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As soon as his professor gives them freedom of movement, Sakuya stretches his arms over his head as a yawn escapes his mouth. He feels better as his back loosens, the lingering tension of a three-hour-long course slowly fading away.
Still, he hates his past self for choosing this class with nothing but the thought of a free weekday in mind when he enrolled. Now, all he wants is to sink into his chair for a few more minutes, more exhausted than his pride would like to admit, especially considering its only noon.
Debating whether lunch is worth more than a quick nap before his next class in three hours, the phone in his pocket begins to vibrate.
He pulls it out absentmindedly, secretly hoping for a class cancellation email. Instead, Ryo’s name lights up the screen.
For a second, Sakuya considers ignoring it.
He doesn’t, of course.
Ryo rarely texts him in the middle of the day unless it’s important—or at least important to Ryo. The vibration comes again before he can overthink it, and this time he unlocks the screen.
you done with class??? 12:03
sakuyaaa!!!! 12:04
Sakuya exhales softly, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Just got out. Why? 12:05
The thing about Ryo’s existence in Sakuya’s life is how deeply rooted it is. They met during their first year of high school when shared seats and classes turned casual conversations into a close friendship.
Their friendship was built from moments that felt insignificant at the time: rushed snacks between classes, long nights spent studying that inevitably dissolved into pointless talk, jokes and references that only ever made sense to the two of them.
They moved through school side by side, preparing for exams, complaining about the same teachers, badmauthing some classmates and learning each other’s routines without realizing it. Ryo was present for every quiet success and every unspoken disappointment, close enough to notice the things Sakuya never said aloud.
Somewhere along the way, Ryo stopped being just another face in the classroom and became a constant. Sakuya can’t say he doesn’t love him deeply after all these years, especially now that they live together after coming to Tokyo for university.
Living with Ryo has only reinforced that closeness and love. There’s a familiarity in their routines, in the way they move around each other without thinking, that makes everything feel effortless and natural. As if it was means to be, per sé.
I’m with yushi and we were wondering if you want to grab lunch together :3 12:08
As such friendships go, Sakuya has trouble identifying where he ends and where Ryo begins. He can’t help but wonder who ends up losing in the process, if anyone at all.
Seeing Yushi’s name attached to Ryo unsettles him in a way he refuses to fully examine. He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Ryo growing so close to Yushi in such short time bothers him, even if he won’t admit it out loud.
Yushi is just a friend, someone Ryo met a couple of months ago through his dance club. Easygoing and harmless by all accounts.
There’s no reason for Sakuya to feel the way he does; Ryo has always had more friends and so has he.
And even if he’s more than a friend to Ryo, why would I care? Sakuya thinks as he walks through the corridors toward the courtyard.
He reassures himself that it means nothing—just the unease that comes with routine being disrupted, with a space he’s grown accustomed to no longer feeling entirely his. He lets out a slow breath, forcing the thought away before it can settle, and turns his attention back to his phone, unwilling to dwell on it.
omw :P 12:20
By the time he reaches Ryo’s faculty building, Sakuya finds him seated outside at the usual tables, elbows resting on the surface as he hides his face in his hands.
Completely red. Down to the neck.
Sakuya slows without meaning to, confusion flickering through him—Ryo almost never looks flustered. The sight is unfamiliar enough to leave a strange pressure in his chest, a feeling he doesn’t quite know how to name.
Yushi sits across from him and Sakuya can’t see his face from this angle, but he can tell by the relaxed way he’s leaning back, by the way Ryo keeps groaning softly, that whatever was said is very much Yushi’s fault.
Ryo says something in response, muffled behind his hands, shoulders curling inward. Whatever it is makes Yushi laugh softly.
It shouldn’t matter.
Still, Sakuya hesitates before stepping closer, adjusting his pace as he approaches the table. He slips his phone into his pocket, schooling his expression into something neutral before either of them realizes he’s there.
“What’s going on?” he asks when he’s close enough, voice light, almost careless.
Ryo peeks up at him, startled for half a second before his face reddens even more. “It’s nothing,” he says quickly, dropping his hands. “Seriously.”
Yushi only smiles, small and unreadable. “Hey, Sakuya.” It’s the only thing he says.
Sakuya gives a small nod in response, his gaze flicking briefly toward Yushi before settling back on Ryo. Up close, the flush on Ryo’s face is impossible to miss; it hasn’t faded at all.
“Doesn’t really look like nothing.” Sakuya says, trying to keep his tone casual.
Ryo lets out a groan, dropping his hands to the table and slouching forward. “Please don’t ask.” he mutters, clearly mortified.
Yushi’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter. “I barely said anything.” he adds, far too amused to be convincing.
