nat

Across the room, Rin watched his own spouse enthusiastically embrace another man.

Granted, the other man happened to be printed on polyester. Oh, that technicality did very little for his mood.

"Oh my gosh... Rin, look at him! They actually used the official artwork!" You turned the pillow around excitedly, admiring every little detail as though it belonged in a museum. "The jacket! The gloves! They even got the stupid haircut right! This is literally the sold-out version!"

You looked seconds away from crying tears of joy.

"I've wanted this forever..."

"...You really like it," he observed quietly.

"I love it!" You immediately wrapped both arms around the pillow again, happily squeezing it against your chest. "I don't think you understand how impossible these are to find anymore. Rin, this is genuinely the best surprise you've ever given me!"

"...I see."

His response came quietly.

You were far too busy admiring the body pillow to notice.

"It'll look so cute on the bed... Oh! Or maybe the couch? Actually..." You tilted your head thoughtfully. "No, definitely the bed."

Across the room, Rin sat perfectly still.

His gaze drifted from you......to Leon.

...then back to you again.

A long, contemplative silence settled over the living room.

Only when you looked up to show him the pillow again did you finally notice the look on his face.

"...Rin?"

"I've been home for less than ten minutes." His voice remained as calm and matter-of-fact as ever, which somehow made it even funnier. "You've hugged him three times, complimented his hair twice, and you've already decided he's sleeping in our bed."

You instinctively glanced down.

...You were, in fact, still hugging Leon.

"...Oh."

Rin rested his cheek against one hand, watching the scene unfold with the quiet resignation of a man who had accidentally sabotaged himself.

"I thought I was buying my wife a present."

Another small pause.

"It appears I've introduced a third party into our marriage."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Rin, you're acting like you're competing with a pillow."

"I am."

"It's literally stuffed cotton."

"And yet..." His eyes lingered on the way you instinctively hugged it a little closer while laughing. "...it's winning."

That somehow made you laugh even harder.

Rin watched you cling happily to the pillow he'd reluctantly purchased, wearing the resigned expression of someone who had engineered his own downfall with frightening efficiency.

"...I was trying to make you happy," he muttered.

"You did."

Still smiling, you carefully set Leon against the couch before wandering over to your husband instead.

Without a word, you slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest.

"You know..." you said thoughtfully, "...there might be a way to make this easier."

"...There isn't."

He looked down at you with obvious suspicion.

"...You know, if you're really that worried about competing with Leon..." You reached up to smooth a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "You could always cosplay him next Halloween. I'll even buy the jacket, the tactical gear... everything."

Rin blinked.

Rin stared at you. He actually thought about it. Then his eyes wandered to the body pillow on the couch. A quiet sigh escaped him.

"...I'd still lose."

You reached up, gently smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead before laughing softly. A faint smile finally found its way onto his face before he rested his forehead against yours.

"...I'm still throwing that wig away after Halloween."

"I wasn't talking about the wig."

He looked at you questioningly.

"I was talking about Leon." Your grin widened. "He'd think you'd look handsome too."

Rin let out the longest, most defeated sigh imaginable before wrapping his arms around you anyway.

"...Next time," he mumbled into your hair, "I'm buying you flowers. Flowers don't sleep in my bed."

˚₊‧꒰ა JULIEN LOKI

"You've asked me three times already."

The snowy trail crunched beneath your boots as Julien glanced over his shoulder, looking far too amused for someone who'd been dragging you uphill for the better part of an hour.

"And I'll ask a fourth," you replied, tugging your scarf a little higher. "Exactly how much longer are you planning to torture me?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"...Five minutes."

You stared at him.

"That's what you said fifteen minutes ago."

"It was."

"So you lied."

"No." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You simply climbed slower than I calculated."

You let out an exaggerated gasp.

"...Did you just blame me for your estimate?"

"I prefer to think of it as encouraging self-improvement."

"You are unbelievable."

"I've been told confidence is one of my better qualities, mon cœur."

You laughed despite yourself.

Hiking had always been one of Julien's favorite ways to spend the off-season. The mountain trails challenged him just enough to keep things interesting, and he claimed the climb made the view feel earned.

You were beginning to suspect he mostly enjoyed watching you grumble your way to the summit.

"...You're smiling."

"I am."

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

"You are terrible."

"I've been called worse."

He guided you over the ice with effortless ease. Julien made a mental note to stop sounding like he was assigning homework. Coaching Paris X Gen had evidently done irreversible damage.

"You've done well," he said. "Just a little farther."

"...You promise?"

"I do."

He wasn't exaggerating this time.

A few minutes later, the trees gave way to an open ridge blanketed in untouched snow. Before you had the chance to admire the view, Julien stepped in front of you.

"Close your eyes."

You laughed.

"...Should I be worried?"

"If you were, I'd already be carrying you back down the mountain."

"I suppose that's reassuring."

"It was meant to be."

You smiled before closing your eyes anyway. And the, his hands found yours immediately, warm despite the winter air.

"...Ready?"

You nodded.

"You can look now."

Your eyes slowly opened. For a brief, impossible moment...

You forgot how to breathe.

The night sky stretched endlessly above the mountains, painted with ribbons of emerald, violet, and pale blue that drifted across the darkness like waves of light. They shimmered so gently they almost didn't seem real, illuminating the untouched snow below with an otherworldly glow.

The aurora.

You stood completely still.

"...Julien."

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

"It's..."

You couldn't finish.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sky.

Julien already had. But, he was far more interested in watching you.

"I thought you'd like it…I checked the forecast before we left and apparently there was a high chance it'd appear tonight."

"You planned this whole hike..."

"So you'd see it."

A laugh escaped you, though your eyes had already begun to sting.

"...You walked me up a mountain just to surprise me?"

"I would've carried you if I'd needed to."

His answer was so matter-of-fact that you almost laughed again.

Instead, you turned to him.

"You know..."

"Hm?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anything this beautiful."

His gaze drifted upward for only a heartbeat before returning to you.

"I think you're mistaken," he said with a quiet smile. "The most beautiful thing I've seen tonight has been standing beside me this entire time."

Warmth rushed to your cheeks despite the freezing air.

"...You definitely planned that."

"I had the entire hike."

A laugh escaped you as you slipped a little closer.

"I'm really glad I came."

"So am I."

Julien brushed a gloved thumb across your cheek before taking your hand again.

The two of you stood quietly beneath the dancing lights, snow settling softly around your boots. After a while, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I wanted you to see the aurora at least once," he admitted. "But seeing you smile like this..."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment.

"...I think I ended up with the better view."

˚₊‧꒰ა MICHAEL KAISER

Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, warming the bedroom long before you had any intention of leaving the comfort of your blankets.

"...Good morning, Liebling."

