The island incident finally ended. The drama had died down, the tan lines were fading, and Bai Ying had been completely absent from school.
Rumors had filled the vacuum with their usual nonsense, he was hospitalized. He ran away. He got eaten by sharks. The truth?
He was on set. Filming a sci-fi action movie with explosions, aliens, and a budget big enough to make the morning news.
And now... he was back.
The classroom buzzed like a hive just shy of panic, students buzzing in their seats as the first period approached. Then, the door flung open with theatrical force.
"Surprise~" Bai Ying sang, striking a pose mid imaginary hair toss.
Gasps. Audible gasps.
"Makoto?!"
"No way, he's back?!"
"Didn't he die?!"
He winked like a seasoned idol- which he was. stepping onto a red carpet eyes sparkling and skin suspiciously glowing. His uniform was almost offensively crisp, his hair too perfect, and he radiated the quiet smugness of someone who just returned from somewhere better.
"Where's my boyfriend?" he asked sweetly, glancing around like he was checking for paparazzi.
Silence.
"You mean- Saiki?!" kaidou replied confused.
"Who else?" Makoto replied, slipping into his seat with an exaggerated sigh. "Where is he? Did he go to the bathroom? Get abducted by aliens?"
Yumehara pointed toward the next classroom over. "I think he's in Toritsuka's room. That guy dragged him there before homeroom started."
Makoto blinked. "...He what?"
The next classroom over was just as chaotic, though for a different reason. Saiki Kusuo sat at the farthest desk while Toritsuka Reita leaned in close, whispering with the intensity of a man on a life or death mission.
"C'mon, Saiki! You're literally dating Makoto freaking Teruhashi and you even had a crush before that! don't tell me you can't give me a single tip?!"
Saiki stared at him, unamused. "You're the last person I would give advice to."
Toritsuka groaned and slumped against the desk. "Come on, man. You bagged Makoto Teruhashi! The prince of the entertainment world! The guy who made half the student body question their sexuality! There has to be a secret. And don't pretend you didn't have a thing for Hiroshi Satou before."
Saiki froze.
His glasses shimmered. "What are you talking about?"
"That Satou guy from my class," Toritsuka said, nudging Saiki's shoulder. "Super normal, super plain. But he's kind and polite, and like, not threatening at all, pratically a background character. You were definitely into him before Makoto transferred."
"I was not."
"You totally were! You always looked at him for like two seconds longer than everyone else."
Saiki looked absolutely done. "That was because he's the only one in your class who doesn't scream every three seconds."
"Still counts."
Before Saiki could fry Toritsuka's eyebrows off with psychic irritation, the door opened.
"There you are!"
Makoto entered the room like a star arriving on set. His gaze zeroed in on Saiki.
"You left me alone with all those fangirls," he said, mock pouting. Then his eyes flicked to Toritsuka. "Oh. And you."
Toritsuka beamed. "Makoto! Great timing. Your boyfriend was just denying his secret past love."
Saiki turned away. "I didn't have one."
Makoto raised an eyebrow and dramatically gasped. "You had a secret crush?!"
"No."
Makoto crossed his arms, smiling playfully. "So you've had a crush before, but I'm not your first love? That hurts, kusuo."
"I didn't have a crush."
Toritsuka laughed. "Satou's probably blushing somewhere right now."
Makoto leaned down beside Saiki's desk, whispering, "Then... was I your first love?"
Saiki narrowed his eyes, blushing ever so faintly.
Makoto's smile turned smug. "You were mine. So it's only fair, right?"
Before Toritsuka could chime in again, their homeroom teacher peeked in from the hallway. "Everyone, we'll be discussing the class trip after lunch. Return to your seats."
Toritsuka groaned. "Please let me room with someone who won't keep me up all night talking about how in love they are."
Makoto waved him off. "Anyway," he said brightly, turning back to Saiki, "do you want to go to the set with me later? It's just a short shoot. Could be fun."
Saiki paused.
"...Fine."
Makoto beamed. "Perfect! I'll even let you pick which outfit I wear after filming."
"No."
"Yes."
Saiki walked off without responding.
Makoto followed, sipping from his drink, clearly satisfied. "You love me. You totally love me. You're just bad at expressing it."
