live, laugh, love

From inside, and older woman called, “If that's my good plate, I will put someone in the ground before supper.”

Valko closed his eyes. You turned toward him.

He opened one eyes. “She loves plates.”

“More than people?”

“Depends on the people.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and relief moved through him all at once, softening his shoulders, loosening the frightened line of his mouth. He'd been nervous all morning. Badly nervous. Valko, who could grin with blood on his teeth and make danger look like a door he'd simply forgotten to knock on, had spent the whole walk here giving you warnings no sane person could have prepared for.

Do not let Mika read your palm. He makes things up and then believes them.

Do not compliment Baba's curtains unless you want curtains.

Do not say you're full.

And, most importantly, if anyone mentions the soup incident, Valko had said, grave as a condemned man, they're lying.

You had asked what the soup incident was.

He had started to walk faster.

Now he stood before the old wooden door with your fingers caught in his, trying to look calm and producing, somehow, the exact expression of a wolf about to be bathed.

“Valko,” you said softly.

“Yes?”

“You're shaking.”

“I'm not shaking.”

“You are.”

“I’m containing myself.”

“From what?”

“Hereditary embarrassment.”

The door flew open.

A girl about his age stood on the other side, dark-eyed and grinning, with flour on her cheek and murder in her posture. She took one look at Valko’s hand around yours, then lifted her gaze to his face with the slow delight of someone finding a knife exactly where she had hoped one would be.

A slow smile cut across her face.

“Oh,” she smirked. “So this is why you changed your shirt twice.”

Valko made a sound. Small, wounded, entirely unlike a wolf.

“I changed once.”

“You changed twice. The first shirt was the blue one. The second was the one that made you look like you were going to court. This...This is the third.”

His ears went red.

The woman held out her hand to you. “Milena. His sister.”

“Unfortunately,” Valko added.

“Fortunately. Without me, you'd still think soap is optional in winter.”

“It isn't optional.”

“Because of me.”

You took Milena's hand. Her grip was warm, firm, and full of judgement she hadn't yet decided to use.

Behind her, the house breathed out heat. Bread, onions, some in old wood, something sweet cooling on a counter. There were voices everywhere, layered and crossing. One person laughing while another complained, a child humming under a table, chairs scraping, a kettle whistling like a bird losing patience.

Milena stepped aside. “Come in before Baba starts saying we were raised by wolves.”

Valko muttered, “We were.”

She looked at him. “And still, some of us learned manners.”

You crossed the threshold. The house was smaller than the noise made it seem, or maybe the noise had simply learned to fill every corner. Framed photographs climbed the walls in crooked rows. Herbs hung drying above the kitchen window. Nothing matched, and yet everything looked touched, mended, argued over... kept.

Valko leaned close as he helped you out of your coat.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “We can run.”

You looked past him to where an old woman stood near the stove, hands folded over her apron, watching you with bright, wolfish eyes.

“Too late,” you whispered back. “I think she heard you.”

“I hear everything,” the old woman said.

Valko went still.

Milena smiled into her shoulder.

The old woman crossed the kitchen with the slow authority of someone who had ruled this house before any of them had teeth. She was small, broad in the shoulders, silver-haired, with flour on her wrist and no softness wasted in her face. The softness, you realised, was elsewhere. In the bread covered by a towel, in the chair pulled out before you reached it, in the way Valko lowered his head without being asked when she came close.

“Baba,” he said, and for the first time that day, his voice lost its jokes.

She, of course, ignored him.

Instead, she took your face between both hands.

Her palms smelled of rosemary, yeast, and soap. Her thumbs rested beneath your cheekbones, and for one strange second the whole house seemed to lean closer. The cousins, the kettle, the old boards, even Valko, holding his breath beside you.

“So,” Baba Vesna said. “You are the reason he forgets to eat.”

“I eat,” Valko protested.

Teta Marika appeared by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “You came here last week, opened the pantry, stared at a sack of potatoes for six minutes, then said, ‘I wonder what she’s doing.’”

“That was taken out of context.”

“What was the context?” you asked, because love had made you brave and terrible.

Valko looked betrayed. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

A boy leaning backwards on his chair nearly lost balance from laughing, another cousin caught the chair by its back without looking up from peeling an apple.

Baba Vesna patted your cheek once and released you. “Sit, dušo. Eat something before my family embarrass me properly.”

Valko gave a strangled laugh. “Before?”

No one listened to him.

You were placed at the long wooden table as if the decision had been made before you arrived. A bowl appeared, then bread, then butter, then a small plate of pickled vegetables. Teta Marika, Valko's aunt, kissed the air beside your cheeks and took the small gift you had brought. Mika announced that he already knew your favourite colour from Valko’s face. Luka told him that was the stupidest sentence ever spoken in the kitchen, which Mika accepted as praise. The little one beneath the table emerged, solemn and bread-dusted, and introduced himself as Niko.

“Are you going to marry him?” Niko asked.

Valko walked directly into the side of a chair.

The whole kitchen paused. You pressed your lips together.

Milena leaned against the doorway, radiant with cruelty. “Careful, Niko. Val only has two knees.”

“Niko,” Teta Marika turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “We ask guests if they want juice first.”

Niko nodded, absorbing this etiquette with grave importance. “Do you want juice before you marry him?”

Valko covered his face with both hands. You bit down on your smile so hard it almost hurt. This wasn't what you had expected.

Some foolish, frightened part of you had imagined a den in the old sense. Teeth, watchful eyes, a family arranged around blood and law, waiting to decide whether your bones could be allowed near theirs. Valko had never spoken of them casually. Whenever he said home, something tender and embarrassed moved through him, as though the word itself had fingers and knew exactly where to touch.

Now you sat beneath a crooked lamp while his grandmother tore bread with her hands and put the first piece on your plate.

“Eat,” Baba Vesna said.

You obeyed.

The bread was warm enough to steam between your fingers. The crust cracked softly, butter melted into it in golden lines. Across the table, Valko watched you take the first bite as if your mouth held judgment from heaven.

You chewed. Swallowed.

“It’s delicious.”

Baba Vesna clicked her tongue. “Of course it is wonderful. I made it.”

Mika leaned towards you. “He talked about you after the market yesterday.”

Valko’s hand hit the table. “No.”

“Yes, you did” Luka said sticking his tongue out.

“No.”

“You said, and I quote, 'she chooses fruit with such care'.”

The table went quiet for half a breath, your hand stilled around the bread. Valko looked at Luka as if betrayal had entered the room wearing his cousin’s face.

“That was private.”

“You said it in the kitchen.”

“That makes it private.”

Milena sat across from you and rested her chin in her hand. “He also said you have kind hands.”

Valko’s mouth opened, nothing came out. Your heart did something foolish inside your chest.

The teasing had worked him bright and flustered, but beneath it, something softer trembled. He was embarrassed, yes. Horribly, so. Beautifully, so. Yet the thing underneath was more dangerous than shame. This was exposure. A curtain pulled open in a room he had spent so long keeping dim.

He had spoken of you here.

At this table. In this warm, loud house. To these people who teased him because they knew what he looked like with no armour on. He had brought you home long before he ever brought your body through the door.

Baba Vesna filled your bowl with soup.

“He was always like this,” she said.

