Work Text:
If nothing else, Yuma is good at committing to the bit.
Back in high school, he had spent his afternoons in classroom 1207 attending improv club. There were no rules in improv save one, which was that no matter what, you had to keep the joke running. You had to say yes to the joke no matter what. It was over the moment you broke character.
Yuma never broke character.
For university, he applied to study Business. It seemed ridiculous when he first chose it, Yuma, who told jokes and wrote songs and did backflips in the school parking lot, studying something boring and practical. When he first chose it, everyone said, Ha! Yuma, that doesn’t suit you. By his second year of university, people looked at him and said , Okay, he’s a Business major, why not?
And, when he graduated, moved two cities over to work as an accountant in a tall office building with windows that reflected sunlight on clear days— no one questioned it at all.
This is how you commit to the bit.
---
Yuma’s been in this city for a year now.
Every weekday morning, he wakes up at 7 AM to take the train to work. He goes to meetings, looks at balance sheets, keys numbers into Excel. He clocks out at 6 PM and takes the train back. He enters his small studio apartment, hangs up his jacket, and opens the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for today’s dinner.
Since he’s a big believer in meal prep and has already done most of the work on Sunday, it takes him about fifteen minutes to throw something together. He eats dinner at the little dining table that came with the apartment and then rinses off his plate in the sink.
By now it’s 8 PM. He’s tired. He checks his phone for texts, and then he opens up Crunchyroll, scrounging around for something to watch.
Nobody really tells you what it’s like, after university. Yuma’s several hours away from his old friends: most of them had stayed back in their home state, and the ones that didn’t had moved to a different big city than he did. He’s kept in touch with them, texting and calling, but he hasn’t figured out how to make new friends. His coworkers are a lot older than him, and none of them are in on the joke— hey, I’m not really an adult, or an accountant, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life— and talking to people outside of work? God.
Yuma’s twenties: beautiful and monotonous and lonely.
Still, there are things to look forward to, that wouldn’t have been possible when he was younger. He likes that he gets to set his own routines. He likes his apartment, having his own space. And even though it’s terrifying that everyone’s doing their own thing these days, he has to admit that it was exciting when Fuma had texted him with a SAVE THE DATE all those months ago.
The official invitations came this week. The paper is lightly scented and cream-colored, and Yuma’s name is written in gold script.
Did you get your invitation, Harua texts him.
Yes, Yuma texts back, and sends a salute emoji.
When Fuma and Kei had asked Harua to be their wedding planner, all the way back in the beginning, Harua had almost said no. He had confided to Yuma, he wasn’t sure if he could pull it off. But the truth is that nobody could pull it off but Harua. He’s a pro at his job, and Yuma really does salute him. In any case Yuma tries his best to make sure that there isn’t much trouble on his end. He’s a guest, he doesn’t want to make Harua’s life harder, everything is hectic as it is—
Oh, Yuma’s phone is ringing.
He looks at the contact name, double takes. It’s a weekday night.
“Nicholas?” he says, taking a seat on the couch.
“Hey,” Nicholas says, his voice bright. “We just got our invites in the mail! They’re really pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Yuma says. “I’ll bet you that these are Kei’s doing.”
“I’m not going to make a bet that I can’t win,” Nicholas says. “The perfume stayed on ours even with all the distance.”
Nicholas can’t see it, but Yuma smiles, a wry twist of his mouth. “So, why are you calling?”
“So blunt. I don’t know,” Nicholas says. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I’m excited to see you at the wedding.”
Right. After university, Yuma had moved one (deeply inconvenient) car ride away, but with Nicholas it was a whole plane flight. He’s on the West Coast with Euijoo, and Yuma feels a familiar anger, but—
“Yeah,” Yuma exhales. “I’m excited to see you too.”
“Are you bringing anyone?” Nicholas asks, teasing. “Any plus ones I should know about?”
There’s some childish part of Yuma that wants to say, you’re not allowed to do this. You’re not allowed to call me, and tell me you miss me, that you’re excited to see me. And you aren’t allowed to ask me about my love life, ever, ever. But Nicholas’ lack of tact has always been his charm, and to question it is to question the warmth of an open flame after getting too close and burning your hand. So Yuma takes a deep breath, reminds himself that they are friends, and gives Nicholas an answer.
“Yes, I am.”
It isn’t a lie.
Okay, yes it totally is.
“Oh my god,” Nicholas says. “Who?”
Yuma’s panicking now, and so he totally forgets that he could just say no one you know and scrambles to pick an answer.
“Jo,” he finally says. “Jo Asakura.”
“REALLY?” Nicholas says. “Wait, that’s so— ah, I wouldn’t have predicted it at all!”
Why not , Yuma want to ask, but then he realizes that since Nicholas is Nicholas he’s probably pulling up his contacts and texting Jo right now, and that cannot happen. “It’s new,” Yuma says. “And we’re keeping it quiet for now. So don’t go talking about it.”
“I guess it makes sense,” Nicholas says, and well if nothing else this is hilarious, because there’s nothing about this that makes sense. The line between tragedy and comedy really is as thin as a razor. “You guys balance each other out.”
“It’s new,” Yuma says again. Suddenly he feels sick. “I’m going to go now, I have to be up early tomorrow morning. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“Yeah, okay,” Nicholas says. “I’m so excited! And so happy for you!”
Yuma hangs up. He flops onto his side, pressing his forehead into the couch cushion. Jo Asakura? he thinks.
He might as well have pulled a name out of a hat. The reason he even thought of Jo was because he was scrolling through his contacts last night and the surname Asakura put Jo near the top, and Yuma thought, huh, yeah, Jo is in this city. And then he thought, why, out of everyone I know, is Jo the one that ended up in this city?
They aren’t friends. Back in university, Kei had adopted Jo because Kei collected underclassmen the way that Fuma collected Pokémon figurines. Jo was probably perfect to Kei, because Kei thought all of his underclassmen were perfect, but nobody else really understood Jo, this kid who was gorgeous and quiet and always had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was daydreaming somewhere that nobody else could ever reach.
They all figured it out. Nicholas was an ace with people in general, so it took maybe a week for Jo to warm up to him (a record, with Nicholas). Taki was a weird guy himself, so even though Jo was a different brand of weird, Taki could somewhat relate to him. Harua treated Jo with the same unflinching courtesy and kindness that he treated anyone else, until one day they were really, truly friends.
They all figured it out, except Yuma.
Jo was so sincere, all the time. He always said exactly what he meant. Yuma didn’t understand how anybody could live like that. They were in the same friend circle, but they weren’t friends.
But Jo’s sincerity had saved him, where Yuma had fallen. In Yuma’s sophomore year of university, Euijoo had come out as gay, and on top of that had gotten a boyfriend (Hanbin, jeez, what an era that was) and Nicholas had been a fucking mess, going to parties every night and flirting with all his friends. A wildfire, burning out of control.
“You can’t kiss me,” Jo had told Nicholas, firm. “You don’t mean it.”
So. That’s the first thought that pops into Yuma’s head, when Nicholas asks. Jo, and that rejection. In hindsight, a lot of other thoughts should have come first. Like, how Jo has no idea about this. Or, how Jo is a terrible actor. Or, how Yuma and Jo aren’t even friends, how would they date?
But Yuma never knows when to back down from a fight.
---
He texts Jo. The last time that they messaged, it had been one year ago. Oh, you’re moving here as well? Yuma had texted. Jo had texted yes, with a thumbs up.
Now Yuma winces his way through another text. Hey, do you have time to meet for a coffee? he sends. It’s about Kei and Fuma’s wedding.
Jo sends back a list of times he’s available to meet. Now, on Saturday, Yuma is at this chic new cafe, fidgeting with his sleeves. The bell jingles, and Jo enters, giving Yuma a little wave.
For the record— and Yuma is just making an objective observation— Jo has not gotten any less gorgeous since college.
“Hi,” he says. Still soft-spoken, too. “You weren’t waiting too long, right?”
Jo is right on time. Yuma was just early. “No, of course not,” Yuma says.
They order, both of them getting a green tea. Yuma offers to pay, but Jo shakes his head, and Yuma doesn’t push it. “So,” Jo says, taking a seat. “What… did you want to meet about? Is there a problem with the wedding?”
“No,” Yuma says. “You know Harua’s involved, nothing can go wrong with him there.”
“Oh, okay,” Jo says. He drinks a bit of his tea. “What’s it about, then?”
“I just,” Yuma starts. Internally, he’s screaming in pain. “Do you have a plus one to the wedding?”
“Um, no.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Um,” Jo looks increasingly confused. “Also… no.”
“Okay, well,” Yuma says. “I told Nicholas that you’re my plus one to the wedding. Because we’re dating.”
Jo chokes on his tea. There’s a moment where Jo’s got his hand over his mouth, and Yuma stares at his tea in the hopes of drowning in it. Once Jo’s coughing has subsided, he asks, “Why? We aren’t dating.”
It’s funny, how his voice is a little unsure, like Jo thinks there might be a 10% chance that they are, in fact dating, and he was just unaware of it until now.