Sakuya exhales through his nose and takes the empty seat beside Ryo, resting his backpack at his feet, deciding to drop the subject altogether. If they’re being vague on purpose, then there’s probably a reason and he doesn’t feel like pushing it.
Despite Sakuya not being the one who usually initiates physical contact, his body moves before his thoughts can catch up. He leans forward without hesitation, resting his head in the narrow space between the table and Ryo’s stomach, settling against his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if he expects comfort to be there waiting.
As if he hasn’t told Ryo multiple times that he is not particularly fond of doing this with anyone.
Ryo stiffens for half a second, surprised, then relaxes just as easily. One of his hands hovers awkwardly in the air before coming down to rest against Sakuya’s hair, fingers threading through it in a familiar, absent-minded motion.
“I’m so tired, Ryo.” Sakuya murmurs, voice muffled and eyes closed. “You should’ve stopped me when I told you I was going to take this class.”
Ryo snorts softly. “I did and multiple times.” he says. “You didn’t listen.”
Sakuya hums in response, a quiet sound of acknowledgment rather than disagreement, shifting just enough to get more comfortable. The solid warmth beneath him makes it easier to stay still, to pretend the world has narrowed down to this small, familiar space.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep right here.” Sakuya hears Yushi say, his tone giving away the smile Sakuya doesn’t even need to see.
“Wouldn’t be the worst place.” Sakuya replies without opening his eyes. “I’ve got three hours to kill.”
Ryo glances down at him, fingers still carding through his hair. “You could’ve gone home.” he says, quieter now.
“And miss lunch?” Sakuya cracks one eye open, tilting his head just enough to look up at him. “Unlikely.”
That earns him a small huff of laughter from Ryo, the tension in his shoulders easing. “You’re impossible.” he says, though his hand remains where it is, fingers warm and steady. “At least sit up if you’re actually going to sleep.”
“In a minute.” Sakuya replies, already drifting, words slow around the edges.
Yushi’s gaze lingers on them for a moment longer before he looks away, stretching his arms over his head. “You two are weird.” he says lightly. “But kind of cute, I guess.”
Sakuya almost laughs. Almost. Instead, he lets his eyes close again, the sound of Ryo’s breathing and the low hum of the courtyard blending together. He tells himself—again—that this is normal. That it’s always been like this.
Still, Sakuya is painfully aware of Yushi across the table, of the way his presence changes the shape of the moment without doing anything at all. He tells himself it’s nothing. That this closeness has always existed, long before Yushi, long before university.
Before being claimed by Morpheus, Sakuya thinks that he should have done this much sooner instead of pushing away Ryo’s physical affection every time it was offered.
He ended up falling asleep for two of the three free hours he had, waking only because Ryo had to leave for classes at that moment. Yushi apparently left half an hour ago.
Before heading to class, though, Ryo turned to Sakuya—already sitting up, half-drowsy—and said, without any hint of embarrassment, “I got you lunch because I noticed you didn’t have anything in your bag.”
It wasn’t like Sakuya really minded; it was just Ryo after all. But still, the thought of someone going through his things made him pause for a fraction of a second.
“How did you even buy this if half my body was on top of you?” he asked as he checked up the bag, raising an eyebrow.
Ryo grinned. “Well… Yushi actually went, but I told him to do it and paid for it!”
Sakuya let out a small, incredulous laugh. “Of course you did.”
Ryo laughed softly in return, ruffling Sakuya’s hair just a little. Sakuya hesitated for a moment but as he saw how Ryo was about to leave Sakuya said “Do you want to walk home together? I finish at five though…”
Ryo froze for half a second, caught off guard by the question, before a gentle smile spread across his face. “Yeah… of course. I don’t mind waiting.”
Ryo slung his backpack over his shoulder, giving Sakuya a ´see you later´and one last glance before starting to walk toward his classroom. Sakuya watched him go, the small warmth of Ryo’s smile lingering, making the table feel a little less empty.
He picked up the lunch bag Ryo had left for him, feeling the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. He picked at his lunch slowly, the warmth of the food matching the quiet warmth in his chest. As he ate, letting the moment settle around him, Sakuya couldn’t help but think how lucky he truly was.
He is indeed very lucky to have Ryo as his best friend.
By the time Sakuya finished his last class of the day, he didn’t have the energy to think about everything he felt for Ryo.
Whether it was a lot or just enough, whether it was strange or not, he didn’t care. Sakuya was simply exhausted, every part of him drained from the day and from the quiet, unspoken weight of his own thoughts.
Halfway through class, keeping his early word, Ryo sent him a message saying he would be waiting outside his faculty building. Sakuya wanted to reply in that moment that maybe it was too cold outside and that he should come in and wait by his classroom instead, but he realized that he might be crossing a line.
And as he tried to understand the word the professor had written on the board, and how it connected to the other ideas linked with arrows, he realized he should probably stop overthinking.
