The next morning sunlight filtered through the academy windows, spilling gold across the long dining hall. Students gathered in groups, their chatter blending into an indistinct hum. Kuro sat beside Mika, their usual spot tucked at the far end of the table.
Breakfast should have been ordinary, but nothing felt ordinary anymore. Not after yesterday.
Kuro glanced sideways. Mika ate with perfect composure, every movement controlled, every detail polished. But there it was again—that slight stiffness in his shoulders, the way his eyes deliberately avoided Kuro's.
Kuro's lips curved faintly. "You're avoiding me."
Mika didn't look at him. "You're imagining things."
{He's lying.}
[No s*** sherlock. He is lying? Wow, I had no idea that someone would ever be dishonest. It's not like people lie all the time or anything. Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Sherlock Holmes. He's avoiding you harder than I avoid responsibility. Call him out, Kuro. CALL. HIM. OUT.]
{I already did.}
[Then do it harder, dammit!...Heh get it...harder...cause you know...]
Kuro hid a laugh behind his cup, sipping slowly. "If you keep pretending, I might think you're embarrassed."
That earned him a flicker of reaction—the faintest twitch in Mika's jaw, a flash of pale pink across his cheekbones. He set his fork down with delicate precision. "Eat. You'll need your strength for the next class."
"And what class is that?" Kuro leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice so only Mika could hear.
Mika's gaze finally met his, cool and sharp. "Dueling."
The word landed heavy. Kuro blinked. "…We're dueling?"
Mika smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not we. But someone's bound to test you. You're new. An elf. That makes you a target."
[Oh, fantastic. Can't wait to watch you get your pretty face smashed in. Honestly, it might even IMPROVE it.]
{Thanks for the encouragement.}
[You're welcome! I take cash, too.]
{...}
[I'm sorry but sometimes I don't know what you're saying]
{Why do I bother}
Kuro turned back to Mika. "If someone does challenge me, will you watch?"
Mika's lips curved into something dangerously close to a smile. "Always."
Their eyes locked, the world narrowing to just the two of them. Kuro could feel the tension thrum between them again, that invisible string pulling tighter with every heartbeat. His pulse raced, but instead of shying away, he leaned closer, close enough to feel the brush of Mika's breath.
For a second—just one second—it felt like Mika might close the distance. His pale lashes lowered, his hand twitching as though to reach across the table.
But then he pulled back, shattering the moment with a cold tone. "Finish your food. You'll regret it if you don't."
Kuro exhaled softly, fighting a smile. "You always pull away right when it gets interesting."
Mika's eyes flickered, a faint blush betraying him again. "Idiot," he muttered, before focusing intently on his plate as though it held all the secrets of the world.
[OH MY F***ING GOD. He's dying. He wants you so bad it hurts. PUSH HIM, KURO. PUSH HIM OVER THE EDGE.]
{Not yet.}
[You're killing me. Killing me, Kuro. I can't deal with this unresolved sexual tension bulls*** any longer.]
Kuro smiled faintly to himself, his voice gentle when he spoke aloud. "Alright, Mika. I'll eat."
Mika didn't answer, but his fingers—hidden beneath the table—tapped once against Kuro's knee. A fleeting, wordless gesture.
The silence between them was tangled, dangerous, and sweet all at once.