a practice room. Music classes aren’t so stuffy when he thinks about showing Akito what he’s learned. Lunch isn’t so lonely when he has Akito to laugh with. Life isn’t so pointless when he has Akito to turn to for a bright smile or a new joke. Things aren’t so bad when Akito is around.

He can’t go back to living the loop Akito broke him out of. He can’t go back to wasting endless days and nights away in his family’s practice room, to hauling the weight of his family’s expectation up a never-ending hill. He can’t.

So when he ends up in front of Akito’s house, chest heaving with unexpected exertion, he’s not really surprised. Of course I would end up here.

He knocks three times before someone opens the door. Ena looks taken aback, to say the least. “Uh. What’re you doing here?”

It’s so hard to breathe. “Is Akito home?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

Ena opens the door the slightest bit wider and Toya steps inside just in time to see Akito come down the stairs. The boy’s eyes widen when he sees Toya.

“Toya?!”

“Yeah,” Toya says on a sharp exhale. His hands are on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

“Is everything okay?”

“Can we-” He wets his tongue. “Can we talk in your room?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course- C’mere.”

Akito slings an arm around Toya’s waist and helps him up the stairs, guiding the two of them into his room and onto his bed after shutting the door behind them. Toya all but collapses into his friend, hands gripping at the worn t-shirt Akito always sleeps in, the top of his head pressing into Akito’s collarbone. He needs to find his breath before he completely loses it.

“Hey, hey,” Akito says gently, barely above a whisper. “Toya. Here.” He digs his legs beneath Toya’s own and pulls the boy closer, wrapping one arm around him and using the other to hoist Toya onto his lap. Once they’re settled - Toya’s eyes still squeezed shut as his breathing finally begins to slow - Akito lets his hand slip into Toya’s hair and guides his face to his neck, holding the boy against him. Not a word is spoken. Toya is too busy trying to calm down to fully register their position.

Toya lets his eyes open as he lets slow inhales and exhales flow through him. Akito’s room. Even after all this time, the cluttered room still brings a strange comfort to him. And now, with the orange glow that usually rests across the space snubbed out in favor of the window letting streetlight filter through, it seems that much calmer. Toya looks around. Registers the marked-up music on the floor, the shirts Akito basically reserves for Toya in a heap across the room, the books that have considerably less dust on them now that Toya has looked through them all. Relaxes.

“Akito?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m transferring with you. To Kamiyama.”

He finally looks up at Akito, who stares back at him, hand still resting in his hair. “Why?”

“I don’t wanna go to school if you’re not there,” Toya says softly, and he doesn’t miss the blush that lands on Akito’s cheeks. “And my dad is banning us from hanging out anymore. So.”

“Wait, what?” Akito says, head tilting. “Banning us?”

“He thinks you’re distracting me from piano practice,” Toya shrugs. “But he won’t compromise. So I left.”

“You left?!”

“I couldn’t just stay there, Akito,” Toya says, and he’s begging Akito to understand. “I can’t just never see you again. So I’m gonna convince him to let me transfer schools.”

“You think he’ll let you?” Akito asks, and his hand begins moving in Toya’s hair. Toya tries not to let his eyes flutter shut at the gentle sensation. “I mean. You just ran away, so.”

“I’ll convince him,” Toya mumbles. “I’ll say everyone is distracting, I’ll say they’re making me join an after school club, I’ll make sure he lets me transfer with you and I’ll get him to forgive me.”

“Maybe don’t mention that I’ll be there,” Akito says, a smile lacing his words.

“We can have a fresh start together,” Toya says quietly, and he’s still staring into Akito’s eyes, letting Akito’s eyes stare into him. The room is growing softer and softer the longer they watch each other.

Toya hums. “You’re pretty, Akito.”

Akito’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull away as his face heats up. “You- Toya. Dude. You really can’t be saying shit like that.”

“Why not?”