Ryo is Ryo, and he is his friend. His best friend, in fact. It’s normal to want to make sure a friend doesn’t freeze outside because of him.
Still, he didn’t send the message.
Maybe Sakuya should have, because when he went out to meet Ryo at the spot he’d said, he found him animatedly talking, a coffee in hand, with someone who was just as new in their life as Yushi is. Though this person is way more effusive and affectionate than—in Sakuya´s thoughts—Yushi ever will.
Not that he actually bothers him as much as the blonde does, since Sakuya is just as close to him as he is to Ryo—but right now, all he really wants is to get home and collapse onto his bed.
Sliding closer without either of them noticing, Sakuya sat beside Ryo on the steps, curling in on himself because of the cold. Without a particular tone, he murmured loud enough for both of them to hear. “You used to only have ugly friends.”
Surprised at the sudden newcomer voice, Ryo froze mid-laugh, the coffee tilting slightly in his hand before he glanced at Sakuya. The other boy for his part, just smiled and, in a playful, high-pitched voice, said, “Are you flirting with me, Saku?”
Sakuya just chuckled, genuine, letting the sound blend with the faint wind around them. He didn’t answer the question—there was no need. Instead, he asked, “It’s been a while since I last saw you… how have you been, Riku?”
Sliding up beside Sakuya now, Riku replied enthusiastically, “Aww, you missed me? I didn’t think you’d notice I haven’t been around as much.” As he said the last word, he leaned against Sakuya like a little cat seeking affection. “I’ve been working part-time for a while now. What my parents give me just isn’t enough anymore.” he continued, his tone shifting to something more dejected.
“It’s because of the overpriced coffee you buy every morning.” Sakuya replied, half serious, half teasing. “Sometimes you don’t even buy it just for yourself.”
Riku’s grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have to win over my prince somehow, right, Ryo?”
Ryo blinked, genuine surprise flashing across his face. “Eh? What do I have to do with this?”
As he looked at the coffee in his best friend’s hand, Sakuya couldn’t help but ask, trying to make his tone as teasing as possible. “Riku… do you like Ryo?”
Riku only laughed, a bright, teasing sound that made both Sakuya and Ryo look at him in mild confusion. “You two are adorable,” he said, shaking his head. “Seriously.”
Before either of them could respond, they saw Riku glance at his watch and sigh, his shoulders slumping in the way only a tired university student can. “I can’t believe it’s already 5:30… I want to die.”
“Do you still have classes?” Ryo asked with genuine surprise, taking over some of Sakuya´s personal space while he was at it.
“It’s the only one I have, actually.” Riku replied, “but I really hate this time slot.”
Riku stretched his arms out with an exaggerated groan, pushed himself up from the steps, and gave them a tired, almost resigned smile. “Alright, I should get going,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow, you two—If god allows it.”
“Maybe God,” Sakuya replied dryly, “but I’m not so sure about you.”
Riku burst into a hearty laugh, the sound warm despite the exhaustion clinging to him. He reached out to give Sakuya’s shoulder a quick squeeze before turning to Ryo, offering him a lazy salute. “Don’t stay out too late, babies.”
With that, he started off toward his building, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. Sakuya and Ryo watched him go until he disappeared around the corner, shoulders relaxing now that it’s just the two of them again. The courtyard feels different without a third presence—quieter, more intimate in a way Sakuya is suddenly very aware of.
“You okay?” Ryo asks, glancing down at him.
Sakuya shrugs, pulling his jacket a little tighter around himself. “Just tired, like really tired.” he says, honest. “Today felt longer than usual.”
Ryo hums in understanding and shifts closer without really thinking about it, close enough that their arms brush. The contact is brief, accidental, but neither of them moves away.
“Let’s go home then,” Ryo says after a moment, gentle. Then, suddenly enthusiastic—as if he’s only just remembered—he lightly bumps Sakuya’s arm. “Ah! My mom gave me money today, let’s take a taxi!”
Sakuya can’t help but find it adorable, the way Ryo’s eyes light up and his smile widens. He snorts softly, unable to resist teasing him. “Ryo, we live like twenty minutes away. Eight if we take the subway.”
Ryo pauses, blinking as if doing the math in his head. The enthusiasm dims only a little, replaced by something sheepish. “Yeah, but…” he drags out. “It’s cold. And you’re tired.”
Sakuya hums, glancing at the darkening sky, then back to Ryo. At the way his shoulders are already slumping with the weight of the day. “You just want to spoil yourself.”
Ryo doesn’t even deny it. “I’ve earned it.” he says, a little smug. “Long day.”
“So have I.” Sakuya replies, but there’s no bite to it. He shifts his weight, feeling the ache settle deeper into his legs. “We’ll survive the walk.”