“Baba, please.”

“He was a strange child,” she said.

Valko groaned. “Please.”

“A sweet child,” Teta Marika corrected.

“A dramatic child,” Luka said.

“A biting child,” Milena added.

Valko pointed at her. “You bit first.”

“You looked biteable.”

“You see what I mean?” Valko turned to you with helpless outrage. “This is what I survived.”

There was love in it, the kind that had been cooked too long and reduced into something strong enough to stain. They spoke to him as if they had known every version of him and chosen, again and again, to keep putting food in front of whichever one came home.

You looked at him while he argued with Mika about whether a stolen spoon counted as a childhood trauma.

He caught you looking. For a moment, the noise thinned.

There he was.

Valko with his hair refusing every law of decency. Valko trying so hard to survive his own family and failing beautifully. His eyes met yours with a nervous brightness that made you want to reach across the table and be cruel to every fear that had ever found him.

Then Niko pointed his spoon at you.

“Are you keeping him?”

The kitchen stopped.

Valko made a tiny sound into his bowl.

Milena closed her eyes as if praying for patience and finding none. “Niko.”

“What? Mika said maybe she is keeping him.”

His gaze dropped to the table, to the bread by his hand, to the small old cuts in the wood. The blush still clung to him, but it had changed into something quieter now. Hope, perhaps. Or terror wearing hope’s coat.

You could have laughed. Everyone would have let you. It would have been easy to throw the question back into the room like a toy and watch them tear it apart.

Instead, beneath the table, you found Valko’s hand.

His fingers closed around yours at once.

“I’d like to,” you said.

The house held itself still for half a breath.

Then Baba Vesna nodded, once, as if some old contract had been signed in soup and honey.

“Good,” she said. “He is difficult, but warm.”

Valko bowed his head.

His shoulders shook.

At first you thought he was upset. Then you realised he was laughing, quietly, helplessly, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding yours under the table like he meant to keep it there until winter.

Mika groaned. “Ah, look at him. Finished. Completely finished.”

Milena reached for the pickles. “Good. He needed finishing.”

Teta Marika smiled into her tea. “Eat more, zlato. You will need strength.”

“For Valko?” you asked.

“For all of us.”

Dinner became less a meal than a storm with chairs.

Bowls moved, hands reached, stories climbed over one another and died unfinished because someone remembered a better accusation. Luka asked you practical questions in a calm voice: where you liked to walk, whether Valko had shown you the old river path, whether he still pretended not to like sweet things. Mika tried to read your palm and declared that you were fated to own a troublesome dog.

“That's just Valko,” Milena said.

“I am not a dog.”

“True,” Luka said. “Dogs listen.”

Valko began quietly placing the best pieces of food on your plate.

A soft carrot, the inside of the bread, a dumpling he pretended to move away from himself and somehow abandoned beside your spoon. He was not subtle. He had never been subtle. He was a wolf trying to hide a whole deer behind a napkin.

You noticed on the fourth offering.

His family noticed on the first.

Baba Vesna said nothing until Valko tried to give you the last honey cake. Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her tea.

“Ah,” she said.

Valko froze.

It was one syllable. It landed like a bell.

“What?” he said.

“No, no.” She waved him off. “Continue. Starve for romance. Very noble.”

Mika threw his head back.

You picked up the honey cake before Valko could die at the table and broke it in two, placing half on his plate. “There,” you said. “No starving.”

He looked at the cake.

Then he looked at you.

His expression opened in a way that made the room, somehow, feel too small for your heart. It opened with that unguarded, bewildered softness he sometimes gave you when kindness arrived before he had prepared himself to receive it.

Milena saw it.

Her teasing quieted.

For a moment, she only watched him with something old and protective in her face.

Then she stood. “Come help me with plates.”

Valko blinked. “Me?”

“Her.” Milena pointed at you.

Valko frowned. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That's not a reason.”

“It has worked on you for years.”

You rose before he could protest again. Milena took two plates from the table and handed you none of them, which told you at once that this had nothing to do with helping.

She led you down a narrow hallway lined with photographs.

Behind you, Valko’s voice rose. “Do not interrogate her.”

The hallway smelled faintly of beeswax and dried herbs. The noise of the kitchen softened behind you, still there, still golden, but now wrapped in walls. Milena stopped by a window overlooking the yard and leaned her hip against the sill.

For the first time all evening, she let the smile leave her face.

“He likes you,” she said.

You smiled gently. “I got that impression.”

“No.” Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen. “He likes people easily. He likes old men who tell bad stories, stray cats that scratch him, children who throw rocks at windows because they want attention. Valko is built stupid that way.”

A laugh escaped you.

Milena folded her arms.

“He brings things home,” she continued. “Broken things, angry things. Things he thinks no one else will be gentle with.” Her gaze moved towards the kitchen, where Valko’s voice lifted in protest. “He does not bring people home.”

Your throat tightened.

From the kitchen, Valko shouted, “It wasn't soup. It was stew.”

Mika shouted back, “Stew cannot make a grown man cry.”

“I was overwhelmed by flavour.”

Milena closed her eyes for one second. “Bože, give me strength.”

You laughed softly.

She looked at you again, sharper now.

“He was nervous all week,” she said. “Changed his shirt three times. Asked me if the house smelled too much like onions. Asked Luka if his laugh was strange. Asked Baba if she could please not tell the story about the goat.”

“The goat?”

“Later.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “Maybe never.”

You glanced back towards the kitchen.

He had asked if his laugh was strange.

Something in you ached with such tenderness that it almost felt like anger.

You looked down.

“He didn’t need to worry,”

“He is clumsy with precious things,” she said. “Because he thinks his hands are only good for breaking them, even when he is careful. Especially then.”

“So be kind,” she said. “Or be cruel quickly. He will survive either, but I prefer to know which one I’m dealing with.”

There it was.

The knife under the table. The love with its teeth intact. You didn't resent her for it, you thought, strangely, that you liked her more for it.

“I’m not here to hurt him,”

“Most people aren’t, at first.”

“Milena.”

Milena’s gaze narrowed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with him,” you admitted.

“With any of this,” you continued. “He makes everything feel…” You searched for the word and hated every pretty one that came. Fated. Wild. Tender. All too polished for the mess he made of your heart. “He makes everything feel like I’ve been walking past a door my whole life, and he is the idiot who opened it with his shoulder.”

Milena stared at you.

Then she laughed once, sharp and startled.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re gone too.”

You looked down, caught.

She seemed satisfied. “Good.”

“Is that approval?”

“That is me deciding not to be difficult.”

“You were being difficult?”

“Dušo,” she said, and now her smile had teeth in it, “I was being polite.”

When you returned to the kitchen, Valko was waiting near the doorway as if he had tried to remain seated and failed.

His eyes moved from you to Milena. “What did you say to her?”

Milena walked past him. “That you were adopted.”

“I’m not.”

“Emotionally, you're a wet dog we found in the rain.”

He watched her go, wounded on principle, then turned to you with genuine concern. “What did she actually say?”

You reached up and brushed flour from his sleeve. “That you’re warm.”

“That was Baba.”

“Family consensus.”

His mouth twitched. “You are enjoying this.”

“I am.”

“You were supposed to be intimidated.”

