to the top

shinkai gasps, rising from his bed to head to his doorframe, where he retrieves a treasure, a gift, a snickers bar. without wasting a moment he heads out and right into fukutomi’s dorm.   

gentle  thumbs  glide  over  the  heat  of  the  wound  and  despite  just  speaking  about  it,  it  takes  a  moment  for  his  inability  to  do  anything  about  it  kicks  in.  he  makes  a  mental  note  to  add  aloe  vera  to  the  next  grocery  run.  he  determines  it  is  not  serious  but  aches,  nevertheless,  for  the  larger  discomfort  it  represents;  that  the  skin  will  pucker  and  peel  and  leave  behind  evidence  that  things  are  different.

lio's  smile  remains  in  place,  softened  in  its  indecision  to  allow  the  sadness  its  place  or  push  passed  it.  “ i’m  fine, ”  it  has  the  quickness  to  escape  of  an  automatic  response.  there  have  been  a  lot  of  people  asking  him  that  question  lately  —  he  would  reckon  just  as  many  asking  his  comrade  the  same.  it  is  not  wholly  honest  though,  and  immediate  guilt  drags  his  gaze  up  from  his  finished  inspection  to  make  a  silent  apology.  if  there  are  only  two  people  who  have  any  true  indication  of  what  he’s  going  through,  gueira  is  one  of  them.  considerate  to  not  touch  where  the  burn  will  be  affected,  lio  gives  his  hand  a  gentle  squeeze  before  letting  go.  “ some  days  it’s  easier  than  others…  and  some  days  i  stand  in  a  dark  room  because  i  forget  i  need  to  turn  on  a  light  switch. ”

gueira  is  right.  they  are  like  glass.  so  easy  to  break.  lio  sighs,  picking  out  his  words  carefully,  “ we  were  always  human,  we  were  never  immortal  to  begin  with  but  is  it  too  egotistical  to  admit…  i  feel  a  little  like  we  went  from  being  small  gods,  creation  hot  in  the  palms  of  our  hands,  to  being  ordinary  mortals  again? ”  lio  thinks  it  might  have  been.  a  flush  rises  to  his  face,  the  heat  of  it  not  nearly  as  pleasant  as  the  one  he  misses.  it  would  have  been  easier  and  less  self - important  to  say  he  feels  useless;  like  the  purpose  has  been  sucked  out  of  him.  who  is  he  now  that  he  does  not  have  burnish  people  to  protect?  now  that  he  is  not  one  of  them  himself?  “ how  are  you  handling  things,  mortal  fragility  aside? ”

although expected, gueira still gives a wry smile at the other’s more automatic response. how many times has he been pestered with those words? how many times has he himself given that very same response in these past few weeks? he can’t blame lio. can he ever? taking his hand back, lets his fingers tap a nonsensical rhythm against his thigh. 

and the response truly pains him, because he can relate so precisely. even when his words turn a touch poetic, toeing egotistical, gueira can find no fault. even amongst their own kind they were powerful. their armor a step ( or three ) above the rest. it’s hard not to feel so fucking vulnerable at the drastic change. 

but at the very least, lio gets a bark of a laugh out of him. maybe it’s still a bit bitter, but that can be look past for the time being. uninjured hand reaches up to card through his hair; neck craning back so he can gaze above before it’s back on lio. 

a  pang  tightens  his  chest  at  the  title,  familiar  and  oddly  nostalgic  considering  it  is  the  only  thing  that  seems  to  have  not  changed.  lio  knows  exactly  feeling.  he’d  burned  his  hands  in  a  sink  of  all  things  that  morning.  funny  that  something  used  to  extinguish  could  do  the  opposite.

a  huff  escapes,  not  quite  swayed  to  a  particular  emotion  but  there  is  a  shadow  of  amusement  on  his  lips.  “ yeah  —  yeah.  strange  to  know  hot  things  burn,  ”  lio  says,  as  if  it  is  not  common  knowledge  that  they  used  to  be  two  of  the  burning  things.  his  voice  sits  in  a  weird  place,  wistful  but  a  shade  darker.  “ but  forget  where  the  line  is?  or…  to  have  to  learn  there  is  a  line  to  begin  with,  i  guess.  it  is  easy  to  remember  ice  is  cold,  than  it  is  to  remember  burns  don’t  feel  hot  while  they’re  burning  now  that  we… ”  there’s  a  pause  where  burnish  would  be,  “ …don’t  heal  immediately. ”  he  spares  a  smile,  knowing,  if  a  bit  sad  and  gestures  for  gueira’s  hand  to  inspect  the  wound  himself.

there’s a moment when he wonders if he should’ve said anything at all. if only because he hates seeing that look on lio’s face. but then he waves it off, their boss is strong enough to take some passing words of frustration. they’ve been through worse. but there’s always something heavy about lio’s words. probably because even now, he puts so much stock into them.

without hesitation, he wipes his finger on his shirt before placing it in the other’s waiting hand. and there’s a warmth there when he does, it’s nothing like the promare. but it’s familiar. comforting. 

personal  space  is  but  two  words    ;    denki  knows  this  better  than  anybody ,   having  long  since  nursed  a  bad  habit  of  breaching  boundaries  for  overfamiliarity’s  sake .    it’s  a  bonding  exercise ,   he’ll  tell  you !    what’s  a  couple  of  knocked  knees  and  incidental  bloodied  noses  between  friends ,   really ?  

but  being  on  the  opposite  end  of  that    —    no ,   being  on  the  opposite  end  of  shinkai  yuuto ,   basking  in  the  glow  of  this  blinding  fluorescent  lighting  and  mugging  him  with  that  hard ,   jewel - eyed  stare   —    is  enough  to  set  every  single  one  of  his  nerves  on  fire ,   if  only  in  the  absolute  best  way  possible . 

so  he  bites  back .    literally .    he’s  literally  close  enough  to  accidentally  chomp  that  little  nose  clean  off ,   setting  the  box  aside  to  scoop  her  hands  into  his  own .    with  how  tightly  they’re  squeezed ,   you’d  think  she  was  a  lifeline .