Your eyes fluttered open to find Kaiser already sitting beside you, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. Resting across his lap was a breakfast tray complete with coffee, fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a vase no larger than your palm.

Inside it sat a single rose. Freshly picked, tiny droplets of dew still clinging to its crimson petals.

You blinked once before looking back at him.

"...Breakfast in bed?"

"I figured my wife deserved a pleasant morning."

He offered you the flower before anything else.

"The rose comes first."

You accepted it with a smile, carefully brushing your thumb over one of the petals.

"...It's beautiful."

"I know."

Your eyes narrowed playfully.

"...Were you complimenting yourself or the flower?"

"The distinction is entirely up to you."

You laughed softly, gently turning the rose between your fingers.

Living with him meant never knowing when he'd decide to be insufferably charming, and somehow, it always worked.

Only then did your gaze drift toward his hands.

Faint traces of soil still clung beneath his fingernails, stubborn despite however thoroughly he'd tried to wash them away. It was a sight you'd grown surprisingly fond of over the past few months.

"...You were out in the garden again."

Kaiser glanced down at his hands before giving an absent nod, almost as if he'd forgotten the evidence was still there.

"The roses needed pruning."

"And you picked this one on the way back?"

"It seemed like the obvious choice."

When his therapist first suggested gardening as a therapeutic activity, you'd quietly wondered how long it would last.

Kaiser had never been particularly fond of getting his hands dirty, and the first few weeks certainly hadn't inspired much confidence. He complained that roses were dramatically high-maintenance, accidentally overwatered more than one flowerbed, and once insisted that weeds were simply "plants with poor public relations."

You'd laughed through every setback.

Somewhere along the way, though, the complaints became observations, and the frustration turned into dedication. Now he was the one waking up before sunrise to check on new blooms before training, treating every rose with the same patience and care he'd once claimed he didn't have.

"...I'm proud of you, darling."

He looked up from the breakfast tray, a hint of curiosity replacing the quiet satisfaction he'd been wearing all morning.

"Proud?" he echoed.

You nodded, gently lifting the rose between the two of you.

"You could've dropped this whole gardening thing after a week and nobody would've blamed you. Instead, you stuck with it, even when it was frustrating." A small smile found its way onto your lips. "Look at you now. You grew an entire garden."

For a brief moment, he simply watched you.

Then his gaze drifted to the rose in your hand before returning to your face.

"Well, once I realized every flower that bloomed would eventually end up in your hands... it became something I looked forward to."

Your heart melted a little.

"...You're unfairly romantic before breakfast."

The corner of Kaiser's mouth lifted into a smile.

"I've found mornings are the best time to remind my wife that she's loved."

With breakfast long forgotten, the two of you decided to wander into the garden. Your fingers remained loosely intertwined as Kaiser led you along the familiar stone path, occasionally stopping to brush away a stray leaf or inspect a bloom that had opened overnight.

You'd always admired roses.

Kaiser, on the other hand, had grown unexpectedly fond of watching you admire them.

"...You know what this garden needs?"

Michael glanced over.

"Hm?"

"A blue rose."

A laugh escaped him.

"That's rather unfortunate, Liebling."

"I know." You sighed dramatically, still eyeing the empty space. "They're not real, but they'd be beautiful if they were."

He considered your words for a moment before stepping in front of you.

"...I suppose there's one you can still admire."

Before you could ask what he meant, his fingers gently found your wrist, guiding your hand upward until your fingertips rested against the blue rose tattoo curling elegantly across his neck.

His smile was subtle.

Almost unbearably pleased with himself.

"...You'll have to settle for this one."

You couldn't help laughing as your thumb gently traced the familiar ink.

"I don't mind."

"No?"

"I've already got the flowers." Your gaze lifted to meet his. "And I get to keep the gardener."

The smug smile he'd been wearing softened almost instantly. Without another word, he intertwined his fingers with yours and continued walking, looking every bit as satisfied as the roses blooming around him.

˚₊‧꒰ა REO MIKAGE

The VIP seats overlooked the circuit as the engines roared through the stands. You and Reo watched the cars line up on the grid, both already focused before the race had even started.

“You actually got these seats?”

Reo adjusted his sunglasses with a proud smile. “Of course.”

“You say that like this is a normal weekend plan.”

“For us, maybe.”

You laughed, looking back at the track.

The two of you had been waiting for this race for months. Reo knew every detail about the schedule, you had your favorite drivers picked out, and the debate over the podium had started before you even arrived.

“You still think he’s taking the podium?”

Reo glanced at you. “Yes.”

“You said that last race.”

“And I was close.”

“Close doesn’t count.”

He smiled. “You only say that because I was right about qualifying.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you still keep watching races with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

The lights went out, and both of you immediately turned toward the track. Reo leaned forward, analyzing every move with the same sharp focus he used on the field.

“Look at that gap,” Reo said, eyes fixed on the track.

You followed his gaze and smiled. “He’s setting up the overtake. You’ve been talking about this strategy all week.”

Reo glanced at you, impressed. “And you actually remembered.”

“Of course I did. I like hearing you get excited about things.”

A small smile appeared on his face before he turned back to the race.

“I like that you notice,” he admitted.

You looked at him, amused. “You’re enjoying this a lot.”

Reo watched the cars speed past. “Of course I am.” He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I get to watch my favorite sport with my favorite person. What’s not to enjoy?”

You shook your head, smiling.

“You really know how to make everything sound dramatic.”

Reo grinned. “I’m a dramatic person.”

“That’s true.”

The two of you laughed and returned your attention to the race. Later, during a quieter moment, you leaned against his shoulder.

“You know you didn’t have to plan everything so perfectly, right?”

Reo looked down at you, a small smile on his face. “I know.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I wanted today to be something we’d remember.”

Your expression softened as you looked around at the race, the atmosphere, and the effort he had put into making everything perfect.

“You’re lucky you’re charming.”

“I know.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“No. I’ve accepted my strengths.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

The final lap arrived, and both of you were back on the edge of your seats, cheering as the cars crossed the finish line.

When the race ended, Reo reached for your hand.

“So? Worth the wait?”

You squeezed his hand, still smiling.

“Best race I’ve seen.”

His expression immediately brightened.

“Good.”

You looked at him. “You were waiting for my review?”

“Obviously. You have excellent taste.”

The luxury seats, the roaring engines, and the unforgettable race were everything he had hoped for. But the moment Reo would remember most was sitting beside you, sharing something he loved with someone who made it even better.

˚₊‧꒰ა SHIDOU RYUSEI

"...Why are we at an airfield?"

Shidou glanced at you, then toward the plane waiting on the runway, as if the answer should've been obvious.

"Because we're jumping out of it, baby."

You looked at him, then at the plane, then back at him.

"...I'd like to go back to the hotel."