Ryo tilts his head, studying him for a second. “You look like you won’t.”
Sakuya scoffs. “Sure.”
Ryo huffs out a quiet laugh, unconvinced. “That didn’t sound very confident.”
Sakuya rolls his shoulders, as if physically shaking the exhaustion off. “I’m fine.” he insists, even as his body betrays him by sagging just a little. “I’ve done worse.”
“Debatable.” Ryo says, eyes softening as he reaches out without thinking, fingers briefly catching the sleeve of Sakuya’s jacket. “You literally fell asleep on me today.”
Sakuya stands up from his spot, stretching slightly before slinging his bag over his shoulder. Without another word, he starts walking toward the university exit.
Ryo lets out a quiet laugh and quickly follows after him, falling into step at his side as they head out together.
“If we walk home, we can stop by that stall you like.” Sakuya says, half-justifying, half-negotiating. “That way we’ll just get home, shower, and go straight to sleep.”
Ryo pauses at that, considering it for only a second before his lips curl into a small smile. “Okay, then,” he says, pulling his phone out to check to hour. “Walk it is. But if you complain even once—”
“I won’t.”
Ryo snorts, clearly unconvinced. “You say that every time.”
“And I mean it every time,” Sakuya replies, deadpan.
As they reach the exit, Ryo tucks his phone away. The rush of passing vehicles sends waves of sharp, biting cold their way, and Sakuya instinctively tucks his hands into his sleeves.
Ryo notices and without saying anything, he shifts a little closer, shoulders brushing just enough to share warmth. “I don’t know why you don’t want to call a taxi.” Ryo mutters under his breath, pouting slightly. “I can’t even feel my nose.”
Sakuya catches the expression out of the corner of his eye and feels his ears warm before he can stop it. He quickly looks away, a small smile tugging at his lips as he hides it. “You’re imposible.”
Ryo grins at this. “And yet, you still love me so, so, so much.”
“That’s because I make poor life choices.” Sakuya replies dryly, though he doesn’t move away when Ryo nudges closer again.
They fall into step, their pace unhurried despite the cold and exhaustion. The streetlights flicker on one by one, casting long shadows over the pavement. Ryo swings his arms lightly as he walks, energy slowly bleeding back into him now that the day’s finally winding down.
After a moment, he glances at Sakuya from the corner of his eye. “If we get sick, I’m calling the taxi next time.”
Sakuya hums, noncommittal. “That’s a future problem.”
Ryo clicks his tongue. “See? This is exactly why I worry.”
“You worry too much.” Sakuya says, but there’s no real protest in his voice.
For a moment, neither of them speaks. The sound of passing cars in the busy street fills the space between them, tires hissing against the pavement. The air is cold, biting at their faces, but their pace is unhurried and for the first time all day, the weight in Sakuya’s chest eases just a little.
It’s a couple of days later when everything finally starts to take shape for Sakuya. A quiet, unremarkable Sunday. He’s sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, playing Tetris on the TV, while Ryo lies stretched out beside him, occupying his usual spot.
The room is dim, lit mostly by the shifting colors of the screen and the lazy afternoon light slipping in through the curtains. Everything feels slow. Comfortable.
Out of nowhere, Ryo speaks. “Do you remember what you asked Riku the other day?”
“Eh?” Sakuya replies absently, eyes still glued to the blocks dropping faster and faster on the screen, far more focused on not messing up his streak than on whatever Ryo might be implying.
Ryo lifts his head slightly, watching him for a moment. “You asked if he liked me.”
That makes Sakuya’s fingers falter just enough for a block to land somewhere he didn’t intend. He clears his throat. “Did I?”
Ryo hums, amused. “You did!” He shifts, sitting up cross-legged on the couch now, fully facing Sakuya, who pauses the game and lets the controller rest loosely in his hands.
“I don’t really remember…” Sakuya says, avoiding Ryo’s gaze. “Why do you ask anyway?”
“Because I realized we’ve never really talked about it.” Ryo replies, resting his chin on his hand like some overdramatic anime detective. He holds the pose for half a second too long before dropping it.
“Why would we talk about Riku liking you?” Sakuya asks, finally turning to look at him, genuinely confused.
“That’s not it, idiot!” Ryo says, lightly thumping his thigh with the back of his fingers. “I mean… about that.”
“That what?” Sakuya presses, brows knitting together.
Suddenly obviously self-conscious about whatever he’s about to ask, Ryo opens his mouth, then closes it again. His ears turn red first, then his cheeks, the color spreading steadily like he’s losing a battle Ryo never planned to fight. “About what you think about…” he murmurs, voice dipping so low the words almost disappear into the space between them.
“What I think about what?” Sakuya asks again, more confused than he’s ever has been in his short twenty years.
