Archive of Our Own

"So, we will need to ask you to move out within the next three months", the man doesn't even look at him as he says it, "Preferably earlier."

The door slams shut, leaving Haruka standing in his cold, damp apartment all by himself. For a long moment, he doesn't move, only focusing on breathing.

In, hold, out. Repeat.

Biting his lip, he wills himself not to cry as he finally moves. I've been through worse, he repeats in his head like a mantra, I'll find something new.

Thing is, he's not sure about that at all. With some stupid company buying up the property his dilapidated apartment building stands on and planning to tear it down, he will have trouble finding somewhere else this cheap with the little money his father provides him to live off each month.

Makochi, while far from a prestigious town, is still part of the country and adheres to its rules and laws. Therefore, rent prices aren't exactly low. This was pretty much the only place Haruka was able to find when he first moved here. He can only hope that in the meantime, someone else has moved out of a similar place, leaving a shitty unit empty for him.

It's not like he likes this apartment all that much either. Objectively, it's shit. There's no stove, the door doesn't lock, the water only heats up when it feels like it, and the insulation is nonexistent, leaving him freezing in the colder months. Yet, as he walks around the few square meters he calls his home, he takes in all the ways his friends have helped liven up the place. Nirei's star-patterned curtains, Suo's stupid tea set, Kiryu's ugly plushie, even Tsugeura's dumbbells in the corner. Haruka can't help but feel a pesky ache in his heart at the sight.

He's never been a materialist, never had the chance to be, and he certainly isn't one now. But, for the first time, he realizes he actually owns things. And not just practical ones, like clothing and a toothbrush, but memorabilia. Photographs and trinkets and manga, all with memories attached to them. He doesn't want to give any of this up.

But realistically, what will he do if he can't find something new so quickly? Sure, if worse comes to worst, he could sneak into the high school and sleep there, but he would be found out eventually, and he knows it'd make his friends horribly upset.

His friends, who would probably insist he move in with one of them. (Except Suo, maybe, God knows where that guy goes when the bell rings.) And as much as Haruka appreciates his friends' care and generosity, he couldn't bring himself to be such a burden on any of their families. He's independent, he always has been, so he will simply have to figure it out.

Determined, he gets out his phone and starts searching. He flips through apartment listings, filtering them by lowest to highest price as Kiryu taught him to do. A sobering dread quickly takes up residence in his gut when it becomes readily apparent that he can't afford any of this. Even the smallest, most bare-bones studio apartment in the worst part of town would leave him with no money for food or utility bills.

Fuck.

His looming homelessness weighs on Haruka's mind like an anvil. Not a second goes by on any given day that he's not thinking about it. It frustrates him terribly, as he's usually not the overthinking type. He doesn't worry like this, he prefers to take action and get shit done — with his fists, if need be. However, he knows this isn't the kind of problem that such an approach will fix, and he doesn't have the expertise or resources to know what to do beyond that.

Could he contact social services or something like that? But then he'd probably have to get in contact with his father again, and God knows what will happen then. What if they take him away? Put him in some other orphanage or foster home far away from Makochi and his new family? That would be a death sentence, so Haruka absolutely refuses to let that happen. The government cannot become involved in any way, shape or form. What does that leave?

"What's wrong, Sakura-san?", Nirei frowns at him when they're eating at Pothos after patrol. Even his favorite omurice can't cheer Haruka up, the price tag red and flashing in his mind, and he knows he just missed an entire conversation again.

"Yeah", Suo adds from Nirei's other side, a thoughtful look in his eye, "You've been out of it. If there's something wrong, you know you can talk to us."

He knows. He does. It's not like he doesn't trust his friends. He has learned that the entirety of Furin — nay, Makochi — would offer themselves up for each other with great enthusiasm, and would never want something like this to plague him. He knows, intimately, that they would do anything to help him and figure out a solution. And he knows also, that Suo and Nirei are incredibly capable and smart and could probably think of things Haruka has never even heard of.

Still, he just can't bring himself to confess.

Maybe it's shame, coiling hidden somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, or perhaps he just doesn't want them to offer up their own homes to him. That's a guilt he just couldn't live with, even if it was Kiryu's rich family. None of them would let him pay rent, and as much as he considers all of Furin his family now, he feels that coming to live with someone's blood relatives is an entirely different beast. He doesn't trust himself not to mess that up.

So he shakes his head and puts on a small smile. It's genuine, the concerned looks on his best friends' faces making him feel warm.

"I'm fine, just -" He doesn't want to lie to them, either. "I'll tell you when I've figured it out."

Nirei's lips part in an offended gasp. "We can help you figure it out!"

"I know", Haruka takes a sip of his coffee. It's cold. "But I want to do this by myself."

When Nirei looks ready to continue arguing, Suo places a firm hand on his shoulder and nods. He still looks concerned but seems to have accepted Haruka's words, familiar with secrecy himself. For once, Haruka is grateful that Suo always seems to be able to read his mind. Serenely, the other quickly directs their conversation down a different path, stringing Nirei along and leaving Haruka to sigh quietly in relief.

How much longer can he keep this up for?

Not long, it turns out. The next day, as classes are almost over, he receives a text. It jolts him from his daydreams, slumped over in his chair. Knowing the teachers at this school don't care what they do, he pulls the phone from his pocket and clumsily navigates to the messaging app.

Momijikawa Sakae

Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?

It makes Haruka flush, but he knows he's smiling. It's become a bit of a tradition over the past month for the two of them to meet at Momijikawa's place and have dinner together. The other boy always cooks for him, new and different dishes every time, and it's always amazing. Haruka likes to think they've become good friends by doing this, their conversations engaging, their silences comfortable, the two of them on a similar wavelength.

Sometimes, he still worries that he's using the other boy somehow, taking his hospitality for granted. After all, Haruka never cooks for him, but Momijikawa insists he doesn't mind, that he likes taking care of people, and Haruka's never been strong enough to deny a good meal. So, he already knows what his answer's going to be.

You

Sure.

Momijikawa Sakae

Cool.

See you later, Haruka!

You

See ya.

"What's got you blushing like that, Sakura-chan?"

With a jolt, Haruka realizes that class has ended. In front of him, Kiryu is half-perched on his desk, and Haruka is quite embarrassed that he doesn't seem to have noticed him. The other boy is grinning.

"N-nothing", he wrestles the phone back into his pocket and quickly stands up. The heat of his face has yet to die down, and he blames it all on Momijikawa's stupid insistency on calling him by his given name. He's been doing it for weeks, yet Haruka still feels flustered by it every time. It's so oddly…intimate. Nobody else calls him that. "Let's go."

With a shrug, Kiryu thankfully doesn't dig and the two of them meet their friends in the hallway, ready to patrol the town once more.

Lately, Haruka has taken to using the time on patrol to inconspicuously scout for apartments. As they walk past different buildings, he keeps an eye out for any flyer or advertisement that seems promising but as usual, the prices are simply too high. There's a numbness in the pit of his belly, growing larger with every apartment listing he couldn't dream of affording. It's eating him up from the inside out, and it's becoming harder and harder for Haruka to get out of bed in the mornings, even though he barely sleeps these days.

It can't go on like this, and he knows that. He knows his friends are concerned, even Azusawa and Kunigi frowning at him in the hallways and at meetings. He sees Umemiya's and Tsubaki's worried glances, hears everyone's hushed conversations, but since Nirei's and Suo's attempt, no one has questioned him again. He's grateful for it, but he's also painfully aware of the time running out. Soon, he will have no choice but to let them all know.

It can't be worse than telling them about his past, and he's not afraid of judgment. It's just an uncomfortable situation that they're all too young to be dealing with. None of them are adults, there's no one who can truly help him, and he doesn't want them to feel torn-up about that.

That evening, it's clear Momijikawa has an agenda. When he lets Haruka inside, there's a calculating look in his eyes. He continues to muster him up as they chat about their days, Haruka settling at the kitchen table while Momijikawa finishes cooking. It smells divine, as usual, the mix of spices in the air painfully home-y. Haruka's heart squeezes dangerously.

He's aware that Momijikawa is far from lucky. Still, there's a tiny bit of jealousy inside of him when he thinks about how at least Momijikawa had a family at some point. He knows the feeling of being loved and he's familiar with having a home — a safe, warm place to come back to. He knows homemade meals and hugs and laughter.

Of course, this made the tragedies that occurred even more heartbreaking for him, but Haruka can't help but wonder — looking around this small but neat apartment — whether it was still worth it. At least Momijikawa has a place he can afford, though Haruka's not sure how he does it. Family money, probably. Maybe a distant relative. He doesn't know.

Before Haruka can blink, the food is set before him. Today, there's a bowl of rice and a bigger bowl filled with chicken, sauce and a variety of vegetables. Like he's a child, Momijikawa has been introducing him to lots of new dishes, and they've all been incredible. Even the vegetables don't taste so bad when he cooks them. Stomach growling, Haruka happily digs in, letting the meal and all its flavors warm him up from the inside out and banish his worries from his mind for just a second.

The two boys continue to have light conversation, discussing their classmates and the book Momijikawa has been reading. Still, Haruka feels more watched than usual, Momijikawa smiling even less than he normally would. And sure, he's not exactly Mr. Sunshine, but Haruka's gotten used to his small, content smiles or smug smirks, so it feels strange to see him so serious now. It's reminiscent of how he was when they first met not so long ago.

"Somethin' up?", Haruka finally asks.

They've finished their food now, and are just sipping water and enjoying each other's presence. There's a permanent wrinkle between Momijikawa's eyebrows, though.

Sighing, Momijikawa puts his glass down and crosses his arms. His hoodie strains slightly at the shoulders, Haruka can't help but notice, he should probably get new clothes soon.

"I've been meaning to ask you that."

Ah. Haruka should've known Momijikawa would catch on, too.

When Haruka isn't quick to reply, Momijikawa's frown deepens. He drops his arms and leans forward, elbows now on the table, to get a better look at Haruka's face. He doesn't know what kind of expression he's making, but it can't be good if the growing concern on Momijikawa's usually stoic face is anything to go by.

"Haruka", his mouth is pinched, "What's wrong?"

Maybe it's the exhaustion eating away at his brain and heart, maybe it's the chronic anxiety in his gut, or maybe it's Momijikawa's deep, steady voice and his kind eyes. Haruka doesn't know, but he finds himself spilling his guts all over Momijikawa's dining table, telling the other boy everything he's been holding in for the past weeks.

To his horror, he feels tears gather in his eyes by the time he's done, threatening to spill over. Haruka never cries, hasn't since he realized it won't make a difference in how people treat him. So the wetness now slowly beginning to trail down his cheeks despite his best efforts freezes him in place. Has he truly become this comfortable here? He didn't know he even could still cry.

Clearly worried but terminally awkward, Momijikawa grabs his forearm in what is probably meant to be a comforting gesture. It's a bit too firm to be so, but when he loosens his grip just so and begins rubbing the skin with his thumb, it does help Haruka feel more grounded.

Sniffling, he does his best to gather himself and looks up. Momijikawa's face is dark and serious, but his eyes are soft. In the orange light of the ceiling lamp, Haruka can't help but notice how nice they are. A deep, caramel brown, narrow and expressive, with surprisingly long eyelashes.

"Move in with me."

Haruka blinks. Huh? Did Momijikawa just say that? He didn't see his lips move, but it's not like there's anybody else there. He doubts the ghost of Momijikawa's grandmother is making such ludicrous statements.

"W-what?", he shakes his head in disbelief. He suspected his friends might pull something like this if he told them, but he hadn't expected it from Momijikawa for some reason. He lives alone. It's totally different.

Momijikawa sighs, his cheeks tinted pink. He avoids Haruka's eyes for a moment before looking back at him, determination set in every single one of his features.

"Move in with me", he repeats himself, "I have an extra room."

Technically, Haruka knows this. He's gotten the tour of the place, and it's not like it's huge. There's the hallway, the combined kitchen and living room, the bathroom, Momijikawa's bedroom and the room that used to be his grandmother's before he moved her to the living room to better care for her. It's a small but cozy room he's only peaked inside once. He also knows that, just like the stretcher in the living area and all the labels on every shelf, that the room remains unchanged.

He couldn't force Momijikawa to get rid of his grandmother's things and mess up his grieving process or whatever, just so he could plop a futon down in her old room and have somewhere to sleep. It's too much.

"Momijikawa", he begins but doesn't know how to continue. It's rare that Haruka's at a loss for words, usually so unafraid to offend people, but right now he's truly speechless.

"I've told you you can call me Sakae", Momijikawa rolls his eyes and allows a small smile to bloom on his face, "Please let me do this for you, Haruka."

Scrunching up his face, Haruka prepares to list off all the reasons this is a bad idea, but Momijikawa doesn't let him.

"You've done so much for me." Has he? "Thanks to you, I realized what I could have at Furin, that I'm not alone. I don't want you to be alone either."

The pain in Haruka's heart spikes once more, and for a brief second he wonders if he's having a medical emergency.

"B-but -", he crosses his arms defensively, a snarl on his face. He's reverting back to his old ways, feeling cornered and insecure. "Your grandma, her -"

Sighing, Momijikawa moves his hand down Haruka's forearm until it's grasping his hand. Haruka stills immediately, any words dying on his tongue as his face erupts in a heated flush.

"It's about time I make this apartment my own", he says quietly. It's clear he wants Haruka to not only hear but understand every word. "My grandma will always be with me, but I have to live on. And what better way to do that than to use her memory to help a friend in need?"

Haruka gnaws on his lip, tasting blood on his tongue, as he frantically tries to find ways to dispute this. He can't, though, not when Momijikawa is being so heartfelt and sweet. It's giving Haruka a stomach ache.

Why is he even so adamantly against this? In theory, it's a great solution. They're both teenagers living by themselves, and Momijikawa has a room he's not using. Surely, he would even let him pay rent. And honestly, Haruka knows he's not going to find another apartment in time, so it's either this or the streets — or one of his classmate's family homes, in which their families are very much alive and breathing.

This is the best option.

"Fuckin' fine", he finally relents, all the fight leaving his body. He feels tired, his limbs heavy and eyes drooping. "But I'mma pay ya rent."

Momijikawa rolls his eyes but doesn't argue with him. He gets up to clear the table while Haruka sits there, half contemplating, half trying not to fall asleep on the spot.

"Let's do it this weekend", Momijikawa ushers him out of his chair with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. Haruka puts his shoes on in a daze, nodding with red cheeks. "Get some sleep."

It's Friday afternoon when Nirei tries his luck again.

"Hey, Sakura-san", he squints at him as they get ready to leave for the weekend, "You seem like you're doing better."

Haruka nods, a little stilted. He supposes the time has come. He can't avoid it forever.

"Right?", Kiryu chimes in from behind him, "I was thinking the same thing!"

Sighing, Haruka notices that the whole class has stopped what they were doing to pay attention. It's clear this situation has been the topic of conversation among them for a while now, Haruka feels almost guilty. He wanted to spare them the trouble of worrying by keeping it to himself, yet it seems they were still worried regardless. He should've learned this lesson by now, and he has. Sometimes it's all too easy to revert back to old ways, though.

"I don't have long", is his last attempt to dodge this conversation, but it's a half-hearted one. Haruka already knows he's lost, and he owes them this much at least.

"Hey, Haruka!", sounds a familiar voice from the doorway, halting the talk in place before it's even begun. Everybody's heads swivel around to stare at Momijikawa, who's leaning casually against the doorframe. His eyebrows rise to meet his hairline when he registers that the whole class is still present, all seemingly frozen in various stages of leaving. He frowns.

"Everything alright?"

Haruka nods at him, making a shooing motion with his hands. It doesn't work.

"I'll be waiting outside, yeah? I asked Sugishita-san for help, and he's borrowed a van."

That's good to hear, but obviously confusing to his poor classmates, who have not yet been filled in on the situation. His friends' stares feel like knives on the back of his head.

"Okay", Haruka tries for a smile but it probably comes out as a grimace, "I'll be right there, thanks."

With another lasting, skeptical look at the rest of class 1-1, Momijikawa shrugs and steps away. The door slides closed behind him with an ominous thud.

Lips pressed together, Haruka turns back around to face his friends. Nirei has taken his notebook out and is already furiously scribbling in it — what he's writing, Haruka has no clue — while Suo and Kiryu look contemplative. Tsugeura just looks confused.

"Alright, 's not a big deal", he mumbles and leans back against his desk. It creaks loudly. "My apartment building's being torn down -" Several of his classmates gasp loudly at this. "'nd for a while I didn't know where I'd be livin', since I can't afford anythin' else."

