Gao Mikado: never expecting any of the beauty that takes you by force, morning waves lapping against the shore of an Irish beach, the aroma of eggs sizzling with butter in a pan, touching someone's soft, cold hand and feeling the warmth transfer between you two like an iv line, sinking into a fluffy bed radiating warmth after a long day, putting your achy head on the table in class. you're so so tired all the time but you know somewhere in your heart that you'll never get these days back. you're making the best of them however you can, "i know you always do your best."
Noboru Kodo: sugar caramelising brown in an oven, waiting for someone until you get the sinking realisation that they stood you up, lazy rainy afternoons under a grey sky, sitting cross-legged with one knee up and being scolded by your mom for looking like a gangster, breathing the taste of minty fir sap in a cooling forest, in a dark room with someone's back to yours confessing every mistake both of you ever made, with embarrassed laughs. backing out of a convenience store queue because there are too many people, "if i could have been born with your courage life could've been so much easier."
Zanya Kisaragi: always on your toes for something that you can't quite understand why you expect, the same familiar street at twilight when everyone returns to their houses and turns on the lamps, the texture of green tea against your dry tongue, dipping your fingers into the swimming pool to check the temperature and feeling the warmth flee from your blood, waking up tangled in your bedspread, clicking noise from stapling paper together briskly. you have something to do later and you're looking forward to it, "you're an inspiration, okay?"
Jin Magatsu: waking up with an unstoppable headache. bumping into pointy cabinets and having to reach too far to grab your throbbing foot with two hands. the flavour of cotton candy melting on your face around your mouth. someone wipes it off for you with the back of their cardigan covered hand. blackberry-infused tea (coffee is for lowlifes), the best time you swear by is naptime on another tiring Monday after work, never quite judging but always perceptive of how those around you feel towards anything, good natured sarcasm, "tell me how I got this lucky again?"
Tetsuya Kurodake: the buzzing sound you get in your head when you've listened to your headphones on max volume for far too long, little packets of vitamin enhanced milk and the crinkly sound wrapping makes when you tear it off, bright cel shading on a hand-drawn animation sheet, forgetting to pick your clothes off the floor in the morning after you left them there last night, vacuuming dust from underneath your bed and nearly choking from the bunnies, maybe a little bit afraid of being inferior at the things you love, "promise me we'll still have tomorrow."
Raremaro Tafudonokimi: traditional kimono. perfectly arranged bouquets, tissue flowers, expensive art that was made by some amateur on eBay. watching run-of-the-mill animation and trying to think of deeper meaning behind it. playing an instrument so badly birds drop from the trees. a gentle late afternoon, even so you complain about how hot it is. small yapping dogs, feeding breadcrumbs to the pigeons, not really sure if anyone looks up to you despite how hard you try, always bluffing your way out of real challenges, "you know, you're not such a bad presence after all."
Kanata Ozora: switching on the stove. it's too hot to stay in your blanket fort although all your air conditioners are on, so you crawl out on your hands and knees only for all the pillows to come crashing down. the way oatmeal slides down your throat like a raw egg. rain off fresh leaves smells so good that you have ten planters on your kitchen window ledge. mini bonsai trees. not really knowing what makes someone so beautiful but wanting to keep them anyways, forever. "why are you so afraid of yourself? you're so much more than i could ever have hoped for!"
Shosetsu Kirisame: stoic apologies. clean washing folded neatly, the warmth of clothes after they come out from the machine, misty showers with wet floors. In the daylight around nine, it's so peaceful and quiet, just the ideal time to get into some studying. open windows, no emoticons ever, the way air tastes in your lungs when you inhale really deep, how satisfying it feels to squirt toothpaste onto the bristles, looking back and wishing you could slap your self-centred egoistic teen self. "if i could do life over again, there are a lot of things I'd change. but I'd never change you."
Keisetsu: chilled pillows against your head. folding your hands behind your back and crossing your fingers. danger at every streetlight (but at least you know it's coming), that moment in the dead of night when you bolt upright panting and not knowing what woke you. you've never had any dreams, awake or sleeping, except for wanting somewhere to belong to, somewhere you can be an irreplaceable part of a world. team player at heart. pastel macarons in between your teeth, cherry sauce scent, ozone depletion under your belt, "i'm hopeless. can't even make you want me."
