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Yuuta would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen the signs for the past few days. It began with a subtle sniffle, one evening after a mission that had him exposed to chilling rain for hours. Hoping to ward off the looming cold, he indulged in a scalding shower and sipped a soothing tea before bed, convincing himself he'd nipped in the bud. A few days later, however, when the sensation shifted to a deeper ache in his chest, he knew he'd been pushing himself too hard.
“You’re a mess; you better not get me sick,” Maki demands, rising from the couch and heading towards the kitchen.
Yuuta turns to make a face at her, but a tingling in his sinuses interrupts him. He slides off the couch and onto the floor, quickly leaning forward to snatch the tissues off the table just in time. He sneezes once, twice, thrice before his head falls back onto the couch with a light groan.
Yuuta raises his hands, rubbing them up and down his arms in an attempt to generate some warmth. "It's nothing. I'm fine. It’s just really cold in here."
"It’s really not, though—I’m serious, Yuuta. You don’t look so good." Maki's eyes scan over Yuuta's face, her lips curving into a concerned frown.
Yuuta doesn’t recall Maki slipping out of the room, but he watches, his gaze somewhat glassy, as she reenters a few minutes later, holding something in her hands.
“I don’t want to feel gross later, so that this and get better already,” she remarked, a hint of playful scorn in her tone. She sets down a bottle of water and a container of some medicine on the table before him.
His head was pounding, and swallowing was painful. He was so grateful that Mika had medicine lying around. He hears Maki talking to someone, “Get a load of this guy-” but their voices fade away as he focuses everything on his new mission.
Yuuta manages to open the water bottle and set it on the table, followed by the medicine bottle. His mind a swirl of fog and confusion, he reaches for the pill bottle once more. He tips it over his palm to shake a few pills into his hand, but instead he feels the cool splash of water. "Wait, that was… oh no…"
He watches it all happen as if time itself has slowed, but he can't muster the strength to move, to prevent the water from cascading down. Suddenly, another hand enters his vision and swiftly snatches the bottle from him, placing it safely away on the table. That same hand, a gentle hand, steadies his, as a cloth comes to wipe away the water before attending to the spill on the floor.
Pills get put into his one hand, and the remaining bottle of water into the other. He pops the pills in his mouth and swallows. It hurts more than it should.
“I swear I wasn’t this sick this morning,” Yuuta whines.
A cool hand pressed against his clammy forehead, and Yuuta feels his eyes close at the refreshing sensation.
“Takana.”
Suddenly arms are gripping Yuuta under his arms and lifting him from his comfortable spot on the floor, to the couch behind him. He feels the urge to slowly drift to the side, but Toge, with calculated subtlety, slides in beside him, anchoring an arm around his back. Something is pressing against his hand and- Oh, it’s the water bottle.
With gentle encouragement, Toge guides him to consume the remaining half of the water bottle, responding with a consoling pat on the back when a bout of coughing rattles Yuuta, the source of which– drinking water wrong, or his cold– he isn’t sure. The coughing sends waves of pain through his head, pushing himself to curl inward.
Toge’s arm tightens slightly around him, and Yuuta, interpreting this quiet motion as an offering of solace, adjusts himself to tuck his head into the welcoming crook of Toge’s shoulder. In his semi-coherent state, he maneuvers his legs over Toge’s lap, grasping onto the shorter boy as if he were Yuuta’s anchor to reality. Toge’s unoccupied hand starts to sift through Yuuta’s hair, whispering delicate utterances beneath his breath. Yuuta knew that they were simple recipe ingredients, the same words he heard multiple times a day, but in that moment the tones of comfort weaving through each word somehow made them feel like so much more.
"Don't stop," Yuuta mumbles, his words slurring with exhaustion. Toge responds with a gentle hum, fingers continuing their soothing movement through Yuuta's hair. "Your fingers in my hair– it feels really nice."
He had considered asking Toge for some throat medicine the other day, but the thought seemed inconsiderate, knowing that Toge needed it for himself. If he had done that before maybe he would be sparing Toge having to take care of him now.
He had spent the little free time he had focusing on his school work, and hadn’t been able to leave to go to the convenience store yet, so he had been simply trying to trick himself that he just wasn’t sick. Now his body, rebelling against the neglect, had forced him into a reluctant break, dragging him down into the depths of ailment with no remorse.
Yuuta doesn’t remember when he fell asleep…
-but he certainly remembers waking up.
His pillow rumbles slightly beneath his hands, and Yuuta’s fingers tighten in the soft fabric. There were voices- too many voices, why did they have to be so loud?
Gentle arms scoop him up before standing, drawing him close to a comforting chest. Caught off guard by the sudden motion, Yuuta's eyes flutter open, however the room spins violently, intensifying the relentless ache in his head. Almost reflexively, he burrows his face into the soft junction of a cloth-clad neck, waiting for the spinning world to still.
It should feel awkward, being like this. Shouldn’t it?
Toge holds him as if he were something precious and fragile, and a pang of guilt brushes against Yuuta’s consciousness for relishing in the gentle warmth and the firm contours of Toge's form against his.
Perhaps, if he were in better health, he would have pulled away, stammering out some flimsy excuses. But, in this weakened state, he lacks the energy to entertain such thoughts.
He permits himself the indulgence of intimacy that he normally tries so hard to avoid.
Until he feels the direction that Toge has started walking in.
“No, wait, I don’t want to go to my room, please?” Yuuta’s voice is weak, a subtle hint of desperation lining each word as he twists, attempting to wriggle free from the confining embrace holding him.