“By Mika?”

“By the bloodline. The history. The general atmosphere of teeth.”

“Mika told me my palm says I’ll own a dog.”

Valko sighed.

You reached up and plucked the dish towel from his shoulder. “You have flour on your sleeve.”

He looked down, surprised, as if his own body had been making decisions without him. Then he looked back at you, and the kitchen noise faded once more, though this time it was only the two of you making the world small.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The question was casual enough for anyone else to miss the tremor underneath. You heard it. The naked, waiting part. You thought of his hand shaking outside the door. Baba Vesna taking your face between her palms, of bread steaming in your fingers, of honey cake divided in two, of Milena saying he doesn't bring people home.

“I’m all right,” you said. “Are you?”

Valko smiled too quickly. “I’m alive.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

His smile softened.

For once, he did not joke immediately. It cost him something. You could see it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, reaching for mischief and finding courage instead.

“I wanted them to like you,” he said. “I wanted you to like them.”

“I do”

“I wanted…” He stopped, then laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. Something stupid.”

He looked towards the kitchen, where his family had resumed their noise without mercy. Mika was accusing Luka of stealing the larger piece of cake. Baba Vesna had taken down a tin from the highest shelf, probably containing either biscuits or secrets.

“Valko, stop hiding her. I have photographs.”

Horror returned to his face with magnificent speed.

“No.”

“Yes,”

“No photographs.”

“Naked baby photos,” Mika added.

Valko went pale. “You do not have those.”

Teta Marika’s voice drifted after him, serene and deadly. “We have everything.”

He grabbed your hand. “We’re leaving.”

You let him pull you three steps before Baba Vesna appeared in the doorway holding a small album to her chest.

“Sit,” she said.

Valko sat.

It was remarkable how quickly a wolf could become a grandson.

For the next hour, they showed you the evidence of his life.

Valko missing two front teeth and glaring at the camera as though betrayed by dentistry. Valko asleep under the table with one hand buried in a dog’s fur. Valko at thirteen, all elbows and outrage, holding a fish half his size while crying because he had to put it back.

There was Valko covered in mud, Valko wearing a paper crown, Valko with Milena’s arm hooked around his neck while he pretended to hate her and leaned into her anyway. Valko standing beside Baba Vesna in the garden, holding a basket of tomatoes like he had been entrusted with the fate of nations.

Each photograph was another small door.

You had known him in pieces: the grin, the hunger, the awkward tenderness, the jokes he threw like branches over deep water. Here was the rest of him. Here was the child who had survived becoming himself because these hands had fed him, scolded him, dragged him upright, and remembered his softness when he tried to outgrow it.

At some point, while everyone argued over whether the goat incident happened before or after the soup incident, Valko bent close to you.

“You don’t have to keep looking,” he murmured.

You turned a page.

A tiny Valko stared up from the album, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

“Yes,” you said. “I do.”

He stared at you.

Then, very briefly, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

It lasted only a second. A shy, exhausted surrender. No one commented on it, though you knew every person in the room saw. That seemed to be another house rule. They would mock the wound, yes, but they protected the pulse.

Later, when the cups were cleared and the album returned to its shelf of holy embarrassments, you stepped outside for air.

The yard was cold, dark and soft around the edges. Herbs grew beneath the window, yhe old trees leaned towards the house as if listening. Behind you, the kitchen glowed gold, laughter pressing against the glass.

Valko followed after a moment, closing the door carefully behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You looked at him. “For what?”'

“The interrogation. The photographs. Mika. The marriage question. The soup litigation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Milena.”

“I like Milena.”

“That means she behaved.”

“She said she was being polite.”

He winced. “Then she liked you.”

You leaned back against the porch railing, and he stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, rocking once on his heels like he wanted to come closer and had forgotten the law of his own body.

Through the window, you could see Baba Vesna pretending to wipe the table while watching you both with shameless interest. You lifted a hand and waved.

She waved back.

Valko turned, saw her, and groaned. “For the love of...Baba.”

“She loves you.”

“That's her usual excuse for crimes.”

“It’s a good one.”

He looked back at you, and the teasing left him slowly, piece by piece. Out here, with the house at his back, he seemed caught between the wild thing and the loved thing. The wolf and the boy in the paper crown. The man who had brought you to the threshold with shaking hands and still tried to joke like fear could be made harmless if he gave it a funny name.

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

“Which part?”

“When Niko asked if you were keeping me.”

The question came lightly, too lightly. A feather laid over a blade.

You reached for him.

This time, Valko did not hesitate. He came into your space at once, as if pulled by a string tied somewhere behind his ribs. His hands settled at your waist, careful at first, then warmer when you didn't move away.

“I meant it,”

His eyes searched yours.

“For tonight?”

“For longer than that.”

He didn't kiss you immediately. Somehow, that made it worse. He stood there and let the answer enter him, slowly, like someone opening the door to a room he had been told was empty and finding it lit.

Inside, Mika yelled, “Are they kissing?”

Valko dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“Leave them. He is finally being normal.”

You laughed.

He looked at you then, and the last of his embarrassment broke open into something bright, something almost boyish

“Welcome home,” he said, very softly.

You touched his cheek.

Behind him, the old house breathed and creaked and held its golden noise. Inside, his family waited with tea, teeth, stories, and a place at the table already made yours.

“Welcome home, Valko.”

The words didn't even register before the left your mouth.

"Hey, Satoru... I want to ask you something- tell you, more like"

"Yeah? Go ahead"

You took a sharp breath. You can't believe you just said that... Were you seriously going to confess?? Right now? When you're literally in shorts and a t-shirt that is so lose, you look like it's hanger?

But you can't even deflect it now, he's looking at you expectantly. Might as well go for it. Better to get it off of your chest.

Hesitatingly, you start, "Satoru, I-"

The door bursts open with a bang. Ijichi barges in, yelling, "Mr. Gojo, there's an emergency!" He pants, taking deep breaths.

Satoru's reaction morphs into an annoyed one.

"I'm taking a break, can't you see? Tell someone else to-"

"You're being summoned by the higher-ups, sir!"

"Do I look like I give a fu-"

"Satoru, go." You told him, somewhat guiltily eager to get out of the conversation.

At his reaction, you started, "C'mon now. Can't have those poor old hags waiting, can we? They'll come after my ass, if they got to know you ditched them for me."

He pouted, before considering your words and standing up and turning to leave.

"What was it you wanted to say?"

"Never you mind, now. People are waiting for you."

He gave a small frown before leaving.

Satoru had decided. He was going to confess.

It took him a lot of nudges from Shoko and many more from Suguru to finally realize he liked you. No, loved you.

That's right. Satoru Gojo was in love with his childhood best friend. Satoru Gojo was in love with you.

The thought alone made him impossibly giddy and nervous.

So, with a bouquet of love and his heart on his sleeve, he made his way onto your room.

There you were in your room, braiding Nanako's hair, who was braiding Mimiko's hair. He let out a soft smile.

But that smile of his soon turned into a scowl. Because why the fuck was Suguru braiding your hair?

He didn't peg himself to be the overbearing one. He really didn't. Yet he couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation inside.

"[Name]..." Nananko started slowly.

"Yes honey?"

"When will you marry Suguru?"