Ryo immediately ducks his head, eyes fixed on the fabric of the couch as if it has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room. His shoulders curl inward, fingers fidgeting in his lap, embarrassment written into every small movement.
“About…” Ryo tries again, voice quieter now. He swallows, cheeks still flushed, refusing to meet Sakuya’s eyes. “About what you think about two boys… you know.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Sakuya blinks once. Then twice.
“…Two boys?” he repeats, slow, careful, as if saying the words out loud might finally make them mean something. His grip on the controller tightens without him noticing. “Like—”
“Like that,” Ryo cuts in quickly, flustered, lifting one hand in a vague gesture before letting it fall again. “Not as friends. I mean… romantically.”
The moment the words leave Ryo’s mouth, Sakuya takes a second to actually process the scene in front of him—and then he can’t help it. A laugh slips out of him, sudden and unguarded.
“Why are you getting so worked up just to ask me that?” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck, the amusement soft but tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, I guess.”
Ryo stiffens immediately. “I just didn’t want you to misunderstand!” he blurts out, words tumbling over each other now. “I mean, yeah, I didn’t know, but I kind of figured… you wouldn’t really think about things like that.”
Sakuya glances at him then, at the way Ryo’s hands are clenched together and the way he’s holding his breath like he’s afraid of what comes next. Or maybe that’s just Sakuya projecting because he wants there to be more.
It can’t be. Sakuya panics inside. I can’t do that to him.
“But I don’t think I have a problem with it.” Sakuya adds, deliberately nonchalant, as if he were commenting on the weather instead of brushing past something much bigger about himself. He tilts his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Why? Does our Ryo like a boy?”
The words hang there, teasing, almost careless.
Ryo’s head snaps up so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t strain his neck. “W–what?” he sputters, ears turning red almost instantly. “No! I mean— I didn’t say— That’s not—”
Sakuya watches him unravel, strangely amused, oddly calm. It’s easier to joke. Easier to poke at it, keep it light, pretend that he finally understands why his chest and stomach and head were behaving weird lately.
“I’m just asking.” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “You’re the one who brought it up.”
Ryo groans, covering his face with his hands. “You’re the worst.”
Sakuya lets out a quiet, genuine laugh before he can stop himself. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches out and runs his hand through Ryo’s hair, almost absent-minded, like he would with a nervous puppy.
His voice comes out warm, affectionate and full of love. “I’ll always be your best friend, Ryo.” he says lightly. “Don’t worry about stupid things.”
Ryo freezes under his hand.
For just a second, the room feels too quiet.
Then Ryo lets out a shaky breath, rising and falling beneath Sakuya’s palm. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t lean into it either. “Yeah…” he says eventually, voice muffled by his hands. “I know.”
Sakuya keeps his hand there a moment longer than necessary, fingers idly carding through Ryo’s hair before he realizes what he’s doing. He withdraws slowly, settling back into his side of the couch like nothing happened, like the air hadn’t shifted at all.
He reaches for the controller again, unpausing the game. The familiar music fills the space, loud enough to cover the silence that lingers.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sakuya sees Ryo tilt his head toward the TV for a brief second. He doesn’t look at Sakuya even once. Instead, he pushes himself up from the couch after letting out a heavy sigh—the kind that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest— and walks away.
Just before the door to his room closes, Sakuya hears him wish him good night.
Sakuya doesn’t even dare point out that it’s only five in the afternoon,
That Ryo hasn’t even had dinner yet.
That night, Sakuya didn’t come to any conclusion beyond the thought that maybe he could paint his walls a different color. He also realized he couldn’t because the apartment is rented and the deposit way too high.
So even if he wanted to change things, he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
He had too much to lose.
It has been two weeks since that day and they never talked about the subject again.
Sakuya thought that if he brought it up again, he would start to seem suspicious. Also because he realized that day that Ryo clearly didn’t want to talk about it either.
Nothing changed, even though now the tightness in his chest and the urge to throw up every time Ryo got too close to someone else had a name and a clear reason. Just because Ryo also liked men didn’t mean he liked him.
Isn’t that thought a little offensive? Sakuya wondered as he walked to his last class of the day. A bit full of myself too, maybe?
He only had two classes today, and then he would go have lunch at Riku’s workplace. Luckily, Ryo was busy.
Well, maybe things had changed a little for him, but he was trying not to show it! There was only so much he could do after discovering too much all at once.
He liked his best friend slash roommate, and that said best friend liked men.
I can’t believe I’m going to lose to a man. He thought again as he took a seat at the back of the classroom. At least women are prettier, I can handle losing to them, it makes sense. But to a man? I should have asked whether he was gay or bisexual. Now it is too late and suspicious to wonder! Sakuya realized as he furiously scribbled in his notebook.