Multiple mouths open simultaneously, and Haruka quickly keeps talking in order to delay their initial reactions.

"So Momijikawa offered to take me in, no big deal."

As he says it, he is very much aware that — at least to his classmates — it is a big deal. And they prove him right. Everyone starts yelling and asking questions at once, loudly declaring they'd have let him sleep on their couch, in their guest room or in their garages? — what the hell, Kurita?

Annoyed, Haruka glares at them all.

"Shut up!"

He takes a deep breath.

"Look", he tries not to feel too guilty about the tearful look on Nirei's face, or the sad understanding on Suo's, "I know y'all woulda helped me, I never doubted that. Just…didn't wanna bother yer families 'nd stuff."

Kiryu frowns, latching onto his arm like a leech. He pushes his head into Haruka's biceps, not unlike a cat.

"Fuck my family", he declares, "You're welcome in my home anytime."

Nirei nods frantically, tears still gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah! My mom would've understood", he says, "But I'm happy you found a solution, Sakura-san."

At this, everyone nods. The atmosphere is a tense mixture of relief and concern. It's clear his class is not happy with Haruka's choice to keep this to himself, but whatever. He's not homeless, so it's fine now. Right?

"Thanks", he acknowledges Nirei's words, "And really, guys, I knew I coulda come to ya, and I almost did. But then Momijikawa suggested this and it just made sense."

It seems no one can argue against this. It is smarter for him to move in with someone else who doesn't have a family, rather than join someone else's family. He doesn't really want to admit it, even to himself, but it would have reminded him a bit too much of the foster homes he grew up in, he thinks. And he'd rather not remember those times.

"Well", Suo raises his voice, tone authoritative, "We're all glad you were able to solve this problem, Sakura-kun. If you need any help with the move, please let us know."

His vice captain, as usual, is very good at making everyone obey his silent command of Leave Sakura alone now. Haruka nods at him in thanks.

"Still", Suo's gaze softens again as it lands back on him, "Tell us next time something like this happens."

With a final nod, Haruka is released from the interrogation. Some of his friends come up to him and give him a hug, but it seems the tension has snapped and everybody is just happy for him now. Crisis averted.

"Momi-chan, huh?", Kiryu grins at him as they finally exit the classroom, "Cute."

Haruka blinks. What does he mean by that?

"Uh, sure", Haruka can feel himself blushing against his will, "'s nice of him."

Kiryu shares a look with Suo that Haruka can't decipher. Nirei seems to realize something and looks between the three of them like he's watching a tennis match.

"Riiiight", Kiryu winks, "And no ulterior motives or anything."

Suo nods sagely. "Of course not."

Flustered and annoyed, Haruka begins walking faster. He doesn't understand what they're giggling about, but he knows it's at his expense. Assholes.

Momijikawa is waiting for him at the school gates. He can see a black van parked a bit farther down the road, which must be Sugishita-san. Haruka isn't sure how comfortable he is with Sugishita probably hearing about all of this once his grandfather comes home, but oh well.

"Ready to go?", Momijikawa says with a friendly nod towards Haruka's friends. They're still grinning like maniacs.

Haruka rolls his eyes and waves them off.

"Yeah, let's do this."

Everything Haruka owns fits into the car with room to spare. The furniture came with the apartment, so all he really has are his futon, his clothes, and the stuff his friends brought, but most of that is small and easily portable. It's almost sad, looking at the more than half-empty truck. Still, it's more than he's ever had, and he'll keep adding to it.

"Thanks for the help." Haruka looks at Sugishita's grandfather, who is now closing the doors and ushering the boys up front.

"No problem, lad", the old man grins at him and ruffles his hair. Haruka blushes to the roots of it. "'s not like ya got much to carry!"

Despite himself, Haruka chuckles along as they get into the driver's cabin. It's a short ride, all things considered, and they arrive at Momijikawa's apartment complex without any issues.

By the time they've carried his meager belongings upstairs, it's not even dinner time. They said they'd use the weekend for this, but Haruka's starting to suspect that they won't even need it.

"Can I offer you some food, Sugishita-san?", Momijikawa asks once they've dropped the last box on the floor of his — their — living room. It's a bit cluttered now, especially considering how neat the environment usually is.

"Nah. But thanks, kid", Sugishita's grandfather replies, "I gotta get goin'. Lemme know if ya need me for anything else!"

With that, the two of them are left alone, and Haruka suddenly realizes that this is what his life is now. Every day from now on, they're going to be in this apartment. Alone. Just the two of them.

It's a strange thought to get used to. Haruka has of course lived with many different people before, but he never truly lived with them. If he wasn't literally exiled to a shed in the garden, he was still kept separate in other ways, not allowed to enter certain rooms at certain times or touch a great variety of things. In most families, he didn't even have permission to open the fridge. He assumes, knows, that this will be different, and it's both a good and a terrifying feeling. Haruka's not sure he knows how to act when he actually lives with someone who wants him around.

"Uh", he slides his gaze over to Momijikawa, who's already looking at him. "What now?"

With a vaguely smug smile, the other boy inclines his head towards the pile of boxes.

"We unpack."

"Alright, this will be your room", Momijikawa opens the door, "I emptied it for you."

And empty it he did. The room Haruka only hazily remembers having a bookshelf and a fluffy rug in it, is now completely bare. He wonders what Momijikawa did with his grandmother's things, and hopes he didn't feel like he had to throw anything away.

It's no luxurious bedchamber, but it's warm and cozy, and more than big enough for Haruka's needs, with clean hardwood floors, white walls, and a big window looking out at the apartment building next to theirs. It's weird to think that this empty space is his home now, even though he's moved into so many empty spaces in the past. Something feels different about this one.

One by one, they carry the boxes from the living room into Haruka's room, slowly unpacking his few belongings. The futon is neatly placed by the window, rays of waning sunlight falling onto it, and Kiryu's ugly plushie goes right next to it. They unfold the fold-up table and place it in the middle of the room, on top of an old rug Momijikawa got out of the hall closet, since Haruka didn't have one. They sort the few clothes he has into piles, as he doesn't own a wardrobe and this apartment doesn't come with built-in closets like his previous one did.

"We'll have to get you one", Momijikawa notes as he hangs up Nirei's curtains. While he already knew this, Haruka is nonetheless impressed by how handy the other boy is, easily fastening the curtain rod to the wall and hanging the curtains, as if he's done this a billion times before. Meanwhile, Haruka has never even touched a drill.

Haruka can only agree, even though he doesn't think he can afford it, nor does he really have a need for it. Maybe they can find a used wardrobe somewhere. He wouldn't mind keeping his clothes in a cardboard box either, it's fine. Something tells him that Momijikawa and his other friends wouldn't like it though.

With this, they're done.

It's…nice. This room is smaller than the one in his old place was, so it doesn't look quite as empty. Though, the lack of actual furniture is painfully apparent, and Momijikawa insists they get not only a wardrobe, but some sort of desk or shelf as well. Haruka tries to tell him he's not made of money, but it's to no avail.

"This is Makochi, Haruka", Momijikawa rolls his eyes, "We'll find it for cheap."

Or free goes unsaid. Considering all the food Haruka gets shoved into his hands on the daily that he has never paid even a cent for, it's safe to assume Momijikawa is right. A desk is worth much more than a bread bun though, and Haruka's not sure how comfortable he would feel accepting such a gift.

"I'll go put my stuff in the bathroom", Haruka mumbles when he remembers the small toiletries bag. It's sitting in one of the corners, completely forgotten.

"I cleared up some space on the shelf for you", Momijikawa nods, "I'll be in the kitchen. How's yakisoba sound?"

The growl of Haruka's stomach answers that question, making Momijikawa chuckle on his way out of the room. He has a nice voice, Haruka can't help but think as he shuffles the few meters to the bathroom. It's deep and smooth, a little rough around the edges.

He makes quick work of the toiletries, something twisting in his stomach at the sight of his cheap toothbrush next to Momijikawa's own. What an outlandish experience this all is, Haruka kind of feels like he's having a very strange dream.

When he re-enters the hallway, the air already smells like fried noodles and Worcestershire sauce. Haruka breathes in deeply, his stomach growling once more.

"Can I, uh, help?", he comes to stand next to Momijikawa at the stove. The other is handling the pan expertly, stirring the ingredients like a proper chef. Haruka salivates. At the food, obviously.

"Nah", Momijikawa smiles at him, "Just set the table."

Haruka knows how to do that. Swiftly, he pulls out two plates and two pairs of chopsticks from where he knows they're kept. He doesn't even need the labels anymore with how often he's been here. A good thing, probably, since he lives here now.

As he places the chopsticks down, his eyes catch onto the hospital bed still set up in the living room in lieu of a couch. It stands there facing the small TV, and Haruka can't help but wonder whether Momijikawa ever watches it. Surely not, if that means he'd have to sit on his grandmother's bed? Haruka doesn't think he would do that if it was him. So, the TV is obsolete. What does Momijikawa usually do in his free time, once Haruka has gone home?

He supposes he'll find out now.

There's a heavy sigh behind him, and Haruka realizes he'd frozen deep in thought. Momijikawa places the finished bowl of yakisoba in the middle of the table before following Haruka's gaze. He's not fast enough to tear it away.

"Should probably replace that, huh?", Momijikawa mumbles, almost as if to himself. They sit down, but both of their eyes are still glued to the living room. In order to distract himself from the load-bearing silence, Haruka serves himself some of the food.

"Ya don't have to", he says gruffly, stuffing the first of the noodles into his mouth.

Huffing, Momijikawa follows his example, though he eats with a bit more decorum, not nearly as stuck up as Suo when he drinks his tea, but also not as messy and ravenous as Haruka. Normal, probably.

"She wouldn't want me to hang onto it", Momijikawa says. He doesn't sound sad or upset, his voice even and face neutral, but there's a storm of emotions inside his eyes. "If we're both going to live here, we'll need a couch."

Haruka can't argue with that.

"Still", he bites his lip, "Ya don't have to like…replace her with me."

He winces at his own words. Is this insensitive? It's not like he considers himself even nearly that important, but he felt the need to say something. Ugh, this friendship thing is still hard. It's so tricky, Haruka thinks, to express what he's feeling in words that other people will understand.

Thankfully, the people of Makochi generally attribute good intentions to people's words, and Momijikawa — at least now — is no exception. He seems to understand what Haruka meant.

"You're kind, Haruka, you know that?" Momijikawa's smile is small but genuine, a faint flush on his face, which Haruka mirrors tenfold. He begins to shake his head, but Momijikawa keeps talking. "But it's okay. I've got her urn, and her pictures. The bed will have to go eventually, it might as well be now."

So, they plan to use the weekend to fulfill their furniture shopping list:

• Couch

• Wardrobe

• Desk

• Chair

That night, Haruka sleeps better than he has in weeks.

After waking up on his familiar futon, it takes a moment before Haruka remembers where he is. The early morning sunlight is trickling in between his curtains, speckling across his face and the hardwood. The room smells vaguely of maple and cleaning agents, and Haruka just lies there for a moment.

How strange, to not be cold upon waking up, to hear no dripping faucets or worry about where to get breakfast. He likes Pothos a lot, but he can't afford to go there every day. Now, he won't have to.

"G'morning", he slouches into the kitchen. His eyes are still heavy-lidded and small yawns keep slipping from his mouth as he plops into the chair that has become his over the past weeks.

"Mornin', Haruka", Momijikawa greets him back from the stove. He's also still tired, made apparent by the slouch of his broad shoulders and the slowness of his words, but he's clearly awake enough to be cooking breakfast. The smell of pancakes is heaven to Haruka, who allows his head to drop onto the table for a few additional minutes of rest.

"C'mon, wake up", Momijikawa taps him on the head and places a plate full of thick, fluffy pancakes down. Haruka immediately attacks them with vigor. "Sugishita-san will be here soon."

They scarf down the pancakes and quickly get ready, elbows knocking as they brush their teeth at the small sink, before once again making use of Sugishita-san's generosity, and his driver's license.

They hit the town with great success.

Grandma Sato offers up her son's old wardrobe for some help with a lopsided sign, and the Akiyama family has an old desk they're not using and have been meaning to get rid of. A chair is quickly bought at a second-hand shop near Tonpu Street, a couch ordered from the same shop as it won't fit into Sugishita-san's car, and last but not least, Sugishita-san surprises them with a custom bed frame and a new mattress.

"W-what? You really don't have to -", Haruka waves his hands wildly when he is told this, cheeks blazing red, "I can't -"

"Nonsense", Sugishita-san pats his shoulder, "I insist."

Momijikawa urges him to accept the gift, so Haruka does, but it doesn't sit well in his stomach. These people are too generous, how can he ever repay them? He has nothing to offer Sugishita-san, or the Akiyamas, or Momijikawa. Worry creeps into his mind despite his best efforts, that one day they'll all realize how little he truly contributes, and how much energy and how many resources they wasted on him.

He knows, when he really thinks about it rationally, that that's not true. Haruka does his best to defend this town, and helps the townspeople with their various issues all the time. And even if he didn't, he has learned that people are sometimes just kind for kindness's sake. Still, the feeling nags at him.

So, he now has a bed.

It's strange, he thinks as Sugishita-san drives them and their spoils back to the apartment, he's never had a proper bed before. Sure, he must have slept in a crib or something when he was a baby, but a bed with a bed frame and a slatted frame? He can't recall ever being offered one. He wonders what it'll be like, so used to his futon.

They have a quick lunch — sandwiches, which Haruka helps prepare — before tackling the furniture. Obviously, it needed to be taken apart for transport, and now they'll have to put it back together. Apprehensive but determined, Haruka sorts through the various tools and nails, trying to figure out what each of them is for.

Thankfully, Momijikawa seems to be an expert at this as well. Efficiently and effortlessly, the other boy sets out the slats of wood that are going to make up Haruka's new but old wardrobe.

"What can I do?", he asks.

Contemplative, Momijikawa tilts his head for a second.

"The chair came with a manual", he points at the sheet of paper on top of the box. Since they got this one at something resembling a store, it's actually packaged. "Try building that."

With a goal to achieve, Haruka gets to work. The manual is simple enough — and really, how complicated can a chair be? — so Haruka gets the hang of it pretty quickly. His work is not as smooth as Momijikawa's, nor as fast, but screwing four legs to a surface is relatively idiot-proof.

Speaking of Momijikawa. Haruka can't help but sneak glances over at him as they work quietly in tandem. It slows his process down even further, but considering he's been given the same amount of time to build a single chair that Momijikawa has allotted himself to building an entire wardrobe, it means that he can afford it. It's just…fascinating, how capable the other boy is with his hands.

Haruka has never had the chance, nor the desire, to learn such mundane but practical household tasks. Most of his foster families wanted to forget his existence while simultaneously punishing him for it, they couldn't even tolerate his presence enough to use him as their servant. So, he doesn't know how most appliances work, and he's certainly never used a hammer or drill or any other tool.

He finds he's still not particularly interested in it. Sure, it'd be nice to be able to do it, but he doubts it'll become a hobby of his. It's tedious work, and when he looks at what Momijikawa is doing and the sheer amount of screws and identical-looking wooden parts he's working with, Haruka feels no desire to get involved. Unless Momijikawa asked him to, of course.

As he screws the last pieces of his chair in place, satisfied with his work, he catches himself looking at Momijikawa again. The frame of the wardrobe has been finished, and it seems Momijikawa is working on the doors now. He's knelt in front of his work, focused and tense, and Haruka can't help but notice how strong his back is, not to mention his arms. Of course, he knew Momijikawa was strong — he's fought him, after all — but he's never really looked.

Flushed red, he wonders why it matters. Objectively, he knows most of his friends are pretty attractive guys. After all, Kiryu and Suo are quite popular among the female population of Makochi — not that they ever reciprocate that interest, but still, Haruka can see why. Yet, somehow, it's different with Momijikawa. Something about the way his thick eyebrows furrow as the fastens the screws, and the way his biceps bulges in his black t-shirt makes him feel…weird. Warm.

Ugh, what is wrong with him?

Desperate to escape this strange situation he's found himself in, Haruka clears his throat.

"'m done", he says, "Anythin' else?"

He does feel a bit useless, asking for directions like this, but he doesn't know his way around this stuff. Normally, he'd charge ahead and just try, but he doesn't wanna mess this up. It's his first time owning furniture, after all, which Momijikawa painstakingly helped him acquire. And Haruka has been in Makochi long enough now to respect other people's effort.

