The Monday after the festival felt quieter than usual. The classrooms buzzed with leftover excitement, stories of fireworks and stalls being traded across desks.
Suki plopped into his chair, hugging the giant plush Ryuzí had won for him the night before. His grin was wide, but his cheeks flushed when he glanced sideways at his partner.
Ryuzí sat at the window, staring out as always. But his fingers tapped lightly against the desk, a rhythm Suki had never noticed before. He looked calm... but his ears were faintly red.
Suki bit his lip, hugging the plush tighter. Why does he look... different today?
Kenji leaned over with a smirk. "So, Sunshine. How was your festival date with Takeda?"
"It wasn't a date!" Suki yelped, face flaming.
Across the aisle, Aoi snorted. "You're blushing."
Suki slammed his head onto the desk. "I'm not—!"
But the heat in his cheeks betrayed him. And worse, when he risked a glance at Ryuzí, he found him staring back. Their eyes met—just for a heartbeat.
Ryuzí looked away immediately, ears burning. His chest thumped painfully. Why does it feel like they're right?
At lunch, Suki dragged Ryuzí to the rooftop again. The sky was clear, a soft breeze ruffling their hair.
Suki unwrapped his bento, sneaking glances. Ryuzí sat beside him, eating in silence, but the space between them felt different.
Finally, Suki broke it. "...Hey, Ryuzí."
Ryuzí glanced at him. "...What."
"Do you ever... think about the kiss?"
Ryuzí froze mid-bite. He set his chopsticks down slowly. "...Accident."
"I know!" Suki blurted, waving his hands. "Totally an accident! But..." He trailed off, cheeks pink. "Still. I can't stop thinking about it."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Ryuzí's pulse pounded. He stared at the sky, jaw tight. "...You're not the only one."
Suki's eyes widened. His heart flipped, beating so loud he thought Ryuzí could hear it.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was thick, charged, heavier than any words.
Finally, Suki laughed nervously, scratching his cheek. "Guess... we're both idiots, huh?"
Ryuzí glanced at him, lips twitching faintly. "...Your words, not mine."
But his chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with annoyance.
That evening, Suki lay on his bed, hugging the plush again. His sisters peeked in, smirking.
"You're glowing," Emi teased.
"Shut up!" Suki groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.
But when the door closed, he whispered into the plush: "...It's not just friendship, is it?"
Across town, Ryuzí sat by his window, the city lights twinkling below. He pressed a hand to his lips again, the memory of fireworks and Suki's laugh replaying in his mind.
"...What the hell is happening to me," he muttered, but his chest felt warm instead of heavy.