#8loom

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The living room smelled like Asuka’s cooking — warm, comforting, and exactly what the exhausted 8LOOM boys needed. Everyone gathered around the table, bowls of curry and plates of salad crowding the space. Takumi was telling Dan about a choreography idea. Eiji and Naruse were arguing over who stole whose shrimp. Yukiya and Takara were laughing at them from across the table. Asuka moved around making sure everyone had seconds.

Ryusei was seated beside y/n, quietly focused on eating like he always was: small bites, tidy posture, eyes lowered shyly. The other members were chatting loudly, filling the room with noise. Everything felt easy.

Y/n glanced at Ryusei again just as he puffed his cheeks a little while chewing, eyes blinking slowly. Something about it was so soft, so naturally cute, it made her chest tighten.

Without thinking, she reached up and gently cupped his cheeks.

Ryusei paused, blinked once, then looked at her with a small questioning tilt of his head.

“You’re too cute today, sorry...” she murmured, gently squeezing his cheeks.

Ryusei didn’t pull away. He just… accepted it with a small, almost shy smile. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “…I don’t mind. If it’s you.”

Dan looked over… and actually choked on air. He grabbed the edge of the table, eyes widening like he was witnessing a plot twist unfold in real time.

Asuka let out a tiny laugh — but it cracked halfway through, turning into a soft gasp. “E-eh?! This close?!”

Yukiya elbowed Takumi so hard the younger nearly dropped his spoon.

Yukiya stared, pointing dramatically. “WAIT — SHE’S HOLDING HIS FACE AND HE’S OKAY WITH IT?!? SINCE WHEN?!”

Naruse leaned so far across the table to see better that Eiji had to yank him back by his collar.

Takara covered his mouth with both hands, whispering like he was watching the finale episode of a drama. “This is HISTORY.”

Ryusei was the only one acting like this wasn’t a full-on storm.

He set his chopsticks down, exhaled quietly, and finally addressed the table. “Everyone. Sit.”

His voice was soft — but firm enough that the room froze.

He reached out, gently patting y/n’s head, fingers brushing her hair in that absentminded, comforting way he did when she was nervous.

“It’s okay,” he murmured to her, like the chaos behind them didn’t exist. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

The boys gasped like an audience at a live taping.

To distract her, Ryusei picked up his chopsticks again, lifted a small bite of food, and held it near her lips.

“Here,” he said simply. “Eat.” Ryusei calmly guided the food closer until she finally accepted the bite. Once she did, he patted her head softly, almost proud.

The members lost their minds all over again.

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