Momijikawa hums in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything until he's done with the door he's working on. The wardrobe is really starting to come together.

"Can you hand me the screws?", he asks, hand pointing at one of the piles in front of Haruka, "That'd speed this up."

Nodding, Haruka sets out to do just that, gathering the little screws in his hands and coming to sit next to Momijikawa.

Bad idea.

Being this close to him, the odd feelings return tenfold, and a new blush begins to spread from Haruka's chest up to his face. Coughing a bit, he tries to think about dinner and his friends and the stray cats they saw in town as he hands Momijikawa the correct screws, looking anywhere but at the other boy's arms or hands or shoulders. What is up with him? Haruka is used to physical proximity by now, most of his friends being clingy little fuckers, but maybe this whole roommate situation is making him feel off. It'll probably take some time getting used to.

Finally, the wardrobe is finished and Haruka lets out a relieved breath. It looks great, the piece sturdy and made of shiny wood. It was clearly well-maintained by Grandma Sato and her son, Haruka will have to remember to thank them again.

"It's so big", he murmurs as he inspects it more closely. All of his clothes will fit on just one of the shelves. And out of three drawers, he knows his socks and underwear will only take up one.

Next to him, Momijikawa shrugs. "Room to grow."

With that, he takes a sip from his water bottle before starting on building the bed frame, clearly determined to get this all done within one day.

"Could you order some food for us?", Momijikawa asks him, "This won't take long."

Haruka nods, and does just that.

"The couch will arrive tomorrow", Momijikawa says when they're eating their ramen at the kitchen table later. He's a bit sweaty and obviously tired, but he seems pleased. Haruka can't believe he has a complete room now. It contains a bed and a desk and a wardrobe. A normal room. "Her bed will be picked up in the morning."

The atmosphere shifts immediately, from quiet contentment to something tender and bittersweet. Haruka's not good with that, and he feels itchy and out of place as he contemplates what to say.

"It's alright, Haruka", Momijikawa reassures him. Is it though?

He bites his lip. "Where will it go?"

Momijikawa slurps up some more of his noodles, face serious.

"I called the hospital. They sold it to us, so I'm giving it back to them. They'll probably have use for it."

At least it's not being thrown out, then. That knowledge helps alleviate some of the tension Haruka is feeling. Sometimes he misses not having anyone to care about, all of these emotions can get really exhausting.

"Good", he hides his flushed face in his noodles, desperately thinking of something else to say but coming up empty.

A comfortable, though thoughtful, silence blankets the two of them as they finish their meal, the sun setting outside the window. It's Haruka's second night here now, and it still feels like he's in a dream, or like he's just a guest. He's expecting to have to leave any moment, go back to his old apartment and forget about all of this.

How long will it take until this feels like home? What does a home even feel like? Haruka doesn't know if his old place ever became anything more to him than just his apartment. Sure, his friends made it a lot livelier with their lingering presence, but at the end of the day, Haruka's true home is Furin. He hopes this apartment can become a second one.

After all, he won't go to high school forever.

Once they've finished dinner, they work together to clean up and then part ways, each vanishing into their own bedrooms. Haruka still doesn't know what Momijikawa does in his, having only gotten a peak inside once or twice. He knows there's a bed in there, a desk and some shelves, but what hobbies Momijikawa might have remains a mystery to him.

In his own room, Haruka sits on his new bed and bounces a little. It's odd, the way the mattress moves beneath him and how high he is off the ground. It'll be nice when he's injured or sick, to not have to get up from the floor all the time. The bedsheets are Momijikawa's, as they forgot to buy any. They're a navy blue cotton, comfortable and simple. And they smell like Momijikawa's laundry detergent, something both flowery and spicy.

Haruka breathes in deeply, slowly allowing himself to shift backwards until his back meets the wall, and in the dim light of his ceiling lamp, he surveys the rest of the room.

The desk is a simple little thing, wooden and clearly on the older side, but solid. Momijikawa placed a little lamp on it, as well as some of the papers from Haruka's bag, and the one and only textbook Furin had ever issued them. Math. Ew.

The chair he must say he's quite satisfied with, having built it himself. It's nothing special, just a wooden chair with four legs and a black cushion, but still. It's nice to have contributed something.

Of course, there's also the wardrobe. It's the tallest thing in the room, standing proudly right next to the door. Momijikawa talked about maybe adding a mirror to one of its doors. Haruka doesn't know yet how he feels about that.

Sighing, he decides he's thought enough for one day. This whole thing is stirring up a lot of unwanted memories and feelings, he hasn't felt this unmoored since he arrived in Makochi and realized the truth of what Bofurin really was. It was a challenge, and still is, to integrate into this caring, proactive community, as much as he may love it. It'll be a challenge to adjust to his new living situation too, but he knows that doesn't make it a bad thing.

No, quite the opposite, he's actually pretty happy with it.

Removing the bed from the living room is a hauntingly quick process. Someone from the hospital comes over to pick it up and then, only minutes later, they're confronted with the empty space it's left behind.

Unsure of what to do, Haruka glances over at Momijikawa, trying to gauge his thoughts. He's been quiet all morning, but he always is.

"Let's clean up before the couch gets here", he says. Haruka nods along, accepting the broom he is handed. They clean up the corner diligently, neither of them making conversation as they allow the melancholy of the moment to wash over them. It's a bittersweet ending, and a new beginning. Haruka can't imagine how Momijikawa feels right now, his face not giving much away save for a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

Should he ask him if he's alright? But if the answer's no, what would he do? Haruka doesn't know how to comfort people, especially someone as hardened and tough as Momijikawa, unsure if the guy would even want him to. No, too complicated, he has to think of something else.

"Don't think so much", Momijikawa smirks at him as they put the cleaning supplies away, the door to the hall closet sliding shut, "It doesn't suit you."

Offended, Haruka whirls around to punch his arm.

"Ya callin' me stupid?"

Momijikawa laughs. It's a dry, short sound but it makes Haruka's heart feel lighter.

"If the shoe fits."

Now properly enraged, and all of his previous worries forgotten, Haruka kicks at the other boy, yelling all the while. Momijikawa returns the energy, grappling with him on the floor of their hallway, both boys alternating between harmlessly insulting each other and laughing. This is nice, Haruka can't help but think, even as he receives an elbow to the ribs, Really nice.

The play fight dissipates any tension there was, and puts a more relaxed smile on Momijikawa's face. The next time they walk into the living room, the empty space doesn't feel quite so daunting to look at anymore. Still, feeling the need to do more, Haruka decides to be a bit bold and steps up to the small altar dedicated to Momijikawa's family.

As his friends have taught him, he joins his hands in front of his body and bows his head. He feels Momijikawa's piercing gaze on the side of his face, but doesn't let it distract him. He thinks, as earnestly as he can, about what little he knows about these people. The faces in the picture frames are strangers to him, though he can trace the line of Momijikawa's jaw in his grandfather, and the set of his mouth perfectly mirrors his mother's. He can only imagine what they must have meant to Momijikawa and what their loss felt like to him, but in a way, he wants to thank them. For having been there at all, and teaching his friend love and care, as soon as it might have been taken away from him.

Solemn, he closes his eyes and wishes them well, wherever they may be now. Haruka has never been religious, or spiritual, or anything. And he has no interest in it, really. Still, he won't claim to know what happens once people die, can't say he's thought about it. It's the gesture that matters, in the end, whether the dead can sense him doing this or not is secondary.

When he reopens his eyes, he realizes Momijikawa has come to stand near him. Not next to him, not quite, he's still a bit off and when Haruka turns, he understands it's because he was watching him. Clearly lost in thought, Momijikawa doesn't stir when Haruka's eyes meet his, gaze flickering between him and the altar.

Finally, he smiles. A small, private thing tinged with sadness. Then, he steps closer and with a fleeting, barely-there touch to Haruka's hand, repeats the same motions.

The moment feels heavy and intimate, Haruka suddenly unsure whether he should be here when Momijikawa is mourning his family, but the doorbell ringing puts a stop to these thoughts. The sound is one he's still not used to, as the doorbell at his old place was perpetually broken. It jolts both of them out of the moment, and with a quick look shared, they hurry towards the door.

As the delivery guys carry the couch inside and place it down, Haruka can't help but feel impressed by the time management of this. He supposes it wouldn't have been the end of the world if the bed was still here when the couch arrived, but this all worked out so smoothly, it's almost unreal.

The room looks strange with the couch in it. It's a simple three-seater, dark green and used, but still clean. Tentative, Haruka sits on it while Momijikawa leans against a table, watching him. It's comfortable, the cushions immediately sucking him in. He leans back with a content little sigh, yelping when the couch dips beside him. Momijikawa has joined him, pressing his hands into the cushions and running his strong fingers over the corduroy fabric.

"D'ya like it?", Haruka asks as if they didn't check it out at the store the day before. Still, it's different now that it's actually here.

Nodding, Momijikawa gets back up. He surveys the room for a moment before grabbing a bag from one of the many labeled drawers. He motions for Haruka to follow him.

"Alright, let's get some groceries", he calls over his shoulders, "The fridge is almost empty."

Haruka blinks but stands up, putting on his shoes and jacket. Grocery shopping is something he's only done sparely, most of his meals having come from Pothos and the townspeople. He would only occasionally venture into a supermarket to grab some cup noodles or new shampoo. He's never been shopping with someone else, at least not for food. It seems he's going to be making lots of new experiences.

The grocery store is blessedly empty, most people preferring to stay home on a Sunday to prepare for the week ahead.

It's a nice store, one Haruka wouldn't normally have stepped foot in, the shelves lovingly stocked with fair trade goods and food packaged in paper bags instead of plastic. Just how much money does Momijikawa have? The apartment isn't that nice.

"Are ya secretly rich or somethin'?", Haruka raises an eyebrow at him as the two of them stroll through the aisles. There's a list in Momijikawa's hand, items written on it in his neat handwriting.

Momijikawa, whose other hand is holding onto the basket, snorts.

"Nah." Haruka watches him knock on a few watermelons before — seemingly arbitrarily — deciding on one. "Just care about the food I eat."

Haruka shrugs. He can't say he does, never had that privilege. Food is food, as long as it fuels his body, it's more than good enough. Still, he won't yuck Momijikawa's yum. It's not his money, after all, he's lucky he's going to be allowed to eat any of this.

Wait, should he offer to pay for some of it?

"Uh", Haruka mumbles, "Should I, like, pay -"

With a huff, Momijikawa shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

They move through the shelves strategically, picking up everything they need on a route Momijikawa has evidently perfected. He must come here a lot. Haruka watches as bags of rice and noodles join the fresh produce in their basket, which are then accompanied by canned sweet corn and a few different sauces. Damn, they must really be out of almost everything.

"Can you grab milk while I get the cheese?", Momijikawa asks him.

Haruka nods and sets off in the direction Momijikawa points him to. It can't be that hard to find milk, right? Thankfully, he spots it quickly enough. There's a few different types, and Momijikawa didn't specify which one he wanted, so he just grabs one that looks normal and doesn't cost a crazy amount. If it's wrong, it's not his fault.

Satisfied with his work, he carries the carton in one hand as he searches for his friend. On the way, he spots a shelf containing snacks out of the corner of his eye, and his legs stop moving automatically. It won't hurt to look, right?

He makes his way over there and considers the selection, his attention immediately grabbed by a bag of super spicy chips. They look absolutely ridiculous and will probably taste disgusting, but Haruka is kind of interested in the challenge aspect of it. Maybe he will get used to spicy food this way, and Togame won't tease him so much anymore.

Nodding to himself, he makes a grab for the bag but quickly realizes — embarrassing as it is — that he's not quite tall enough to reach it. For some reason, this supermarket seems to be made for giants. And in Japan of all places. If Haruka were that kind of person, he would complain about it. Still, he won't let a tall shelf stop him, so he stands on his tiptoes and stretches his arm out, still holding the milk in the other.

Suddenly, there's a chuckle to his left before a hand snatches the chips bag — the last one! — away right in front of his eyes. And he almost had it too!

Aggravated, he turns just to see Momijikawa, the other holding the bag out to him with a smirk on his face. Smug bastard. He thinks this is funny? Tall people should have less human rights, Haruka decides in this exact moment.

"Fuck off", Haruka hisses at him. He's not prideful enough not to snatch the bag from him though. Momijikawa lets him have it.

"Didn't say anything." The smirk is still on his face, the taller boy looking down his nose at Haruka. Huffing, he kicks him in the shin. It's Momijikawa's fault for standing so close just to mock him for his height. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Haruka sticks his tongue out at Momijikawa, the other chuckling, before they resume their grocery shopping. As tempting as it is, even Haruka knows they shouldn't start tussling inside of a store. Still, when he thinks back on it, the same weird warmth that he felt when he watched Momijikawa build the wardrobe returns to his face and chest. He can feel himself blush, and his throat feels like it's filled with honey — all sticky.

Until Momijikawa, he had never experienced this before. Of course, he's felt himself blush many a times, often at things his friends do. But this, this has the potential to become an actual problem.

And he doesn't even know why it happens! There's nothing about Momijikawa grabbing something off a high shelf for him that should incite this reaction. The most it should make him feel — and it does! — is mild annoyance. Ugh, he doesn't understand human bodies sometimes.

When they're at the cash register, Momijikawa, his trusty coupons in hand, doesn't hesitate to pay for Haruka's snack. He does it so quickly the younger boy doesn't even notice until the deed's already done.

"Ya didn't have to -"

Momijikawa shrugs, a teasing little smile on his face as he says: "Well, I was the one who grabbed them."

If they get into a small fight outside of the store, then that's nobody's business but theirs.

Back at the apartment, the two of them unpack their bounty together, Momijikawa directing him on where everything goes.

"What do you want to eat tonight?"

Haruka hums as he carefully stacks the bags of rice in the cabinet. Sometimes Momijikawa is so kind, Haruka doesn't really know what to do with it. It stands in such juxtaposition to his initial attitude, his lone wolf image and his introverted demeanor, that it still catches him off guard sometimes. Of course, Haruka understands why Momijikawa is the way he is and acted the way he acted, but the point stands.

"Dunno", he shrugs, "Maybe karaage? Kinda feel like it."

Momijikawa agrees easily, getting all the utensils and ingredients out. He's so efficient, so competent, it makes Haruka feel weird. He knows he's not incompetent, generally, but the kitchen and the battlefield are two very different scenarios.

Still, he doesn't want to always let Momijikawa do all the work. He lives here now, so he's got to pull his weight. Rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie, he steps up next to the other boy.

"Teach me."

A bit surprised, but eager, Momijikawa makes space for him at the counter.

"Karaage takes a while", he warns him only once, "Ready?"

Haruka nods determinedly. How hard can it be?

The raw chicken thighs are admittedly a bit gross to look at, and the texture's even worse, but Haruka powers through it. He helps Momijikawa cut and season the pieces and watches as the other prepares the marinade. It's impressive, the way he doesn't even have to look up a recipe despite the pile of cookbooks taking up residence on one of the counters.

"Let me show you the marinading", Momijikawa adds the chicken into the bowl with the reddish-brown concoction, shoving his bare hands into it once more. Haruka shudders lightly. "It's very easy."

He coats the chicken in the marinade, mixing it around in the bowl, before covering it and putting it in the fridge.

"We have half an hour now", Momijikawa says as he washes his hands in the kitchen sink, "Let's prepare the other stuff."

This Haruka can do. He is tasked with putting the rice in the rice cooker and seasoning it, while Momijikawa grabs a pan and sautés some vegetables for them. While Haruka's face still scrunches up at the sight, he's really grown used to the presence of vegetables in his meals. And most of the time, they're not that bad anymore.

Once this is done, Momijikawa prepares two plates, each with some white powder on them. He thinks it's starch or something?

"Alright, now we dredge it", Momijikawa washes his hands again and pulls the chicken out of the fridge. Haruka is a little distracted by how dexterous and strong the other boy's hands are as he shows him how this works, coating the chicken in both the flour — that's what it is! — and the starch.

It doesn't look hard to do at all, even after only partially paying attention, so Haruka feels ready to give it a go.

"Let me try."

Determined to impress his roommate, Haruka diligently dredges the chicken pieces, making sure they're evenly coated and that no excess is falling off of them as he lifts them up. It takes him a good bit longer than it did Momijikawa, his hands not nearly as sure and his movements much clumsier, but he gets it done.