“On Wednesday, Nicholas was asking me if I had a plus one to the wedding,” Yuma says. “And well— you know that Nicholas and I used to date.”
“Yes,” Jo says. His face doesn’t betray anything. “I remember that.”
“It was really— I couldn’t tell him I was single,” Yuma says. The words feel like ash on his tongue but Yuma will admit them to anyone but Nicholas himself. “So I said your name.”
“Um,” Jo says carefully. “Why me?”
Actually, Yuma is pretty sure that he picked literally the worst person for this. Jo had rejected Nicholas, when Nicholas was irresistible; why wouldn’t he reject Yuma, too? “We’re in the same city,” Yuma exhales. “And I wasn’t… really thinking, at the moment.”
“So,” Jo says, confused. “Are you asking me to date you?”
Good god. “No,” Yuma says. “I’m asking you to pretend to date me.”
“I’m not great at pretending,” Jo says. He bites his lip, fidgeting with his sleeves. “Is it just Nicholas you want us to pretend to? Or is it Fuma and Kei and everyone else?”
“It’s mostly just Nicholas,” Yuma says, wincing. It all sounds so bad coming from Jo’s sweet, earnest mouth.
“But Nicholas is my friend,” Jo says. “I don’t want to lie to him.”
Yeah. Of course. What was Yuma expecting. Nicholas is the first one that Jo befriended, and Yuma is— he’s not even the last, it just never happened. Jo doesn’t owe him anything. This entire thing is stupid, he’s going to text Nicholas that this was all a joke, just to see if Yuma could convince him. And you were fooled! Haha. Yuma likes being funny, but sometimes he can push too hard, and then he isn’t funny anymore. Then he’s an asshole.
“Okay,” Yuma says. “Thanks for meeting me here, still. I really appreciate it.”
“But um,” Jo says. “I wouldn’t mind… going to the wedding with you. Not as your date, but…”
Yuma raises an eyebrow. How do you go with someone to a wedding, if not as a date?
“Ever since we started work here, I kind of wanted to ask you to hang out, but I didn’t know how,” Jo says. “I was really happy when you asked me for coffee. I always thought you were really cool, in university.”
“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I am absolutely not cool,” Yuma says, spreading his hands. Jo’s words catch Yuma off guard, but they make his chest feel warm. “I mean, just listen to this ridiculous plan.”
Jo smiles, and Yuma remembers— Jo has this really nice smile, but the most memorable thing about it is how indecisive it is. Right now it’s about three parts sweet, seven parts awkward.
“I mean, it’s pretty creative,” Jo says. “I remember you and Taki would always make up these routines, and they were really funny.”
“Thanks,” Yuma says.
“I guess, fake dating would just be a routine with you, too, right?” Jo says, and holy shit, does Jo Asakura get it? Does Jo Asakura understand improv? “Like, we would break up right after?”
“Cross my heart, we would break up right after,” Yuma says. “It would be a very insignificant relationship where somehow I managed to convince the hottest guy I’ve ever met to date me for a little bit, and then we decided we worked better as friends.”
“I’m… ”
“Oh come on, you know what you look like,” Yuma says. He prays he isn’t blushing; even if Jo looks like that, it doesn’t change the fact that their personalities are totally incompatible.
Jo’s smile is now five parts awkward, five parts pleased. Yuma will take it.
“I’m still not sure,” Jo says, which is fair.
“The friends part, we can make it real,” Yuma blurts out. “No matter what happens, if you decide you want to do the fake dating routine, or not. We can try to be friends.”
Somehow, that’s the most embarrassing thing to say. Yuma is an asshole, for real. He only asked Jo for coffee when he had a request for him, when Jo wanted to reach out to him just to be friends. And honestly, Yuma thinks— when you’re in your twenties, friendship is more of a rarity than romance. Yeah, you can hit someone up on Hinge, or go to the club to find somebody to sleep with, but to just… find somebody to talk to? It’s difficult.
“I’d like that,” Jo says.
“I’ll tell Harua to put you as my plus one,” Yuma says. “Whether you want to go as my fake boyfriend or my real friend, you get to decide.”
“Okay.”
And that’s that.
---
Yuma texts Taki about it, back at his apartment. He feels like this ordeal has taken a decade off of his life, and he needs somebody to joke about it with. you didn’t ask ME to be your fake boyfriend? Taki texts back, outraged.
nicholas would never believe that , Yuma sends back. Yes, Taki would have come with Yuma as his fake boyfriend. He would have made out with Yuma on the dance floor, and then they probably would have sex in the hotel room later to top it off. But the problem is, when everything between the two of you is a joke, there is no convincing anyone that you’re in a serious relationship.
Taki is someone that Yuma likes to laugh with, and Yuma never wants to lose that.
STILL! Taki sends back. it would have been so funny.
you’re kei’s best man, Yuma sends back. save your energy for that.
Taki doesn’t really talk about his best man duties with Yuma, but Yuma’s heard that Harua’s been collaborating with Taki on the logistics. I like his ideas, they’re really creative, Harua has texted Yuma. Occasionally really illegal as well.
Yuma knows a few things for certain: one, Harua is not getting paid enough for this; two, Kei’s bachelor party is going to be one for the history books; and three, Taki’s speech as best man is going to bring any late-night skit with millions of views to shame. Taki’s a MC on their hometown’s radio station, and his time slot has gotten a lot more listeners since he joined.
i can’t believe you asked JO ASAKURA, Taki writes. remember my film elective?
Ah yes. How could Yuma forget.
Back in university, Taki had taken a class where the final project was a self-directed short film. Taki’s original concept was a coming-of-age with traditional high school roles, and Yuma, Maki, Harua, and Jo all featured in it.
Originally, Taki had recruited Jo to play the school delinquent. Everyone remembers it because Jo showed up in this outfit, black cardigan and fitted black jeans and black sneakers, and he looked so good it was unreal. Taki stared at Jo for a whole minute when his usual attention span was five seconds. Maki did a double take at Jo when he usually only ever looked at Harua. And Yuma— well. Look, Jo is attractive, okay? Yuma’s only human.
Fortunately, everybody snapped out of it pretty fast, because Jo was a bad actor.
When Yuma think about it, it wasn’t because Jo was camera shy. It was because it was almost impossible for Jo to get in character. And when he did, he broke it in an instant, either by laughing or apologizing. It wasn’t on purpose, either. Jo looked so frustrated with himself, trying to help Taki with his project, and eventually Taki said, “Jo, it’s fine. I think the script was really cheesy to begin with. I’m going to rewrite it.”
The rewrite was a lot better, actually. Taki stopped trying to make it deep, instead leaning into the humorous aspect of it. He put Jo in that outfit again, and the running joke was that everybody misunderstood Jo as a delinquent when in reality he was the sweetest guy on earth. Jo did fine, that time. Of course he did, since he just had to play himself. And honestly, that’s Jo Asakura in a nutshell.
He can’t be anybody except himself.
i remember that outfit, Yuma sends to Taki now.
can you tell him to wear it to the wedding, Taki sends back. it’s the uhh dress code.
he’s MY fake boyfriend, Yuma almost texts, before he remembers that Jo hasn’t said yes. He deletes it and instead writes, we all know that Jo is going to look good no matter what he wears.
so true.
(In Taki’s rewrite, Yuma, Harua, and Maki played a trio of friends going into their junior year of high school. Jo was the new kid who had just transferred in, and everyone was talking about him, how he pulled up to school on a motorcycle dressed in all black.
Harua developed a crush on Jo, his bad boy image. Yuma was irritated, because he couldn’t see what the fuss was all about. Maki was irritated, because he liked Harua. Eventually Harua befriended Jo and figured out that Jo was just a shy artist who happened to like riding motorcycles, and stopped having a crush on him.
In the last scene, Jo became their friend, Harua possibly returned Maki’s feelings, and Yuma started liking Jo instead.
The short film got full marks.)
Yuma also texts Harua, because he has to tell Harua to seat him next to Jo at the reception. Unlike with Taki, Yuma does not provide any explanation, because Harua (like Jo) is painfully sincere and would definitely not approve of his stunt.
OMG , Harua says. ARE YOU GUYS…?
Yuma winces. He texts Harua that they are going to the wedding together and does not elaborate. You have to tell me all about this! Harua texts back, and normally Yuma loves getting the last word but when he sends back an okay emoji it feels like he’s lost.
—-
Because Yuma and Jo are going to try to be friends, they meet up at a sushi restaurant on Friday next week.
They sit across from each other, and Jo flashes him his indecisive little smile, and it is… incredibly awkward. Like, if this were a Hinge date, Yuma would be making up an imaginary emergency right now. His best friend fell down the stairs and needs to go to the ER. His apartment is on fire and he needs to save his pet cat. (He doesn’t have a pet cat yet, but he really wants one.)
Yuma’s throwing out every icebreaker question he can think of, but none of Jo’s answers have sparked follow-up conversation. So far he knows that Jo is a graphic designer, that he also lives alone, and that his favorite color is light blue.
After Yuma reaches the favorite color question, he gives up.