Toritsuka slumped forward at his desk. "Why do psychic guys get everything..."
Just as Makoto dramatically fluttered after Saiki, their homeroom teacher clapped her hands at the front of the classroom with the force of someone who had completely lost patience.
"Everyone, settle down. I've got an announcement!"
Students slowly returned to their seats, though the energy in the room remained loud and scattered. Makoto slid into his chair beside Saiki with a grin still lingering on his lips.
"Due to your mostly decent behavior this semester," the teacher began, "the school has approved our annual class trip."
The class immediately erupted into cheers.
"Trip?!" "Are we going to Hokkaido again?!" "Is it Disneyland?!"
The teacher raised a hand. "We're heading to, drumroll please- Okinawa!"
Screams. Actual screams. Kaidou jumped to his feet, yelling something about a "beachfront confrontation with the Dark Reunion." Hairo started chanting about team bonding. Kokomi flipped her hair like she was already in a photo shoot. Nendou just shouted "YEAHHHH!" without knowing what was happening.
Makoto let out a delighted hum and leaned toward Saiki. "Okinawa? That sounds romantic. Beaches, sunsets, hotel rooms..."
Saiki didn't even blink.
Some random green haired guy practically slammed his desk, cheering with a few other loud idiots. Makoto squinted. Was his name Taco- something? Takahashi? He couldn't be bothered to remember.
"we'll be Sarounded by beach babes on this trip. I can feel it!" the guy shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.
The teacher continued over the chaos, "We'll be leaving in two weeks. You'll be split into groups for room assignments and activities. Permission slips go out tomorrow, so don't forget. And yes, there will be a beach day."
Makoto clapped once. "Perfect. Just in time for the movie to wrap up"
He turned to Saiki with a sparkle in his eye. "You're really coming to set with me, right?"
Saiki stared out the window, quietly contemplating every life decision that had brought him to this moment.
"...I already said yes," he muttered.
Makoto beamed and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
Later that day, the film set buzzed with energy. Cameras rolled, lights flashed, and costumed actors ran about yelling futuristic nonsense.
"CUT! Let's go again, from the plasma tunnel scene!"
Makoto stood under a lighting rig, dressed in a sharp navy uniform lined with glowing silver accents. His hair was styled into a sleek wave, and his posture screamed commanding alien detective. He glanced toward the side where a very unimpressed psychic stood among the crew.
Saiki adjusted his glasses as one of the assitants offered him a chair.
"I cant believe you actually came," Makoto said during a break, bouncing toward him with a grin. "You look like you're seconds from teleporting home."
"I'm here because you asked."
Makoto smiled wider. "And I appreciate it. Now come meet the director."
He dragged Saiki across the set. Crew members waved, recognizing Makoto's companion as the not so mysterious boyfriend (their photos were literally always trending) he never shut up about.
"This is my partner in crime, well, alien crime," Makoto teased. "Director Aki, this is Saiki."
Director Aki squinted at Saiki, nodded once, and said, "Nice to meet you. So you're the one who keeps Makoto on schedule."
"Something like that," Saiki muttered.
"Don't scare him off," Makoto laughed. "By the way, once we wrap filming, I'll be out of town for a few days."
Aki looked up from his clipboard. "Where to?"
"Class trip. Okinawa."
The director groaned. "How long?"
"Three days. Maybe four if I oversleep," Makoto said with a shrug. "But everything should be finished by then."
Aki waved a hand. "Fine, fine. Just don't come back with a tan. We're doing the cryo lab movie poster shoot right after."
Makoto turned to Saiki, clearly proud. "See? I've got everything under control."
Saiki blinked. "You're surprisingly professional."
Makoto smirked. "That sounds dangerously close to a compliment, kusuo bear."
As filming continued, Saiki found himself watching more intently than he expected. Makoto moved like he belonged there. Between takes, he gave notes, adjusted his expression on cue, and navigated the chaos of the set like a seasoned actor.
He was charismatic, serious when needed, and always prepared. He handled his scenes with co stars, including an alien prince played by a massive CG puppet, with ease and charm.
When a particularly intense explosion scene wrapped, Makoto trotted back to him.
"Did you see me get blown up?"
"Yes."
"And?"
Saiki hesitated. "...You didn't flinch."