           ❛❛   ———–  YES ,   YES ,   YES !    a  million  times  yes !    of  course  i’ll  be  your  valentine ,   yuuto !    i’ve  literally  never  wanted  anything  more  in  the  past  minute  and  a  half !   ❜❜      is  that  confirmation  enough ?    and  is  it  considered  rude  to  scream  in  the  face  of  a  potential  lover ?      ❛❛   please  let  me  take  you  out  tonight ,   too !    we’ll  go  wherever  you  wanna  go ,   and  i’ll  eat  all  your  chocolates  and  praise  you  for  your  amazing  baking  skills !   ❜❜  

forget every annoyed thought she had in the past ten minutes. this. the closeness, the enthusiasm, even the volume, is 100% worth the wait. if it wasn’t obvious enough from the more genuine smile she’s trying ( and failing ) to bite back. 

if kaminari didn’t have her hands in what can only be described as an endearing death grip, she would’ve used one to cover her mouth and steadily reddening cheeks. but! she will not let herself be flustered speechless! at least not yet. 

“ you’re such a gentleman, kaminari-kun! i’m craving hotpot, so let’s do that okaaay? “   she frees one of her hands, tapping a finger against her cheek, like she’s thinking hard on something.   “ we don’t have to wait for dinner for you to do all that you know. “ 

huh.   something in fukutomi’s heart really swells at the sight of those eyes widening like that  —  big,  elated,  unusually awake and… after a few seconds of warranted processing given the suddenness of this,  shocked.   it’s a little annoying to him,  honestly,  how endeared he is by the slightest margin of a change in expression that shinkai makes. 

all of his faces are good ones,  the bastard.

“  …you could, ”  fukutomi asserts,  and it’s important to note that he sounds gentler in that delivery than in his initial, much bolder statement;  it wouldn’t be much of a date if shinkai didn’t really want to be on one with him, if he’s understanding correctly what these are supposed to be like. and you know, not a hostage situation. 

how it was easier to blurt out something like that than it is now,  faced with the direct question behind all of this,  he’ll never know.  he’s never liked to beat around the bush,  so it was easy to come out with it;  but this part,  the one he’d skipped over right into asking him out,  is a lot more difficult.  he’s been pining for a lot longer than someone who doesn’t beat around the bush can really justify. 

swallowing tightly,  he nods in affirmation.  “ i — i do. ”  

expression only just wavering from stone solid,  he tries against the odds not to break a sweat visibly  —  tries to fight the heat rising in his cheeks,  too,  but to no avail.  by the end of him sounding like he’s giving wedding vows,  his lip is quivering with nerves and his temple is sweating bullets. “ i have for a long time. is… that alright? ”

it’s really unfair how little fukutomi has to say to get shinkai’s heart to do summersaults in his chest. he likes me. somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s laughing at himself, at how much he sounds like middle schooler getting told for the first time that his crush likes him back. but it looks like, out of the two of them, shinkai’s not holding up all that badly. 

his shock easily morphs into something more endeared, so much in fact, that he can’t help but bring a hand up to his chest and over his heart. clichés be damned. this is something people often miss or gloss over with the usually stoic captain. he’s still human. still a high schooler. still shinkai’s best friend that he can’t just leave out to dry much longer. 

“ that’s more than alright, “   with the same hand that was on his chest moments ago, he reaches out to take hold of one of fukutomi’s, giving it a light squeeze.   “ actually, i take that back. it’s only alright on one condition. “   his expression becomes neutral, lips pouting just a bit. 

cluelessly ,   denki  complies ,   eyes  trailing  to  where  her  finger  points .    the  kanji  written  there  is  considerably  neater  than  his  own    ;    a  personality  befitting  of  the  decor  surrounding  it .      ❛❛   ‘ above . ’    no ,  ‘ sound ’ .    wait   ——   ❜❜    

taking  back  the  box ,   denki  tilts  his  head  in  the  same  direction  the  note  is  facing ,   reading  it  properly  right - side  up .      ❛❛   …  ah !    ‘ kaminari . ’   ❜❜      there  we  go !    a  satisfied  nod .    he  begins  to  hand  it  back ,   happy  to  help  where  he  can .

and  then ,   after  an  astonishing  amount  of  time ,   it  clocks .

           ❛❛   —————–   WAIT ,   ME ?!   ❜❜

yanking  it  back  once  more   —   possessively  now   —   denki  scans  the  name  written  there  about  two  inches  from  his  face  with  eyes  blown  wide .    lo  and  behold ,   this  little  number  is ,   indeed ,   addressed  to  him .    and  given  the  context ,   he’s  got  a  pretty  solid  idea  of  what’s  inside    ;     and  it’s  the  very  sentiment  behind  that  gesture  that  sets  his  heart  pounding .      ❛❛   y …   you’re  asking  me  to  be  your  valentine ?   on  PURPOSE ?   ❜❜

when the box is handed back to her for a second time, yuuto begins to wonder if she should’ve printed his name across the whole box in bright yellow. she’ll keep that in mind for next year. but... maybe getting to see his over the top reaction up close makes this small wait worth it. 

it makes an incredibly endeared smile spread across yuuto’s face and she can’t help but giggle into her hand. and she’s glad for it all. it serves as good distraction from the way her cheeks may be flushing or her heart may be pounding; both from his response and for what she’s preparing to do next.