“I told Harua that we were going as each other’s plus-ones,” he finally says, getting to business. “So at the reception we’ll be seated together.” At this point, I will be amazed if you act like you can stand to be in the same room with me.
“Oh, yes, Harua is the wedding planner, right?” Jo says.
Yuma nods. “He’s the best.”
“I’ve seen some of the pictures of the weddings he’s done,” Jo says. “They’re really nice. Harua’s really good at them.”
“Have you seen Harua since you graduated?” Yuma asks.
“Only once,” Jo says. “I miss him.”
“I’ve only seen him a few times,” Yuma says, twisting his mouth. “Since I’m a new employee I don’t really have days off, and I spend most of my weekends running errands so I can’t make the drive home.”
“I understand that,” Jo says. He smiles, six parts hesitant and four parts wry. “I’m always really grateful when I have a three-day weekend.”
Yuma points his chopsticks at Jo. “Right? Right?” he says. “I know all these obscure holidays now that I never used to, because they give me a day off from work.”
“I also have a lot of trouble getting home,” Jo says. “Because I don’t have a car. So when I last saw Harua, he came down here.”
“Oh, wow,” Yuma says. He knows when Harua last visited, because Harua had visited Yuma as well. That’s pretty funny, that Harua had visited Yuma and Jo separately; no wonder Harua is so excited at the prospect of them getting along. Anyway, Yuma had shown Harua his apartment, along with his usual haunts in the city, and— “Did Harua also say that you walked faster, as well?”
Jo’s eyes light up. “Yes,” he says. “He said that I walked faster now that I moved here!”
“Seriously?” Yuma says. He imagines Harua struggling to keep up with Jo’s stride and smothers a laugh. “I guess we’ve both had to adjust. I feel like everything is so fast, and I always have somewhere to be. So I walk faster.”
“Hmm, that’s probably it.”
Jo seems more relaxed now that Harua’s involved in the conversation. Yuma thinks that’s fitting, that Harua’s still smoothing tensions over even though he isn’t here. Harua is so powerful, for real. “I try to call Harua when I can,” Yuma says, fussing. “He’s really busy with work, so he never eats proper meals. I bet his bloodstream is just potato chips and ramen at this point — what?”
Jo’s got this amused expression on his face. “I didn’t realize that you worried so much about your friends,” he says.
“Oh,” Yuma says, awkwardly. “Um…”
Yuma doesn’t know how to explain this. He likes taking care of people, but he doesn’t know how to go about it in a gentle way. Back in university he would barge into Harua’s apartment and make him dinner, or headlock Taki in place and wrap a scarf around his neck. Back when they were dating, he remembers Nicholas smiling at him and saying, you love people so much it makes you angry .
Nicholas had known him so well, and it hadn’t been enough. Yuma shakes his head to clear the thought. Jo’s waiting for a response, listening patiently, and Yuma blurts out, “I want a cat.”
“Oh?” Jo says.
“Yeah,” Yuma says. “I’m okay living by myself, but I think it would be nice to have a pet. And I really like cats. But my apartment doesn’t allow them.”
Jo smiles. “I like cats, too. I have one back home.”
The rest of dinner isn’t all that bad. There’s still some halting silences where Yuma has to cast around for a new conversational topic, but Yuma can work with that. It turns out that Jo is someone who prefers listening, so Yuma rambles a bit, about train rides and meal prep and other things that he doesn’t mind sharing. And, when Jo bashfully admits that he hasn’t quite figured out how to take care of dinners yet and eats a lot of takeout, Yuma immediately says, “What the fuck, I’m making you dinner. Next week.”
“Wait,” Jo says. “I didn’t say that to— I don’t want to impose.”
“No, no, I like cooking,” Yuma says, waving a hand. “What do you like to eat? Come on, tell me.”
“Um. Anything with white rice,” Jo says. His ears are red.
“Does curry work?” Yuma says, and Jo nods.
Yuma gives Jo the address to his apartment, and they agree to meet next week. When Yuma gets back, he flops on the couch, tired, but not as tired as he thought he would be. He feels like maybe they’re getting somewhere. Another month, and maybe Jo will actually laugh at one of his jokes.
Imagine that.
---
Next week, for Thursday, Yuma slices onions, carrots, potatoes, humming to himself.
He does like cooking. But cooking for multiple people is always more fun than cooking for one— he gets to use more ingredients, and it’s a little less monotonous. Jo texts him when he gets here, and Yuma takes the elevator down to meet him. They take the elevator back up, and Yuma looks at Jo’s expression and smirks.
“Yeah, this elevator is really questionable,” Yuma says. “Just don’t jump and you’ll be fine.”
Jo makes a face at him. Yuma wonders if Jo is even capable of glaring at anyone, or if that expression is just not in his inventory.
They enter Yuma’s apartment. “Your place is really nice,” Jo says.
“Thanks,” Yuma says. It’s small but functional, and he does his best to keep it neat. The floor plan is open except for the bathroom and laundry.
It’s hard to tour around a studio apartment when everything is connected, but Yuma does his best. Jo looks at everything politely, and comments, “Oh, nice, you have in-unit laundry!” Yuma smiles at that, because he pays extra rent for that and he considers it one of the best investments he’s ever made. After they’ve completed their little circle, they wind up in the kitchen-slash-dining-space.
Yuma grabs plates, spoons on the rice and curry, and hands Jo a plate. “Do you want anything to drink?” Yuma says. “I have water, tea, and— well, I don’t think you want beer.”
“Just water is fine,” Jo says. “Um, do you want something to drink, as well?”
Yuma can’t help it; he laughs. “Are you going to get it for me?” he says. “In my own apartment?”
“I feel bad,” Jo says, laughing a little as well. “You’re doing everything.”
“Yeah, because I’m hosting,” Yuma says. He gets two glasses and fills them with water, and then he and Jo sit at his dining table. It’s pretty nice; the dining table seats four, and it’s nice to have someone eating opposite him for once.
Jo takes a bite of the rice, and then his eyes widen. “This rice is really good.”
“Thanks?” Yuma says, confused. It’s just white rice that he put in a rice cooker.
“No, um, a lot of rice I make can be too watery or too soft, but yours is really good. Like restaurant rice,” Jo says.
Yuma tries not to laugh. Apparently Jo Asakura is a rice connoisseur. “Try the curry,” he demands.
Jo gives him a lot of compliments on the food, probably more than Yuma actually deserves, but he can’t deny that the compliments are nice. They talk a little, Yuma telling Jo about how Taki had examined his apartment so thoroughly when he came over that Yuma asked Taki if he was doing an inspection, but mostly they just eat. When Yuma tells Jo to get seconds if he wants, Jo doesn’t hesitate to rise and spoon more curry and rice onto his plate.
“Wait, I’ll do the dishes—” Yuma tries, when Jo goes to the sink and starts scrubbing, but Jo has this really stubborn expression on his face. “Yeah, sure, you can wash your plate.”
Jo washes his plate, puts it in the dishwasher.
“Hey,” he says. “I just wanted to ask something about your, um, fake dating request.”
“Yeah?” Yuma says. Honestly, now that it’s been two weeks since the phone call with Nicholas, Yuma’s thought a lot less about it. Maybe Jo will agree, probably he won’t. In any case telling Nicholas it was a prank doesn’t seem so terrible, because that’s something Yuma would totally do, and also, hey, Jo is now his friend. Or at least they are two people who can tolerate each other’s companies enough to finish a meal together. And go to a wedding together. That’s progress.
“First of all, would we be able to tell other people that it’s fake?”
Yuma shrugs. “Anyone that you don’t want to pretend to,” he says. “Except Nicholas, I guess. And by extension Euijoo.”
“What even happened with Nicholas, that you—” Jo sees Yuma’s expression and shakes his head. “Never mind.”
Yuma swallows. He doesn’t really like talking about what happened with Nicholas. He doesn’t like thinking about it, either. Yuma’s good at telling a joke, good at laughing things off, and it was really terrifying to him when he and Nicholas broke up and Yuma found himself unable to make it funny. He tried turning it into a bit once, when he was with Taki, and felt his throat close up when he saw Taki looking at him with nothing but sympathy in his eyes.
“Uh, second of all,” Jo continues, “how would we pretend… to be… boyfriends? I told you, I’m bad at lying.”
“Well, I’m good at lying, so I’d do most of it,” Yuma says. “Maybe I’d tell people that one day, I saw your contact and hit you up out of the blue, because I always thought that you were attractive back in university. And then we went on a couple of dates, and I ended up really falling for you, and you ended up returning my feelings. All you would have to do is look at me like you like me.”
Jo frowns.
“Yeah, that might be too hard for you,” Yuma concedes.
“No, Yuma, I do like you,” Jo says immediately.
Yuma can’t help it, he starts laughing. Jo sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking at his hands. “I still don’t really know if I can do that.”
“I told you, whatever you decide, I’m fine with,” Yuma says.
Honestly, Jo’s given Yuma way more of a chance than he deserves, considering how Yuma had contacted him. The most Yuma can do is also try.
“Well, thank you for the dinner,” Jo says earnestly. “Next week, I’ll return the favor.”