You froze. Suguru's eyes widened. That fucker didn't even try to hide his amusement.

Marry? Marry!? What in the ever-loving fuck did she mean marry? You marrying Suguru? The idea alone made Satoru want to gag. He leaned in closer, now being able to see their faces albeit a bit blurry.

"M-marry?' You blushed.

"It isn't anything like that!" You stammered.

Suguru tugged lightly at your hair. "Really [Name]? I thought we had something!" He clutched his chest and gave a pout in mock-disappointment.

"You don't listen to her girls. We are getting married soon."

He really did like throwing you under the bus, huh? you wondered quietly.

Their eyes shined as they turned to you, hopeful. You let out a sigh as you glared at Suguru. Turning to the girls, you say, "It isn't like that. Like said, my dears."

"But Suguru sai-" "Maybe, she's just hiding that Satoru will be my best man."

That was the last straw. Satoru was fuming and heartbroken. He returned back to his dorm, the flowers already thrown in the nearby bin. It was one thing to tease. It was another to see your best friend shamelessly flirting with your crush.

Of course, there was the fact that he hadn't told anyone he had a crush on you. Maybe he shouldn't have left too soon. Or at the least, told Suguru about it. Would that have toned down the flirting?

Too bad for him, though. He missed what's next.

You were glaring daggers at Suguru. Suguru just shrugged, muttering something about girls and fantasies and go with its.

"Dear, don't listen to him, okay? Marriage is not just a union. It's a commitment. It needs support, understanding, love and trust. Obviously, you may not understand some of what I've said now, but one day you will, hmm?"

The girls glanced at each other, an understanding passing through them. Well, if they're going to get so long answers, it won't be soon before it turns into a boring lecture. Might as well avoid it.

The two of them shrugged before Nanako started playing with Mimiko's hair, and Mimiko with her dolls'.

"And Suguru." "Yeah?" "Erre es korakas..." "??"

Soon after, the girls were asleep, cuddling with each other, on your bed. You sighed as you realized you’ll have to spend the night at Shoko’s.

Turning to Suguru, you saw his smiling fondly at the girls. You softened a bit as you started, "Why did you say that?"

He turned to you. "Say what."

"That marriage thingy and all. Wait… Don’t tell me… You don’t have a crush on me, right?" You scrunched your nose in disgust, "You know I like Satoru. I-"

He hurriedly stopped your ramble, a bit disgusted himself at the idea.

"I’m gonna have to stop you there. Of course not! Ew. I never-"

"Did you just ‘ew’ me?"

"…"

"We’ll come back to that later. So you don’t like me like that, right?"

He looked away.

"Suguru!" you whisper-shouted.

"Kidding, kidding." He raised his hands up in surrender, giving you a shit-eating grin, then softening and continuing.

"I don’t. I mean I do love you. You’ve done a lot for me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to pay you back for that. I-"

His voice cracked a bit. "I care for you, just not in that way."

And he returned to his usual self. Of course he did.

"But I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t mind it if a certain white-haired sorcerer did, do you?"

"Wow. Real mature, Geto. I hope you step on a lego barefoot." You turned away to leave, your face warm.

"Oh my god, [Name], I’ve never seen that shade of red before. Do you have a fever?" He asked teasingly, behind you.

"Go to hell."

You didn't see or hear from Satoru for the next two days.

Apparently, he had gone with Utahime to supervise her mission while also having a mission of his own in Korea. Supervise because this mission could've been the one where she would've finally become an official grade one.

At least that was what Ijichi told you.

That very night, Utahime texted you.

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

heyy how you been??

you <33

hey hime! i'm all good, wby? haven't heard from u for days got a bit worried how's ur mission so far??

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

oh, you heard? well, guess who got promoted to grade-1?

you <33

OMG!! congratulations girlie!!! 🥳🥳 party when?

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

tonight

you <33

wait rlly??

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

you bet😉 also, i've got smth important to tell you

you <33

spill

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

not now tonight at 8

you <33

is that ur way of asking me out??😳😳

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

as much as i'd love to, no😞 Sho, Geto and Satoru will also be there

you <33

celebratory dinner!! count me in

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

don't bail out

you <33

on god congrats again!!🎉🥳

LETHAL FACE CARD😘

TYSM!! 💋💋

You were happy for Utahime, you really were. She was a first-grade now! Hell, she surpassed you. You were the only weak link now.

But it was meant to be, wasn't it? Fighting never was your strongest suit.

Now then, a party. A dinner party but a party, nevertheless. You winced as you remembered the last time you went to a party. Not really your finest moment...

If it was a celebratory party, then a gift was necessary. But what to give?

Sweets? She hates them. Goodies? Too cheap. A pair of earrings? Too formal.

You know what? Fuck it. You'll go with the good 'ole bouquet. You smile at yourself, childishly proud, and then giggle.

So, with a rough idea of what to buy, you left your apartment.

By the time you returned, it was already 7. You started scrambling, looking through your wardrobe hurriedly, taking a quick shower.

Quickly changing into your dress and doing your makeup, you looked at yourself in the mirror, so put together. You gave a soft smile to yourself.

You looked good. You felt good. Your pretty dress was flowy, just the right mix of comfort and formal. Your heels even prettier.

Satisfied with yourself, you take a look at the time.

7:50 pm.

Shit, you were going to be late. You rushed, bouquet in one hand, your purse in another.

Reaching there, you were greeted by Shoko first.

"Lookin' hot..." She whistled.

You smiled, "You look beautiful, yourself."

Suguru soon joined you. "You both look quite pretty."

"Wish I could say the same about you..." Shoko muttered while you replied with: "Thanks... You look, okay. I guess."

"Really?" He deadpanned.

"Do you want us to say the truth, or do you want us to lie to you?" She asked.

"The truth."

"You don't look homeless for the first time in months." You blurted out. Shoko chuckled under her breath.

"Why do the two of you always gang up on me?" He crossed his arms.

"I don't know, man."

She shrugged, "[Name], why do we?"

"Is it the bangs?" "It's defo the bangs."

"Oh, fuck you guys." He groaned, as Satoru and Utahime found you.

"Hey guys!"

"Hi..."

"Congratulations, Hime!" "Congrats..."

"Thank you girls..." She beamed, as she hugged you and Shoko.

"Congratulations." Suguru offered a handshake.

"Thanks, I guess," She gritted, as she gripped his hand as tightly as she could muster.

He sighed. "I called you 'old' one time... Learn to let things go."

"I mean, you are older than us by 3 years." Shoko added.

Utahime pinched the bridge of her nose, while Satoru laughed under his breath. "Can't believe he corrupted you."

All of you moved towards the table, sitting down. Then abruptly Utahime stood up.

She motioned to Satoru, and he smiled, before getting up from his seat, and standing next to her. Hand in hand.

You had a sinking feeling in your gut. And an idea where this was headed. This was going to be...

"I've got something to tell to you three. You're the first ones to know..." She grinned, her smile impossibly wide. "Me and Satoru are dating."

That isn't right.... You must've heard it wrong. But the way he pulled her in a hug, right after he had kissed her hand spoke for itself.

Suguru and Shoko glanced at you. Oh, they were pitying you for sure. Who wouldn't? You spend years pining over your best friend, only for him to start dating a friend you introduced to him.