"Too late."

He slung an arm around your shoulders, already steering you toward the check-in counter.

"I booked this weeks ago."

"...Weeks?"

"'COURSE! You don't just wake up and accidentally skydive."

"...You apparently do."

He laughed so hard he nearly walked past the entrance.

Living with Shidou meant every vacation came with a mystery activity. Sometimes it was harmless. Sometimes it involved willingly leaving an airplane.

Anyhow, ten minutes later, you stood in a harness as the instructor checked the straps one last time.

"...I look ridiculous."

Shidou gave you a slow once-over before breaking into a grin.

"BABY, YOU LOOK COOL AS HELL!"

"I look vacuum-sealed."

"Exactly."

"..."

"...Cool as hell."

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

He only laughed, reaching over to straighten one of your loose shoulder straps before giving it an approving pat.

"There."

"...That did absolutely nothing."

"It made me feel useful."

"You've already dragged me here."

"I prefer the word inspired."

"...Threatened."

"NAH!"

His grin softened.

"I JUST KNOW YOU'D END UP LOVING IT!"

The plane climbed higher, but your confidence dropped. You kept your eyes on the cabin floor while the instructor explained what to expect.

Beside you, Shidou was practically vibrating with excitement.

"BABY, LOOK OUTSIDE!"

"...No."

"C'mon."

"No."

"JUST ONE PEEK."

"Absolutely not."

He bumped your shoulder with his.

"YOU'RE MISSIN' OUT."

"I'm preserving my sanity."

He laughed quietly before slipping his hand into yours.

"...You're really scared, huh?"

"A little?"

"You say that like you're not crushing my hand."

"...Sorry."

"Don't be."

His fingers squeezed yours back.

"I like knowing you trust me."

The words caught you off guard.

Before you could answer, the cabin door opened and a rush of wind swept through the plane. Every instinct in your body demanded a refund.

You grabbed the front of his jumpsuit.

"...If I die..."

He leaned closer.

"...you owe me one last kiss."

Shidou blinked.

Then laughed so hard one of the instructors snorted beside him.

"C'mere, baby."

He cupped your face with both hands before kissing you without the slightest bit of embarrassment.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours.

"If anything tries to steal you from me..." That familiar, fearless grin returned. "...it's gonna have to beat me first."

Before your heart could recover, you were falling.

Your scream disappeared into the wind as Brazil stretched endlessly beneath you, the coastline glittering under the afternoon sun. Beside you, Shidou was laughing. Not because you were scared, but because he couldn't believe he got to experience this with you.

Somewhere between the panic and the impossible feeling of flying, you started laughing too.

By the time the parachute opened, the fear had turned into exhilaration.

"...RYU!"

"WHAT?!"

"...This is actually incredible!"

His laugh echoed through the open sky.

"I KNEW YOU'D LOVE IT, BABY!"

"...You definitely could've mentioned this part first!"

"Would've ruined the surprise!"

When your feet finally found solid ground again, your knees immediately gave out.

You collapsed onto the grass with the dramatic sigh of someone who had just survived several near-death experiences. Shidou landed moments later, still wearing the biggest grin you'd ever seen.

"So?"

He crouched beside you.

"Worth it?"

You looked up at the endless blue sky, then at your husband. A smile slowly spread across your face.

"...Heck yeah."

"I KNEW IT!"

He threw both fists into the air in celebration before immediately offering you a hand back to your feet.

"...I'm never doing that again."

"YEAH YOU ARE!"

"...No."

"YEAH, 'CAUSE NEXT TIME WE'RE HOLDING HANDS THE WHOLE WAY DOWN!"

You stared at him.

"...That's somehow an even worse idea."

Shidou only laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the two of you started walking back together.

"MAYBE!" He planted an unapologetic kiss on your temple. "BUT IT'D BE A HELL OF A FIRST ANNIVERSARY PHOTO!"

˚₊‧꒰ა BAROU SHOEI

The kitchen was already spotless when you sat down, the table perfectly arranged and a full gourmet meal waiting in front of you. Your eyes immediately went to the apron tied around his waist.

World’s Best Househusband (And King)

You smiled.

“You actually wore it, sweetheart.”

His expression immediately soured. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s an apron. It’s not like I’m wearing something ridiculous.”

“You’re wearing an apron that says you’re the best househusband.”

“It was your gift.”

“And you kept it.”

“Because throwing away useful things is stupid.”

You laughed softly. “You hate that it says househusband.”

“I hate that you think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re a terrifying striker who cleans the kitchen better than anyone and cooks me a meal like this while wearing a silly apron. It’s adorable!”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe I am.”

He sat across from you, pretending he wasn’t affected.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you made my favorite dishes.”

“That’s because I know how to cook properly.”

You took a bite, the flavors coming together perfectly. The seasoning was balanced, the presentation was flawless, and even the smallest things were prepared exactly how you liked them.

You immediately smiled.

“Sweetheart, this is amazing.”

“I know.”

“You could at least pretend to be humble.”

“I’m being accurate.”

You shook your head, laughing.

You rested against his arm, still smiling from the meal.

“People always say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Barou raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That saying is outdated.”

“Maybe,” you said, holding onto him tighter, “but it works both ways.”

Before he could argue, you looked around the spotless kitchen, the carefully prepared dishes, and the man beside you who had spent hours making everything perfect.

“You’re the best chef, housekeeper, football player, and husband ever.”

“I am not a househusband.”

You glanced at the apron he was still wearing.

“You cook, clean, organize everything, and somehow still find time to train every day.”

Barou clicked his tongue. “That’s called having standards.”

You smiled. “You’re proving my point, darling.”

He looked away, clearly refusing to acknowledge that you had a point.

“You exaggerate too much.”

“I appreciate you.”

“You make it annoying.”

“I think you like being appreciated.”

“I tolerate it.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

Your smile only grew. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Barou opened his mouth to respond, then stopped himself. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Eat your food before it gets cold.”

You blinked, amused. “…Wow. Is that your way of shutting me up?”

He gave a quiet grunt, looking away. “No. It’s my way of making sure my favorite customer enjoys the meal without getting distracted.”

You laughed softly. “Favorite customer?”

“You’re the only one allowed to criticize my cooking.”

You smiled, resting against him as you took another bite.

The food was perfect, the kitchen was spotless, and the man beside you was still pretending the apron and the affection meant nothing. But when he quietly reached over to fix your plate and pressed another small kiss to your temple, you knew better.

The King could deny the apron all he wanted.

He could never deny how much he loved taking care of you.

˚₊‧꒰ა GODWIN KUSO

The night had been unusually clear.

Countless stars stretched across the sky without a single cloud interrupting them, their light reflecting faintly against the quiet lake ahead. It wasn't uncommon for evenings like this to end outside. If Kuso ever had a free night, there was a good chance you'd find him somewhere beneath an open sky, quietly pointing out constellations you'd immediately forget the names of.