Yuma smiles. “I look forward to it.”
---
Jo’s apartment building looks a lot like Yuma’s, gray and nondescript. Yuma stands at the entrance with his hands in his pockets, and Jo buzzes him in.
“Ooh,” Yuma says, when Jo lets him into his unit. “A 1-bedroom.”
“Your studio is great, it has a laundry room,” Jo says. “I have to go all the way downstairs.”
Jo’s made yakisoba, and Yuma concedes that it really is awkward to be hosted. He now understands why Jo was so insistent on washing his own plate.
Jo doesn’t have a dining table; instead, his kitchen counter has built-in seating. Yuma takes a seat on a wooden stool next to Jo and sticks the noodles into his mouth. “This is good,” he says.
“Thanks,” Jo says. “I know how to make this and fried rice. And some egg stuff.”
“The curry I made was pretty simple,” Yuma says. “I can give you the recipe sometime.”
“Thanks,” Jo says quietly.
Yuma eats the yakisoba and looks at Jo’s living room, where there’s a few manga stacked on top of the coffee table, along with a bunch of bananas. There are paintings up on the walls, meadows and sunsets, and Yuma remembers that Jo’s an artist. “Did you paint those?” Yuma asks. “They’re really pretty.”
“I did,” Jo says. “Thank you.”
After dinner Jo asks him if he wants to watch something— a movie might be too long, but an episode of a show could work— and Yuma asks Jo if he likes anime. When Jo says yes, Yuma claps his hands together, and says, “Nice. What genre do you like to watch?”
“Um…” Jo says.
“Actually, can I guess?”
Jo makes a gesture like, go ahead.
Yuma taps his chin. “I think you like quiet, slice-of-life stuff,” he decides. “Bonus points if there’s romance or magical realism involved.”
“I see,” Jo says. “Am I that predictable?”
Yuma smirks. “You’re kind of a textbook hopeless romantic,” he says. “I bet you really like weddings.”
“Actually, no.”
“Eh? Really?”
“I don’t think the wedding is important,” Jo says. “It’s the love that counts.”
“Jeez,” Yuma says, taken aback. Jo is a hopeless romantic, on a level that Yuma can’t even comprehend. “Have you ever been in love?”
“I think I’ve felt it before, yeah,” Jo says. “You?”
“I think so, too,” Yuma says. He thinks about all of his exes, how at the time he was so certain he was in love, and then afterward he tried to tell himself, no, it wasn’t the real thing. But really, it was. His love was as real as the anger that followed. “Have you— I don’t know, have you dated anyone ever since you moved here?”
Jo purses his lips. “No.”
“Really? What about hookups?” Yuma says, before seeing the uncomfortable expression on Jo’s face. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Yuma bets that the answer is no, because he’s gone through the process of finding hookups and good god, it is exhausting. Go to a club, find a stranger, take them home, and after all that wake up unsatisfied in the morning anyway. But, who is Yuma to decide what Jo likes. Maybe Jo likes that kind of thing— maybe he has this secret alter ego that really likes partying. That would be hilarious.
“I’ve been on a couple of dates,” Yuma tells Jo. “Like, I think I’ve tried every dating app there is. But it gets boring. Also I kept Hinge in the same folder as I kept Candy Crush, so that probably says something about me.”
“Well, whenever you decide that you want to date seriously, I’m sure anybody would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend,” Jo says. “And also, we should add each other on Candy Crush.”
Yuma wheezes.
They end up watching the first episode of Blue Spring Ride on the TV mounted to Jo’s living room wall, lights dimmed. It’s a rewatch for both of them, but Yuma hasn’t seen this show in a while, so it feels new. Jo’s quiet next to him, knees pulled up to his chest. His limbs are really long.
Yuma thinks about love. Fuma and Kei, Nicholas and Euijoo. He thinks about how sometimes he feels like all the good love stories have been sold out, and what’s left on the shelf for him are cheap, plastic knockoffs. But right now he feels warm, and when he looks over, Jo catches his eye and gives him a smile, seven parts joyful and three parts tired.
When Yuma goes back to his apartment he texts Jo, i forgot how good blue spring ride was.
it’s my favorite anime, Jo sends back. i’m glad you like it.
are you going to watch more of it tonight? Yuma sends.
no i’m going to draw. i’ll watch ep 2 with you next time we meet.
!! what are you going to draw?
it’s a little embarrassing … i’ll tell you about it later, sometime.
okay. i’ll let you draw, then.
Jo sends him a thumbs up, and Yuma thinks that it’s going to be end of it, but then Jo adds hey tonight was fun! and Yuma responds to that, and the goodbye stretches like a strand of gooey marshmallow over a campfire. When Yuma finally sets down his phone, he finds that he’s smiling.
---
Harua’s been MIA this past month because of work, but he calls Yuma on Saturday afternoon, right when Yuma’s doing laundry.
“Hello?” Yuma says, dropping another armful of clothes into the washer.
“Hi,” Harua says wearily. “Can you tell Taki that we’re not doing pyrotechnics at the wedding? Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
“That sounds kind of fun, though,” Yuma says.
“It is less than a month away and everything is over budget as is,” Harua says severely, and Yuma rolls his eyes and texts Taki hey no pyrotechnics!
did harua put you up to this, Taki responds. but fine. Sad emoji, sad emoji.
Yuma lets Harua talk about wedding logistics for another twenty minutes, from the wedding favors to the seating arrangements. “And speaking of seating arrangements,” Harua says. “I did put you next to Jo. Now, explain to me, what is that about?”
“Oh,” Yuma says.
Yuma thinks about Jo saying would we be able to tell other people that it’s fake? and winces. He can’t tell Harua about any of this— Harua’s stressed enough as is, and also he would not approve of Yuma’s scheme at all. Unfortunately, Harua’s love for gossip is on par with his love for convenience store potato chips, which means that Yuma isn’t getting out of this without giving Harua something.
“We’ve been hanging out,” Yuma says carefully. “It’s new.”
Harua hums. “You thought he was hot, back in university.”
“I mean, I have eyes,” Yuma defends. “We all thought that.”
“Yeah, but it seemed personal, with you.”
Was it personal? Maybe it was. Yuma always thought it wasn’t fair; Jo was attractive enough that he could get away with anything. He could be shy and soft and sincere, and the world still couldn’t hurt him. Meanwhile, Yuma had always fought to be looked at, his voice sharp and his humor brutal, and the worst part was that it was all offense and no defense. There was nothing to cushion his fall when he got too reckless.
“I suppose,” Yuma allows.
“I’m so happy about this development,” Harua says. “You know, Jo is so nice. He’d never hurt anyone, ever.”
Even a month ago, Yuma would have thought that nice meant boring, that never hurting anyone was a weakness. But he’s meeting up with Jo next week, and when Yuma taps on their message thread, they’ve talked enough that there’s a little scroll bar on the side of the screen. It makes Yuma happy, and he thinks that maybe he’s been wrong about a lot of things.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Yuma says.
“Okay,” Harua says, “but I think he’ll be good for you.”
Yuma’s face burns, wondering what kind of conclusions Harua is drawing. Whatever, Yuma has ammunition of his own. “Are you going to the wedding with Maki?”
“I’m the wedding planner. I don’t have a plus one,” Harua says swiftly.
The don’t put this on me goes unsaid. Yuma smiles. Harua is someone who likes boundaries, so no mixing work with romance, and no mixing friendship with romance. Maki’s been trying to get Harua to break the second rule for the past several years. Yuma’s rooting for him.
Yuma talks to Harua for another thirty minutes, until it’s time to transfer his laundry to the dryer. When Harua hangs up, saying that he’ll see Yuma at the wedding, Yuma says goodbye with this funny feeling in his chest.
If Yuma worries about Harua’s eating habits, then Harua worries about Yuma’s love life.
Harua is probably the only one who really knows the full extent of how shattered Yuma was by the break-up. Harua liked Nicholas at one point, too, but unlike Yuma, Harua was professional about it. Harua didn’t go after the things that he couldn’t have. He had that much sense.
Anyway, when Nicholas and Yuma broke up, and Nicholas and Euijoo got together, Yuma was trying his best not to let anybody know how much pain he was in. He was trying to stay friends with Nicholas and trying not to resent Euijoo, telling joke after joke like shooting basket after basket and having nothing actually go through the hoop.
Around Harua, Yuma stopped trying to laugh, and let the tears fall.
Yuma’s grateful to Harua for that. Without him, Yuma would have gone insane. But sometimes, Yuma wishes that he hadn’t shown Harua that side of him, because now Harua knows him. Yuma might be able to convince everybody else that he’s a cynic — he might even be able to convince himself— but Harua will never believe him. When Yuma tells Harua about his Tinder dates or his club hookups, there’s always this telling silence from Harua’s end. Well. If Harua ever gets tired of wedding planning, he would make a really good shrink.
If not for the possibility of Jo going as his fake boyfriend at the wedding, Yuma would have told Harua, Don’t get the wrong idea! We’re just friends. But the whole point, of course, is to let Harua have the wrong idea. To let Harua think that maybe, Yuma likes Jo.