Shusui Kanehebi: breakdancing and rap music with terrible lyrics and too many curse words. pessimistic social media messages, gulping down fruit smoothies in one go, the taste of adrenaline in your throat when you smell the hunt on the wind. calling someone close to you eight times is a daily routine just for laughs and more often than not they block you until you apologize through a mutual. waking up sleepily and walking into your own bathroom door; your roommate screams at you to keep quiet or die by their blade. "maybe i can live with me, but you sure can't, you're too dang perfect."
Sakate Onagashira: museum dates. it's always been second nature to wait for someone else at the bus stop, but you're still single up till now. late night when you're being kicked out of yet another party - where did you take the forked road? There's no specific moment you can trace it back to, maybe you were just meant to be this way whether you wanted to or not. pepper fried rice smells hella good. peeling open durians and pineapples with your bare hands just to show you can, shivering when it gets even slightly cool out, "there's nothing i have for you, don't even try."
Kemura: never seems to be listening but always remembers everything, is the one who pets the elephant in the room whilst everyone ignores it. self-destructive kindness is a thing? actually listens to all those ads instead of skipping past them. 3 am and visiting the nearby food market for snacks before realising that it's closed, you've been playing video games too long. Plays Pokémon Go, keeps potted plants in your room but they keep wilting and you don't know what to do at all. surprisingly good at handicrafts although you might seem clumsy - "Kemura will do his very best!"
Gaito Kurouzu: trying too hard to seem unbreakable. reads latin during lunch break. never wonders why, only wonders how. throws tantrums like an excellent five year old. has a master's degree in planning documents and arranging their calendar, likes chocolate cake but not the low-sugar ones with less butter. the freshly baked pie smell only top-tier bakers can achieve, burst of peeled oranges as you bite through the skin, citrusy detergent on hands, cloudy nights as you wander around the corner for an errand, "don't you dare sneak off without telling me."
Kyoya Gaen: glass windows that you could fall through if you leant hard enough, little lies that you don't mind anymore. love that you deny everyday by acting cruel to it, as if that'll ever change anything. the sound of the door lock clicking behind you (which side are you on?), gentle somber dust against your skin like specks of glitter, scent of moth-eaten paintings, excruciatingly simple pencil sketches, neutralising the things you don't like by not giving them recognition, the childish confidence most of us lost a long while ago, dead sunsets, "maybe we could have worked out in a different universe, 'name'."
Kiri Hyoryu: scarves tucked tightly around your shaking hands. the sharp bite of cinnamon's aroma that brings a pop of colour, humid windy days when you can't see straight for the hair in your eyes but there's always, always someone who grabs your hand and takes you straight where you need to be. soft white cheese against good bread as you chew, making New Year's mochi and Lunar Month mooncakes by hand (the flour dust against your skin), meeting someone you know well after a while and realising somehow you've only become closer, petting cafes, "how did you find me?"
Rouga Aragami: unshakeable confidence; no hesitation. The darkness of the resting warmth in the night sky, jazz tunes in a dark bar, aeroplanes crossing the sky in their white trails like map lines, no drifting just swimming, chewing meat and ripping it straight from the bone, being the shoulder that someone else leans on as tears roll down their face (however silent or loud they sob, it doesn't matter to you), the sound of milk as it's poured into a glass, forehead against another forehead as you whisper-promise to them that it will work out, climbing a tree and realising that you can't get down, "i won't give up on you, no matter how many times you ask me to."
Tasuku Ryuenji: running in the rain as the wind blows droplets straight into your eyes. you're going in the wrong direction but what does that matter? unease. you constantly don't know what to do with yourself. bread rising in the oven and burning away, smoldering quietly. smell the rich coffee from the cold vending machine as you pop open another cup. falling asleep besides a stuffed animal, its fur is clumped together after a long period of usage. falling for the feeling that you've finally become more than just useful to someone, to anyone, you are loved, "i think that family is something you put in front of the world; you are my everything."