How did this even happen? Wasn't she the one who always complained about how annoying he was. Wasn't she the one who-

You shook your head. This was wrong. These thoughts were wholly and completely wrong. You should be happy for them. But you didn't know how long you could keep pretending. Your acting wasn't really good, your face an open book for others.

You congratulated them, joked about how if he slips up, you'll be there to woo her away. Fuck, your breaths were getting shallower. You stood up suddenly.

"I just remembered, I have a mission the first thing tomorrow." You yelped.

"I'm so sorry, Hime. But I've got to prepare for it." You said it all quickly, not giving them a chance to speak, or even react.

You gave her a quick hug, spewed some goodbyes and sorrys and exited the building.

Ah, of course! Here comes the tears.

Rolling down, they scratched your cheeks. You didn't even notice, you were too depressed to. Not until it fell down and

Smash!

You were scared.

Fucking terrified, if you'll be honest.

I mean, who wouldn't be if they saw their tears shattering like marbles?

The corner of your eyes is stinging, burning so bad as if someone set them on fire. Your head is pounding and the bright lights does not help.

Deep breaths, you thought, deep fucking breaths.

Hold it in. You heaved as you called a taxi.

Hold it in. You sat inside, as the car moved. The city outside blurring into one big mess.

You pressed your forehead to the window, as you watched the world move on without you. Hold it the fuck in.

Your mind was a bit numb as you made your way to your apartment. But as soon as you stepped inside and the door clicked shut, you broke down right there on the floor, still in your pretty dress and pretty heels.

Your vision blurred, your eyes ached, your head throbbed. But the crystals rolling down didn't stop.

They continued to fall down, smashing against the ground. You plucked one that had fallen in your lap.

Blue. Pale azure blue.

You didn't sleep the entire night.

You were still there, leaning on the door like it's your only support. Still in your pretty dress and pretty heels.

my gf💖

hey bbg r u not well?? u have been ignoring me for a while now haven't seen each other in 3 days...

you <33

hey sho!! i'm fine just a little under the weather and i didn't mean to ignore you :( there's just a lot of paperwork

my gf 💖

it doesn't matter m outside ur door

you <33

noo pls don't come in you do NOT want to see me like this

my gf 💖

i've seen worse omw to ur room

Shoko knocks on your door, before letting herself in. You quickly try to hide yourself in your blanket, even though you know it's futile.

"Heyy..." She began. "[Name]?"

You sat up, trying to hide your face though. Couldn't let her see the scratches the tears leave behind.

"Are you alright...?"

You couldn't control yourself.

Shoko had seen stars before.

Beautiful things, aren't they? She thought so too. She was especially fond of them.

After all, they used to keep her away from the ugly violence of her clan, from the bad words and worse truths. Hell, they even accompanied her when she ran away from that rotten place.

Never in her life, she thought it'd hurt to see them.

Yet nothing, nothing, could've prepared her for the crystals forming in your eyes.

They were pretty too, like the ones she used to gaze at when she wanted a getaway from the world.

She watched as you took a sharp breath, your eyes widening in shock and guilt. Your eyes prickled with tears, yet they came down as crystals.

How could something be so beautiful yet equally horrifying at the same time, she wondered quietly, partly awe, partly worried.

She couldn't help but stare as a few rolled over your cheeks and into your lap. Curiosity got the better of her as she picked one up to get a better look.

Though transparent at first glance, they soon turned a pretty shade of pale azure blue. The exact shade of his eyes.

As soon as the realization set in, she immediately wrapped her arms around you, shushing you, while you tried to explain that you didn't mean to hide this and that you would've told her eventually.

"I swear I didn't mean to hid-" Your voice was muffled next as she continued to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

"Shh, hey, it's alright. You don't have to tell me anything, shh." She whispered sweet nothings to you as she tried to lull you into sleep. She knew you needed it, the bags under your eyes spoke enough.

After a while of comfort and assurances, you laid fast asleep in her arms. She stroked your hair, as she wondered.

She wondered how you were in love with Satoru, that much was obvious. How he was in love with you too. Though in severe denial.

How while your crush, your love for him is pretty clear. How his is much less noticeable.

How he got a girlfriend, three days after your first failed attempt at confessing. How even though he was, definitely, in love with you, he refused to acknowledge it. Going as far as to hurting you without even knowing.

If she remembered well, you could be going blind.

Blind.

All because you loved a boy.

The thought alone gave her a violent urge to punch him right now. But she couldn't leave you alone, not like this. Not when you were so tired and vulnerable.

Somewhere, along the way, maybe it was her fault too. For giving you hope, making you believe that maybe, just maybe, you and Satoru were meant to be. That it was only a matter of time.

You were there with her, for the ups and downs, highs and lows. You gave her a place to stay when she had run away.

And now, she couldn't even help you. How could she? While negative emotions are related to sorcery in their own wicked way, they can't change it, can they?

Using RCT on you would be a far cry from help. RCT reverses the state of the body, not emotions. But who knows? Maybe they could work. But what if it becomes worse? She shudders.

Well, there was one thing she could do, make you feel a little better, make you cry less. Because crying would mean losing you. And Shoko would rather not lose one more of one of the best things of her life.

But then the question arises. How?

Should she cook something for you? Nah, she's terrible at it.

Maybe buy something for you? No way. Knowing you, you'd probably feel you're being pitied.

Then what? Take you somewhere? A big no-no. She may be all suave and nonchalant, but she's too introverted for that.

She was running out of options now... Maybe she should cook, even though she's never done it before.

A simple pancake.

Yeah! A simple pancake. You love pancakes and you always say that 'it isn't really hard' and how she 'should try making it' because you know she 'will enjoy it a lot...'

After all, it couldn't be that hard...

Right?

Well, partially wrong.

When you came down, the kitchen was a mess. But the house wasn't on fire, so an A+ for her efforts you supposed. (yay, a pat for her!!)

"Hey, Sho," You started sleepily "What's this?"

"What?" she hums, "Oh this. I tried making pancakes today."

You raised a brow in surprise. "You? Stepping into the kitchen? Did the sun rise from the west?"

"God forbid a girl tries something new."

"That's the thing, Sho. You never try something new. Like never." You sighed.

"Well, I did now, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes.

"Just eat." She glances at the mess in the kitchen. "I'll clean up in the meantime."

The pancakes were surprisingly edible good. A bit burnt around the edges and a bit raw from the inside, but good. At least for someone who's making them for the first time.

After you were well-fed and the kitchen was spotless (you forced her to scrub the pan thrice), the two of you made your way onto your couch. Plopping down, the two of you sat in a somewhat awkward silence.

You knew she was buzzing with questions, the gears in her head twisting and turning. But you also know she wouldn't dare ask, she didn't want to overstep.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you watched her glance at you for the nth time as you were a live bomb.

"Just ask and get it over with already, Sho." "Huh?"

You gave her a look.

"Okay so, uhh," she cleared her throat forcibly and started hesitantly, "What's it called?"

"... That is your first question?"

"In my defense, it's not every day I see my best friend bawling out diamonds." She crossed her arms.

"Fair," you shrugged, "It's called star tears. It is a super rare disease. Like rarest of rare. And in this disease, a person cries, coughs or tears up crystals instead of water."