“...I might get the wrong idea,” Akito says, and he looks a little scared.

Toya blinks. He’s sitting on Akito’s lap. Akito is running his fingers through Toya’s hair. They’ve been staring at each other for at least an entire minute and they’ve held hands more times than Toya can count. How could Akito get the wrong idea?

“Akito…” He starts, mulling over his words. “When I say I want to stay by your side… that I’m glad I met you because you make me happy… I didn’t mean any of that as a friend.”

And Akito freezes beneath Toya’s hands, but Toya can still feel his heart hammering against his palms. “Wh… huh?”

“I like you, Akito,” Toya breathes. “As more than a friend. If that part wasn’t clear.”

Akito’s eyes dart between Toya’s own, and his voice comes out hoarse. “...Really?”

The box explodes.

Toya nods, letting one of his hands release Akito’s shirt. He reaches up and touches the pads of his fingers to Akito’s jaw, eyes following his hand as he skims his fingertips back until they brush against the boy’s ear and he’s cupping the side of his face in the palm of his hand. Akito, seemingly still in disbelief, leans into the touch. Toya brushes his thumb along Akito’s cheekbone, along his lower eyelashes. It’s intimate. It’s clear.

When his eyes drop to Akito’s mouth, he isn’t really thinking when he tilts his head up and forward. His lips press against Akito’s, and the other boy makes a small noise in the back of his throat, hand lightly scrunching into Toya’s hair as he kisses him. When he tilts his head ever so slightly, their lips finally slot together, and Toya wants to cry at how perfect it feels. Akito moves his lips like they were meant for Toya, like they were made to be kissed by him. And Toya wants to capture this moment. Carry it with him forever.

When he finally pulls away to catch his breath for the second time tonight, Toya finds Akito’s eyes and is surprised to see tears dotting the edges of his vision. “Akito?”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Akito says in a rush, glancing away as he wipes his tears. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, I. I think I’m overwhelmed?”

Toya gives him a soft smile and runs his thumb along his cheek once again. “That’s okay,” he whispers.

“We have shit luck,” Akito says, shaking his head slightly as he looks back at Toya, letting his hand fall against the side of his neck. “But at least we have shit luck together?”

And Toya giggles, because he’s right. But maybe they can make something of this shit luck.

As long as they’re together, he’s sure whatever step they take next will be the right one.

He hasn’t felt like that in a long time.

+++

“Akito! Toya!”

Toya feels himself smile as he and Akito approach the school gates, An waving them over excitedly. He gives his boyfriend’s hand a light squeeze before letting it drop away, and Kohane gives them a welcoming grin when they reach the two girls.

“Hey, guys-”

“Those fucking freshmen stole our spot again!” An interrupts her girlfriend, gesturing to their usual before-school table just outside the building. “So I’m trying to convince Kohane to let me kick their asses-”

“And I’m still saying no,” Kohane cuts her off with a stern look. An huffs and crosses her arms, looking less than pleased about the executive decision.

“You can’t stay outta trouble for two seconds?” Akito asks the angry girl, a smirk pulling across his lips. “You’re lucky Kohane is here to stop your shitty ideas.”

“And you’re lucky Toya is here to keep me from folding you like a paper fucking airplance,” An scowls.

“Guys, c’mon,” Toya says, and Akito bites back a retort. “We’ll just get here earlier tomorrow and take our table back. It’s not a huge deal.”

“Exactly, thank you!” Kohane says. “You idiots are lucky at least half of us have brain cells-”

“We can beat their asses later.”

“Toya, seriously?!”

A collective giggle is pulled from the group as Akito grins and slings his arm around Toya’s shoulder. Toya leans into him, thankful that Ena was right when she said nobody at Kamiyama would care about it all that time ago.

The chimes ring out, and Akito looks at Toya. “See you at lunch.”

Toya nods, a light grin on his face. “See you at lunch.”

Toya’s heart feels full as he watches Akito walk away.