Makoto lit up. "Was that a compliment?"
Saiki looked away, expression flat. "No. It means you're unhinged and I should be worried."
By the time the sun began to set, the day's filming wrapped. Makoto, still in costume, leaned against the wall beside Saiki as the crew cleaned up.
"Thanks for coming," he said quietly. "I know this stuff isn't really your thing."
Saiki glanced at him. "You're good at it."
Makoto tilted his head. "You sure you don't have a crush on me now?"
"We're already dating"
Makoto smiled so wide he nearly dropped his prop badge.
Days passed by and Filming finally ended, The blazing lights of the studio, the relentless pace of production, and Makoto's dual life as a student and a film star had finally caught up to him. Although the shooting wrapped up 3 days before the class trip, the moment the cameras stopped rolling, so did Makoto's energy.
Saiki stood beside Makoto's bed, frowning.
Makoto was bundled under several blankets, cheeks flushed pink from the fever. His skin was clammy with sweat, yet he still shivered every now and then. Saiki had tried this twice already, no, three times. Each time, he focused his psychic energy precisely on Makoto's immune response, calibrating for bacteria, viruses, and even mysterious desert island parasites but nothing changed.
He narrowed his eyes.
This is getting ridiculous.
He hovered his hand again, invisible psychic waves pulsing from his fingers.
Makoto groaned and peeked up at him with tired, glossy eyes. "...Trying to magic my fever away again?"
[System: host he doesnt have magic ʕ̿-㉨̿-ʔ]
"It's not magic," Saiki muttered flatly. "It should work."
"Well it's not working, psychic boy," Makoto croaked with a weak smirk.
Saiki sighed through his nose and tried one more time. He scanned Makoto's vitals, recalibrated, adjusted for unknown tropical exposure and released another wave of healing energy.
A beat.
Makoto blinked.
Then coughed.
Still flushed. Still sweaty. Still sick.
"Okay, this is just embarrassing now," Makoto murmured, letting his head fall back on the pillow. "Even the great Saiki can't defeat the common cold?"
"It's not a cold. It's severe post production fatigue compounded by dehydration, poor sleep, and island trauma," Saiki replied. "And possibly karma."
Makoto let out a low laugh that turned into another cough. "Wow. So you're saying I'm being punished?"
"Obviously."
Makoto rolled over and buried his face into the pillow. "You're the worst doctor ever."
Saiki picked up the damp towel from his forehead and replaced it with a freshly chilled one. "Then why did you ask me to stay?"
Makoto peeked at him with one eye, a little more earnest now. "Because... it's kind of nice. You're nice and im in love with you so you get a pass."
[System: host is a simp ( ͡°Ĺ̯ ͡° )]
Saiki didn't respond, but his gaze softened just slightly. He sat down beside the bed again, arms crossed.
"You still want to go to Okinawa?" he asked.
Makoto blinked at the ceiling. "I really do."
"Then get better."
"I'm trying," Makoto said with a sigh. "Maybe if you kiss me I'll recover instantly."
"...No."
Makoto snorted and drifted off into light sleep, still half smiling despite the fever.
But Saiki remained still, eyes fixed on the far wall. He could feel it again, a low pulse, like someone brushing the back of his neck from across the city. Surveillance. Static interference.
His mind shot outward, ranging across town, until it locked onto a familiar signal, buzzing faintly behind a firewall of biometric encryption and smugness.
Kusuke.
Saiki's jaw tightened.
He stood up and placed a fresh glass of water on Makoto's nightstand. One hand ghosted over the boy's temple, checking again for anomalies.
Nothing. At least, nothing new.
But that was exactly the problem and in a few seconds he dissapeared from where he was standing.
[System: host he Dissapeared Σ(ﾟДﾟ;)]
Makoto snored in response.
Kusuo didn't knock.
He never did. Especially not here, where twenty-seven cameras, three bio scanners, and a motion sensor had already tracked his heartbeat down the hall.
The door hissed open.
"Oh?" Kusuke's voice echoed from across the room, already amused. "My brother gracing my lab. Did your little pet glitch again?"
Kusuo stepped inside. His voice was flat. "I need more power."
Kusuke blinked. "...Excuse me?"
"I'm modifying my limiter. You're helping."
There was a pause.