The professor’s voice drones on at the front of the room, words bleeding together into background noise as Sakuya keeps scribbling, lines crossing over each other with no real meaning behind them. He underlines a sentence twice, then a third time, before realizing he isn’t even listening.
He exhales sharply and drops the pen, leaning back in his chair. This is stupid, he thinks. All of it. The jealousy, the overthinking, the way his mind keeps circling back to Ryo no matter how hard he tries to redirect it.
Ryo is his best friend. His roommate. The person who knows his routines, his bad habits, the things he can and can’t eat. That’s all this is supposed to be.
And yet.
Sakuya presses his lips together, staring at the ceiling for a moment before forcing his gaze back to the board. He tells himself—again—that nothing has to change.
That nothing will change.
By the time the class ends and students start filing out, Sakuya feels drained in a way that has nothing to do with academics. He packs his bag slowly, methodically, as if moving any faster might make his thoughts spill out with him.
Lunch at Riku’s work. Maybe that will help to think about something else, he thinks as he slings his backpack over his shoulder.
“Ryo told me he told you about that.” is the first thing he hears Riku say when he finally spots him at the restaurant where he works.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working? You didn’t even welcome me.” Sakuya says, deliberately ignoring the comment. “What’s the best here?”
Riku raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, and as he sits down across from him, he says, “You really have nothing to say?”
“Why are you sitting down?” Sakuya ignores him again, not even sparing him a glance. He knows that the moment their eyes meet, his nervousness will be obvious. “I’m going to call your boss.”
Riku lets out a quiet laugh, resting his chin in his hand. “Relax. Break time. And you wouldn’t actually do that.”
Sakuya clicks his tongue, still staring stubbornly at the menu. “Don’t be so sure.”
“You’re acting weird.” Riku says lightly, though his gaze sharpens just a bit. “Did something happen?”
“No.” Sakuya replies too quickly.
That earns him another look. Riku leans back in his chair, studying him openly now. “You know that makes it sound like something definitely happened, right?”
Sakuya exhales through his nose, fingers tightening around the edge of the menu. “Just order for me. I’m allergic to shrimps.”
Riku watches him for a moment longer, then stands. “Fine. I’ll bring you something good.”
As Riku walks away, Sakuya finally lets his shoulders slump. The tension in his chest doesn’t disappear, but at least it eases enough for him to breathe.
He hadn’t come here to talk about Ryo or feelings or anything complicated.
He’d just wanted lunch and see his friend.
Unfortunately, he has a feeling that Riku isn’t going to let things stay that simple.
It wasn’t even five minutes after Riku walked away that he returned to the table.
“Why two plates?” Sakuya asked, feigning ignorance.
Riku set them down carefully, one in front of Sakuya and the other across from him. “Because I’m eating with you.”
“You’re working.” Sakuya replied flatly.
“And I’m on break.” Riku countered again just as easily, pulling out the chair and sitting down again. “Besides, you looked like you needed supervision.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do.” Riku cut in, grinning. “You’ve been sulking since you walked in.”
Sakuya frowned at his food, poking at it with his fork. “I’m not sulking.”
“That’s exactly what someone who’s sulking would say.”
He sighed, shoulders drooping despite himself. “Can we just eat?”
Riku hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. “Sure. For now.”
The emphasis on for now made Sakuya’s stomach twist, and not because of hunger. He sighed, and before even taking his first bite, he admitted defeat. “Just ask whatever it is you want to ask.”
Sakuya had to wait for Riku to swallow the food in his mouth before he finally spoke. With no particular expression, he let out. “What do you think about what Ryo told you?”
“Nothing in particular.” Sakuya replied, blowing on his food before taking a bite. “It has nothing to do with me.”
Riku watched him for a moment longer than necessary, eyes narrowing just slightly. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is.” Sakuya said, a little too quickly. He focused on his plate, chewing slowly. “Ryo’s life is his own. Who he likes, what he does, none of that really concerns me.”
Riku thought about the answer for a moment, digesting it along with his food, then said, “I guess that’s true. I just thought you might have more to say.”
Sakuya finally looked at him, frowning in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing in particular.” Riku shrugged. “Maybe saying you didn’t expect it or something like that. I don’t know. Honestly, I just wanted to gossip a little, because as far as I know, we’re the only ones who know.”
It was only after Riku said that that Sakuya realized it, he’d been so nervous and wrapped up in his own head that it hadn’t even crossed his mind before.
“Since when do you know?” he asked, then added quickly, trying to mask the sudden edge in his voice. “We barely know you. It’s been, what, a year at most.”
Riku paused, studying him again, as if weighing how honest to be. “About three months ago, maybe.” When he saw the mix of confusion and irritation on Sakuya’s face, Riku pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Check your phone.”