"...That one's Altair," he said, his gaze never leaving the sky as he traced an invisible line between several stars. "One of the brightest stars visible from Earth. People often mistake that one for Vega, but they're easier to distinguish once you know what you're looking for."

You squinted thoughtfully.

"...I think I see it."

"You've said that before."

"I know." A sheepish smile found its way onto your face. "I'm trying."

"I know."

His voice carried the faintest trace of amusement.

"And I appreciate the effort."

Satisfied with yourself, you nodded anyway.

"I'm going to get it eventually."

"I don't doubt that."

The conversation drifted onward as naturally as it always did. Godwin had a habit of speaking about the things he loved with such quiet sincerity that it was impossible not to listen. Watching him speak so earnestly about the things he loved had always been one of your favorite sights.

It was also, admittedly, one of the reasons you'd fallen in love with him.

After a while, he reached into his jacket and quietly placed a small velvet box in your hands.

It wasn't shaped like a ring box; it was far too flat. Because of this, curiosity got the better of you almost immediately.

Inside rested a certificate and a carefully folded star chart. You looked at him in obvious confusion.

"...What is this?"

"It's a star registry," he explained. "There are organizations that let you symbolically register a star in someone's name. It isn't used by astronomers, but the registration itself is permanent."

You blinked.

"...Wait..."

Your eyes dropped back to the certificate.

"...Is this saying..."

A smile crossed his face.

"I registered one in your name." A small smile settled across his face. "You always ask me which star is my favorite whenever we come out here. I realized I'd been giving you a different answer every time."

He glanced toward the sky again.

"I wanted to fix that."

Your vision blurred before you could stop it.

"So from now on," he continued, "if you ever ask me that question again... my answer will always be the same."

He unfolded the accompanying chart, tracing one set of coordinates with a gloved finger.

"I made sure it's visible from here," he said, handing you the map. "That way, these evenings don't have to change. We'll still come out here, you'll still ask me questions..." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Only this time, I'll know exactly which star to point at."

You looked from the chart...

...to the endless sky above...

...then quietly slipped your hand into his.

"I don't think anyone will ever be able to top this."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I wasn't trying to." His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles. "I only wanted to leave you with something that would still be here years from now. Long after tonight becomes a memory, you'll be able to look up and know there's a little corner of the sky that will always remind me of you."

You couldn't find the words. Not when your heart felt this full.

Godwin seemed to understand.

He simply lifted your joined hands and pressed the gentlest kiss against your knuckles, lingering there for just a moment before lowering them again. His smile was quiet and content, as though seeing yours had already made every bit of planning worthwhile.

You'd spent years believing Godwin loved the night sky more than anything.

It turned out...

He'd simply been waiting for the perfect way to share it with you.

couldn’t find enough kuso fics, so i decided to take the first step and write one myself. please join me in spreading the propaganda and make more kuso content because this man deserves it! also this was somehow inspired after watching rio 2 (if you get the reference, i love you). ☆

His phone buzzed.

Kaiser WHERE ARE YOU

Ness still looking...

Kaiser YOU'VE BEEN "LOOKING" FOR HALF AN HOUR

Ness I'm aware

Yukimiya Rehearsal starts in 15.

Kaiser I know. I'm waiting on our drummer who's somehow losing a game of hide and seek to the MOST popular girl in school.

Ness There's just a lot of people today.

Isagi btw guys if you don’t mind it i added hiori and kurona

Kaiser what?

Isagi hiori's doing scheduling kurona's bringing the equipment

Kaiser Yoichi. I asked you to reserve a rehearsal room. How did you come back with two extra people???

Isagi problem solved 👍

Kaiser No. The problem was "no vocalist." You solved a completely different problem.

Hiori Someone had to. None of you can organize anything.

Kurona i have a white van big van

Kaiser Wonderful. Now I have logistics but still no SINGER.

Isagi you're acting like they joined a family of 12

Yukimiya Can we please focus? We're running out of time.

Kaiser yes can we LOCK IN for once i'm not embarrassing myself in front of the whole school. I'm not getting laughed off that stage because the rest of you decided to wing it.

Isagi nobody said we were winging it

Kaiser We don't have a singer. That is the definition of winging it.

Ness Don’t worry now. I'll find her. Just... give me a little more time.

Kaiser Fine. Don't you dare come back without a vocalist.

With the group chat finally silenced, Ness let out a slow breath and slipped his phone into his pocket. One conversation. That was all he needed to survive. He'd ask, you'd reject him, and he'd go back to rehearsal so Kaiser could tell him he saw it coming.

He rounded the corner of the main building.

So did you.

Your shoulder bumped into his, and the paper cup in your hand lurched just enough for the lid to pop free. Hot coffee splashed across the front of his hoodie before either of you had time to react.

"...Ow."

Ness hissed quietly, staring at the stain spreading across the faded gray fabric. He pinched the soaked hoodie away from his skin with a pained grimace.

You glanced from the spilled coffee to his hoodie.

"...That's unfortunate."

Ness looked up.

"I..."

"Maybe look up once in a while. You'd be surprised how useful it is."

"Oh I mean... you weren't exactly watching either."

"No shit," you said with a careless shrug. "People usually move out of my way."

"...That's slightly unfair."

"I don't think it is."

You took another sip from what was left of your coffee as if the conversation had already ended.

Ness sighed through his nose and looked back down at the ruined hoodie. There was no saving it now. Coffee had soaked through the fabric, and the smell alone was going to haunt him for the rest of rehearsal.

Then something clicked.

"...Actually," he said, his smile returning, "there might be another way you can make it up to me...Our current band needs a vocalist."

"I think you hit your head harder than I thought. I'm not joining your band."

"We're competing in Battle of the Bands."

"I'm aware."

"So..."

"So you think spilling coffee on your hoodie somehow means I owe you a performance?"

Ness paused.

"...When you say it like that, it sounds less reasonable."

"Because it is less reasonable."

"I'm still saying no." You adjusted your grip on your coffee before stepping around him. "Gosh, i don't even sing."

Ness frowned.

"You do though..."

You paused just enough to glance at him over your shoulder.

"No, I don't."

"You do."

The certainty in his voice made you turn back around.

"You were cleaning your classroom a few weeks ago after school," he said. "There was a radio playing."

Your expression faltered for the first time.

"...You were there?"

"I was walking past."

The memory returned to him with surprising clarity. Rehearsal had ended late that afternoon, leaving the academic building unusually quiet. Most of the classrooms had already emptied, but one door had been left open while you stayed behind to finish cleaning. A broom rested against a desk as you absentmindedly wiped the whiteboard, humming under your breath before the humming turned into singing.