And wow, there’s a crazy thought. Liking sweet, harmless, hopeless romantic Jo. Maybe Yuma needs to see a shrink for real, because— why doesn’t that sound bad at all?
---
At this point, Yuma and Jo have an unspoken agreement to meet once a week, and Yuma hopes that the pattern will keep up after the wedding. Jo’s over at Yuma’s place again this week, and Yuma makes rice with a side of zucchini and grilled chicken that Jo takes a second helping of. Yuma tells Jo some stories about his coworkers, how Yuma times his trips to the break room in the hopes of not running into anyone and getting roped into thirty minutes of small talk.
“You know,” Jo comments. “Back in university, I thought you were an extrovert.”
“Oh?” Yuma says. “It’s okay, a lot of people thought that. I’m really loud. But no— I’m definitely an introvert.”
“Me too,” Jo says.
“Really? I had no idea,” Yuma says, which makes Jo smile, six parts amused and four parts embarrassed.
“I like that we meet once a week,” Jo says. “It’s like… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not too much. You know?”
“Yeah,” Yuma says. “I understand.”
It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. It’s hard to explain to extroverts how being an introvert works, telling someone it isn’t you, it’s just that I get tired after I spend too much time around other people . Even though Yuma is loud, he likes his solitude, and when he talks too much he ends up exhausted at the end of the day.
Even his closest friends— Taki, Harua, Nicholas— don’t really understand that.
“Do you ever miss university?” Yuma asks. “It was annoying sometimes, that I could never be alone, but it was also nice having all of my friends in one place.”
“Yeah,” Jo says. “You’re right, it was annoying sometimes and nice sometimes. When I met Kei, and when I met all of you guys, it was interesting. I thought I was fine being by myself, but…”
“Yeah?”
“I was really lonely,” Jo says. His ears are red. “And moving here, I like that I get to be alone so much, but it’s lonely, too.”
Maybe it’s reasonable that extroverts don’t understand introverts, actually. At times Yuma doesn’t understand himself. He feels like he’s caught in a paradox, where time alone is a blessing but loneliness is a curse. And that loneliness creeps up when he least expects it, like when he’s at the office going to yet another meeting that could have been an email, or when he’s at the club scanning a room of shadowy faces for someone to take home for the night. When he’s not alone at all.
“But I’m not that lonely, anymore,” Jo says.
“Oh?” Yuma says. “Why not?”
Jo gestures to him. Yuma feels something inside of him combust. “Cool,” Yuma says, struggling to sound normal through the mini fireworks display in his chest. “Um, here, I’ll pull up Blue Spring Ride.”
They watch another episode, and then Jo says apologetically, “I have to go home.”
“Are you going to draw?” Yuma says.
“Yes,” Jo says. His ears are still red, and Yuma wonders if they were like that for the entirety of the show. “I draw every night.”
“Whoa, really?” Yuma says, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice. “That’s awesome.”
“I’ll show you, next time,” Jo says. “What I’m drawing.”
“Eh? Seriously?” Yuma says, excited. Jo nods, and Yuma thrusts out his hand, pinky extended. “Promise?”
Jo takes a look at Yuma, and Yuma feels embarrassed by his childish, enthusiastic gesture, but then Jo links their pinkies together. His skin is warm, and Yuma thinks it would be really fun to hold his hand. Jo’s hands are large, his fingers are long and slender, fitting for an artist.
“Promise,” Jo says, and Yuma snaps out of his thoughts.
Jo leaves his apartment, and Yuma thinks about what Jo said. About being less lonely together. Yuma would never say stuff like that out loud, but it was nice to hear it from Jo. Maybe Yuma should say stuff like that out loud. Maybe he could make it work, the way that Jo makes it work. Maybe it would make those around him happy.
---
Next week, Jo stalls through a dinner of store-bought onigiri and episode 3 of Blue Spring Ride before Yuma smirks and says, “Hey, Jo, you said you were going to show me your drawings tonight.”
“I thought you might have forgotten about that,” Jo sighs.
“Absolutely not,” Yuma says.
Jo gets off the couch and disappears into his room, and reappears with a sheaf of papers.
“I’m working on a comic,” Jo says. Somehow, he looks the shyest that Yuma has ever seen him, and that’s saying a lot. The blush on his ears is rapidly crawling up his cheeks as well. “It’s about a J-pop group trying to make it big… I don’t know how to explain it, maybe it’ll make more sense if I show it to you.”
Jo hands him the papers. On the top page, written in big block letters, Jo has written the title AMPERSAND .
The next few pages are dedicated to character profiles, nine in all. Keiji. Fuyu. EJ. Nathan. Yuki. Juro. Haruo. Taichi. Mahiro. Jo’s sketched everyone in pencil, with bullet point characteristics next to each picture, and his drawing style is so nice that it steals Yuma’s breath away.
After that is the first chapter. EJ steps onto the stage, illuminated by a spotlight. I want to debut. EJ explains that, he, Keiji, Nathan, and Taichi were trainees who had been on a famous Korean survival show, broadcasted all over the world, but had failed to make it into the final lineup. Now, they were being given a second chance to debut in Japan.
The four of us, we’ll make it together, EJ says. Welcome to &Audition!
Yuma stares at the page for a long time, trying to figure out what to say. He doesn’t know if he can truly express how much he admires Jo right now; Yuma wants to compliment him, but he’s afraid that the words will come out wrong. Now is not the time for one of his usual jokes. Jo’s poured so much time and thought into this, and Yuma doesn’t want to disrespect that.
“This is amazing. Both your story and art are beautiful,” Yuma tells Jo. “I want to read more.”
“Thank you,” Jo murmurs. “I have about ten chapters right now… I try to do at least a page every night.”
“Are you going to try and publish it?” Yuma says. “If you do, I’ll buy a copy. Ten copies, actually. And I’m going to make you sign all of them.”
Jo laughs. “Maybe,” he says. “I’m just making this because it makes me happy, but maybe I’ll publish it on the web, so that people can read it if they want.”
“Yes, post it up,” Yuma says. “People do want to read it. I would know. I’m people.”
Jo smiles, five parts happy and five parts shy. Yuma flips through the sheaf of papers again, admiring Jo’s art. He lands on the page with Nakamura Yuki, the main vocalist. His smile is lopsided, more of a smirk than anything, and a snaggletooth peeks out of his upper lip. Yuma likes this guy immediately.
Eventually, Yuma hands Jo back his drawings. Now is probably the time where Yuma should get going, but he wants to stay a little longer.
“You’re a graphic designer, right?” Yuma says, and Jo nods. “Do you like doing that?”
“Hmm, I think I do,” Jo says. “Sometimes, it doesn’t leave a lot of room to draw the things that I actually want to draw, but I’m lucky, that I have a stable job that’s related to art in some way. When I studied art in university, a lot of people told me that it was impractical.”
Yuma’s pretty sure that’s the most Jo’s ever said in one go. He makes a note to himself— Jo will talk, if it’s about art. “I used to want to be a songwriter,” Yuma blurts out.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jo says, unexpectedly. “You wrote songs for people’s birthdays. They were really fun.”
Yuma is surprised that Jo remembers that. But Yuma supposes that his birthday songs were pretty memorable. Sometimes he would take a song from the radio and change up the lyrics (for Taki’s birthday, he rewrote Taki Taki by DJ Snake); other times, he would come up with something completely original (for Harua’s birthday, he wrote a rap about potato chips).
“I wanted to study music in university,” Yuma says. “But I thought it would be childish. So I chose Business.”
“Hmm,” Jo says. “Do you know the book, The Little Prince?”
“No. Why?”
“In the book, the Little Prince makes this drawing,” Jo says. He grabs a pen off the coffee table, along with a little stack of post-it notes, and draws for Yuma what looks like a fedora. “And then he says, it’s a drawing of a boa constrictor swallowing an elephant. Adults will think that it’s a hat, but children will see it for what it is.”
“It looks like a hat,” Yuma says dryly.
“Yeah, it does look like a hat, but the other explanation is more fun,” Jo says. “And I decided that I always wanted to see things that other way.”
Yuma admits, “I don’t quite understand.”
“Even if you work as an accountant, I’ll see you as a songwriter,” Jo says, his voice soft and awkward and confident all at once.
“When’s your birthday?” Yuma asks.
“July 8th,” Jo says. “Are you going to write me a song?”
“Not telling. Also, my birthday is February 7th.”
When Yuma gets home, he pulls up his laptop. He goes through his folders, clicks through their nested structure until he lands on his archived compositions. It’s a little messy inside the folder, snippets of lyrics and melodies, but it’s messy with the promise of potential. It’s been hard to find the energy to compose these days, but he wants to start up again.
---
Now that Yuma knows Jo better he can think of things other than dinner that they can do. Maybe Yuma will take him to a bookstore. Or an art museum, Jo would probably really like that, and he could explain the paintings to Yuma. Or they could find a theater doing a day of Studio Ghibli showings, that would be a good time.
Over the weekend, Yuma opens the notes app on his phone and makes a checklist. Stuff he and Jo could do to make this city theirs.