Proud, he claps his hands, the flour blowing into his face and onto the floor. Behind him, Momijikawa chuckles.

"Good job, Haruka", he praises him. While he sounds amused, the compliment seems genuine, causing Haruka to blush furiously. God, he's so predictable.

Still, he murmurs a quiet Whatever, thanks before shaking his hands right in front of Momijikawa. The white flour lands on his face and his black t-shirt, staining it. He looks funny like this, his smirk wiped off his face, and Haruka can't help but burst into laughter.

It's not something that happens frequently, even now. He smiles a lot these days, small and private upticks of the lips, and occasionally a chuckle or even a loud laugh will escape him, but it never lasts long.

Now, though, he can't control himself for some reason. It's not even that funny, but something about this whole situation, combined with Momijikawa's stoic face speckled with white dust, and the blotchy spots of flour on his chest, flip a switch in his brain.

Momijikawa grumbles for a moment before conceding to light chuckles himself, clearly influenced by Haruka's rare outburst. Not one to be outdone, he dips his hands into the remaining flour and throws it into Haruka's face with deadly precision.

He's still laughing, so part of it gets into his mouth, causing him to choke unattractively. A few sips of water, and the fight is on.

Haruka levels a glare at the other boy, small peals of laughter still falling from his lips as he retaliates. He wonders what the neighbors think as the boys start distributing flour and starch all over the kitchen and each other, laughing and yelling all the while. At some point, they once again end up wrestling with each other, trying to get punches and kicks in where they can.

"Ha! I win!", Haruka gloats when he pins Momijikawa to the floor, sitting on his chest. Childishly, he sticks his tongue out at the other boy before dropping down to lie beside him on the hardwood.

They must make a funny sight, the two of them covered in flour from head to toe, hair tousled and faces red, the kitchen around them a huge mess.

"We're gonna have to clean that up", Momijikawa says. Honestly, Haruka is surprised he let it get this far, he knows Momijikawa's least favorite thing is a messy room. He's glad though, the guy's gotta let himself be a teenager every one in a while.

"The food!", Haruka suddenly remembers. Fuck the kitchen, they've got chicken to make. His stomach growls, as if it also realized this just now.

Groaning, Momijikawa gets off the floor, murmuring expletives to himself.

Quickly, they wipe themselves off as well as they can, unilaterally deciding to fix everything up later, and quickly prepare the oil for deep frying.

"Right", Momijikawa coughs, "We gotta do this twice, pay attention."

Still stifling the occasional giggle, Haruka attempts to focus. Thankfully, this step's not hard at all. They drop a few pieces of chicken into the boiling oil until they're a light brown, then take them out to dry and do the next batch. Like this, they work through all of the pieces, and then do it all again. For some reason.

"You cooked something", Momijikawa says as he prepares the food for consumption, plating the rice and vegetables along with generous heaping of their karaage. It smells so good, Haruka can barely hold himself back from attacking the food right this second. "Good job, Haruka."

As usual, Haruka blushes to the roots of his hair. He didn't even do much, Momijikawa guiding the process and doing the hard work, but still. The thought that he contributed, that he helped cook an actual meal for them — not cup ramen or microwave dinner — warms his chest with pride.

"'t'wasn't that hard…", he mumbles, shoving the first piece of karaage into his mouth. It immediately breaks him out of his embarrassed grumbling, eyes lighting up and cheeks round.

"Whoa!", he exclaims in wonder, "This is so good!"

Across from him, Momijikawa chuckles and bites into his own food. He hums, content.

"Thanks", Haruka finally says. His voice has gone quiet again but he's retaining eye contact, as much as he wants to just keep stuffing his face. "This was…fun."

Seemingly a bit embarrassed himself, if the light pink of Momijikawa's cheekbones is anything to go by, the other boy smiles warmly.

"Anytime."

The weeks continue much like this. Haruka learns how to cook a variety of new meals, with varying levels of success, and he begins to grow truly comfortable in his new home.

After a while, the two of them even take to sitting on the couch together after dinner instead of leaving to hang out in their own rooms. Often, Momijikawa will have a book in hand while Haruka fucks around on his phone. Sometimes they'll just chat, play a game, or watch TV.

And though most of the labels vanish with time, Haruka learns where everything goes. For some things, the two of them create a new spot together. He learns, for the first time, how to keep a place clean and tidy, and finds joy in it. Never will he be quite as organized as Momijikawa, but the two of them cleaning the apartment together on Sunday mornings, mopping the floors and doing the laundry, has become a little tradition Haruka cherishes despite himself.

It's a Sunday just like that when Haruka once again realizes that he doesn't have nearly as many clothes as a normal person probably should. It's not usually a problem since he wears his school uniform pretty much every day, but now it has become one.

You see, there was a fight the other day. And the day before that. And — Okay, basically, a new gang has been stirring up some trouble, and Bofurin has been busy kicking their asses on and off the clock. So now, because Haruka is not exactly careful when he fights, he's got a bunch of torn and dirtied up clothes. And by a bunch he means all of them.

Not a single white shirt of his has been spared, nor any of his pants. Not even his uniform pants or his sweatpants are clean. To most normal people, this would sound crazy, but Haruka only owns like five shirts and maybe two pairs of pants.

So here he is, on laundry day, in a dirty shirt and his briefs, which were thankfully spared the harsh treatment.

"That shirt needs to be washed too." Momijikawa points at it, eyebrow raised from where he's crouching by the washing machine. Blushing, Haruka shuffles his feet. What does Momijikawa expect him to do exactly? Spend hours walking around the apartment in only his underwear? His head feels like it's going to explode from how hot it is.

"I don't have anythin' else to wear!", he crosses his arms, "D'ya want me to be naked or somethin'?"

Momijikawa's cheeks redden at the accusation, but his facial expression remains neutral when he suggests: "Just wear some of mine."

"Huh?", Haruka blushes wildly. "T-that's -"

"You've done it before", Momijikawa shrugs, getting up off the floor and suddenly towering over him, "Not a big deal."

Technically, Haruka knows that's true. After all, they have done this before, but back then Haruka was soaking wet and it was — it was just different. Somehow.

"Embarrassed that they're too big on you?", Momijikawa teases him and oh, Haruka's not gonna let him win this one. He doesn't care! That's not what this is about. Also, it'd be way more embarrassing to wear clothes that are too small rather than ones that are too big. Oversized clothes are cool, right? Kiryu likes them. So really, maybe Momijikawa should wear one of Haruka's shirts sometimes, see how he likes it.

"As if", he hisses back, "I'll wear the fuck outta yer stupid clothes."

Scoffing in amusement, Momijikawa leaves the bathroom to presumably grab a change of clothes. For a moment, Haruka just stands there. Should he get undressed already? But then he'd be cold and…exposed. Nah, he'd rather wait for Momijikawa to bring the shirt, and then he can change in private. Duh.

A small pile of fabric is dumped into his arms when Momijikawa returns. He spots the red still present on Haruka's cheeks and chuckles again, smile smug.

"Start the washing machine when you're done, yeah?", he asks. Haruka is weirdly relieved that it seems he's going to leave him to it. Thankfully, he taught Haruka how to work the washing machine a few weeks ago, so he will be able to fulfill this request no problem. He says as much, and Momijikawa leaves without further ado.

Finally, he takes the t-shirt off. It's the least dirty one he has left, but even so, it's stained with blood — not his own — and unidentified brown dirt. He wrinkles his nose and quickly shoves it into the machine, adding the laundry detergent and turning it on. The soft hum of it starting up settles him a little, Haruka himself not sure why he's so agitated. He contemplates as he fiddles with the clothes. Why was he so reluctant to undress in front of Momijikawa anyway? In the summer, he went to the beach with his whole class and had no problem being shirtless around them. What's different about this?

Honestly, Haruka's not sure. Maybe it's just that the context is different, or that something about Momijikawa specifically always makes him feel strange. He can't describe it, the other boy hasn't done anything wrong, and it's not even like the feeling is necessarily bad. Ugh. This is all so confusing, and Haruka quickly decides he's actually had enough of thinking about it. If it's important, he'll figure it out eventually. If not, it'll fix itself.

Now, he pulls the shirt on first. It's navy blue and even bigger than the one from last time — seems Momijikawa didn't pick out the "smallest" clothes he owns today. It's not so bad though, the fabric is soft and smells good, earthy and musky like Momijikawa. Haruka can't help but sniff it. It will do.

The sweatpants are too long, so he rolls them up at the ankles and ties the waistband as tight as it will go. There, also fine. Finally, he pulls the gray zip-up hoodie on, the sleeves covering his hands. It's cozy, so he ignores the tingling flush of his face and exits the bathroom. Momijikawa better not fucking make fun of him again, or else.

On the way to the kitchen, he grabs some more cleaning supplies he knows they'll need from the hall closet. When he walks into the room, Momijikawa is assiduously wiping down the kitchen counters, but he looks up when he hears Haruka's footfalls.

Haruka expects him to chuckle, or even just don that infuriating, smug grin of his, but the other boy just sort of…freezes. Eyes wider than usual, Momijikawa stares at him as his face slowly changes color. Haruka's eyebrows furrow. Is he alright? Did he move too quickly or something?

Taking a step closer, Haruka is about to slap him in an attempt to rip Momijikawa out of whatever trance he's found himself in, when the boy manages to get a grip by himself. He clears his throat and straightens up, avoiding Haruka's eyes as he quickly goes back to his work.

Okay. Odd.

"Looking good", Momijikawa comments. It's meant to be teasing, clearly, but it comes out a little strained. Haruka doesn't rise to the bait for once, still a bit confused. "Can you mop the floor?"

Shrugging, Haruka lets it go. If something was actually wrong, he'd like to believe Momijikawa would tell him, so he just does as he's told and dips the mop into the bucket.

They exist in this weird limbo for the rest of the day, Momijikawa alternating between acting normal and avoiding his eyes, red staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears. There's no further attempts to tease him for the oversized clothes, which Haruka finds suspicious, but when he brings it up, Momijikawa insists he's just tired.

Being best friends with Suo, Haruka has learned to tell when someone is lying. Well, sometimes. But he's certain Momijikawa is not actually tired. Whatever's going on with him must be making him uncomfortable though and he doesn't seem willing to share, so Haruka leaves it be, even as curiosity smolders inside of him. He won't force him to explain himself, as long as no one's in any danger.

They retire to their rooms a little earlier than usual, and if Haruka lies in his bed, reading up on the group chat with his friends while his nose is buried in the borrowed hoodie, then nobody but himself has to know.

The next day, a new problem presents itself.

Or, well. Haruka supposes it's an old problem with new consequences. He still has no clothes.

Momijikawa's apartment does not come with a dryer and unfortunately, the clothing they hung up yesterday has failed to dry quickly enough. So, Haruka has no school uniform, or anything else. He's still wearing the clothes Momijikawa lent him the day before as he pats down his shirts and pants but it's to no avail, they do not magically become less soppy.

"This'll be fine", he tells Momijikawa, who eyes him skeptically, "They're just a little wet."

Immediately, Momijikawa shakes his head. His arms are crossed, and Haruka once again can't help but be the slightest bit distracted by their strength, his forearms bulging from the way they're stacked.

"Haruka", he sighs, "It's raining outside, you'll catch a cold."

He's not wrong. The temperatures have been dropping steadily, and soon rain will turn into snow. Haruka doesn't have the best immune system on a good day, so going outside with damp clothes is essentially a death sentence. Still, what other choice does he have?

He says as much.

"Look", Momijikawa pulls a semi-dry pair of jeans from the drying rack, "I can blow-dry these a bit, some wetness on your legs won't get you sick as easily."

Haruka nods. Seems reasonable.

"Should I blow-dry one of the shirts then?"

Momijikawa shakes his head.

"We only have one blow-dryer, and it takes too long. You can't wear my pants to school, they'll hinder you", a hand comes up to pull slightly on the collar of the shirt Haruka is still sporting, "But you can wear one of my hoodies."

Haruka's body shows off its best impression of a living tomato in reaction to this suggestion. It's outrageous! He can't just — He can't wear Momijikawa's clothes to school.

"I won't have a Furin jacket", he mumbles. It's a weak argument, he knows that.

So does Momijikawa. "You're recognizable enough that you should be fine without one for a single day."

And so it's settled.

Still bright red, Haruka indeed leaves the house in slightly damp jeans and one of Momijikawa's thick, dark gray hoodies. It's not uncomfortable, far from it, but Haruka can already picture the interrogation he's about to suffer once he sets foot in the classroom. Momijikawa is so lucky, his classmates won't pester him at all. They never do, as far as he can tell.

Like clockwork, his friends crowd him the second he enters their classroom. He seems to be the last one, a good bit of time having been wasted on drying the pants, so everyone else is already there and ready to ambush him.

"Sakura-san!", Nirei looks him up and down, already reaching for his notebook, "Where's your uniform?"

"Yeah", Kiryu tilts his head with a smirk, "That hoodie's awfully big on you, Sakura-chan. Is it new?"

Huffing, Haruka attempts to ignore their questioning, as well as the burning stares from the rest of his classmates, and resolutely sits down in his chair.

"Did something happen to your clothes, Sakura-kun?", Tsugeura seems genuinely concerned.

Haruka flits his eyes between his friends' stupid faces, the matching devilish grins on Suo's and Kiryu's bringing his blush back full force. Assholes.

"Ugh", he grunts, "'s nothin'. My clothes just ain't dry yet so Momijikawa lent me some, whatever."

Several astonished gasps ring out in the classroom, making it evident that all 29 of his classmates have been listening in. God, is it a slow news day or something? What's it matter to them what he's wearing? They're just clothes. It's not like he showed up in a clown outfit.

"Scandalous, Sakura-kun. Sharing clothes already?", Suo tuts, "Well, I suppose you do live together."

Haruka doesn't know what he means by that, but he glares at him anyway. Before they can get into it, Nirei intercepts.

"That's so kind of Momijikawa-san!", he smiles but there's something off about it, "He's a really good…friend."

Why Nirei puts such a meaningful emphasis on that word, Haruka doesn't know. They are friends, roommates even, it's not like that was a secret.

"What's the big deal? 's not like it's the first time."

Silence.

Haruka blinks, and rapidly turns even redder when he realizes what he's just admitted. That's certainly not going to deescalate the situation. Whatever weird, convoluted thing the others are thinking, this will only make it so much worse.

Really, Haruka doesn't get why he's so embarrassed, it is merely clothes after all. Just last week, he saw Suo lend Nirei his own jacket to wear, and no one made this big of a fuss about it. He knows everyone's a bit weirder about him specifically, something about his stray cat vibes as Anzai put it once, but still. This is a little overkill, is it not?

"I'm sorry", Nirei opens and closes his mouth not unlike a fish, "What? When did that happen?"

This blush might as well be tattooed on Haruka's face with how permanent it's become. He clears his throat and leans back in his chair, affecting an air of nonchalance that he hopes will transfer to his classmates. It doesn't work, probably because he's still clearly tense.

"After we fought", he shrugs, "We got wet and he invited me over, so he gave me some clothes to wear."

Visibly intrigued, his friends lean ever closer. Nirei's elbows end up on Haruka's desk, and Kiryu's getting a little too cozy with his shoulder. Suo's smile is dangerously mischievous, Haruka can feel the hairs on his arms stand on edge.

"Is that so?", Suo asks, "How forward."

Kiryu nods, an equally annoying grin pulling at his lips. "Very bold."

With Nirei scribbling away in his notebook, and Tsugeura looking like he's thinking way harder than someone like him ever should, Haruka decides he's had more than enough of this.

"Y'all are fuckin' weird", he rolls his eyes, "Anyway, I should probably get some more clothes."

This catches his friends' attention immediately. Hook, line and sinker.

"Oh!", Nirei bounces in his chair, "Mall trip!"

The others nod in agreement, quickly moving on to picking out the perfect time for such an expedition. Already, Kiryu and Nirei are discussing what cuts and colors would suit Haruka best, and he briefly regrets his decision.

Oh well, he does need the clothes, and this is better than what they were discussing before.

The mall is packed when they get there.

It's a Thursday afternoon, Tamon team off patrol for the day, but it seems the population of Makochi likes to shop every day of the week.

"So what are we looking for, Sakura-san?", Nirei asks. He's dressed in a patterned button-up and suspenders.

Looking down at himself, Haruka shrugs noncommittally. He's back to wearing his now-dry white t-shirt and jeans combo, a black zip-up hoodie thrown on top of it. His own, this time.

"Same as usual", he answers.