You weren't putting on a performance. If anything, you sounded completely unaware that anyone could hear you.

Ness thought your voice was pretty.

There was something easy about it, something genuine that made the empty hallway feel strangely less empty. What puzzled him most was that, despite being one of the school's cheerleaders, he'd never once seen your name on a choir roster or a band lineup. Someone with a voice like yours should've ended up in one of them eventually.

"Anyway, it wasn't on purpose," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I just... happened to hear you."

You studied him for another beat before letting out a quiet scoff.

"You realize that sounds incredibly creepy, right?"

"N-no. Please don’t think of that!" His words stumbled over themselves almost immediately. "The door was open, and... it carried into the hallway."

The explanation only made him sound guiltier.

You shook your head, amused despite yourself.

"Even if that's true, hearing someone sing once doesn't mean they're joining your shitty little garage band."

Ness stood there for a second, thinking. He wasn't particularly good at bargaining. In fact, he rarely had to. Usually people either agreed with him or, more often, Kaiser decided the conversation for him.

Then, rather clumsily, he landed on what he thought was a reasonable compromise.

"I'll buy your drinks every day for two weeks."

You stared at him.

"...That's cute. You actually think that'll work?"

"...I figured it probably would." He laughed quietly to himself. "Besides, i just don't really have anything else to offer."

Your gaze flickered to the coffee staining his hoodie before returning to his face. Somehow, despite being the one who'd ended up worse off, he was still trying to negotiate like he was the desperate one.

Which, admittedly, he was.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

"You're either really committed to this band or really bad at taking no for an answer."

"...Both," he admitted.

You stared at him.

"Wow. Most people would at least pretend to have dignity."

"I have dignity."

"You begged someone who spilled coffee on you to join your band."

Then you looked at him again for a long moment, searching his face for the punchline. There wasn't one. Shit. He really is completely serious.

Your eyes drifted to the coffee stain soaking the front of his hoodie before returning to the hopeful expression he'd been trying very hard to hide behind that polite smile of his.

"You know," you mused, "you're kind of pathetic."

Ness winced.

"...I've heard that before."

"I believe it."

A quiet sigh escaped you as you adjusted your bag higher onto your shoulder.

"Fine." You pointed at him before he could get too excited. "But let's manage your expectations. I'm doing you a favor. If rehearsals suck, I'm leaving."

"I'll make sure they aren't."

A laugh escaped you.

"You're hopeless."

"Does that mean you'll come?"

You rolled your eyes, already walking past him.

"I said yes, didn't I?"

Before you could answer, he caught your wrist and immediately started pulling you through the hallway.

"Wha—"

"We're late."

"Excuse me??"

"Rehearsal started three minutes ago," he sang lightly, weaving through the crowd while making sure you didn't get separated from him. "Kaiser is going to lose his mind if I show up any later."

He glanced back at you with a small grin, giving you a quick wink.

And with that, he turned on his heel and hurried toward the music building, his coffee stained hoodie suddenly feeling a lot less important.

The thing was, Ness had other options. He could have asked someone else to sing. Someone who probably would have agreed immediately and saved him the trouble of searching half the school.

But he didn't want someone else. Because, as ridiculous as it sounded, this had never really been just about finding a vocalist.

He had seen you around campus before. Everyone had. You were impossible to miss, always surrounded by people and carrying yourself like you belonged at the center of every room.

So when Battle of the Bands gave him an excuse to finally talk to you, Ness took it.

Maybe it was a terrible decision. Maybe Kaiser was going to lose his mind when he found out how much time he spent chasing one vocalist.

But Ness was already embarrassingly far gone.

He was stupidly, pathetically infatuated with you. And now he finally had a reason to be around you. To hear you talk, to see you actually pay attention to him, even if it was only because of the band. Now, he would take whatever time he could get. The rehearsals, the arguments, the insults, all of it.

Because, selfishly, Ness liked having a reason to keep you close.

And he wasn't ready to give that up yet.

By the time rehearsal started that afternoon, Team Gold finally had a vocalist. And with one week left until Battle of the Bands, they had just enough time to figure out whether these teenagers with wildly different personalities could somehow become a band. Or, more likely, kill each other trying.

Three days later, rehearsals had become less of a disaster and more of a controlled one.

The practice room still echoed with missed cues and arguments over tempos, but everyone had gradually settled into a rhythm. You learned where to stand, Kurona figured out how to fit everyone's equipment into his van without violating the laws of physics, and Hiori somehow managed to keep six teenagers on schedule using nothing but a shared calendar and thinly veiled disappointment.

Isagi, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"He said he can't make it," Yukimiya announced, glancing up from his phone.

Kaiser frowned. "Why?"

"He had a minor surgery."

"...What kind of surgery?"

Yukimiya paused.

"...He got a skin tag removed."

Kaiser stared.

"A skin tag."

Yukimiya nodded.

"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOICHI SKIPPED REHEARSAL OVER A SKIN TAG?"

"The doctor scheduled it today."

Kaiser threw his hands into the air.

"Does nobody in this band have a sense of urgency?? I'M NOT ABOUT TO BECOME THE SCHOOL'S BIGGEST JOKE BECAUSE YOICHI WANTED A SKIN TAG REMOVED."

You leaned toward Yukimiya, lowering your voice.

"...Is he always like this?"

Yukimiya didn't even hesitate.

"This is one of the better reactions."

"...Seriously?"

"Yeah. One time, he spent fifteen minutes lecturing us because one note was off tune."

"Um..." Ness glanced between everyone in the room before offering a small smile. "How about we take five?"

Nobody argued.

The room scattered almost immediately. Kurona wandered toward the vending machine while Hiori disappeared into the hallway with his headphones on. Ness stayed behind at the drum kit, absentmindedly twirling a stick between his fingers before tapping out a familiar rhythm against the snare.

Your head turned.

"...Wait... are you playing The Number of the Beast?"

The beat stopped.

Ness looked up, surprised.

"You know Iron Maiden?"

"I used to blast my heavy metal records through the house whenever I wanted to get on the old geezer's nerves."

A small laugh escaped him.

"For a cheerleader, you're surprisingly cultured."

You tilted your head. "Was that supposed to be a compliment, or did you just insult me in the nicest way possible?"

"Honestly? A little bit of both."

"Wow. You really said that out loud."

Ness smiled, realizing his mistake but not looking particularly sorry. "I just didn't expect someone like you to know Iron Maiden."

"Someone like me?"

"The kind of person everyone already knows."

That answer caught you off guard for a second. Not because it was flattering. You had heard better compliments from people trying much harder. It was because he said it like an observation, not an attempt to impress you.

"You're weird."

"I've been told."

"I can tell."

He laughed, and you hated that it was actually kind of funny.