Halfway through, something inside of him snaps. What is he doing? Yuma closes out of his notes app and grabs his bag, taking the bus to the nearest gym. He gets on a treadmill and starts running. His chest burns with a familiar anger, and he cranks up the speed, until the burning in his chest is eclipsed by the burning in his legs.
The truth is that he never fully healed. An hour later, when he pushes the off button and stands there, trying to catch his breath, he can still feel it. The sharp, jagged edges of his heart digging into his ribcage. He closes his eyes, sweat trickling down his temples, and he thinks about how pointless this all is.
Nicholas doesn’t care who Yuma comes to the wedding with. He doesn’t care if Yuma goes alone or with Jo. Hell, Yuma could come with J-Hope of BTS, and Nicholas wouldn’t care (although he might ask for J-Hope’s signature.) It doesn’t matter because Nicholas has Euijoo now, and Yuma has always just been collateral.
Yuma hates this kind of thinking. He hates feeling like a victim, hates that his inability to just get over it has made him so selfish that he dared to make someone else’s wedding about himself.
He gets off the treadmill, towels the sweat off of his face. By the time that he gets back to the apartment, he feels a little better.
He texts Jo.
i want to explain to you what happened with nicholas, he sends. but i need to be drunk while doing it. is there a drink that you like?
i’ve always wanted to try twisted tea, Jo sends back.
Yuma goes grocery shopping the next day, and buys a pack.
---
“Are you a heavyweight?” Yuma asks Jo, after they’ve finished dinner next week, and Yuma brings out the Twisted Tea.
“I am, actually,” Jo says. He grabs a can, turning it this way and that. “It takes a lot to get me drunk.”
“Tall people really have it all,” Yuma grumbles.
Jo pops the tab and takes a sip. Yuma does the same. It tastes about how Yuma expected it to, regular iced tea with a slight burn. “What’s the verdict?” Yuma asks.
“It’s pretty good.”
They keep drinking, talking about the logistics of how they’re getting to the wedding. Yuma’s got a car, so they’ll make the six-hour drive there, attend the wedding, and then stay in the nearby hotel for the night before driving back. “It’s crazy that it’s so soon,” Yuma says. “You know Fuma and Kei are only four years older than us.”
“Yeah,” Jo says.
“What flavor of Twisted Tea do you wanna try next time?” Yuma says, pulling up the website and passing Jo his phone. Jo stares at the options like this is a multiple-choice exam, a little furrow appearing in his brow. It’s cute. Wow, is Yuma drunk already?
“Raspberry,” Jo decides.
“Ooh, good choice.”
They watch episode 4 of Blue Spring Ride— the alcohol is starting to kick in, so Yuma laughs more than he usually would— and then Yuma shuts off the TV and tells Jo, “Okay, it’s time for my sob story now. But you aren’t allowed to feel bad for me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious. You have to promise that you won’t feel bad for me.”
Jo doesn’t say anything to that, just offers Yuma his pinky. Yuma links their pinkies together, and then he starts talking.
It isn’t much of a story. He went to high school with Nicholas. Yuma was in the grade below, and Yuma refused to admit it to himself, but he had a crush. After all, it was impossible for Yuma not to like Nicholas, who was cool and arrogant and also so, so unbelievably sweet without even trying.
There was a gap when Yuma was in his senior year of high school, and Nicholas was in his freshman year of university. Yuma watched over text and social media as Nicholas got further and further away, pictures of red solo cups and flashy outfits and house parties with the lights turned down low. And Yuma thought that was the worst of it, until one day Yuma visited campus and Nicholas said, let me introduce you to my roommate.
Yuma still remembers it, the first time that he saw the way that Nicholas looked at Euijoo. And Yuma thought, oh my god, he’s in love. And then, over the shattering of his own heart, he thought, damn, what a loser.
Yuma started university. He partied hard and studied hard, getting drunk and kissing strangers and acing his midterms in the morning. He got more piercings and made more friends. He was an introvert who blended in with the extroverts, and he was a cynic that was too cool for love.
And then Euijoo started dating Hanbin.
That was when the bit started. They were drunk. Nicholas kissed Yuma, and Yuma kissed him back. Nicholas pulled Yuma into his bed, and Yuma let him. They agreed to try it out.
They actually lasted pretty long, given the situation. Nicholas tried really hard to love him. But eventually he broke character. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kept saying, and after Yuma was done being angry at Nicholas, he told him that it was okay. And when Nicholas and Euijoo got together, Yuma congratulated them with everybody else.
But Yuma never stopped being angry at himself.
“Wow,” Jo says, when Yuma is finished. He’s been silent through the whole thing, nodding to show Yuma that he was listening.
“You don’t feel bad for me, right?” Yuma says. At some point during his story tears had started falling, and he furiously swipes them away. “You promised.”
“I don’t.”
“Good,” Yuma says. “Because it’s just so— I don’t know. It’s such a typical story, I guess. It could have happened to anyone.”
“You were unlucky,” Jo agrees. “Are you still in love?”
Yuma wants to say I was never in love, but literally everything he just said would beg to differ. “I don’t think so,” he says slowly. “It’s been a long time. It’s been two years. I don’t have feelings anymore.”
“I’m glad. You can do better.”
At this Yuma laughs. “Thanks.”
Jo gives him a little smile and knocks their Twisted Teas together.
“And I really do think Nicholas and Euijoo are perfect together,” Yuma continues. He feels his throat closing up. Somehow that makes it worse.
It isn’t that Yuma still has feelings for Nicholas. It’s that he doesn’t know how to stop feeling like his life isn’t his own, that he isn’t the protagonist of his own story but rather the second lead of someone else’s. He doesn’t know how to stop feeling like any love story of his would just be a consolation prize. He really wants to, though. He’s so tired of feeling like this.
“Anyway,” Yuma says. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend at the wedding. That was a stupid idea.”
Jo hums. “Actually, I want to do it.”
“Really?” Yuma says. “Hey, Jo! I told you not to feel bad for me.”
“It isn’t because I feel bad for you,” Jo says. “But I want to help you feel a little better, if I can.”
Yuma reaches over and hugs him. Jo stiffens in surprise before he turns around and hugs him back. Jo is warm and broad and smells nice, and they’re in this ridiculous position since they’re both still sitting on the couch, but Yuma thinks it fits them. “You’re so nice, Jo,” Yuma says, muffled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jo says. “I’m a bad actor, remember?”
“I don’t care,” Yuma says. He releases Jo. “Hey, are you okay to get home, by the way? How much did you drink?”
“It’s okay. I’m not drunk at all.”
“I promise I will never do this to you again,” Yuma says, hand over his heart. “This will be the only time you have to deal with me drunkenly ranting.”
“We’re friends,” Jo says. “This is what friends are for.”
---
On the day of the wedding, Yuma drives over to Jo’s apartment at ten in the morning. Jo’s standing on the sidewalk, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He’s dressed in casual attire; they both are, since they aren’t about to sit in the car for six hours wearing suits.
“Hey,” Yuma says, when Jo opens the door and folds himself into the passenger seat.
“I like your fuzzy dice,” Jo tells him.
“Thank you, I like them too,” Yuma says. He gestures to the speakers. “What do you want to listen to?”
“You can choose.”
“Absolutely not,” Yuma says, glaring at him. “You’re doing me this ridiculous favor, you get control of the aux cord.”
“Um,” Jo says hesitantly.
Yuma waits.
“You know how radio stations change as you pass through different cities?” Jo says, and Yuma nods. “When my family took road trips when I was younger, we would try to find the best radio station of each city.”
That’s adorable. This is a terrifying thought to have sober, so Yuma sticks it on the back burner and focuses on navigating his way out of the city. They’re mostly silent, except for Yuma snickering at badly-written commercials and Jo humming along to the songs that he likes, but Yuma feels at ease. A while back, a six-hour car ride with Jo Asakura would have been unimaginable; Yuma would have suffocated from the awkwardness. Now it feels only natural.
Over the week they hashed out the details of their fake relationship routine. It’s exactly what Yuma suggested all those weeks ago: Yuma will do the talking, while Jo will look at Yuma like he likes him and nod along. Yuma also told Jo that he doesn’t need to do anything physical; both of them are private people, so it makes sense if they don’t do PDA.
They stop at a gas station at noon and sit on the curb, eating the sandwiches that Yuma had packed for lunch.
“Hey,” Jo says. “About the… physical affection thing.”
“Yeah?”
“If I were actually in a relationship with you,” Jo says. “I wouldn’t, um, make out with you in front of everybody, or anything. But I’d probably hold your hand, or put my arm around your shoulder. Those are things that I would do.”
“Oh,” Yuma says.
“So would you be comfortable with me doing that at the wedding?”
“Yeah, I’m fine with that,” Yuma says. “Anything you want to do to sell it.”
Yuma feels off-kilter when he gets in the car. The radio’s losing signal by now, so they start off the next leg of their trip by flipping through the available stations, trying to find something good. When they land on a station currently playing a song by The Weeknd, they both yell, “This one!” and start laughing.