Clearly, this is the wrong thing to say. Nirei breathes out through his nose and shakes his head, hand coming to grasp Haruka's wrist and leading him in the direction of some colorful shop. The others follow obediently.

"We can get you some simple shirts, but let's try some new things as well!"

Haruka has no desire to try anything new fashion-wise. He's not nearly as interested in the topic as Nirei or Kiryu, and he's got no strong personal style like Suo. What he wears has always been about being practical, cheap and easy to move in. He doesn't need clothes to stand out any more, and he can't pretend to be a big risk taker when it comes to his appearance either.

Still, Nirei has one lethal pair of puppy eyes, and it won't hurt to try. He doesn't have to buy anything he hates. Reluctantly, he nods.

"Yay!", Nirei cheers and starts looking through racks of clothing in earnest, "Let's see."

Feeling helpless, he leaves Nirei to mumble to himself, wandering farther into the store to find the uni-colored t-shirts. He picks up a few white and black ones in his size, and some sweaters as well, for when it's cold. Satisfied, he moves to the next section to pick out a few pairs of jeans as well. This is enough, why would he want anything more?

Unfortunately, Nirei's arms are stacked when Haruka returns to him. Dread spreads through his bloodstream, and he can feel Suo's amused smirk from where he's standing to his left. Kiryu and Tsugeura are long gone, seemingly searching for things for themselves.

"Time for a fashion show, Sakura-kun", Suo smiles at him. He kind of wants to punch him but Nirei yelps in excitement and begins dragging the two of them towards the dressing rooms, and well, neither of them has ever been great at denying Nirei anything.

For the next half an hour, Haruka suffers through a variety of outfits ranging from decent to frankly ridiculous. At one point, Nirei makes him put on a fluffy yellow sweater and pink shorts. It feels like he's being used as a dress up doll.

However, there are a few pieces he doesn't mind so much. A purple hoodie with a design of a cat on it, for example. As well as a pair of pre-ripped jeans. It's a strange concept to him, but they look cool, so whatever. He just hopes they won't rip even further.

"One more!", Nirei giggles as he hands him the clothes, and Haruka heaves a deep breath. He's almost done with this, and then they can go to the food court.

Expecting something unsightly, Haruka is surprised when he looks down and finds a more muted color scheme staring back at him, black and blue. Huh. Is Nirei's last choice sensible after all?

When he holds the first item up, he realizes quickly that it's not sensible at all. To a regular person, it wouldn't be that scandalous, but Haruka's face heats up at the thought of wearing this. It's a black top, a tank top he thinks it's called? It would leave his arms and collarbones bare, and it's so tight! Also, it seems a bit too short? How much skin does Nirei want him to show?

Still, he promised to give it all a try, even though his patience is wearing thin, so he grumbles to himself as he puts it on. It's a weird sensation, his clothes never this tight-fitting, but it's not awful. He was right about the length too, the top leaving a good bit of his lower stomach exposed. Is this right?

The pants Nirei has picked out to go along with this are thankfully just denim shorts. Relieved, he pulls those on quickly, trying to rack them up as far as they'll go to cover more of his skin, but it's to no avail, the pants clearly supposed to sit lower on the hips. He sighs.

In the mirror, he looks a little like one of those idols Tsubaki likes. Obviously, he's not nearly as attractive, but the outfit is reminiscent of the ones in the videos they've forced him to watch. It's definitely not something he could wear around town, Grandma Sato might have a heart attack.

"Sakura-san?", Nirei's concerned voice breaks through his thoughts, "You alright in there?"

Taking a deep breath, Haruka stomps out from behind the dressing room curtain. In front of him, Nirei and Suo sit on a little couch, staring up at him with their big eyes. Haruka immediately feels his ears heat up at their attention, even worse now than with all the previous outfits.

"Wow!", Nirei claps his hands, "You look great, Sakura-san!"

Humming, Suo tilts his head as he considers him as well. The look in his eye is calculating. "It suits you, I'm sure Momijikawa-kun will like it."

For that, he receives an elbow to the ribs from Nirei, the other boy reprimanding him with a hissed "Suo-san!". Confused and bashful, Haruka crosses his arms. What the fuck does Momijikawa have to do with any of this? Why would he even care what Haruka wears? His friends are so weird about his relationship to his roommate, one would think they're not used to Haruka having friends yet, but they don't act like this with anybody else.

"You should totally get it", Nirei smiles at him as though nothing just happened.

Haruka shuffles his feet. "I dunno, isn't it a bit too…revealing?"

"You're a good-looking guy, Sakura-san!", Nirei says. Haruka's blush deepens further. He doesn't understand why his friends say things like that, he knows what he looks like. "You should show that off! Still, I won't press you if it truly makes you uncomfortable."

Sighing, Haruka thinks about it. He supposes it's not that bad, and it might be nice in the summer, when the temperatures really shoot up. The shorts are nice, only showing his shins anyway, and if he never does feel brave enough to wear the top, he could always utilize it as an undershirt. So, eager to be done with this without disappointing his vice captain, Haruka agrees to get this outfit too.

At the food court, Haruka forgets about his friends' weirdness for a while, way too busy stuffing his face with fries and chicken nuggets. Sadly, it seems they feel the urge to remind him of it.

"So, Sakura-chan", Kiryu twirls the straw of his milkshake between his delicate fingers, "How's living with Momi-chan been?"

Relatively innocuous question. His classmates have occasionally brought the topic of his new living situation up, asking him if he's comfortable and if the two boys are getting along. He always answered in the affirmative and assumed the excitement had passed. Seems he was wrong.

"Good", he grunts. He has no interest in telling them every detail.

"Aw, c'mon", Kiryu pouts, "Give us more than that!"

Tsugeura nods enthusiastically. "Yes! Momijikawa-kun seems like a guy with great virtue, I'd like to know how he lives!"

Creepy, but Haruka knows his friend well enough by now to understand how he means it.

"Don't feel forced to share, Sakura-kun", Suo smiles at him, a gentle one this time, "But we are curious."

Nirei just nods, clearly itching to go for his notebook.

Man, his friends are a bunch of weirdos, but they're good guys. If they're really this curious about it, then Haruka reckons there's no harm in indulging them a little. He suspects they just want to hear that he's doing well and not just pretending everything's fine again. Not that Haruka can really lie to save his life.

"It's good", he coughs a bit, "Really good. I've got actual furniture now, and Momijikawa's been teachin' me to cook."

Even though he hasn't said much, his friends seem deeply invested, food and drinks forgotten as they lean in close to him. Haruka feels a blush blossoming on his face, but he soldiers on.

"I dunno, we clean and watch TV and stuff. Sometimes we fight, but like for fun." He's not really sure what else to say. They live pretty normal lives, he can't imagine it's really that intriguing. "'s cool, to have someone around. T'was pretty awkward at first, but we've gotten used to each other, I think."

His friends' overeager smiles have softened into something almost tender by the time he's done speaking. They look satisfied, quiet pride shining in their eyes as they gaze at him. It makes him feel itchy all over, so Haruka avoids their stares, burying his face in his cooled down food once more.

"I'm really glad", Nirei speaks up, "You deserve to have a comfortable home, Sakura-san."

"Yes", Suo adds, "We're happy for you."

Embarrassed, Haruka just shrugs. But in the privacy of his own mind, he can admit he's pretty happy too.

Sleep is something that usually comes easy to Haruka.

For the longest time, it was his only escape. Darkness and sleep allowed him to forget about what he looked like, the way people stared at him, treated him, berated him. When he was asleep, he didn't have to answer to anyone.

Still, nightmares tended to plague him. Not every night, not even most of them, but when they did arrive, they often left him reeling. It was never the sort of nightmare other people complain about, no scary monsters or murderers or rooms of people who've forgotten about his existence.

No, it was always that goddamn tightrope. Him, all alone and terrified to fall as blurry faces and sharp voices throw all-too familiar insults at him. It doesn't sound that scary just recounting it, but when he wakes from these dreams, it always takes a while for him to remember where he is, and to feel real again.

Since he's fully accepted his place at Furin, the dream has become a very rare thing, almost forgotten. Unfortunately, old insecurities love to rear their heads at the most random of times. One such time happens to be tonight, leaving Haruka wide awake in his bed at three in the morning.

The apartment is quiet, only the wind making any noise at all. His bed, now not so new anymore, is warm and comfortable, but Haruka feels cold. Rationally, he knows that he's safe, that his friends love him and can be trusted. Emotionally, he feels agitated and childishly, embarrassingly hurt. Stupid.

For a few minutes, he continues to toss and turn, but it becomes quickly apparent that his body will not succumb to sleep again any time soon. He groans, face pressed into the pillow, before sitting up. His feet touch the cool floor, jolting him even further into wakefulness. The room is dark, faint light from the streetlamps outside creeping in through a crack in the curtains, illuminating the bed in a hazy gray.

Yawning, Haruka realizes his throat is parched. Kitchen it is. He pads across the hallway, hoping that Momijikawa is a heavy sleeper, and slides the door to the living area open. It creaks just a little.

The light is on.

Haruka blinks dazedly. Why is the light on?

"Haruka?", Momijikawa's voice reaches him. At the kitchen table, his roommate is slumped into one of the chairs, a glass of water in front of him. "Did I wake you up?"

His mouth doesn't seem to work, mind too busy adapting to this unexpected scenario to form words. He manages to shake his head. Momijikawa looks tired, short hair rumpled and a mark on his cheek. His t-shirt is dark and soft, clinging loosely to his strong frame.

Remaining wordless for now, Haruka grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it with cold water. The sink is loud in the quietude of the room, everything dimly lit by the standing lamp in the corner.

"Sorry", Haruka mumbles when he sits down as well, "Can't sleep?"

Taking a sip of his own water, Momijikawa makes a noncommittal noise. He seems to think about his response for just a moment before giving it.

"Nightmare."

Huh. Haruka supposes he shouldn't be surprised. They've all been through some crazy shit, Momijikawa most of all, so it stands to reason that the majority of his classmates would have some disturbing dreams every once in a while. Still, it's never occurred to him.

For a moment, Haruka considers the easy vulnerability Momijikawa extends to him. He's admitting a weakness, but he's nonchalant and unbothered in a way Haruka rarely ever is.

Does he trust him that much? Or does it just not matter to him if anyone knows?

"Me too."

Haruka swallows, the admission bitter on his tongue. But he doesn't take it back, feels no desire to.

Understanding, Momijikawa nods. They don't talk about it any further, neither willing to discuss the specifics. So, they drink their water and revel in the comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

The buzzing under Haruka's skin fails to fade, even with the company. He feels a burning desire to go outside and find some asshole to beat up, so pent up that he can't think of anything else to do. These past months, he's been learning how to deal with his emotions in more productive ways, but this specific feeling is one he's never been able to get rid of without a good fight.

"Hey", Haruka refocuses his gaze on Momijikawa. The other boy is already looking back at him, dark shadows under his eyes like bruises. Has Momijikawa been losing sleep? Is this not the first night he's had nightmares? How did Haruka not notice? "Wanna take this outside?"

He assumes Momijikawa will understand what he means by that. His roommate rolls his shoulders before standing up, nodding at him with a faint smile on his face that vanishes as soon as it appears.

They throw on their jackets and head outside. The air is cold and crisp, their breaths visible in the night like smoke. Winter has truly arrived now. He wonders, faintly, what activities his classmates will urge him to try once the first snowfall makes a home in Makochi. He's sure they'll be eager to build snowmen or go ice skating — Haruka should mentally prepare himself for that.

It doesn't take long for them to reach the bridge they first fought at. Just like that night, the still waters of the river reflect the silver moon, waning now instead of full. Around them, the trees have lost their leaves and stand barren, their shadows ominous in the dark. Weirdly, it makes Haruka feel at home.

Without speaking, both of them slip out of their jackets and place them on the steps they once rested Momijikawa's grandmother on. They'll be cold, maybe even fall ill, but the thick winter jackets would restrain their movements too much to fight properly, and a proper fight is what they both seem to need.

The atmosphere between them is strange as they get into position. They're such close friends now, even Haruka can admit that, but tonight it's clear they're both reverting to old habits, hardened and angry and desperate for distraction in the form of pain.

Under the cover of night, Haruka thinks, they can let themselves have this.

So they charge at each other, Haruka using his flexibility and smaller stature to twist out of the way and aim a swift kick at Momijikawa's stomach. The other quickly grabs his ankle but Haruka was prepared for that, making use of the lasting momentum to swing himself around and kick Momijikawa with his other leg. It causes him to fall onto his own back, but he lands with finesse and keeps going, really pumped up now. The adrenaline coursing through his veins and the freezing air nipping painfully at his flushed skin are already making him feel better, his brain blissfully silent.

Momijikawa seems to feel the same, as he begins to grin when they advance on each other again. He lands a mean punch to Haruka's collarbone, throwing him off balance, and Haruka counters with a fist to the taller boy's solar plexus. They both gasp for air but their limbs never stop moving.

Neither boy wears a watch so they're not sure how much time has passed when they eventually end up on the floor, bruised and bleeding but satisfied. They breathe heavily in tandem, chests rising and falling, as they allow the bite of the cold concrete to bring them back to reality.

Something wet touches Haruka's nose, making it scrunch up. He blinks up at the black sky, the stars obscured by dark gray clouds, when it happens again.

"Snow", Momijikawa says next to him. It's the first word either of them has spoken since leaving the apartment, and his voice is breathy and raspy. It also holds something like relief. "It's snowing."

And it is, Haruka realizes. The accumulating wetness on his face is indeed due to small, watery snowflakes dropping onto him. They're barely visible in the darkness unless he really focuses, more rain than snow. Still, it feels oddly symbolic. If Haruka were a more poetic boy, he might have something profound to say about it.

Alas.

"Let's go inside", Momijikawa speaks up again.

A part of Haruka wants to refuse, but rationally, he knows they really ought to go. They'll be lucky if they're not both down for the count tomorrow.

"Yeah", Haruka shakes his head to detach the more stubborn snowflakes, and slowly gets up, "Let's."

His body aches with every step, Momijikawa's groans signaling to Haruka that he's in a similar state. It doesn't bother him though, he actually kind of likes it. What does make him wince is the realization that he's going to have to explain this to his friends tomorrow.

When they enter the apartment again, the silence of the rooms isn't quite as oppressive anymore, and the dark corners are once again familiar. Haruka still doesn't feel tired.

"Go change", Momijikawa instructs him, "I'll make something to eat."

Seems neither of them is planning on returning to bed tonight.

Quickly, Haruka puts on a dry t-shirt and sweatpants and washes his hands with hot water. In the bathroom, he checks over his body to see if anything needs to be patched up, but the damage mostly consists of bruises, any cuts already beginning to close. Still, he grabs the first aid kit and takes it with him to the kitchen in case Momijikawa needs it.

"D'ya need band-aids or somethin'?", Haruka asks when he plops himself down at the kitchen table. It's amazing what a cathartic fight can do, he felt so different sitting in this same spot only an hour or two ago.

At the stove, Momijikawa is stirring something in a small pot. He shrugs minutely.

"I don't know."

Rolling his eyes, Haruka painstakingly gets up again to walk over to him. Peering into the pot, he can guess their meal is going to be miso soup. Momijikawa has never made that for him before.

A bit shy but determined, Haruka checks over any visible skin of Momijikawa's he can see, making sure there's no actively bleeding wounds that require immediate attention.

There, a cut on his elbow, probably from his arm meeting the floor. It's not large, but it's a bit too deep for the bleeding to have stopped yet, small rivulets of red running down Momijikawa's arm like raindrops on a car window.

"Don't move", is all the warning Haruka gives him before he grabs the first aid kit. Placing it on the counter, he pulls out the small bottle of disinfectant, holding onto Momijikawa's arm to keep it steady, and sprays it on the cut. He can feel himself blush at their proximity, at Momijikawa's cold, smooth skin under his fingers and the dormant power of his muscles. Yet, he powers through.

Next, he snatches a band-aid from the bag and carefully places it over the wound. His hands are shaking the tiniest bit, but he gets the job done, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

When he looks up, Momijikawa is staring at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly slack. He's stopped stirring, and his cheeks are redder than they should be, considering that they've left the cold behind them by now. Unsure as to why, Haruka's blush intensifies to match, his hands becoming shakier as he attempts to retain a cool demeanor.

"What?", he hisses. Very cool.

Momijikawa clears his throat and shakes his head, swiftly turning back to the soup. He swallows heavily before addressing Haruka again, though he avoids his eyes.