"...Don't get excited. This doesn't mean you know me now."

Ness's smile only grew. "I wasn't going to."

"...Good."

He resumed the rhythm anyway, and this time, you found yourself tapping your foot along before you realized what you were doing.

It was irritating, really.

Normally, Ness was just an edgy loser in your eyes. The type of guy who probably listened to dramatic rock songs.

But behind the drums, he was different.

The confidence in every movement, the focus in his expression, the way he played like he owned the entire room. Unfortunately, it was working.

You stared for a second too long.

"Oh."

That was a problem. Because why was the weird edgy drummer actually kind of hot?

He is not even my type. At all. You think to yourself. To stop yourself from getting any more ideas, you decided to get away from this room.

"I'm done here."

Ness looked up, confused. "Already?"

"Yes, already." You slung your bag over your shoulder. "Besides, I have plans. I'm going to the mall."

"Right now?"

"Yes. And please, some of us have things to do that don't involve sitting in a room with boys arguing over instruments."

You started walking away before he could respond.

"See you at the next rehearsal. And please, for everyone's sake, don't make me regret saying yes."

You did not wait for a response, simply walking away and leaving Ness blinking in confusion behind the drum kit. He stared after you, drumsticks still in his hands, completely unsure of what had just happened. One second, you were watching him play. The next, you were gone.

And, strangely enough, he found himself wishing you had stayed longer. He had only just gotten used to having you there, seeing you actually enjoy the music instead of pretending you didn't care.

He knew this was only for Sports Week. After the performance, you would go back to your own world, and he would go back to his.

But still, he wished you had stayed a little longer.

By the fourth rehearsal, the music was improving. However, the same could not be said for the band’s ability to exist in the same room without causing a problem.

"...This part needs to change."

Kaiser dropped the revised sheet music onto the table, immediately earning a tired look from Hiori.

"You changed the entire second half."

"Yes."

"We practiced this version yesterday."

"And yesterday we were wrong."

You looked up from your phone, unimpressed. "Do you always make everyone's life harder, or is today a special occasion?"

The room went quiet. Kaiser slowly turned toward you. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Ness immediately stopped tapping his drumsticks against his leg. He had a feeling this was about to become a problem. Kaiser picked up the sheet music again, his expression already becoming dramatic.

"Some of us actually care about winning."

"Some of us actually care about not making everyone miserable."

"I am trying to make this performance better."

"No. You're trying to make sure everyone knows it was your idea."

Kaiser stared at you.

"You've been here for four days."

"And you've been unbearable for longer. What's your point?"

The rest of the band suddenly became very interested in their instruments. Kaiser stepped closer

"You really think you can walk in here and start criticizing everyone?"

You smiled slightly. "That's funny coming from you."

"And why is that?"

"Because you walked into this room and immediately acted like you were the only person here with a functioning brain."

Kaiser scoffed. "I have standards."

"No, you have an ego."

A pause.

Then Kaiser placed a hand over his chest like you had personally wounded him.

"Wow."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Whatever dramatic performance you're doing right now. We're rehearsing, not auditioning for your personal tragedy."

A few people looked away to hide their reactions.

Kaiser narrowed his eyes. "You think being popular means everyone has to listen to you?"

Your expression never changed, but somewhere in the back of your mind, the first draft of Michael Kaiser's social demise was already taking shape.

"No."

You leaned back in your chair.

"I think being right means people should listen to me."

Kaiser opened his mouth, clearly ready with a comeback, only to pause when nothing came out. For once, he had been caught off guard.

"What now?" you said, watching him struggle. "Did your ego crash? Should we restart it?"

Before he recovered, Ness spoke up.

"Kaiser."

Everyone looked over.

"She's right."

The room fell silent. Even Kaiser, who usually had something to say about everything, looked personally betrayed.

"Ness?"

Ness shifted slightly under the attention but didn't take it back. "You're changing things because you're worried about the performance going badly."

"And?"

"And that's different from improving it."

Kaiser's expression turned betrayed. "You're defending her?"

You immediately looked at Ness. "Don't."

He blinked. "Don't what?"

"Jump in like I need someone to fight my battles."

"I wasn't saying that."

"You were."

Ness hesitated. "I was just trying to help."

"I don't need help."

His expression softened slightly. "I know."

You hated how sincere he sounded. Somehow, that only made it worse.

Kaiser crossed his arms. "Unbelievable."

You turned toward him. "What?"

"You two are already exhausting."

"Coming from you?"

"YES, COMING FROM ME."

Hiori sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Can we please finish rehearsing before the two biggest egos in this room start another argument?"

You and Kaiser immediately looked at each other.

"He started it!"

"She started it."

Kurona glanced between the two of you, completely unfazed by the argument. After a moment of silence, he simply stuck his tongue out.

"Both started it."

Nobody had a response.

Hiori was the first to break the silence, glancing down at the supply list on his phone. "We're missing extra cables, batteries, and a few replacement picks."

Everyone looked at Kaiser. Kaiser looked back.

"Don't look at me like that."

"You are the one who changed the setup three times," Hiori said.

"And somehow, the setup is better now."

"That doesn't explain why we're missing half the equipment."

Kaiser clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed that the problem had somehow become his responsibility. His eyes scanned the room before landing on the two people who had spent the last ten minutes arguing with him.

You immediately noticed.

"No."

Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "I didn't even say anything."

"You didn't have to. Your face already did."

"You're getting the supplies."

"Absolutely not."

"You joined this band voluntarily."

Ness quietly picked up the list before the argument could spiral again. "I'll go."

Kaiser immediately nodded. "Good. Take her with you."

You opened your mouth, already preparing to explain exactly why that was a terrible idea and why Kaiser clearly had a personal vendetta against your free time. However, you didn't get the chance. Ness was already picking up the supply list, turning toward you with that annoyingly polite smile of his.

"Come on...the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."

You stared at him for a moment, mostly because you couldn't decide whether to be annoyed at Kaiser for volunteering you or Ness for making it impossible to argue.

And somehow, that was how you ended up leaving rehearsal with Ness, a supply list, and the lingering annoyance from an argument neither of you had actually moved past.

The trip was supposed to be quick.

Grab the equipment. Come back. Pretend this band wasn't one bad comment away from collapsing.

However, due to a much terrible luck, the weather suddenly turned against you.

The rain hammered against the convenience store's windows like gravel, but the real storm was inside the narrow aisle between the refrigerated drinks and the stale snack shelves. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering with an erratic rhythm that mirrored the pounding in Ness's chest.

The silence between the two of you had been tense ever since rehearsal. Ness stepping in during your argument with Kaiser was supposed to be supportive, but to you, it felt like he had crossed a line. He hadn't just disagreed with Kaiser; he had decided you needed protecting, and that was something you refused to tolerate.