"And why does it happen?" She questioned.

"..."

"[Name], why does it happen?"

"Intense emotional turmoil, sadness, depression, or..." You mumble the next words inaudibly.

"Come again?"

"Unrequited love...."

"'Unrequited love.'" She repeats, the words leaving a sour taste on her tongue.

You didn't feel the need to tell because of who it was. She knew it. And you knew that she knew.

"Tell me more about it." She diverts.

"Well, after a person is diagnosed with star tears, they slowly go blind."

She drew a sharp breath. "Excuse me."

"My bad, should've framed it better. They slowly go color blind-"

She let out a sigh in relief. "We can do color blind."

"-and then blind." You completed.

She shut up for a second. After a moment, she replies in a monotone tone, though her voice wavered. "And then?"

You looked away. "And that's it..."

She gave you a suspicious glance. "You're not telling me something."

"The person's tear ducts will be damaged forever. They can't cry even if they want to. And even if they somehow will, they'll be crying blood."

She didn't reply. Didn't even look at you. Then as she was about to say something, you cut her off.

"And no. RCT does not work on it. It just speeds it up."

"And how do you know that?" She questioned.

"Because I tried it."

A moment of silence.

When she spoke, her voice was hardened. "[Name]. You're... Why? Do you even know how to use it properly."

"I know the basics, you were the one who taught me that." You tried to defend yourself.

"And there's no way to undo it?"

"Not that people know of."

She just nodded.

"Look, Sho. I wanted to tell you all that. I swear I did. Please don't be mad. I-"

She hugged you. "Calm your pretty head. It's alright. You were scared."

"Okay now. Are you losing the ability to see colors?"

"A bit."

She cursed under her breath. "Try not to cry much. Can you do that for me?"

You gave small chuckle under your breath. "You make it sound as if I'm dying."

Her grip tightened. "Don't joke about that." She scolded sternly.

"My bad..."

After that day, you slowly started going out again, though you still preferred staying home. You only stuck to hoodies and pants and shorts. The safer choices. You'd rather not risk it and look like a, say, a Christmas tree.

Shoko started spending more time at your house than hers. And you were really thankful for that, because it sure as hell got lonely.

You were crying less now, courtesy of Shoko. She tried to distract you every moment she could. But her efforts were futile.

Because soon the whole world has turned black and white for you. And even sooner you were having trouble seeing things even a bit far from you.

The two of you never mentioned his name, not if you could help it.

She had told the boys you were sick and drowning in paperwork. And now, it was almost three months since you last saw them.

Then Suguru ruined it all by texting you.

bun-man🐵

yo, angel how you been?? heard you aren't well hope you get better❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

you <33

hey, sugu just a seasonal fever y'know

bun-man🐵

girl... when will you start taking care of youself anyways, we're having a movie marathon tonight think you're well enough to join?

you <33

i dunno...

bun-man🐵

i mean if you want to of course no pressure actually a bit pressure becuz literally everyone misses you here and by everyone i mean me and satoru (and also the girls), but you get the point

you <33

I'll try...

bun-man🐵

awesome!! will save some popcorn for you inform me or shoko if you're coming, yeah?

you <33

alright...

When you arrived there, you made sure you avoided him.

You always stuck to Shoko, following her like she was your lifeline. In a way, she was. Your anchor.

You joked with Suguru, laughed with Shoko, but made sure you didn't even look at him. You didn't know if you could bear it.

But luck was not on your side, it seems.

You were left alone with Satoru, while Suguru and Shoko were in the kitchen, hopefully not cursing each other's bloodline.

A bit of small talk was all it took to get you laxed near him. Soon, you were laughing with him, while worrying about Shoko and Suguru because those two cannot be trusted alone. You just hope the two aren't smoking again.

"Say, [Name], which of these do you think she'll like?" He pulled out his phone and showed you two photos. Two necklace sets.

One a blackish color, which actually must be another dark color. Probably blue. The other one a bit lighter, you're guessing a few shades lighter than the other one.

"Which one do you think'll suit her more?"

"The second one. Blue doesn't go with her hair."

He looked at you, dropping his phone in his lap. "They're both red."

"I know, just checking your eyes" You brushed him off, looking anywhere but at him.

"Ok, look. I know you don't like me dating her, but could you at least pretend to be happy for me?" He was getting irritated by your behavior.

"Oh my gods, you're such a shitty friend!" You looked down, as he continued.

"Why are you doing this, huh? Because I'm not talking to you like I did before? Some sappy shit like that? Is that what this is? Stop being so pathetic!" He mocked you.

"Oh, great! Now you're crying!"

And sure enough, you were. Your body shaking uncontrollably, as you attempted to hide the crystals rolling down your cheek.

"For fuck's sake, [Name]! Stop victimizing yourself for one minute!" He groaned as Suguru and Shoko ran in at the commotion.

"Shut up.."

"What was that?"

You looked up, your eyes red, crystals scarring your cheeks. "Shut the fuck up! I'm not 'pathetic'! I'm not victimizing myself, you little-" You stopped yourself, while Satoru and Suguru gaped at you, dumbfounded.

"What th-" Was he seeing correct? There's no way...

How the hell could you be crying crystals?

Suguru had to make a choice. It was an easy one, to be honest.

His best friend or his saving grace.

To make it even easier, his best friend was clearly in the wrong.

"Satoru, I want you to leave."

"What?" Satoru barked, now getting angry and impatient. "The fuck you mean le-"

"Satoru, I need you to leave right this instant." He started ushering him out.

"I'll explain it all to you tomorrow, all that I'll be allowed. I swear I will. But right now? You can't be here."

Satoru shoved him and came back to take his phone. Pocketing it, he left, stomping angrily.

Click!

Suguru locked the door and came at your side. He looked a bit disheveled.

You looked in his eyes, eyes full of concern and worry. Maybe even a little bit of guilt.

Guilt? You wondered. Why should he be guilty? Maybe you were imagining it. That must be it.

Yet there he was. Calm on the exterior, always in control wasn't he, even when he was spiraling. But on the inside, he was drowning in guilt.

You were the one who saw him when he was lost. Who stepped up when he didn't know what to do.

And what did he give you in return?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The least he could've done was knock some sense in Satoru. And he failed at that too.

"Should I get you something? Water? Chocolate?" He led you and Shoko the couch. "Sit down. I-"

"It's alright, Sugu..." You gave a small, tired smile. "It's alright, I'm fine."

"But you aren't!" He insisted in disbelief, starting to fuss again.

He had always admired your compassionate nature. Though, you were said to be the 'weakest' between the four of you, being a semi grade one, your patience surpassed that of anyone he knew.

You, with Shoko's help, explained everything to him. He just nodded. Though, you noticed his knuckles whitening at times.

"You can tell it all. To Satoru, I mean." You clarified.

Shoko and Suguru looked at you in surprise.

"No, we don't. [Name], what do you-"

"Are you sure? We don't have to." Suguru asked, concern dripping in his voice.

"I know. But what does it matter now. He's probably figured it all out himself."

That shut the both of them.

"Well, if you want me to, then I respect your decision. But in case you ever change your mind. Tell me."