Thirty minutes away from the venue, Yuma pulls into a rest stop and they go and change into their formal attire. When Jo walks out in a fitted blue blazer and slim black dress pants, Yuma has to remember how to breathe. He closes his eyes for a second and reminds himself that this is Jo, his friend.
He opens his eyes. What the fuck, Jo is still so goddamn hot.
“You look great,” Yuma says, privately deciding that he must be going insane or something.
“So do you.”
They drive the last thirty minutes, Yuma stealing glances at Jo. Yuma feels so out of his depth. He wonders if for the first time in his life, he will be the one to break character.
In any case, they’re in the parking lot of the venue now, cars all around them. Yuma finds an open space and pulls in, killing the engine. They exit the car, and Jo takes his hand. It’s nice. Jo’s hand is warm and large and their fingers interlock comfortably. “Are you ready?” Jo asks.
“Yeah,” Yuma says. “I am.”
---
The venue is outdoors, straight out of a storybook. They’re surrounded by trees, a lake behind the altar. Sunlight falls through the leaves and dances across the water.
It’s a perfect June day.
Taki’s at a table taking attendance. “Yuma! Jo!” he says. Yuma sees Taki’s eyes dip toward the linked hands; however, he doesn’t say anything, just smiles at them and gives Yuma a wink.
Taki stands up to give them both hugs; it doesn’t quite work since there’s a table between them, but the spirit is there. “You guys suck. You need to come visit more often.”
“Sorry,” Yuma says. He misses Taki, too. “How are you feeling about this wedding?”
“I am so nervous, I feel like I’m the one getting married,” Taki says. “I have to stand up there next to Kei throughout the whole ceremony and you guys know how good I am at standing still. Yuma, we cannot make eye contact or else I will start laughing.”
“I’ll make a funny face at you,” Yuma teases.
Taki glares at him. “Don’t you dare.”
The ceremony is short but sweet. Yuma doesn’t carry out his threat; he knows how much effort Taki is putting into holding himself so still, and Yuma commends him for it.
Fuma and Kei recite their vows to each other. Jo makes it through Fuma’s vows dry-eyed but tears up at Kei’s. Yuma squeezes Jo’s hand and offers him a little smile. At the kiss, they both clap with everybody else.
“Alright, who’s ready for the reception!” Kei shouts, and everybody cheers.
Yuma and Jo stand up and head to cocktail hour, which is stationed outside of the billowing white tent that’s been set up for dinner. There’s an open bar, and tables have been set up with silver plates of appetizers. Yuma stares admiringly at the fairy lights and paper decorations that have been strung up overhead; the sun is setting now, and this will look even prettier at night.
He spots Nicholas about the same time that Nicholas spots him.
“Hey!” Nicholas says, waving. Yuma and Jo both give Nicholas a hug, and then Jo puts his arm around Yuma’s shoulder. “It’s so good to see you guys!”
“It’s really been a long time,” Yuma says. It’s the first time that he’s seen Nicholas in a year. Truthfully, Yuma doesn’t know how he’s feeling— every emotion he’s experienced toward Nicholas has gone through the washer so many times that he thought that it was impossible to feel anything new. And yet, Yuma is feeling something new, although he isn’t quite sure what it is just yet.
“Harua really did a number with this wedding, eh?” Nicholas says.
“He did,” Jo says.
“The wedding also really did a number on Harua,” Yuma says. “I remember him calling months ago and being like, Kei wants to invite the entire Northern Hemisphere while Fuma wants to get married in the nearby Pokémon Center, why did I think it was a good idea to plan for them? ”
Nicholas laughs. “Do Pokémon centers do weddings?”
“Of course they do,” Yuma says. “They have a Pikachu officiate and everything.”
This time Jo laughs, too, and Yuma can feel him shake a little bit by his side. It’s nice.
“So,” Nicholas says, and gestures to them. Yuma-and-Jo. “How did this happen?”
And Yuma tells him the story. He tells Nicholas about how he texted Jo a while back, asking to meet for coffee. How Yuma always thought that Jo was good-looking back in university, but for some reason never fully gave him a chance. But then they started hanging out, and Yuma figured out that Jo was kind and creative and way more patient with Yuma than he deserved.
“So I asked him out,” Yuma says. “And for some reason he said yes.”
He glances at Jo, and is not at all prepared at the way that Jo is looking at him right now, soft and intense all at once.
“Well, Yuma is good to me,” Jo tells Nicholas. His smile is the most decisive thing that Yuma has ever seen. “I really like him.”
Yuma doesn’t know what to do right now. He wants to make a joke but he can’t.
“I’m so happy for you guys,” Nicholas says.
“Thank you,” Yuma says. And then, desperate to change the subject, “Where’s Euijoo?”
Nicholas starts explaining how as Fuma’s best man Euijoo is attending to his duties, and Yuma barely pays attention. He thinks about the solid weight of Jo’s arm around him, how it makes him feel safe.
He thinks about Jo’s kindness. The endless expanse of it. Yuma has a sharp wit which he wields like a sword, but tonight it isn’t necessary. Jo stands in front of him with all his sincerity, and it surrounds Yuma like a shield.
Dinner is served at eight. The sky is dark enough now that the fairy lights are at their full effect, lighting up the tent. The food is standard fare but delicious— Jo takes a bite of the rice and gives a thumbs up— and then Euijoo’s standing up, tapping his fork against his glass. He gives an honest speech about Fuma that melts everybody’s hearts, right before Taki stands up and gives a comedic speech about Kei that has everybody in stitches.
And then, after the cake is cut and served, it’s time to dance.
“I can’t dance,” Jo says apologetically, just as the first few notes of the Cupid Shuffle start playing.
“This song comes with instructions. No excuses,” Yuma says, and pulls him onto the makeshift dance floor.
Jo doesn’t know how to freestyle, but it’s somehow endearing. They dance, and then Taki comes over with Harua in tow, yelling about how he finally managed to get Harua to take a moment off from overseeing the wedding. And then Kei steals Jo away, and Yuma ends up bumping into Nicholas again, and Yuma realizes what this new feeling is.
It’s freedom. Yuma looks at Nicholas and there is no grudge, no resentment. Nicholas is just a person, the same way Yuma is just a person, and even though they hurt each other, they were both trying their best. The ropes around Yuma’s chest unwind, falling to the floor, and he is finally able to breathe.
“Want to dance?” Nicholas asks, and Yuma acquiesces.
---
It’s midnight by the time that the reception ends. Yuma and Jo stagger back to the parking lot, full of cake and tired from dancing and each holding a bag of wedding favors. Yuma opens the trunk and ends up thumping his head against his suitcase instead of pulling it out. “That was fun,” he says. “But I’m exhausted.”
“Me too,” Jo agrees. He grabs his duffel bag and gently taps Yuma on the shoulder. “Hey, the sooner we get to the hotel, the sooner we can sleep.”
“Ugh,” Yuma groans. He forces himself upright and grabs his suitcase. “Let’s go.”
Yuma’s already made a reservation beforehand, and they check in at the front desk before heading up to the second floor, where their room is. Yuma pushes open the door and walks in, fumbling along the wall for the light switch. It’s a pretty standard hotel room, two beds and an armchair that Jo drops his duffel bag on.
“You want to shower first, or should I?” Yuma says, yawning. He stays away from the beds, because if he lies down now he is not going to get back up.
“You can go first,” Jo says.
Yuma closes the bathroom door. He brushes his teeth and then turns on the faucet, stripping out of his dress shirt and pants and stepping under the spray. He feels a lot more human by the time he walks out, toweling himself dry and changing into a faded set of pajamas.
“All yours,” Yuma says, walking out.
As Jo heads into the bathroom, Yuma sits down on one of the beds and unties the ribbon on the wedding favors. A square of peppermint bark, two bath bombs, and a candle labeled Cool Breeze. Yuma opens it and inhales. A cool breeze, indeed.
The bathroom door opens. Jo walks out in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats, black hair slightly damp. He looks like a dream, and Yuma suddenly wishes that they could pretend for a little longer. Even now, when Jo sits on the other bed, Yuma feels like he’s too far away.
“Hey,” Yuma says, shaking his head to clear the thought. He must be even more tired than he thought. “Thanks for being my fake boyfriend tonight.”
“You’re welcome,” Jo says. “Did I do okay?”
“You did amazing,” Yuma says. He holds up the candle. “Here’s your Oscar.”
Jo gives him a tiny smile. “Are you okay with me turning the lights off now?”
“Leave the bathroom light on,” Yuma says.
Jo understands what he means; he turns off the main light but leaves the door to the bathroom open a sliver, so that there’s still a faint glow to the darkness of the room. Yuma blinks, letting his eyes adjust. He turns around to look at where Jo is carefully climbing into his own bed.
“Good night,” Jo says.
“Night,” Yuma says.
He looks at Jo until he can’t stay awake anymore, drifting off to sleep.
In the morning it’s a rush to eat breakfast and check out on time, and then they make the six hour drive back. They do Jo’s radio-hopping thing again, and Jo unwraps his wedding favors— a square of peppermint bark, two bath bombs, and a candle labeled Blue Mist.