To anyone else, Ness had been a hero. To you, he had been an insult. He had acted as if you couldn't handle the heat, as if he had the right to decide when you needed a shield.

You weren't a damsel in need of rescue; you were a hurricane waiting to break. And Ness, with his infuriatingly earnest eyes and his desperate need to please, had just walked right into the eye of it.

"H-hey," Ness stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to organize a display of protein bars. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely grip the packaging. "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have I know you can handle him, I just..."

You didn't let him finish. You moved before he could retreat into another pathetic apology. You crossed the linoleum floor in two strides, your boots clicking sharply like a countdown.

When you reached him, you didn't hesitate. You grabbed the front of his damp shirt and slammed him back against the metal shelf.

The clang of the shelves reverberated through the empty store, but you didn't care. You shoved your body against his, pinning him there, letting him feel every inch of your fury.

Ness froze. His breath hitched audibly, his magenta eyes widening until they looked almost violet in the dim light. "Um... what are you—"

"You think you can protect me?" you hissed, your face inches from his. "You think you get to decide when I need help?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely black. "I-I didn't mean..."

"Then what exactly did you mean?"

For once, Ness had no quick apology ready.

"I just didn't like seeing him talk to you like that."

You hated how genuine that sounded. Because it wasn't him looking down on you. It was just Ness being annoyingly sincere.

You studied him for a second, noticing he wasn't arguing back or trying to justify himself. He was just waiting.

"Ness."

"Yeah?"

A small pause.

"You're not going to freak out if I do something?"

His eyes widened slightly at the question. Then, he finally seemed to put the pieces together, and for once, Ness had no immediate apology or nervous rambling.

"No."

Good.

That was all the answer you needed. You didn't give him another chance to overthink it. You closed the distance between you.

You bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a sharp, startled whimper from his throat, and the moment you did, Ness broke. All the pent up tension, all the energy he had been hoarding since the moment he met you, exploded.

He didn't try to take control. He couldn't. Instead, he surrendered to you with a terrifying intensity. His hands flew to your waist, not to push you away, but to drag you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as if he were drowning and you were his only oxygen. His mouth opened to yours in a desperate, starving moan, his tongue seeking yours with a frantic, uncoordinated hunger that screamed how long he had been waiting for you to acknowledge him.

Then came his hands.

The moment your hips pressed against his, Ness's fingers slid down. His touch was reverent but desperate, fumbling at the hem of your clothes until his palms found the bare skin of your thighs. When he made contact, he let out a sound that was half sob, half growl. His grip became bruising, his fingers kneading into your thighs with a possessive ferocity that matched your own anger. He hiked your legs up higher, wrapping them around his waist to anchor you to him, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps against your mouth.

"Please," he whimpered between kisses, his forehead crashing against yours as he fought for air. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and utterly wrecked. "I'm sorry... please, just don't stop. Don't punish me like this, unless unless you want to."

The power dynamic was absolute. You were the one directing the heat, the one setting the pace, the one deciding how deep his fingers sank into your flesh. And Ness? He was exactly what you wanted him to be: a pathetic, beautiful mess at your mercy, worshiping the very hand that was putting him in his place.

But as the rain outside shifted from a roar to a steady drone, the reality of their situation bled back in. The adrenaline began to cool, leaving behind nothing but the sharp sting of sweat and the ache of unspoken words.

Ness was the first to break away, though not because he wanted to. His hands lingered on your thighs for one agonizing second too long his fingertips still twitching against your skin before he forced them to retreat.

He stumbled back a half step, his chest heaving as he tried to reclaim some semblance of composure.

His hair was a messy disaster, sticking to his forehead in damp strands, and his lips were swollen and flushed a deep crimson. He looked utterly wrecked, his magenta eyes still glassy with residual worship, but he was already moving to fix his shirt with unsteady, shaking hands.

"We-we should go," he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and cracked. He wouldn't meet your eyes, but the way his Adam's apple bobbed spoke volumes about how hard he was fighting to keep his knees from buckling. "Kaiser will... he'll notice if we're late."

You stared at him for a second.

"You're seriously thinking about Kaiser right now?"

Ness blinked.

"We have rehearsal."

The threat of Kaiser's disapproval acted like a cold splash of water. You straightened your clothes, your fingers cool and steady compared to his.  After that, you grabbed your things and walked past him.

"Come on. Before your precious Kaiser has another meltdown."

Ness grabbed the remaining supplies, his knuckles white around the plastic handles. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched as he led the way toward the door.

Neither of you brought it up again. The Rehearsal continued and before either of you could make sense of it, Sports Week was already drawing to its finale.

By the time Team Gold was called to the stage, it was almost hard to believe they had made it this far.

A week ago, Ness had been running through crowded hallways with a coffee stained hoodie, desperately searching for a vocalist. Now, he was walking onto a stage with you beside him. Somehow, the group that had spent most of their rehearsals arguing had become a real band.

Kaiser was still Kaiser, finding something to complain about even moments before going on stage. Hiori was still the only thing keeping the entire band from falling apart. Isagi was still playing referee. Yukimiya had mastered the art of pretending he wasn't involved. Kurona was still… Kurona.

And Ness was still the same annoying drummer who somehow ended up in your life.

Still too polite and still too eager to help. Still looking way too pleased whenever you gave him even the slightest bit of attention. You called him pathetic for it. He still acted like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

Then the announcement echoed across the field.

"Representing Team Gold..."

The crowd erupted as the four of you stepped onto the stage.

Ness settled behind the drums, spinning his sticks once before looking up. For a moment, his eyes met yours.

Then the music started.

[Team Gold performs "Black Sheep" by Metric.]

The first guitar strum cut through the field, drawing the crowd's attention.

Then your voice entered, carrying the opening before the bass joined in and the rest of the band followed. The stage slowly built around the song.

Black sheep, come home Black sheep, come home Black sheep, come home Black sheep, come home

Ness waited behind the drums, letting the rhythm settle before joining in. When he did, every hit landed perfectly with the beat, driving the performance forward.

Send you my love on a wire Lift you up, every time Everyone, ooh-ooh Pulls away, ooh-ooh

The guitar, bass, drums, and vocals blended together effortlessly, filling the field with the kind of energy nobody expected from a band that had spent the past week fighting over every detail.

It's a mechanical bull, the number one You'll take a ride from anyone Everyone wants a ride Pulls away, ooh-ooh From you, ooh

The crowd grew louder with every section of the song. Under the stage lights, everything finally came together.

The music, the timing, the four of you—it all came together. When the final note rang out and the field erupted into cheers, you realized Team Gold had actually done it.

And somehow, you caught yourself smiling.

Unfortunately, Ness noticed.

Of course he did.