He glanced at the clock. "It's getting late. If you want. I've got a spare room. And then there's my room. I'll just take the couch. You two can stay the night if you want."

The two of you nodded. You hesitated. Then muttered, "Can we all cuddle? I'm scared. And I don't know why."

Suguru and Shoko shared a knowing look. Then gave you a gentle smile.

"Anything you want."

Satoru was confused. And hurt.

He sat on the rooftop of the dorms, thinking it would clear his mind. Spoiler alert: it didn't do shit.

He unfurled his hand, to see a small crystal resting on his palm. Inspecting it closely, he noted that it was a translucent but bright shade of blue, like the color of his eyes.

He had pocketed it when he had picked up his phone.

He frowned as he remembered your actions earlier. Were you going blind? Nah. No way. He hasn't seen anyone with a stricter diet than yours. Always too hard on yourself.

He stared at the crystal in his. He was getting more and more confused by the second. He was sure he had seen tears in your eyes, yet when they rolled down, he could swear they were more solid, to say the least. But how?

He thought about how the two of you have been for the past month. There was only one word for it. Distant. The two of you have been distant.

You were slowly pulling away, and he had noticed it. Of course, he had. He noticed everything about you. except your love. But he didn't do anything about it. Is that where he went wrong?

Now that he thinks about it, why didn't he? He thought long and hard. Why? And when the answer surfaced, he couldn't help but feel ashamed. He was scared. Scared of what he might do. Because he still loves you. Hell, he never stopped loving you.

Another pill of hot shame scratched his throat. Utahime...

She had been a distraction. A diversion. From his feelings.

He laughs at himself as he remembers how readily he had gone to confess his feelings, when he had realized he loved you. No care about the consequences. No worry about the what ifs.

What if you didn't like him back. And that made things awkward between you? Or worse. What if you were disgusted by him? And you decided to cut ties. What if-

He slapped himself mentally. Now what was the point? When you didn't even want to see hi-

A memory returns. A small conversation, a passing remark. About something called 'star tears'.

His eyes widened as he gripped the crystal in his palm, the realization hitting him like a truck. He had utterly and royally fucked up. He had to make things right.

And he had to do it now.

Crack!

Utahime peeked from her kitchen, just to see Satoru standing in the middle of the living room. She knew it would be him. Because unlike any other sane human being, he had the habit of directly teleporting instead of walking through the door.

"What are you doing here at this time?" She asked.

"What are you doing?" He retorted.

"I was making ramen. You know, cravings." She answered, as if that explained everything.

He cracked a small smile, before his face went back to its serious, slightly panicked expression.

"Look, Utahime, we have a problem. We need to-"

"Sit." She cut him off.

"Sit down and catch your breath. Stop yapping like a lunatic." She disappeared into the kitchen, only to emerge back with a glass of water.

Handing it to him, she made herself comfortable next to him. "Now start."

"We need to break up."

She looked at him, blinked hard and slow. Then responded with: "Did something happen to [Name]?"

"No? I mean yes! Why did you even jump to that conclusion?"

"I just assumed. I mean, since we've started dating, you've been a bit fidgety whenever she is mentioned, eager to change the topic." She shrugged off. "Satoru, explain everything. Don't rush."

And off he went. He told her everything that happened that evening. About how you were 'just joking'. About how you cried tears, but instead this fell from your eyes (he showed her they crystal and insisted he knew what he saw). About how he stormed off.

"I think she's got star tears. And I also think that it's because of m-"

"I'm gonna have to stop you there. What's 'star tears' again?"

He groaned as he opened up his phone and searched it up.

star tear disease is an extreme medical rarity, where the victim cries shining, crystal-like stars due to intense emotional turmoil, sadness, depression, and/or unrequited love.

She gasped, as he scrolled further.

in some cases, the star tears may affect the victim's photoreceptors, making them not be able to see colour, and in even rarer cases, it may cause the victim to go blind.

"That sounds so... And you're sure [Name], has it? I- Oh gods!" She slumped back.

"It's not your fault." He tried reassuring her.

"But it is!" She exclaimed. "It is my partially my fault. If only we haven't dated."

Satoru shuffled guiltily.

"What?" She snapped.

"I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now... I don't actually like you." He looked away. He couldn't bear to see the hurt look on her face.

A moment.

"Then why did you say yes...?" She approached gently.

"I just-" He couldn't help it. The words flowed on their own.

He apologized repeatedly. Explained what he had eavesdropped between you and Suguru. Apologized again, because dating her was only a distraction. So, that he could take you off his mind.

Utahime was surprised. It wasn't an everyday sight that you saw the strongest lose his composure.

She sighed as she stopped his rambling.

"Satoru... If we're going to be completely honest, then I am sorry too."

He frowned. "What do you...?"

"I knew she liked you."

His eyes widened. "You- You what?"

"Let me explain. She never really said it. But the way she acted I supposed she did. And the way you acted around her, I was sure you did too." She started slowly.

"Then I realized I had a crush on you. A small one. It was now, I understood it was respect. I mistook admiration for love. And I'm very sorry for that." She lowered her head.

"I wondered why the two of you weren't dating yet," she went on.

"And then I thought, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are what you say. Maybe you're just friends. Which is why, I took my chance. I asked you out."

The two sat in silence, processing each other's words.

"I-"

"Don't."

She smiled. "You didn't even know what I was going to say."

"You were going to apologize, weren't you?" He raised a brow.

When she didn't reply, he said. "It's alright. I get it. Anyone would've done the same."

"I suppose we're over now." She spoke.

"I guess we are." He nodded.

"It was good while it lasted." He gave her a smile.

"Can you help me?" He begged asked.

"Sure... But what about [Name]?"

"It's about her. I don't know how to continue..." He admitted.

"Oh, that's simple. Clear things up. Tell her about your feeling. Tell her about it all."

"It's better said than done." He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please. She'll give you a smile, and you'd probably tell her the secrets of the universe." She grinned.

"Just do what we did now. Talk truthfully."

She went to the kitchen again and returned with a bowl of ramen. "You should stay the night. It's quite late. I have a spare room."

"I know..." He turned to the guest room.

"And Satoru?"

"Yeah?"

"Sleep. Trust me when I say you don't want to look like a panda when you talk to her tomorrow."

You were not sleeping. So were the two people beside you.

Three pairs of eyes blinked in the dark, unsure of what do. Do you talk? Do you just sleep? Oh gods, what if you touch each other in sleep inappropriately by accident?

Shoko was fine, since you were in between, but Suguru... He wanted to crawl in a hole and die for even letting that thought cross his mind. He tried to shift, giving you some space. His mind raced, as he thought about all that had happened today.

The awkward and congested silence was soon broken by a giggle, that left your mouth.

"What?" Shoko asked.

"Nothing... It's just, a bit weird isn't it?" You continued giggling.

"What is?" Suguru enquired.

"That I'm going blind, just because I loved a boy."

Someone really needed to teach you how to read the room.

"The wrong boy..." Shoko grumbled.

"You think that's funny...?" Suguru droned.

"God forbid a girl makes a fun of her own problems." You quipped, rolling your eyes (not like anyone can see it).

"That's not what I meant..." He sighed, "All I mean to say is-"

He cuts himself off. "You know what? Forget it."