“Who comes up with candle names?” Yuma says.
Jo shrugs. He’s been really quiet today. Yuma knows that this is just how Jo usually is, and that he’s probably really drained from yesterday’s wedding, but Yuma feels anxious all the same. When they get back to the city, and Yuma drops Jo back off at his apartment, Yuma asks, “Are we meeting next week?”
“Of course,” Jo says, and Yuma wonders why, even though Jo’s words are reassuring, Yuma still feels so dissatisfied.
---
Yuma figures it out next week after he and Jo are both full from udon and they’re watching episode 5 of Blue Spring Ride.
They’re sitting on Yuma’s couch with a platonically appropriate amount of space between them, and Yuma is reminded of the hotel when Jo had been in the other bed and some part of Yuma had demanded, no, come closer. He wants Jo to hold his hand again. Put his arm around Yuma’s shoulders. Yuma can’t pay attention to the screen. He keeps sneaking glances over at Jo, wondering what he’s thinking.
They make eye contact. Yuma rips his gaze away immediately, cheeks burning.
He wonders what it would be like to kiss Jo. If his lips are as soft as they look. Would he kiss sweetly, sincerely, the way that he does everything else? Would he reach up and cradle Yuma’s face in his hands, like Yuma is someone who deserves to be loved? Yuma wants to know. He wants to kiss Jo so badly that he can’t breathe.
His thoughts feel so loud that he’s terrified Jo can hear them as well.
After Jo leaves— somehow, Yuma manages to act normal through the rest of the evening, even if he’s paranoid that his voice is higher than usual— he rubs a hand down his face and goes to clean the kitchen. The process is as tedious and methodological as usual, but it feels unfamiliar with the fizzing in his chest like bubbles rising in a bottle of soda.
He has no idea if it’s love. Probably not— he and Jo are so different. But Yuma likes Jo. He really, really likes him. And he doesn’t know if Jo returns his feelings, but god, Yuma is so glad that they started talking again. Yuma starts laughing, standing in the kitchen with a soapy dishrag in his hands. He remembers the way that Jo had looked at him at the wedding and feels crazy and breathless.
For the first time in a long time, Yuma feels brand new.
He texts Taki. i think i committed a little too hard to the bit.
oh?? Taki replies.
i have real feelings for my fake boyfriend.
OMG. YOU LIKE JO ASAKURA? Taki responds, before calling him. Yuma picks up on the third ring.
“Why are we always referring to him by both his first and last name?” Yuma asks, in lieu of a hello.
“No idea. But this is so exciting!” Taki says, before making a noise that has Yuma wincing and pressing his hand over the speakers. His phone was not built to withstand that.
“Actually this is the worst,” Yuma grumbles. “Having a crush is so embarrassing.”
“It’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you.”
Yuma raises an eyebrow, although he knows Taki can’t see it. “Just because you’re incapable of shame doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that.”
“You’re just as shameless as me,” Taki says, and he’s right. “And Yuma, I don’t think your problem is that you committed too hard to the bit. I actually think that you haven’t committed hard enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you want Jo to be your real boyfriend?” Taki says. “Ask him out!”
Yuma hangs up on him.
He ignores Taki’s outraged texts of yuma you’re the worst, yuma call me back, yumaaaaa, until Harua texts him hey taki’s saying you need to call him back. Yuma barely has time to feel indignant that Taki got Harua involved, until Yuma admits to himself that maybe it’s finally time to listen to Harua’s voice of reason after Yuma has been avoiding it for the past two months. He calls them both.
“Hello?” Harua says, suspicious.
“Hey Harua,” Yuma says.
“Hey Harua, nice job with the wedding,” Taki says cheerfully. “Yuma here made some poor life decisions.”
“Oh boy,” Harua says wearily. “Alright, Yuma, explain.”
So Yuma does. Harua’s nice, so that even when he’s judging all of his life decisions it doesn’t feel all that bad. So Yuma tells him about the call with Nicholas, and how Yuma said that he was dating Jo, and how Yuma got coffee with Jo asking to be fake boyfriends and then how it all spiraled from there.
“You asked JO ASAKURA to pretend to be your boyfriend?” Harua asks, disbelieving.
“Yes,” Yuma says.
“Wow,” Harua says, and even over the phone Yuma just knows that Harua is rubbing his temples. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Yuma privately thinks that for someone who doesn’t know what to say, Harua ends up lecturing for quite a while. Yuma definitely deserves it, though, so he listens while Harua talks about how it is not cool to lie to your friends and how it is also not cool to drag someone into a fake relationship and that he understands that Yuma went through the wringer with Nicholas, but he better not pull anything like this again.
“Also, really?” Harua says sternly. “You did this with Jo, of all people? You know he can’t act to save his life.”
“No, you guys, he’s actually a really good actor,” Yuma insists. “He really seemed like he liked me at the wedding.”
Dead silence.
“Yuma, you are so fucking stupid,” Taki says.
“Yeah, you really are,” Harua agrees.
Well, shit. Taki and Harua never agree about anything. Yuma must really be fucking stupid.
“Anyway, Yuma, I think you should ask him out,” Taki says. “Commit to the bit.”
“Taki, that is not it,” Harua sighs. “But Yuma, I do think that Jo deserves your honesty after everything.”
Yuma swallows. Harua is right. “Okay.”
“Also, he really likes chocolate. Just so you know,” Harua says, and hangs up.
---
Over the weekend, Yuma goes to a little specialty shop and buys a square box of chocolates. He also contemplates buying flowers, but he doesn’t think that Jo has a vase, and no matter how this goes, they’re both going to be dying of embarrassment. Yuma goes home and stares at the box, the gold wrapping and the red ribbon. He presses his hands to his face.
He imagines confessing to Jo. I like you. Even in his head, the words are so soft and vulnerable that they makes him feel nauseous. Yuma knows that he’ll give Jo his honesty no matter what, but he wonders if he even deserves to ask Jo to date him for real. Jo has given him so much kindness unearned. But maybe Yuma could earn it, in the future. Maybe Yuma could figure out how to be softer, gentler. Not just for Jo. For himself, too.
On Wednesday Yuma drives to Jo’s apartment. Jo buzzes him in and Yuma takes the elevator up to his unit, heart hammering in his chest. Jo isn’t going to mean about this, he knows that. But still, Yuma has no idea what his answer will be. He walks up to the door of Jo’s unit and knocks.
Jo opens it. “Hey, Yuma.”
“I like you,” Yuma blurts out. He offers Jo the chocolates. “These are for you.”
Jo’s eyes widen, shocked. He reaches out and takes the box, opening the door a little further. “You… wait, come in first,” he says.
Yuma steps into the unit, untying his shoes and taking them off. Jo sets the box on the counter, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. “Is this…” he says. “Is this more of the fake dating thing?”
Yuma is the worst person in the world. “It isn’t,” he says. “I like you. I want to write you songs and hold your hand, and I want to date you for real. I know that I’ve taken a really convoluted route to come to this conclusion, and I understand perfectly if you don’t feel the same, but— I think you deserve to know.”
“Oh,” Jo says.
“Do you like me?” Yuma asks.
Jo smiles at him, eight parts sweet and two parts embarrassed. “You don’t already know?”
“What?”
“I thought you knew,” Jo says. “At the wedding.”
“You were acting,” Yuma says.
“I can’t act,” Jo admits. “And I don’t like trying, either. Everything on my side at the wedding was real.”
“Oh,” Yuma says, feeling like he’s been punched in the chest. So Jo hadn’t magically developed acting skills in the last two months; instead, he had developed feelings for Yuma. Somehow that is even more unbelievable. “Are you serious? But I— I haven’t been good to you.”
Jo hums. “I think you have,” he says. “You’re a lot of fun to be around. I have a good time, with you.”
Yuma feels like there’s something else. “Yeah?”
“I like you, but I don’t know if I want to date you,” Jo says, voice soft. “I feel like you might still be hung up on your ex. You were so upset about him that you made up an entire fake boyfriend.”
Yuma bites his lip. He can’t deny that it’s fair of Jo to think that. “I understand,” he says. “And I’m okay with that. We can stay friends for now. But…”
Jo waits.
Yuma flashes Jo his brightest smile. At twenty-three years old he is ready to try sincerity, but he’ll do it his own way. “I’m going to prove you wrong,” he says. “I’m going to prove that I like you and only you. I’ll work for it, and— I think that I could be a better person if I learned it from you.”
“Okay,” Jo says. “I look forward to it.”
And Yuma’s hopeful. He’s hopeful an hour later when Jo asks him if they can rewatch Episode 5 because he couldn’t focus last time. He’s hopeful a week later when he and Jo are at the art museum and Jo reaches out, shy, to take Yuma’s hand. He’s hopeful a month later when they finish Blue Spring Ride and Yuma is talking about how Jo’s comic deserves an anime adaptation too, and Jo leans over and kisses him, sweet as anything and as hot as hell.
What can Yuma say? He’s falling in love with Jo Asakura. And that, ladies and gentleman, is no joke at all.