As the four of you stepped off the stage, the adrenaline slowly began to fade. The crowd was still loud behind you, but the performance was over.

"Well," Kaiser said, looking far too pleased with himself. "At least none of you ruined my reputation."

"Your reputation survived a school band performance?" you asked. "Congratulations. Should we throw a parade?"

Kaiser scoffed, but before he could respond, the group started splitting up to join their respective teams.

Hiori grabbed the equipment list. Kurona disappeared with the instruments. Kaiser was already busy talking about the judges' reactions.

And then it was just you and Ness for a moment.

"So..." Ness started, awkwardly adjusting the drumsticks in his hand. "I guess that's it."

You looked at him. "Don't sound so dramatic. It's not like we're never seeing each other again."

"Right." He smiled. "Of course."

You paused before walking away.

"You weren't completely terrible, by the way."

Ness blinked.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Don't ruin it."

His smile only grew. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As you turned to walk away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back that same intense, unwavering stare that had followed you through every rehearsal and every stolen moment. You didn't get five steps before you heard the quick scuff of his sneakers against the linoleum.

"Wait-"

You stopped and turned, half expecting another stammered apology. Instead, Ness was standing there, breathing shallowly, his knuckles white around the drumsticks. The performative persona he wore for the others had completely stripped away, leaving behind something far more unguarded.

He didn't ask for permission. Driven by something you couldn't quite name, he stepped forward and closed the distance between you.

Before you could speak, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was desperate and achingly sweet. The kiss felt full of gratitude and hunger, a messy, breathless collision that made the fading noise of the background vanish entirely. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the heat of his mouth against yours and the way his free hand trembled as it hovered near your waist, uncertain but unwilling to let go.

When he finally pulled away, he didn't retreat. He lingered there, forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged as he tried to find his footing again.

"See you around at school," you murmured, your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest. "And don't get used to this, you’re still annoying."

Ness let out a shaky breath, a dazed, beautiful smile spreading across his flushed face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there."

You shook your head at how easily pleased he was and turned away. But this time, you didn't mind him following a few steps behind.

based on this request. dedicated to @slipkn000t ☆

"Again, Rin."

He remembered how effortless it had all been back then. Sae would knock the ball toward him, correcting his footing with the patience only Rin had ever seen from him.

"Don't watch me. Watch the ball."

"Like this?"

"Closer."

Rin would nod seriously, trying again until Sae finally gave one small, satisfied nod.

"That's better."

Back then, there hadn't been any pressure. No impossible expectations, no dreams heavy enough to carry. There had only been football. Rin never questioned why he chased after the ball every day...only that Sae was always there waiting for him. They won, they laughed, and somewhere along the way they made a promise to become the two best strikers in the world. To them, it hadn't felt like a dream at all. It had simply felt like the future.

"...Papa?"

The memory slipped away as one of the twins tugged gently on his sleeve.

"I'm thirsty..."

Rin glanced toward the cooler he'd brought and walked over, lifting the lid. He reached inside and pulled out three popsicles, one blue, one red, and one grape. The twins reached for the blue and red without a second thought, leaving the grape in Rin's hand.

"I want blue!"

"I want red!"

"...Here."

They sat together beneath the shade of a tree, little legs swinging as they happily unwrapped their treats. Within seconds, sticky juice had already found its way onto their hands.

"My hand's all sticky..."

"Mine too."

The first twin held out his popsicle.

"Wanna bite?"

His brother took one small bite before handing it right back.

"Thank you."

"'Kay."

They didn't think twice about it. They never kept score or wondered who had gotten the bigger bite. Watching them share so naturally stirred something deep inside Rin.

It reminded him of another summer.

Another blue popsicle.

He and Sae had always picked the same flavor. After football, they'd walk home with blue stained tongues and sticky fingers, and before long, Sae would inevitably steal a bite from Rin's because he'd already finished his own. Rin had grumbled every single time.

Looking back now, he couldn't remember why he'd ever minded.

"Hey."

"One bite."

"You already ate yours."

"I know."

Rin had sighed dramatically before holding it out anyway.

"You're buying me one tomorrow."

Back then, he'd thought those afternoons would last forever.

He had never imagined there would come a day when the person waiting for him on the other side of the pitch no longer would be. After Sae left, football stayed the same, but everything around it changed. The promise they had made together became something Rin carried alone, and with every match, the distance between them only seemed to grow.

Now, watching his sons race after the ball with nothing but laughter between them, he was reminded of what those afternoons had felt like before everything fell apart. Before football became something to chase by himself. Before every step forward meant leaving another piece of the past behind.

Once, football had simply been the place where he could be with the person who mattered most. Somehow, without him realizing it, it had slowly become that again.

"Papa?"

Rin looked down.

One of the twins was holding up the last bite of his blue popsicle.

"Do you want?"

"...For me?"

The little boy nodded.

"You always share with us."

His brother smiled too.

"So we share with Papa."

Rin's gaze lingered on the half melted popsicle in his son's hand. After a brief pause, he leaned down and took the smallest bite.

"...Thanks."

Rin reached over and gave each of them a light flick on the forehead.

"Hey!"

"Papaaa..."

Neither of them sounded upset. If anything, they laughed harder as they stumbled back toward the football, still rubbing the spot dramatically.

"...Brats," Rin muttered, though there wasn't an ounce of annoyance in his voice.

Later on, they were already running again before he could say anything else, abandoning the last bites of their popsicles as the football rolled ahead of them. Their laughter echoed across the park as they chased after it, arguing over whose turn it was to kick the ball while neither of them seemed particularly interested in keeping score.

Rin watched them from afar.

It wasn't until now, watching his sons bicker over a football before breaking into laughter a second later, that Rin realized he'd never truly imagined a life beyond his goal. For years, he'd lived as though everything ended at the finish line.

Beat Sae. Become the best. There had been nothing after that.

As a child, he'd believed the greatest ending imaginable was defeating someone stronger than himself and dying with nothing left to chase. Even as he grew older, that way of thinking had never really left him. He had simply given it a different shape.

Yet somehow, life had continued beyond the future he'd pictured for himself.

Without him ever noticing, it had become afternoons at the park, grass stained knees, forgotten popsicles melting beneath the shade of a tree, and two little boys who reached for his hand as naturally as they reached for each other's.

Football had once been the place where he and Sae spent countless summers together. Later, it became inseparable from the promise that had fallen apart. Yet somehow, through the twins, it had quietly become something simpler again. A reason to spend another afternoon together. A reason to come home with dirt on their shoes and smiles they couldn't quite wipe away.

"Papa!"

Rin's lips curved into the faintest smile.

"...I'm coming."

As he crossed the field toward them, he realized that, for the first time in a long while, he wasn't chasing the future anymore.

He was already living it.

see what i did there? uchiha brothers reference ☆