"Thanks", he says.

With annoyance, Haruka realizes that the cut isn't the only problem that needs fixing. While Momijikawa sent him off to get changed, he is still wearing dirty, damp clothes himself. Sighing, Haruka pushes him away from the stove. He doesn't put much strength into the action, so Momijikawa doesn't budge at first, but when he realizes Haruka is serious about whatever he's planning, he gives in and steps aside.

"Go get changed", Haruka shoos him away, "I can stir."

A deep chuckle raises Haruka's heckles, his skin itchy and too hot. He glares at the other boy, daring him to mock or refuse him, but Momijikawa only shakes his head.

"You don't need to stir", he points at a cutting board, pieces of tofu on it, "Just add the tofu. I'll be right back."

Haruka coughs but does as he's told, listening to Momijikawa's footsteps as he hurries into his bedroom.

He does return quickly, now sporting a dry t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Haruka steps away from the stove and lets Momijikawa finish the soup while he grabs two bowls on autopilot. The quiet clinking of the dishware, the buzzing of the lamp and Momijikawa's even breathing suddenly make Haruka feel awfully tired.

But no, he must stay awake now. Maybe he can get some shut-eye in once they've eaten. If not, he'll just take a nap at school. No one will dare to wake him, especially if they see him bruised up.

A glance at the clock tells Haruka it's 4:30 am by the time they sit down to eat, the miso soup steaming in their bowls. The smell is mild and adds to the cozy atmosphere that's built up between them without their permission.

"Thanks for the meal", Haruka murmurs before he dips his spoon into the liquid, making sure it's loaded with tofu and seaweed before he stuffs it into his mouth. Content, he hums. It's good.

Across from him, Momijikawa tentatively blows on the soup and then begins eating as well. There's an oddly shiny look in his eyes.

"You know", he says quietly, "My grandma used to wait up for me when I went out seeking fights."

Haruka nods, waiting for him to finish his thoughts.

"She would always sit here, miso soup ready for me", Momijikawa smiles wryly, "I never could get mine to taste as good as hers, but I guess it's edible now."

Nodding again, Haruka more than agrees.

"'s really good."

Momijikawa's answering laugh comes across a little self-deprecating. "You're only saying that 'cause you haven't had hers."

It's stupid, and Haruka doesn't know what possesses him to say it, but without thinking, he asks: "Did ya dream about her?"

Thankfully, the question doesn't destroy the mood, or Momijikawa's openness. The other boy just shakes his head, contemplative.

"Not this time", he admits, still carefully spooning up mouthfuls of soup, "I found my grandfather, you know? After he took his own life."

Oh.

"It's…", Momijikawa shrugs, "A hard image to get out of my head. Some nights, I dream that it happens again and again, him just hanging there. And then I turn and there's my mom collapsed on the floor, and well -"

Shaking his head, Momijikawa smiles at him. Something in Haruka breaks.

"Sorry, this is a bit dark."

Haruka frowns. The soup burns a little as it flows down his throat, he failed to blow on it enough.

"I asked", he replies, going for nonchalant but landing on snappy. "'s fine."

The distance between them feels like an open wound, something gross and pulsing and alive. Vulnerable. Haruka wonders if he should attempt to sew it shut or tear it open farther.

"Mine aren't that crazy", he grumbles, "'s silly, really, but I always dream of a tightrope. I can never keep my balance 'nd I just hear everyone from my past insultin' me 'nd shit. 's just kinda depressing."

Quiet and steady, though his eyes are still glassy, Momijikawa listens. For a second, he says nothing as he digests the words. Then, he smiles again.

"That's not silly", he says. Haruka wants to refute him, but his mouth stays shut against his will, only his blazing cheeks speaking for him. "It sounds really stressful."

Haruka shrugs. It can't compare to Momijikawa's entire family dying. No matter how much Haruka has suffered, he could never pretend to understand such a tragedy.

"Death isn't the only horrible thing that can happen to you", Momijikawa slurps up the remnants of his miso soup before he continues, "People treated you like shit your whole life, even your own father. Of course you have nightmares about it, makes sense to me."

It sounds so logical when he words it like that. Still, something about the statement doesn't sit right with Haruka. Oh well, it doesn't matter now. The past is the past.

He is glad that there's no pity. That's the last thing he ever wanted, and honestly one of the things — besides judgment, of course — that he was afraid to encounter when he opened up to his school mates. Thankfully, they also knew better than to attempt to comfort him with empty apologies and meaningless platitudes.

Instead, they let him know that they're there for him, and that they won't let this happen again, that they'll protect this place he's found for himself, where Haruka can just be him and be loved for it. He can't quite do that for Momijikawa, can't promise that no one he loves will ever die again, since illnesses are something even Haruka can't fight with his fists. Still, he feels the pressing urge to do the same thing for Momijikawa, to make him feel better.

"Tell me more about yer family", he settles on, hoping Momijikawa doesn't mind the change in topic, "If ya want."

That night, Haruka gets no more sleep, as the two boys spend the hours until they need to leave talking about Momijikawa's parents and grandparents.

Haruka thinks he would have liked them.

Late night talks become a new habit of theirs.

It's not always so raw and vulnerable, doesn't always feel like pulling teeth. It's a story here and there, sometimes from their pasts, often just from school or around town. But still, they tend to stay up together longer and longer, lounging on the couch or on the rug in Haruka's bedroom, talking and occasionally laughing as they sip hot chocolate or nibble on snacks.

It's nice, though Haruka wouldn't admit that out loud. He doesn't think he's ever felt this at home anywhere but at Furin.

One evening a few weeks after their late-night fight, the two find themselves on the couch again. There's a movie playing on TV neither is paying attention to as they melt into the cushions, the conversation between them slow and syrupy. Haruka has forgotten what it was originally about, the boys now discussing the funniest prank someone could pull on Sugishita. Momijikawa has some surprisingly devilish ideas for someone so stoic and upstanding.

Before Haruka really registers it, he begins drifting off. His words and thoughts become lesser and farther in between, sluggish and slow until they die out completely. Vaguely, he feels his head droop before darkness takes over.

When he wakes up, the first thing Haruka makes note of is the crick in his neck and the blinding sunlight pressing against his eyelids. He frowns and moves to stretch, only to very quickly realize that he's not in his bed. In fact, he's not even lying down. Suddenly much more awake, Haruka opens his bleary eyes and tries to figure out what's going on.

He's in the living room, the TV long since having turned itself off. Right, they must have fallen asleep on the couch last night.

They? Only now does Haruka notice that his head is not leaning against a couch cushion, but something harder and much more alive. Momijikawa. Or, more specifically, his shoulder.

Cheeks rapidly warming, Haruka bites his lip. If he moves, will Momijikawa wake up? Will he be mad at him? Is this weird? Haruka doesn't know. This has never happened to him before. Sure, Nirei's fallen asleep with his head on his or Suo's shoulder many times, but he's Nirei.

Haruka doesn't know how Momijikawa feels about physical contact. It's not like the two of them never touch, but they surely don't cuddle, or hug, or anything like that. Momijikawa, the lone wolf of Bofurin, would never be caught dead doing something like that, and Haruka's far from known for it either.

Still, in the private recesses of his own mind, Haruka can admit that maybe, just maybe, this isn't…bad. It's actually kind of nice, even. Maybe.

It's just that, well. Momijikawa is warm and while he's not exactly soft, the firmness underneath his head makes for a decent pillow. The way Momijikawa's body rises and falls with his breaths is oddly relaxing, almost pulling Haruka back into a dreamless sleep, and finding him uncharacteristically reluctant to move despite the awkwardness of the situation.

This will be fine, right? It's not like Haruka meant to let his head drop onto the other boy's shoulder, and friends do stuff like this sometimes. At least that's what his classmates have taught him. It's not that weird.

So, he takes a deep breath, fighting against whatever odd needs his body has suddenly developed, and finally detaches his head from Momijikawa's shoulder. They're still sitting too close, arms and legs pressed together, and Haruka briefly wonders how this even happened.

At least Momijikawa doesn't stir. His face is neutral as he sleeps, no furrowed brows or smug grins, just complete relaxation. Aware that this is a rare occurrence, nightmares on the menu for the other boy more often than not, Haruka makes sure to be quiet as he stands up and pads into the kitchen.

It's unnatural to him, to pay attention to the volume of his movements. The last time he tried to be this considerate, he was still a child, hope in his eyes and eager to please despite the mistreatment. Back then, he thought that if he could just be quiet enough, helpful enough, good enough, then maybe his freakish genetics wouldn't matter. He quickly learned that he was wrong about that, and therefore stopped trying to dampen his stomps or lower his voice.

For his friends, though, he's willing to soften his edges, even if at times it feels like he's being sanded down to nothing. It's worth it, or it will be, he knows that now.

He prepares a coffee for himself as noiselessly as he can, foregoing the coffee machine and making it by hand like Momijikawa taught him a few days ago. It comes out too strong, but Haruka doesn't mind. With the cup in hand, he begins to pull out ingredients for a simple breakfast, making sure not to slam the cabinet doors shut.

Deftly, Haruka cracks a few eggs into the sizzling pan and prepares tamagoyaki for the two of them. It's a simple dish, one he's managed to master with Momijikawa's help. He's quite proud of it.

Every few seconds, he turns his head to check on his roommate, and every time the other is still soundly asleep on the couch. Good, Haruka thinks, he needs it.

When he makes to plate their food, everything goes downhill within seconds. Haruka doesn't see how it happens, just knows he was careless when one of the plates suddenly slides off the counter and hits the floor with a loud crash, immediately breaking into sharp pieces, egg flying onto his bare feet.

Through the sudden rush of blood in his ears, he faintly registers Momijikawa's voice. He can't hear what it is he's saying, but it's clear he's awake now. Haruka feels strange, faint and floaty. His heart's in his throat and his head's filled with cotton, he can't seem to get his breathing under control.

It's just a plate, it doesn't matter. He tells himself this over and over again but still, the darkness at the edges of his vision fails to recede, his ears still deaf to the world, and his body inaccessible to him. He can't move his limbs, can barely feel them.

There's someone in front of him, a hand reaching out to touch him, and all of a sudden Haruka is a child again. He flinches away from the motion, confused by his own actions as he feels pain bloom in his back. Haruka's a fighter, has been for so many years it's more ingrained in him than breathing. In every other situation he would not have hesitated to kick at whoever tried to hurt him, but for some reason his muscles won't work, body staying frozen.

"-ka!", a voice reaches his ears, low and frantic. Haruka frowns. "Haruka! Hey!"

The sunlight is too bright, blinding him when he finds himself back in his body again, limbs finally under his control. His ears ring and his chest still heaves, but he remembers where he is. A blush immediately makes itself known on his face. What a pathetic reaction. Embarrassing.

Momijikawa will want nothing to do with him now. Not only did he break his plate when he's already living in his apartment, he also had a giant freakout about it like a little baby.

"Haruka, are you alright?"

With a shaky gasp, Haruka finds his voice again.

"Fine", he grunts out as he attempts to get his hyperventilating under control. To his utter mortification, he can feel a tear sliding down his cheek, and he suddenly realizes he's sitting down.

Wasn't he standing before?

In front of him, Momijikawa crouches on the kitchen floor, still mussed and sleepy but his eyes are alert. His feet are positioned funnily, avoiding the remnants of the plate Haruka dropped. He looks down at his own feet, and sees smears of red marring his toes.

Momijikawa follows his gaze, and his expression turns even grimmer.

"Don't move", he says, tone leaving no room for arguments, "I'll get the first aid kit."

As soon as the other leaves the room, Haruka gets up. He's never been good at following orders, and he can't allow himself to stay slumped on the floor like that. Feeling vaguely ill, he begins to gather up the pieces of porcelain, careful not to cut himself again as he disposes of them. They clink loudly as they fall into the trash can.

When he's done all he can, he falls into the kitchen chair, eyes focused on the egg still decorating the hardwood. One of them, or both, must have stepped in it.

Haruka sighs. He's rattled, as much as he wants to pretend not to be, and confused beyond all measure. It's not the first time something like this has happened to him, but it's been so long that it completely blind-sided him. He thought he was better than this by now, that he'd become stronger. Maybe his "growth" has been all smoke and mirrors, and no matter how good of a fighter he becomes, no matter where he goes, he'll always be that naive little kid that let himself be pushed around and hit for every tiny thing he did and didn't do, for just existing.

"I told you not to move", Momijikawa grumbles at him as he reenters the room. He drops to his knees in front of Haruka without hesitation, firmly grabbing hold of his foot to examine it. Momijikawa's hands are warm and calloused. Grounding.

"Sorry 'bout that", Haruka grunts. God, he kind of wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He knows Momijikawa won't judge him or kick him out over something like this, but it doesn't change the fact that Haruka is embarrassed. Momijikawa was kind enough to offer up his home to him so shortly after the last remaining member of his family passed away, only for Haruka to come in and start smashing plates and crying, making Momijikawa take care of him. Since when was he such a lame loser? Anger makes Haruka's chest feel tight, breathing now difficult for a different reason.

"You don't gotta apologize", Momijikawa says easily as he wraps his foot in bandages. The damage can't have been that severe, but he supposes band aids come off too quickly. "Thanks for making breakfast."

Haruka blinks. That's it? Look, he didn't expect Momijikawa to make fun of him or throw a punch, but he's not even reprimanding him? Yelling a little? Every time Haruka thinks he's got the people of Makochi figured out, they surprise him again. Everyone is so weird.

"Ya ain't mad?", he can't help but ask.

Huffing, Momijikawa stands up. He grabs the dustpan and begins cleaning up the poor, massacred tamagoyaki on the floor.

"About a plate?", he glances over his shoulder at Haruka, "Nah. Are you okay, though?"

Fucking fine then. It's not like Haruka can force him to be angry with him, not that he wants to.

"I'm good", he mumbles and gets up, determined to help and move on from this as quickly as possible.

A moment of silence follows in which they clean up together. There's less food now, but still enough left for the both of them if they take slightly smaller portions. So they finish plating the tamagoyaki and sit down.

"Look, Haruka", Momijikawa says and it sounds like he's really forcing the words up his throat, his tone strained. "Whoever…whoever it was that hit you over shit like that…They were assholes."

It's said with the same emotionally stunted awkwardness that all of Haruka's own more heartfelt statements are, but the sincerity shines through. Momijikawa seems to really believe this.

Noncommittal, Haruka shrugs in response. It's still strange to him when people say that. It's not like he enjoyed being treated like that — obviously, that's why he learned to fight back — but he always thought it made logical sense.

After all, he was a difficult kid, and he looked weird to boot. If he fucked up, then he should be punished for it.

Momijikawa must be able to see the journey his face is going on, as he sighs deeply. He puts his fork down and reaches across the space between them to grab Haruka's forearm. He digs his fingers into it, almost enough to hurt.

"I mean it", he says. His voice is a lot surer now. "You were just a kid."

There's a strange, uncomfortable feeling blooming in Haruka's stomach, making it twist and churn. He's not in the mood to examine it now, and frankly, he doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he nods and tears his arm away. The tamagoyaki tastes good, at least.

"Okay", he replies because he knows Momijikawa expects him to say something. "Whatever."

He knows he'll be thinking about this for a while, whether he wants to or not. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knows there's something to these words, that there's a kernel of truth in what Momijikawa and his other friends say every time he opens up to them about his past or what people used to say to him.

They wouldn't lie to him, right? By now, he's learned that these people really care, that they're honest and thoughtful and kind. The people of Haruka's past were none of these things, so why are they the ones in the right? Why can't they have been wrong?

It's kind of a freeing thought to have. While he still can't quite believe it, he finds he would like to someday.

Thankfully, the next day at school provides the perfect distraction for Haruka's scrambled mind, as it's time for the first years to have their monthly training session.

It's a new tradition they've been trying to keep alive since Noroshi, getting together every once in a while to spar with each other and have the chance to grow stronger without the risks of a real fight. It's not always just the first years, but this time it is.

"Sakura-chan!", Kiryu greets him when he enters the gym that morning. They're all dressed more casually than usual, Furin attire left behind for more practical athletic wear. Except Suo, who looks like he always does. "Let's spar!"

Haruka shrugs and nods. He quickly addresses his class, tells them what today's main objectives are, and then sets them free. Normally, the captains and their vices are primarily supposed to watch and give tips, but a few spars won't hurt. Haruka really needs it right now.