"I sure am. I'm forgetting the world for the next few hours." Shoko muttered sleepily.

"You are no fun," you pouted.

"You know what," you said to the walls. "I think me and Satoru were just not written in the stars... You get what I mean? You get it right...? 'Not in the stars'" You air quoted the words.

"You didn't tell me there was a stage where they make bad jokes about their condition." He said to Shoko.

She just shrugged in response. "I didn't know there was one."

"Oh c'mon! It was a good one!" You insisted.

"It wasn't." They replied in unison.

"Aww..."

The three of you lied in peace, the atmosphere lighter. Then suddenly, Suguru sat up.

"Guys, I've got it... At least I think I do..." His voice was hesitant, but he was a bit pleased with himself.

"What if you used RCT on her?"

The table lamp lit up. You and Shoko sat up and shared a look.

"I just said something dumb, didn't I?" He sighed, already accepting his fate. The two of you ignored him.

"We didn't tell him everything?" "We didn't tell him everything."

"So, what happened was, someone with a non-functioning brain of hers decided to use RCT on herself, without consultation." She began.

"It was me." You chimed in miserably.

"The thing is, RCT heals the whole thing. Then the destruction starts again, but it's faster now."

He gaped at you. "Oh.. Um... Wow, I-"

"Wow?" Shoko echoed.

"No, I mean-"

"Skill issue on my side, I guess..."

"[Name]!"

"Nah, 'cuz, every time a tear falls down, I can just hear my mind going like -1hp, -1hp, -1hp."

"[NAME]!"

You laughed as the three of you bantered the night away.

Satoru was going crazy.

He went to your house, just to see you weren't there. He then went to Shoko's place, just to see it locked. That only left Suguru's apartment.

Did you spend the night there?

Jealousy was an ugly feeling. Green never really was Satoru's color.

Reaching there, he banged on the door. The door opened, revealing an annoyed Suguru, yawning and half-asleep. He frowned, "What are you doing here? She does not want to see you right n-"

"Who is it?" Shoko yelled from across the room.

"No one!" He answered back. Turning to Satoru, he said, "Listen Gojo, whatever it is you want with her, do it later. Actually, just don't do it at all. Lea-"

"It's alright, Sugu. Let them in."

"Wha- But..." He spluttered.

"And what do you mean the-" Utahime gave a small wave from behind. "Oh, ahem," he cleared his throat rather aggressively.

"Come in."

You, Satoru and Utahime sat down as Suguru and Shoko stood behind you like bodyguards.

After they were settled, you spoke before any of the others could. "No, I don't hate you, Hime... Whatever happened to me wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's..."

Utahime closed her mouth, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

You panicked, thinking you said something wrong. "Why are you crying? I overspoke, didn't I? I am so sor-"

She flicked your forehead as she sniffled. "Dumbass. Are you a mind reader of sort?" She hugged you.

You reveled in it, soaking the warmth. Might as well. Who knows? Maybe this is the last time you get to see her.

The two of you broke up, while the looming figures behind you continued glaring daggers at Satoru. If looks could kill, he would've been 12ft under.

He shuffled in his place as he started. "[Name]..." But under Suguru and Shoko's murderous judging gaze, the words refused to leave his mouth.

Understanding his train of thought, you ask them to leave, much to Shoko and Suguru's dismay.

"[Name], you want us to leave you alone with a man who got you colorblind? What's gotten into y-" "He's the reason you can't see anything beyond this couch! Are you really sure?'

Satoru felt sick and hurt. He didn't know it had gotten that bad.

"Please... I'm sure."

Suguru nodded in understanding, dragging Shoko with him while Utahime followed them. You moved and shut the door.

When you returned, you rambled in one breath, wanting to get it off of your chest finally.

"Yes, I've been lying about having too much work. No, I didn't mean to ignore you and I really am happy for you and Utahime. Yes, I do have star tears. No, you don't need to break up with Utahime... Not if you really love her."

A sigh. And at last.

"And yes, I love you."

There. You said it. Put it in front of him as clearly as you could.

You looked away, though Satoru noticed you weren't as tense as before.

Satoru came in front of you and fell to his knees, cautiously approaching you. Seeing as you don't pull away, he buries his face in your lap, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability.

He didn't realize he was crying, not until he heard a soft and surprised gasp leave your lips as you cupped his cheeks, making him look up. Wiping his tears with the pads of your thumb, you mutter his name under your breath.

"I-" His voice cracked. "I am so sorry. So so so sorry... If only I had known- And I had realized earlier, I- I messed up so bad, I didn't mean to," hic, "I was such a tsundere. And I so convinced myself I didn't like you like that, when deep down I knew I loved you for as long as I remember. And I thought that-" He stopped mid-yapping as he saw the crystals leave your eyes.

He could hear his heart breaking. The view in front of him. Oh gods...

You looked ethereal. So beautiful yet haunting. All while you cried pretty sapphires.

His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to say something, anything. Yet the words dare not leave his mouth.

"Satoru... I-"

His voice finally found him as he repeated, "I love you. I have loved you since forever. When Utahime asked me out, I thought. I didn't even know if I thought or not. I was convinced you liked Suguru. The way you- If only I had known, you wouldn't have..."

He glanced at the crystals in your lap. The tears started flowing again. He couldn't help it.

You suffered so much... All because he deluded himself into thinking something else.

"[Name], I love you." He started again. "And I-"

You smashed your lips against his, effectively shutting him up. His eyes widened, but soon he relaxes and leans into you, his hands on your waist.

The kiss was messy, to say the least. It was desperate and raw and fragile and precious. You tried to pour everything in it. Everything you couldn't say, couldn't name.

So did he. He tried to express everything, things he wasn't even sure of. Things he didn't have the courage. Things he should've said.

The two of you broke apart, red in the face, gasping for air. You were still dazed from the kiss.

So much so, you didn't even notice it at first.

"[Name]..." He started tentatively, breaking your trance. You gaze into his blue eyes, his white hair sticking to his pale skin, his cheeks a bright shade of red.

Wait...

"OH MY GOD!" You yelped.

"What!?" He panicked, looking around.

"I can see them, Toru! I can see colors again! And your eyes. And-"

This time he initiated the kiss. It was soft and slow, your bodies melting into each other.

But you broke up soon. Too soon.

Probably because you were grinning like an idiot in love. He wore the cheshire grin rather well, though. The two of you giggled, your foreheads touching, your breaths ghosting each other's lips.

"I love you..." He smiled.

"I love you too, you dumbass. But let me be clear about this, you're barely hanging in there. You better buy me anything and everything for at least a year." You grin widened.

"Only a year? I'll buy you anything you like for the rest of your life."

"Ahem!"

The two of you turned to see Shoko, Suguru and Utahime standing awkwardly in front of you.

"I'm happy for you and all, but can you not make out on my couch...?"

"Why? You wanna join?" Satoru 'offered'. Suguru made a disgusted face. You hid your face in Satoru's chest.

"Can I?" Shoko asked. "No!" Satoru roared. "Aww man.."

Suguru shook his head like a disappointed mother of two.

"Is now a bad time to announce I'm lesbian...?"

"Congrats, Hime..." "So, can I hit it?" "I fucking knew it!" "Don't tell me it took you being with me to realize that!"