Then a short, delighted laugh. "Wow. You want more power? The same brother who's spent his entire life whining about normalcy and hiding behind ridiculous glasses?"
"I've changed my mind."
"Oh, I noticed," Kusuke said, spinning his chair toward a row of monitors. "Ever since he showed up. Makoto, right? Or should I say- that monkey with a system interface."
Kusuo didn't react. Not visibly.
But Kusuke caught the shift in the air. Just a slight drop in temperature.
He smiled wider.
"That thing in his head- 'the system' it's not human. He's not human. He's a walking program with bad latency and good hair. You think you're in love, but really? You're just another side quest."
"He's still a person," Kusuo said quietly.
"No," Kusuke replied, coldly smiling. "He's a host. A glorified NPC who talks to air. I've been watching, you know."
He tapped a key. Dozens of video feeds flickered across the wall, all of them Makoto.
Walking, blinking, sighing. Talking to air, acting weird.
Kusuo's stomach twisted.
"You're surveilling him."
Kusuke didn't even blink. "I'm observing. Big difference. And since you've given up all critical thinking in favor of dating an alien meme protocol, someone has to."
He gestured lazily to a second feed. Videos of Haruka stalking makoto.
Kusuo's gaze sharpened.
"You're using Haruka."
Kusuke's smile was a knife. "Ah. Finally caught that, huh? To be fair, she practically volunteered. All I had to do was nudge her. Narcissists are fun like that."
"She's been tailing him," Kusuo said. "Showing up at just the right moments. Screaming about the system and saving makoto"
"Exactly. She thinks she's saving him," Kusuke said. "But what she's really doing is pressure testing the system. I wanted to see if it would adapt. Or if it would crack."
"You're manipulating both of them."
"I'm running a simulation. Don't be dramatic."
"Stop. bothering. Makoto."
Kusuo's voice wasn't loud. But the lights in the room dimmed- one flickered, then popped. The static hum of electronics stuttered.
Kusuke raised an eyebrow. "Touchy."
"I let you watch because I thought you were trying to understand it. Not torture him."
"Torture? Please. If your boyfriend can't handle a few social curveballs, maybe he shouldn't be pretending to be human."
Kusuo took a step forward. "You don't get to decide who's real."
"No," Kusuke said. "But I get to find out what he is. And I think I'm close. Every time he's near you his magenetic waves change It's fascinating. He's probably talking to the system during those times"
He leaned in.
"What happens when you break the monkey? Does the system evolve? Collapse? Move on to you?"
Kusuo's eyes narrowed. The room hummed louder now- a pressure in the walls, just short of crushing.
"I'm not going to let you hurt him."
Kusuke paused.
And for the first time, he actually looked at Kusuo. Really looked. Not as a puzzle. Not as a variable.
But as the boy who could end the planet by blinking.
He clicked his tongue.
"...Fine. I'll back off Makoto."
"All of it. Delete the surveillance."
"Oh, come on-"
"Now."
Kusuke groaned like a teenager asked to delete his save file. "You're ruining my archival integrity."
"I'll ruin your hard drive next."
"Ugh, fine. The footage goes. Except the thermal scans."
Kusuo raised an eyebrow.
"Compromise," Kusuke said. "Don't push it."
They stood in silence.
Then Kusuke added, almost softly, "You really like him."
Kusuo didn't answer.
"You're still being watched, you know," Kusuke went on. "Even if it's not by me. That system isn't passive. It's observing everything you do. One day, it's going to outgrow him. Or you probably"
"I know," Kusuo said.
"Then why bother?"
"Because he's more than that."
Kusuke stared at him.
Kusuo turned toward the main console. "The limiter upgrade. We start tomorrow."
Kusuke tilted his head. "If you're asking for help... the situation must be worse than you've let on."
Kusuo raised a hand. A globe of psychic energy shimmered above his palm. Earth. Flickering red. Tectonic faults. Meteor trajectories. Cascading anomalies.
"Something's coming," Kusuo said. "I'm not enough. Not like this."
Kusuke's eyes gleamed.
"So the world's ending, your boyfriend might be a sentient virus, and you're recruiting me to help you evolve."
"Yes."
Kusuke grinned, feral. "Now this is family bonding."
"I'll tell Mom about the drone you put in her rice cooker."