Kiryu is a fun opponent. With his martial arts, he's different to the people Haruka usually faces off against, his moves precise and practiced and elegant. He's graceful, the way he moves, swift and flowing like water. Haruka imagines it's the closest he'll get to sparring with Suo, at least until the other boy gets his head out of his ass. Though he knows Suo would be much worse to fight — not that Kiryu isn't strong, but he's not nearly as mean with it as Haruka knows Suo can be.

The spar turns out to be good practice for both of them, Haruka having to adjust a lot of his usual attacks and taking care not to let Kiryu get too close, the boy's knowledge of pressure points a worrying skill.

With a well-aimed kick, Haruka finally earns his win. They're both grinning when he holds out a hand for Kiryu to take, the other letting himself be pulled back to his feet.

"Good job, Sakura-chan!", he smiles. For a moment, his eyes look past Haruka to somewhere over his shoulder, and his smile widens. "Oh, Momi-chan! Hi!"

Haruka turns around so quickly he feels something in his neck pop. He's not sure why he's reacting so strongly, he saw Momijikawa just this morning.

"Hey, Kiryu-kun", Momijikawa nods at him, then locks eyes with Haruka. "And Haruka."

Against his will, Haruka's cheeks grow red. It's truly a pesky habit, and no matter what he does, he just can't seem to kick it. Momijikawa's been calling him by his first name for months now, and he still reacts like this every time. He's sure the other secretly enjoys it. Smug bastard.

"What'cha want?", Haruka rolls his eyes. He's simply going to ignore the blush, exert dominance.

Kiryu giggles next to him, but Haruka keeps his eyes on his roommate. The other boy looks good, clearly having gotten some better sleep the last few nights. Haruka left early this morning to meet Nirei and Suo at Pothos so he only now sees that Momijikawa is wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants today, the shirt a bit tighter than is strictly necessary. It makes Haruka feel weird. It's a bit inappropriate, really.

"You wanna spar?", Momijikawa asks.

Initially, Haruka wants to agree. Fighting Momijikawa is really fun, the other so obviously one of the top caliber fighters in their year. He almost does agree, but Kiryu speaks up before he can.

"Ah, Momi-chan", he smiles pityingly, "Sakura-chan has captain duties to attend to, but I'm sure he'd be happy to watch you fight someone else!"

Haruka blinks. Technically, he should be observing his classmates, but it's not like there's an actual rule pertaining to that. Suo is also walking around doling out tips, and he's a better teacher than Haruka anyway.

"Uh -", Haruka opens his mouth to rebuke Kiryu, but the other boy grabs hold of his arm with both hands and drags him away. He shakes his head at Momijikawa in confusion, who just shrugs.

The shorter boy doesn't let him go until their backs hit one of the graffitied walls. Haruka immediately whirls around to get up in his face.

"What the hell was that?", he hisses.

He's not actually mad, but he is irritated. Why did Kiryu do that? Does he not want him to fight Momijikawa for some reason? He can't think of why that would be.

"Let's just sit for a moment", Kiryu pulls on him until he slides down to the floor alongside him, "We can watch Momi-chan fight, okay?"

Still confused, Haruka follows Kiryu's pointing finger to Momijikawa and Azusawa, who are now facing each other among the many other sparring pairs. He's not seen Azusawa fight much, so Haruka's interest is peaked.

"Fine", he grumbles, "But ya better explain yourself later."

Next to him, Kiryu just hums.

The fight is admittedly riveting. Azusawa wasn't made class captain for no reason, making for a formidable opponent. However, it quickly becomes obvious that Momijikawa has the upper hand. He's taller, stronger and faster. Haruka watches, oddly transfixed, as Momijikawa concentrates, his arched brows furrowing and eyes narrowed. His body is tense, muscles flexing under that annoying t-shirt, knees bent as he awaits Azusawa's next move.

When it comes, Momijikawa sidesteps and delivers a devastating punch to his opponent's stomach. Haruka is reminded of the many times the two of them have fought each other, some serious and many less so, intrigued by all he can see now that he's farther away. When he's the one fighting him, his field of vision is much more limited.

Against his will, he finds himself admiring Momijikawa's appearance almost as much as his fighting prowess and technique. He tries to pay attention to his moves, he really does, but his eyes have a mind of their own as they trail over his sharp jaw, the beads of sweat he can barely make out trailing down his temples, and his strong shoulders and arms and hands, powerful but gentle at the same time. His hair, short and dark, is longer than it was when they first met, the undercut almost grown out. Haruka gets hung up on a small stain he can spot on Momijikawa's sweatpants, remembering its origin as being the tomato sauce they had for lunch the other day.

It's a strange juxtaposition. Momijikawa, his school mate and the supposed "number one of their generation", sparring with another strong member of their grade right in front of them, leaving the audience that's gathered around them in awe; and Momijikawa, Haruka's friend and roommate, who spills tomato sauce on his pants and lets him fall asleep on his shoulder, who reads cookbooks and crime novels for fun, who makes Haruka wear his clothes far too often, and cooks for him, and fights him, and teases him at the grocery store. Who comforts him, or tries to, when he feels raw and tired and scared. Who has nightmares about his dead family, and tells him about them. Who keeps their memorabilia and smiles so, so softly. Who jokes and blushes and is somehow both serious and awkward at the same time. Momijikawa, who collects coupons like a grandpa, diligently writes every expense in his household account book, and kindly offered Haruka a place to stay.

He's -

"Hey, earth to Sakura-chan!"

Abruptly, Haruka is jolted out of his musings by his friend, whom he has fully forgotten about. Blushing, he reels himself in, noticing the way he seems to have leaned forward, hands on his knees. He clears his throat.

"Huh?"

Kiryu says nothing for a moment, just watches him. Haruka tries to avoid his gaze, the intelligent yet amused gleam in his eyes eerily similar to Suo's, and that never means anything good. Then, all of a sudden, Kiryu nods to himself.

"Let's call a break for now", he suggests, "I need some fresh air."

Well, Haruka supposes it is about time for a break, so he follows Kiryu's advice. As soon as he's made his announcement, Kiryu is by his side again, pulling him out of the gym. For some reason, his other friends are following behind. Are they planning something?

"So, Sakura-chan", Kiryu faces him once they've all sat down in the shade of a tree. "You like Momi-chan a lot, huh?"

Eh?

Next to Kiryu, Nirei is biting his lip in an attempt to hide an obvious grin, his freckles more pronounced due to the light flush of his face. Suo looks as unfazed as always, expression faintly amused as he observes them. Tsugeura is lifting dumbbells.

"I mean, yeah?", Haruka decides to respond. No use dragging whatever this is out any longer. "He's my friend."

Kiryu nods, expectant eyes glued to Haruka's face in a way that makes him kind of uncomfortable.

"That it?", Kiryu presses on. "Look, Sakura-chan, we're not trying to pressure you or anything, we're just genuinely curious."

"About what?"

Maybe he's stupid, or maybe he's just refusing to acknowledge what his friends are implying. Either way, he feels the urge to run far away and hide.

"You and Momijikawa", Kiryu says softly, "It's just, well…Don't you think you like him a little differently than the rest of us. Maybe?"

It's clear Nirei is trying really hard not to burst forth with his own words, Suo's hand on the short boy's shoulder both grounding him and reining him in.

Honestly, Haruka is getting a little annoyed at this charade.

"Just say what'cha wanna say", he groans.

"Alright", Kiryu rolls his shoulders and fixes his little ponytail, "Just from what I've seen, you let the guy call you by your first name and you blush around him all the time. Way more than you blush around us, even. You stare at him like he's your last meal on death row, your eyes all wide and shiny, and apparently you guys cook together all domestic, and you wear his clothes and he clearly has a thing for you but I haven't heard you complain about it yet, so what I'm trying to say is -"

Kiryu puts both of his hands on Haruka's shoulders.

"You have a crush on him."

When Haruka only blinks, face a horrific red that threatens an imminent explosion, he quickly adds: "We think, at least."

There's a heavy silence that settles over the group once Kiryu has delivered the message. Haruka allows it to marinade while he thinks. His first instinct is to blow up at them, truth be told, demand how they dare assume they know anything about how he feels, but he can recognize that that's just his embarrassment talking. His cheeks are blazing hot, and his mind is tearing itself apart, but he takes a few deep breaths and tries to apply what he's learned, not immediately becoming defensive but listening instead.

So, he thinks about what Kiryu said. Could it be true? Haruka has never had a crush before, never considered something as fickle and tender as romance could ever be on the table for him, but he can admit that Kiryu kind of has a point. He does feel weird around Momijikawa in a way he can't explain, and he does sometimes — occasionally — get distracted by his…physical attributes. And of course, he enjoys being around him, spending quiet evenings with him, cooking with him, fighting him. He can also admit he doesn't really mind wearing his clothes that much, the sensation kind of comforting to him now.

Still, does that mean he has a crush? He has just as intense feelings about most of his friends, feeling protective of Nirei and blushing at Suo's relentless teasing. He thinks Kiryu is a cute guy and is impressed by Tsugeura's strong stature. What makes this different? Is it different? Where does one draw the line between platonic and romantic?

Haruka thinks he might explode for a different reason now.

"I -", he eventually speaks. His friends perk up immediately. "How would I know?"

This is clearly not the response they were expecting, Nirei's shoulders relaxing as he lets his grin break free. Kiryu claps excitedly, while Suo narrows his eye in clear amusement.

"Hmm", Nirei taps his chin. It seems he now feels free to add his two cents as well. "If all that doesn't convince you, maybe try to think about doing romantic stuff with him?"

What the fuck?

"Oh yeah", Kiryu adds, "Like holding hands or kissing. If you wanna do that with him, I think that'd be a pretty clear indicator."

Haruka can feel his blush intensify once more, skin burning up from his head to the tips of his toes. Holding hands? Kissing? Something inside of him shrivels up at just the thought of doing something so vulnerable with anyone. It's a totally different level than allowing Kiryu and Nirei to cling to him, or even letting his head drop onto Momijikawa's shoulder.

He's never even kissed anyone, how would he know if he wants to do it?

"B-but", Haruka suddenly frowns, "Even if I…felt that way, 's not like it'd matter."

His friends blink at him.

"Did you not hear the part where I said that Momi-chan is clearly into you?"

Maybe it's not too late to run away yet. Haruka seriously considers it.

"That's ridiculous", he hisses, "No way he'd ever…"

Finally deeming the conversation derailed enough, Suo shuffled forward to put a grounding hand on Haruka's knee.

"Sakura-kun", he tilts his head, "I think it's very likely that Momijikawa-kun might harbor…affections for you. I dare even say he wouldn't be the first. You're a good person, there's no reason someone wouldn't like you."

Of course Suo figured out the core of this issue immediately. Sometimes, Haruka really thinks the other boy might be a mind reader.

"Whatever", he grumbles in response. This is embarrassing.

"Just…", Kiryu smiles at him as they get up, the time allotted to their break having passed, "Think about it."

Haruka cannot stop thinking about it.

He tries, he really does, distracting himself with fights and his friends and that phone game Kiryu's been teaching him. Still, in the quieter moments, the conversation with the others — interrogation, really — returns to the forefront of his mind like a moth to light.

It influences his daily life too. Every time he's around Momijikawa now, he's hyperaware of everything they both do, cataloguing every smile and blush to the point that it's begun to drive him insane.

Rationally, he knows it doesn't really matter how he categorizes his feelings for the other boy, but Haruka would like to know, goddammit. He's been experiencing so many new feelings and sensations since he moved here, he won't let embarrassment stop him from figuring this one out too. Even if it makes him feel like his romance sensor is going off 24/7 now, unsure if it's misfiring or not.

"Hey, Haruka?", Momijikawa calls out to him one Saturday morning when Haruka is busy making coffee. He acknowledges him with a tired hum, hearing the boy step into the room behind him. "Just so you know, I'm gonna trim my hair in a bit. So if you need the bathroom, maybe now's the time."

Oh, yeah. Haruka remembers Momijikawa mentioning that while he goes to the barber regularly, he usually trims his undercut himself. He's never seen him do it, and he did notice it had grown out a little, so it seems that the time has come. He wonders how long it's going to take, since Momijikawa assumes he's gonna be occupying the bathroom for a long time. Though, maybe he just doesn't want Haruka to be blindsided. He's thoughtful like that sometimes.

Unwillingly, Haruka's mind conjures up the image of Momijikawa in the bathroom, all alone as he fixes up his hair. Something about it doesn't sit right with him. His throat itches.

"I'll do it for ya."

He hadn't meant to say that.

Well, he's not gonna take it back now. He watches Momijikawa as he pauses, a light blush forming on his cheeks as his mouth opens and closes. Haruka's blush matches his.

"Do you even know how?", Momijikawa finally gathers his bearings, a smug smile now having taken residence on his face. The blush is still present though, and the sight of it makes Haruka feel…tingly.

In response, Haruka scoffs. "How hard can it be?"

So it's decided.

They set up in the kitchen instead of the bathroom on account of the better lighting. And since it won't bother Haruka now that he's participating.

Momijikawa sits down in one of the chairs, a fluffy towel over his shoulders, as Haruka attempts to familiarize himself with the trimmer. It's an electric thing, buzzing in his hand as he flips the switch. Momijikawa had put the correct blade on it earlier, because apparently there's different ones for whatever length you want. The more you know.

"A'ight", Haruka takes a deep breath before stepping forward, the left side of Momijikawa's head in front of him. He can do this. He only has to trace what's been done before, and even if it doesn't turn out adequate, it's just hair. It'll grow back. "Startin' now."

While a bit clumsy with it at first, the process is almost meditative. Momijikawa's soft, steady breathing combined with the continuous buzzing of the trimmer make for an oddly relaxing atmosphere. Haruka is never really on guard in their apartment anymore, but he still feels himself letting the very last of his guard down.

As short strands of hair fall to the ground, Haruka can't help but notice their close proximity. Of course, to do something like this, they've gotta be close to one another, but with one hand holding Momijikawa's head, the other's soft hair between his fingers and his warm skin underneath, his shoulder digging into his stomach, Haruka feels flustered nonetheless. He wonders — though it makes him feel awfully pathetic — what Momijikawa might be thinking.

"Does this…", Haruka frowns, unsure how to word this. "'s this alright?"

Not quite what he was going for, but oh well. He bites his tongue to stop himself from saying something even worse, and quickly steps behind Momijikawa to work on the back of his head.

"Yeah, you're doing great", Momijikawa hums. He sounds perfectly content, not remotely as jittery and awkward as Haruka. Even if there were any romantic feelings on Haruka's side, there's no way the other boy feels the same. Still, should he tell him? Just to get it over with?

Haruka prefers to be honest, has never really known anything else. He knows he can be blunt, overly direct, but he'd rather say what he thinks than deal with any mind games or complicated social charades. No one's ever bothered with that stuff for him, so he feels no need to hone such skills either. However, if this were to go badly and Momijikawa is left uncomfortable around him, then that could negatively impact Haruka's living situation.

Look, he doesn't think Momijikawa would kick him out — of course not. But he wouldn't want things to become tense and weird between them either, not when their cohabitation has been going so well.

Wait. Backtrack. All of this assumes that Haruka does have a crush on Momijikawa, but he's not confirmed that yet. Does that mean he's already gotten this used to the idea? Or maybe it just rings true.

Sighing, he shakes his head in an effort to ward off these thought spirals. Feelings are messy and confusing on a good day — and this is a whole different beast. He's not going to tell Momijikawa anything until he's got a better grip on whatever the hell is going on with him. The objective right now is to simply finish the job he's given himself without any further incidents.

The silence between them comfortable, Haruka gets to work properly. Already, he feels more at ease with the trimmer in his hand, guiding it along Momijika's head smoothly. The line separating the undercut from the hair on top of his head is a little wonkier now than it was before, but Haruka thinks he's doing alright for his first time. Momijikawa knew what he was getting himself into when he agreed to this.

Haruka's almost done when he realizes he can't really see the whole thing well from the side, so to make sure everything's as even as can be, he goes to stand in front of Momijikawa. He keeps a decent distance from the other boy as he tilts his head this way and that, Momijikawa watching the whole thing with a fond smile on his face.

"I think I missed a part…", Haruka mutters to himself. Near Momijikawa's right temple, some of the hair doesn't look quite right, so without thinking, he steps between Momijikawa's open legs to fix it. It's easier to reach from the front, anyway.

Only once he's holding the trimmer to Momijikawa's head again and hears the other boy's breath hitch, does he realize the compromising position he's put the two of them in. All of a sudden, he's hyperaware of Momijikawa's face right in front of his now heaving chest, and the way his roommate's muscular thighs bracket his legs on either side.