“What? Why?” Sakuya said, watching him type, the spoon still in Riku’s mouth even as his attention stayed fixed on the screen in his hands.
Riku ignored him. Only after Sakuya felt his phone vibrate did Riku finally speak again, already going back to his food. “Check it.”
Curiosity got the better of him, even though Sakuya didn’t want to take his eyes off Ryo’s apparent confidant. As he opened his messaging app, he couldn’t stop the thought from looping in his head: why did Ryo trust Riku more than him, his best friend of so many years?
Did he think I’d react badly? He wondered and immediately hated how fast his mind jumped somewhere impossible. Or is there something else?
The message was short, brutally direct.
Ryo saw me kissing my boyfriend a couple of months ago, and he told me because he couldn’t stand keeping the secret anymore. I guess he thought there was no better person than me to listen and understand him, since we’re going through the same thing. 13:24
Sakuya stared at the screen, the words blurring for a second before settling in his chest like a weight. Slowly, he lowered the phone onto the table.
Does Ryo also have a boyfriend? Sakuya thought immediately. And before he could even voice the thought, dizziness hit him. He brought his hands up to his head to steady himself, feeling his blood pressure drop and heat rush to his face. Tears welled in his eyes, even as he squeezed them shut as hard as he could.
The smell of the food made him nauseous. The spices, the steam rising from the plate right beneath his nose, became the only thing he could sense. His stomach churned, his throat tightened, and for a terrifying moment, he felt like he was suffocating.
“Sakuya.” Riku said, half rising from his seat when he noticed the change. “Hey—are you okay?”
Sakuya barely shook his head, unable to answer. He pushed the plate a few inches away, searching for air, counting breaths that didn’t seem to fully reach his lungs.
“I want to go home,” Sakuya said once the sensation that he was about to die eased a little. He gathered his things, and as he stood up, he spoke again, his voice unsteady. “I’ll transfer the money for lunch. I’m sorry—I suddenly started feeling sick. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He didn’t know whether he had actually said those words or only thought them, whether Riku had understood him or even replied. The only thing he knew was that he wanted his mother’s arms around him and to cry in them for an entire week.
Unfortunately for him, he had an exam the next day and far too much shame to let his parents see him like this.
If they ask me what happened, what the hell am I supposed to tell them? It’s not like I could tell them the truth. He thought, once the heaviness in his chest eased just a little.
He didn’t go home right away, because if Ryo were to be there when he arrived, he wouldn’t know what to say to him either.
Because even if it might not be obvious to anyone else, he knows Ryo would notice something was wrong the moment his eyes land on him.
Instead, he got on the first bus that arrived without even checking the route. He stayed on as it looped through the city, stop after stop, getting off only to board another one going somewhere else. He watched the streets blur past the windows, people getting on and off, day slowly giving way to dusk, then night. He thought about everything and nothing at the same time, turning the same thoughts over until they lost their sharp edges.
By the time he finally realized how late it had gotten and an excuse to say, his phone screen glowed with the time like an accusation. He was far from where he should’ve been.
So he walked.
Two hours on foot, hands buried deep in his pockets, the night air feeling way cooler against his dried tears. Each step felt heavy leading back to the apartment he shared with Ryo. With every block closer, his stomach twisted tighter, a mix of exhaustion, dread, and something dangerously close to longing.
When the building finally came into view, Sakuya slowed down. He stood there for a moment, staring up at the dark windows and took a breath.
Then another.
And pushed the door open.
Sakuya didn’t announce his arrival, hoping Ryo was already fast asleep. Unfortunately, he knew that wasn’t true. The several missed calls on his phone said otherwise, the last one only a few minutes old.
They always let each other know when they were going to be late, and on top of that, Riku had probably told Ryo about the scene at the restaurant. It was only natural that Ryo would be worried.
The moment the door clicked shut, Ryo, who had been sitting on the couch, turned his head sharply in his direction.
“Sakuya!” he called out, his voice thick with concern, rushing toward him when he saw that Sakuya hadn’t moved from the door. “Do you know what time it is? Where were you? Why didn’t you call me? Are you okey’”
The questions came rushing at him all at once. The worry so clearly etched into Ryo’s voice was what finally undid him. Sakuya leaned back against the door, slid down until he was sitting on the floor, and started to cry.
Ryo stopped short, startled, not knowing what to do. It was the first time he had ever seen the younger cry like this. Not daring to touch him, he crouched down in front of him, barely a few inches away and asked the obvious once Sakuya’s breathing seemed a little less frantic.
“Hey… are you okay?”
Despite the tears and the constant sniffing, Sakuya let out a soft, almost breathless laugh. “Do I look okay to you?” he said, finally looking at him for the first time that night.