"...I'll turn your antenna yellow."
Back in Makoto's room, the lights flickered faintly as Kusuo reappeared beside the bed, the quiet hum of his teleportation settling into the shadows like a sigh. The air was still, too still, save for the soft rustle of sheets as Makoto stirred.
"...You left," Makoto mumbled, voice hoarse and thick with fever. His eyes opened just a sliver, glassy with exhaustion.
"I'm here now," Kusuo said quietly.
He sat back down beside him, smoothing the wrinkled edge of the blanket before gently adjusting the damp cloth on Makoto's forehead. His movements were careful, precise, betraying the tightness in his chest that he refused to name.
Makoto exhaled, weakly amused. "Did you go destroy the government or something?"
Kusuo paused. "...Close."
It was a joke, but it wasn't. Not really.
Makoto's eyelids drooped again, lashes trembling briefly before closing fully. The rise and fall of his chest steadied into a shallow rhythm, but it did little to calm Kusuo's nerves.
He stared at him in silence.
The soft whir of the air conditioning, the distant ticking of a wall clock, everything felt too loud, too sharp. He could hear the fever still smoldering beneath Makoto's skin, the quiet static hum of the system nestled in his mind, and the faint echo of Haruka's voice from earlier, saying things no stalker should know unless someone pointed him in the right direction.
Someone like Kusuke.
Kusuo's jaw clenched. His fingers brushed lightly against Makoto's wrist, checking his pulse, steady but faint, his body still wracked from the overload of stress and heat. Kusuo didn't need to touch him to know that. He'd memorized it days ago. And yet, he still did it.
Because he had to feel it. Because he had to be sure.
Because Kusuke saw this boy, this boy who made Kusuo's world quieter and louder at the same time- as some kind of twisted game. A monkey with a system. A lab rat with expressive eyes and a soul Kusuo could hear without even trying.
Makoto shifted slightly in his sleep, one hand twitching toward him.
Kusuo caught it before it could fall off the bed, wrapping his fingers gently around it. Warm. Clammy. Real.
The next morning, Makoto looked marginally better. His fever had gone down, but he was still confined to bed. Saiki remained by his side for most of the day, quietly reading a book while Makoto dozed.
At one point, Makoto cracked open one eye. "Hey, kusuo."
"Hm."
"Thanks for taking care of me. You probably hate dealing with sick people."
Saiki shrugged. "I've dealt with worse. You're oddly manageable when you're too weak to flirt."
Makoto gave a weak grin. "That sounds like a challenge."
Saiki rolled his eyes but adjusted the blanket around Makoto with surprising care.
By the next day, Makoto had bounced back considerably. His voice had returned, he could sit upright without swaying, and he even managed to eat a full meal.
Kaidou, Aren, and Nendou had sent a flood of messages to the class group chat asking if Makoto would still come to the trip. Nendou even sent a selfie of him pouting with the caption "Kotoooo don't leave me with only these guys! I need my ramen buddy in Okinawa!!"
Makoto laughed, and Saiki handed him his phone back, pretending not to read the other messages pouring in, one of which included a meme Kaidou made of Makoto Photoshopped into an action hero holding coffee jelly.
The day before departure, Makoto and Saiki walked side by side toward school to submit the last of their trip forms. The sun was gentle, the breeze light.
"Are you sure you're okay now?" Saiki asked.
Makoto flashed him a smile. "I got the Saiki Kusuo seal of approval this morning. I must be fine."
Saiki sighed. "Don't push yourself on the trip."
Makoto bumped his shoulder against Saiki's. "If I get sick again, I know who to cling to."
They arrived at school, where the class buzzed with excitement about Okinawa. Bags were packed, souvenirs planned, and outfits coordinated.
"Makoto! You're coming after all!" Yumehara said, approaching them with a relieved smile.
"Of course. Wouldn't miss a class trip with everyone, especially him," Makoto said, gesturing subtly to Saiki, who frowned.
Kaidou sidled up. "We're going to Okinawa... it's the perfect environment for villain activity. I'll stay on high alert."
Aren rolled his eyes. "We're just going to swim and relax."
"And eat!" Nendou said enthusiastically.
Makoto laughed, rubbing his still sore neck. "Can't wait."