Haruka finishes the job quickly, then clears his throat.

"Uh, sorry…"

He begins to step away, but stops again once he notices the way Momijikawa's hand shoots out as if to hold onto him. It happens quickly, the hand retracted again before Haruka can fully register the action, but he still sees it.

An odd feeling spreads through Haruka's body, leaving his nerve endings singing. Did Momijikawa want him to stay? What would he have done, had he not stopped himself? They're stupid thoughts — dangerous — and Haruka feels too much like one of those bumbling shoujo heroines from Kiryu's mangas, but he just can't stop himself from wondering.

So, he remains frozen. He probably looks like a deer in headlights, buffering like this. He should step away. Most certainly, he should step out from between Momijikawa's legs, but his body doesn't move. The other boy, when Haruka finally meets his eyes, is avoiding his gaze, cheeks pink. His hands are clenched on top of his thighs.

Without any permission from Haruka's brain, his body moves. He takes a small step forward and grabs onto Momijikawa's shoulder with his free hand — the other still awkwardly holding onto the trimmer — and before he knows it, he's pressed their lips together in a kiss.

Alarm bells go off in Haruka's head immediately. What the fuck is he doing? He's never kissed anyone before, didn't even realize he wanted to until this very second, and here he is! Doing it!

The kiss is an awkward thing, the angle all wrong and their lips dry. Haruka doesn't move, frozen where he's leaning down, and Momijikawa fully seems to have stopped breathing. Thankfully, Haruka has screwed his eyes shut and doesn't need to see the other's reaction.

Fuck, is the only coherent thought rattling around inside his brain.

Then, Momijikawa twitches slightly, and he begins to move. Haruka suddenly very much does not want to find out what he's about to do, quickly detaching himself and taking several steps backwards. His back hits the kitchen counter, trimmer falling to the floor, as the waves his hands in a panic.

"I-", he can feel the intensity of his own blush, his face and ears so hot Haruka thinks he could be mistaken for an erupting volcano, "I'm sorry."

After grumbling those words, he doesn't stick around to hear what Momijikawa has to say, instead making a run for it. He doesn't even put on any shoes as he stumbles into the street with his slippers on, mind in a frenzy.

Haruka is not a coward, so he's not afraid of what Momijikawa will say. He just needs a minute to think.

Or several minutes.

His spontaneous escape leads him to Pothos, because of course it does.

"Sakura, hi! What -", Kotoha's words fizzle out once she properly lays eyes on him. He must look as frazzled as he feels then, not to mention the fact that he just burst in here in sweatpants and slippers. Ugh, he really should've thought about this — any of it.

At least Pothos is relatively empty. Small mercies.

"Hey", he mumbles out a greeting and sits in one of the barstools. His face is still burning red, and Kotoha looks horribly curious. She's working on an order though, so Haruka takes a moment to gather his bearings.

So. He clearly harbors some sort of feelings for Momijikawa, if his split-second reaction is to kiss him. God, he drops his head onto the bartop as he groans, I kissed him. He's so fucking stupid. Momijikawa has been nothing but nice and accommodating — ignoring their original meeting — and Haruka just had to go and screw it all up. Never before had his heart and body betrayed him like this. Romance wasn't a part of his life, and he never wanted it to be. It's too complicated, too vulnerable and awkward. Also, he's only just started properly making friends, he shouldn't be so greedy.

As if anyone would want to date him anyway. Friendship is one thing, but who in their right mind would be interested in kissing him, and whatever other stuff people in relationships do? A dry chuckle slips past his lips, the wood of the bartop helping to cool down his heated skin.

"Sakura?", a fist knocks on the wood right next to his ear, "What's wrong with you?"

He seriously considers just staying there with his head down, grumbling and pitying himself, but Haruka has never been that type of guy. So, he lifts his head and meets Kotoha's burning gaze head-on.

"I fucked up", he admits in a tired voice. All of these emotions are wearing him out.

"Uh huh." Kotoha crosses her arms, unimpressed. "Omurice?"

Clearly, this is going to be a conversation. He nods.

"So, what happened?", she asks when she's cracked the eggs into the pan. The sizzling sounds and the smell make him feel better instantly. It was the right decision to come here, he thinks.

Haruka sighs, long-suffering, before turning his head this way and that to make sure no one's close enough to overhear. He doesn't want some random grandmother to spread this gossip around town.

"Uh, well, I -", Kotoha raises an eyebrow at his stuttering, "I was trimmin' Momijikawa's hair for him."

Kotoha is half-hidden behind the little wall that sections off the stove from the rest of the café, and Haruka is almost grateful for it. Just half of her judgmental expression is enough.

"And?"

"And…", Haruka fidgets in his seat, "I dunno. At some point I was like standin' in front of 'im and ugh…The other day Kiryu asked me if I had a crush on 'im and all these thoughts were driving me crazy so I just, uh, kissed 'im."

Kotoha freezes in the middle of plating the omurice, eyes wide as she looks at him. This is unprecedented behavior for him, so he can't exactly blame her. To her credit, Kotoha is very used to the Furin boys' shenanigans, and quickly regains her bearings. She blinks and finishes up his meal, sliding the plate towards him.

Looking around to make sure she's not ignoring any hungry customers, Kotoha leans her elbows on the bartop in front of him, fixing him in place with her intense stare. There's a big grin on her face that reignites the flush on Haruka's.

"You kissed him?", she asks, excited, "Bold, Sakura."

To distract himself, Haruka begins eating his omurice. It's as tasty as always.

"Yeah", he grumbles between bites.

"So, why do you think you fucked up?", she asks. It's obvious she's confused by this, and Haruka wonders why. It should be evident what went wrong here.

"What'd'ya mean? I can't just…do that", he hisses out. Even the deliciousness of the omurice can't calm his nerves completely.

Kotoha considers him, her grin now more mellow. Gears are turning behind her bright eyes, and Haruka feels too much like he's offered himself up on a silver platter. It's fine, he tells himself, it's just Kotoha. In a way, she was his first friend in this town, and he knows he can trust her. After all, she always has good advice for him, and he knows how much she can relate to his struggles.

"Why not?"

It seems she can't relate to this one.

"'Cause he doesn't feel the same", he spits out, "Obviously."

The expression on Kotoha's face turns almost sad, her lips downturned and eyes losing the last of their mischievous luster. Great, now he's upset her too.

"Did he say that?", she asks quietly, "Or are you assuming? Because to me, that's not obvious at all."

Haruka's first reaction to that is to scoff. She doesn't know Momijikawa well at all, how could she say that? Still, he did assume it. She's not wrong about that, even when Haruka is sure he has reached the correct conclusion.

After all, Momijikawa is a catch. He's organized and kind, gentle, diligent and caring. He's good with his hands and at household chores, and while he's generally introverted and serious, he can be quite funny and sweet. On top of all that, he's tall and strong and an amazing fighter. Haruka never had a chance.

"He didn't say anythin'", Haruka admits, "I left."

Wincing, Kotoha makes a low whistling sound.

"Oh, Sakura", she sighs, "Then how do you know?"

"How can you not?", he snaps at her. And immediately feels guilty about it. Biting his lip, he's about to apologize, but Kotoha speaks up before he can.

"You gotta realize how much of a catch you are, Sakura", she shakes her head, "Not to me, duh, but I can guarantee you that half of Bofurin's had a little crush on you at some point. Screw it, not just Bofurin."

Haruka, flustered once more, flails in reaction to her words. She pays him no mind.

"And of all people, Momijikawa likes you so much. I know it can be hard to accept, or even just to see, and I know I don't see you guys together much, but Sakura", the eye contact she makes with him when she says his name is too meaningful for Haruka's liking, "The boy asked me for my omurice recipe like a week after he met you. He let you move in with him, shares his space with you, cooks for you, lets you wear his clothes…I could go on. Nirei's told me all about it."

Oh, Haruka is going to kill Nirei.

"Point is, Sakura", Kotoha grabs onto his wrist, the hold firm yet gentle, "That I think it's very likely he feels the same. What you do with that is up to you, but you should at least hear what he has to say."

Her fingers caress his skin, the motions repetitive and awfully comforting. Haruka's eyes are fixed on his empty plate.

"And even if I'm wrong and he likes you as a friend only, then you still have nothing to worry about."

There's a tsunami in Haruka's chest, and he feels like he's drowning. On one hand, he wants to believe her, knows Kotoha is always honest with him and would never be so cruel as to placate him with empty words. On the other hand, it's so difficult. A lot of his thought processes have been adjusted since he came here, mind and heart overturned by the fierce kindness of everyone in this strange town, but old habits famously die hard, and six months is not enough time to reverse the conditioning he's received for the first 15 years of his sorry life.

"I -" Haruka tries to reply, but he's at a loss for words. What can he even say to this without invalidating Kotoha's sincere feelings?

She seems to understand, if the sullen look on her face is anything to go by. With a small smile, she moves her hand to pat his shoulder and then moves to take his plate away. As she rinses it off in the sink, she speaks again.

"Just talk to him."

Her tone leaves little room for arguments, and Haruka finds he's not interested in arguing anyway. What else is there for him to do but to face the music? In the end, it'll be better if he gets this out of the way sooner rather than later.

So, feeling at least a little reassured, he slips off the chair.

"Thanks", he mumbles. Kotoha smiles at him, giving him a thumbs up as he slowly walks out of the café and into the waning afternoon sunlight. It's cold, and Haruka regrets not pulling on a jacket on his way out the door. The hoodie he's wearing is too thin to ward off the cold, causing him to shiver.

As he walks, he can't stop thinking about the sensation of Momijikawa's lips on his. It's an odd thing to fixate on now, considering everything else about the situation, but as awkward and clumsy as the act was, Haruka has to admit to himself that it was nice. He kind of wants to do it again, figure out all there is to this kissing business.

Well, he thinks, There's your answer, Kiryu.

The apartment complex enters his line of sight before he's fully ready for it, but he continues marching onward without hesitation. He's never backed down from anything in his life, and he's not gonna start now.

When he walks inside — the heated air a balm on his goose-bumped skin — the apartment is quiet. For just a second, he wonders if Momijikawa left as well, or if he's locked himself inside his bedroom, but then he notices that the light is still on in the living area. It's dim, so it must be the standing lamp they've put next to the couch. An addition they both enjoyed, especially when they spend evenings there together and Momijikawa wants to read his books. The guy already needs reading glasses, he doesn't need to mess up his eyes any further.

Haruka shakes the thoughts out of his head and decisively steps into the room. There, Momijikawa sits on the couch, a book in his hand and his glasses on his nose — it's as if Haruka manifested this scene by accident.

As he approaches, Momijikawa looks up and calmly puts the book aside. He doesn't look mad, or upset, he doesn't really look like anything at all. His face is almost too neutral to be natural, as if he's purposefully putting on an act of nonchalance. There's no words exchanged as Haruka sits down next to him, keeping a good distance between their bodies, and grips his knees with his hands.

"You okay?", Momijikawa asks. His voice is steady and low, quiet, as if he's scared to spook him. "It's cold out and you weren't wearing much."

Haruka shrugs. He doesn't answer, can't allow himself to get sidetracked now. First, he needs to say what's weighing on his mind, before daring to entertain any other topics.

"Look, Momiji-", Haruka takes a deep breath, "Sakae. 'm sorry for, uh, for kissing ya like that."

In the orange glow of the lamp, Momijikawa almost looks like he's blushing as he keeps his steady gaze fixed on Haruka's face — who is definitely blushing. He doesn't say anything to that, so Haruka keeps going.

"I just -", he groans quietly, "I guess I like ya, or somethin'."

A moment of silence follows his admission. Haruka thinks he might suffocate in it.

"Why are you sorry then?"

Haruka blinks. What's up with people and not realizing the obvious today? Has everyone become more dense than him overnight?

"What d'ya -" He turns his body to face Momijikawa properly, shyness forgotten. "'Cause ya don't -"

"I do", Momijikawa interrupts him. It's uncharacteristic for him. Someone as introverted as Momijikawa is rarely so eager to talk that he doesn't let the other person finish. It makes Haruka realize that despite his stoic demeanor, the other boy is nervous. "I thought you didn't, and that's why you were sorry."

"What?" Haruka's not sure he's following along anymore.

"I like you." Momijikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, as if he's not tearing Haruka's world view up like an unwanted letter. "I thought I made that pretty clear."

Oh.

Haruka wants to accuse him of lying, of placating him, but he knows Momijikawa would never do that. Suddenly, his brain provides him with a billion little moments, scenes from their daily lives over the past months — Momijikawa smiling at him, cooking his favorite foods for him and always giving him the larger portions, urging him to wear his clothes, letting Haruka sleep on his shoulder, letting their hands brush as they walk.

Oh.

He might actually be an idiot.

Tired of words, and his brain unable to form the right ones anyway, Haruka once again lets his body take over. Refusing to think about it too much lest he explode from mortification, he impulsively swings a leg over Momijikawa and settles in his lap. It's a weird position, one he's never found himself in with anyone before, but he doesn't let himself question anything he does. Clumsily, he grabs hold of Momijikawa's jaw with both of his hands and smashes their mouths together for a second time that day.

It's far from elegant, the collision harsh and their lips chapped, but it feels right, like this is what he wanted all along. And when Momijikawa gets over his surprise and actually responds in kind, all tension drains from Haruka's shoulders, his body practically melting against the other's sturdy sturdy chest as they both do their best to move their faces the right way.

Their noses bump, and Momijikawa's glasses dig into his skin almost painfully, but Haruka has never felt a sensation like this before. His lips are tingling, his breath coming out of his nose in rapid puffs, and there's a strange, fluttery feeling in his chest and stomach. He likes it. A lot.

Once they run out of breath, they break apart for just a moment. Haruka's almost too bashful to allow their eyes to meet, but it happens anyway. The fondness with which Momijikawa regards him, his reddish-brown eyes wide in wonder, is enough to take the rest of his breath away.

The weird fluttering in Haruka's chest becomes unbearable, urging him to move, so he leans forward again, hands coming up to remove Momijikawa's glasses — and quickly throwing them on the couch next to them — before dipping his head down to kiss him again. It's strange to be taller than him for once, Haruka doesn't think he's ever seen Momijikawa's face from this angle.

This time, Momijikawa's hands also move, wandering up Haruka's shivering body to hold firmly onto his hips. It causes Haruka to make a truly mortifying whining sound against the other boy's lips, to which Momijikawa simply replies with a small chuckle before tilting his head experimentally.

Oh. That does something. Suddenly, their lips slot together more smoothly than before, the tingling intensifying to the point that Haruka's mind empties completely. He surges ever forward, body searching for more stimulation, more connection. Momijikawa has awakened a monster, it seems. He doesn't appear to mind though, as he boldly sucks Haruka's bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh and making him hiss quietly.

The whole thing devolves into something Haruka thinks could be described as making out pretty quickly, though they're both horribly clumsy with it. Still, it feels right, feels good, and Haruka doesn't really want to stop.

Unfortunately, they are human and do need to breathe on occasion.

"Good?", Momijikawa pants against his lips. Flushed down to his toes, Haruka just nods. To his relief, he can feel the small quivers of Momijikawa's hands despite his solid grip, and can see the matching splotches of pink on the other's cheeks. It seems he's not the only one left reeling from this.

"You?", Haruka asks back. He's proud when his voice comes out mostly steady, though missing it's usual roughness.

In response, Momijikawa nods as well, his hands moving to Haruka's back so that his arms now encircle him, almost like a hug. Their chests are touching, allowing Haruka to feel the rapid-fire speed of Momijikawa's heart beat.

"Let me take you out on a date", Momijikawa says. His voice breaks ever so slightly on the last word.

Haruka doesn't mean to hesitate. After all, it's more than obvious by now how they feel about each other. Still, it's one thing to kiss — or even make out — in the privacy of their own apartment, away from any prying eyes; and another thing entirely to go out. Does he want to date Momijikawa? Be boyfriends? The thought is alien to him, almost unreal, but he supposes it's not unwelcome.

He's sure Momijikawa is just as new to this as he is, and he doesn't want to stop any of what they've been doing, but he also isn't sure what a relationship entails. What will be expected of him? What if he fucks it up? Still, the urge to be with Momijikawa in that way is too strong, and he can think of no proper reason to say no.

"Yeah", he bites his lip, the abused skin smarting against his teeth, "Okay."

They can figure it out together.