The moment their eyes met, he completely broke down again. This time, though, he felt Ryo’s hand gently patting and rubbing the part of his back that wasn’t pressed against the door.
After a few seconds, when Sakuya finally managed to catch his breath, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Is it true that you’re seeing someone?”
Ryo froze in place, staring at every inch of the boy in front of him. Confusion flickered across his face before he spoke. “Are you crying because I’m dating?”
Without thinking, Sakuya half shouted back, his voice cracking. “When you say it like that, it sounds weird!”
“But that’s what’s happening!” Ryo replied, just as heated though still confused.
“Then it is true?” Sakuya shot back. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I’m supposed to be your best friend!”
Ryo frowned, shaking his head hard. “I didn’t tell you because I’m not seeing anyone. Where did you even get that from?!”
“It’s Yushi, right?” Sakuya said, calmer now but still accusatory. “I knew there was something off about him.”
Ryo blinked, clearly thrown off. “What? No. Yushi’s just… Yushi.” he said, almost incredulous. “He’s someone I find cute and friendly and—why are we even talking about him now?”
At that, Sakuya couldn’t help it. He opened his mouth like a fish, words failing him for a second before they finally tumbled out. He looked straight at Ryo, a flicker of anguish breaking through his composure. “You like him, right? Because he’s cute and friendly? I’m like that too!”
“What does that have to do with you?” Ryo snapped, the question coming out sharper than he meant it to.
A few seconds passed. Then he really looked at Sakuya. At his tear-streaked face, his red nose, the way he was staring at him like someone who’d just had a kitten ripped out of their hands. Something clicked.
Ryo’s eyes widened. “You—” He faltered, disbelief washing over his expression. “What?”
Sakuya had nowhere left to run. Caught, exposed, he lifted both hands to his face, pressing his palms over his eyes as if that might hold the tears back. His shoulders shook once, twice, and then the words spilled out anyway, broken and desperate.
“Yes!” he blurted. “I’m sorry, Ryo. I’m so sorry. I really do!”
The confession hung heavy in the air.
Ryo didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, frozen, staring at Sakuya as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet. The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until Sakuya peeked at him through his fingers, already bracing himself for whatever came next.
In front of him, Ryo had one hand clamped over his mouth, eyes wide, face burning red. Redder than Sakuya had ever seen anyone in his life.
“Say something, please.” Sakuya started, panic creeping back into his chest. “Please, Ryo—”
Ryo let out a shaky breath that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob. He dragged his hand down his face, fingers trembling, and then he laughed again, weak and disbelieving.
“You are an idiot, Sakuya.” Ryo said, his voice cracking. “Really.”
“I know!” Sakuya shot back, tears spilling freely now, curled in on himself like a child throwing a tantrum. “I really didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t even realize it until it was already too late. I swear, I—”
“I like you too.”
The words cut clean through the noise in Sakuya’s head.
He froze, breath catching painfully in his chest. “What?”
Ryo swallowed, his ears burning red, but this time he didn’t look away. “I said… I like you too,” he repeated, softer but steadier. “I have for a while.”
Sakuya stared at him, stunned, tears still clinging to his lashes. “You— you do?”
Ryo let out a shaky huff of laughter. “Yeah, sadly.”
After a few seconds of watching Sakuya stand there, clearly not knowing what to say, Ryo got up from his spot, brushed himself off a little, and held out his hand. “Stop crying like a baby and let’s go sit on the couch. You’re getting your clothes all dirty from the grime on your shoes.”
After standing up, Sakuya asked for a second to go wash his face, but one minute turned into three, then four, then fifteen.
Ryo knocked on the bathroom door a couple of times, and every time Sakuya answered the same thing. “Just give me a bit, I’m coming out.”
Thirty more minutes passed, and the hour started to weigh on Ryo. It was 2:32 in the morning, and they both had early classes. So he knocked one last time and said he was going to bed.
That was when Sakuya finally came out of the bathroom, red as a tomato. He grabbed the sleeve of Ryo’s pajama top before he could take another step.
With his head lowered and unable to meet his eyes, Sakuya apologized. “I’m sorry, I just… I got embarrassed looking at myself in the mirror. I’ve never seen myself like that before, and the swelling in my eyes wouldn’t go down. I don’t look very cute ri—”
Ryo’s laughter cut him off. Suddenly, Sakuya felt Ryo bend forward, his hair brushing against Sakuya’s stomach as he doubled over trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes. “I’ve known you for five years,” Ryo said between laughs. “I’ve seen you way worse than this, I promise. Don’t worry about stupid things.”
And all at once, Sakuya remembered saying those exact same words just a couple of weeks ago. He let out a soft laugh of his own and finally looked straight at Ryo, calmer now, the tight knot in his chest loosening by the second.
“I don’t think I actually told you before but I really, really like you, Ryo.”