Living alone definitely had its perks, but it was not without some heavy drawbacks. The sense of freedom that comes with personal space is unparalleled; the ability to shower at will, to have unchallenged control over the TV remote, and to stay up late without the guilt of disturbing another are undeniable advantages.
However, hidden underneath all the glamour was a pervasive silence. Yuuta of course had Rika for occasional companionship when she felt like being corporeal. Their interactions, albeit simple, brought a semblance of shared existence, a fleeting respite in an isolated world. The occasional shared TV sessions and the simple conversations fill his space, and her presence is a reassurance against the fear of intruders busting down the cheap locks on his apartment door.
Yet, when illness struck, Rika’s efforts were insignificant; her inability to wrap her claws around a delicate glass, or to run out to buy medicine, rendering her a silent observer to his suffering. Her silent presence a constant reminder of his eternal isolation as he lays writhing, a plea for aid lingering with every breathless gasp.
It was lonely, so very lonely.
The thought of being restricted to the confines of his bed, to the multiple days of suffering in silence, is the last thing he wanted. Why couldn’t he just immerse himself in his work? Was it so bad to find solace in his missions, and to feign wellness until it went away? He wanted to stay here, to stay by his friends’ sides. He could prove that he wasn’t weak, that he deserved to be here. Why couldn’t he just stay with Toge? Please don’t toss me away so easily.
“Don’t worry Yuuta,” Maki’s voice booms above him, and Yuuta thinks he might die from the way the sound bounces between his ears. When did Maki even get here? “We’re just going to make sure you’re in a good place to rest.”
“I was already resting just fine,” Yuuta attempts to protest, but his voice betrays him, rough and raspy. A bout of coughing seizes him, sending sharp spikes of pain from the crown of his head, coursing through his neck, shoulders, and down to his legs.
“Quit your whining Yuuta, Toge had me pick you up some proper medicine so he can coddle you like the baby you are.” Maki’s words sounded harsh, but you always had to read between the lines with her. The gentle squeeze of his shoulder was a silent whisper of her concern, a tactile assurance revealing her care, otherwise why would she be walking down the hallway with them in the first place?
“Besides,” Maki persists, a teasing lilt to her voice, “You couldn’t have been remotely comfortable; you were pretzeled up on less than half the couch, all curled up against Toge.”
But that was what made it comfortable, Yuuta silently protests with a pout. “You just don’t get it. It’s fine.” It’s not like that was something he could say out loud.
From ahead of them now, Maki laughs, opening the door to his room and opting to turn on the light on his nightstand instead of his main room light. “Oh, don’t worry Yuuta, I get it.”
“Okaka!”
Hands tighten around him, ever-so-slightly, and Yuuta shifts his gaze to Maki. She wears a smirk, one that seems to say she knows all of their secrets. He’s at a loss about what she could possibly be hinting at, but there’s a part of him that wants to swipe that knowing grin right off her face for insinuating something that bothered Toge.
“Oh, don’t worry Toge,” Maki sets down a bag, and the contents within jostle and clash, each vying for a place on the floor. “Your ‘secret’ is safe.”
Toge doesn’t spare a glance in her direction as she exits; he walks to the bed and gently lays Yuuta down, adjusting the pillows to prop him up, just enough to maybe allow for comfortable drinking. What secret was Maki talking about? Wait, drinking sounded good. Oh, that was an idea. He was so thirsty.
The mattress dips slightly when Toge sits on the edge. He starts to unload the contents of the bag Maki had brought onto the nightstand, revealing a collection of essentials such as sports drinks, cough and flu medicines, tissues, and cooling patches for fever.
Yuuta sees Toge all the time, he's familiar with every facet of his presence, but there's a distinct difference between looking at someone and truly seeing them.
Toge’s hair, which used to be rebellious and spiky, has grown out, now falling gently around his face in soft waves. His soft purple eyes are a captivating blend of vibrance and intensity, focusing diligently on the task at hand. They are so enchanting that they nearly make Yuuta overlook the exquisite length and curl of his lashes, a feature many would pay to replicate. His features aren’t overly delicate, but each one is distinct and striking.
Even when his eyes feel like they’re burning, Toge is undeniably beautiful.
His typically zipped-up high collar is partially undone, revealing a glimpse of the white t-shirt beneath and allowing a fuller view of his face. What really captures Yuuta’s attention, however, is the face mask obscuring the lower half of Toge’s face. He couldn't recall when Toge had put it on– perhaps Maki had handed it to him when they were cozied up on the couch- after he had fallen asleep.
Yuuta didn’t think he could feel any warmer, but realizing that their earlier positions could definitely be construed as snuggling on the couch sends a fervent blush across his face. Toge was only helping to clean up a mess, and here Yuuta was, repaying him by crawling all over him, seeking refuge.
Oh… my god. No wonder Maki was teasing Toge, having to put up with Yuuta’s ridiculous behaviour.
Toge shifts, turning to face him now, and Yuuta becomes acutely aware that he's maneuvered himself into a sitting position. Their closeness is undeniable; Toge’s face is right there. Yuuta swallows thickly, a tense and pained groan reverberating in his throat as he involuntarily closes his eyes at the sensation.
Toge's strength was something to be admired. Yuuta thinks of the many times he'd witnessed Toge push beyond his limits, using his Cursed Speech until his voice was reduced to a raspy whisper, pushing past the raw burn in his throat, persisting even when strained beyond limits, yet never once did he falter or complain. And here was Yuuta, feeling fragile from a simple sickness.
The back of Toge’s hand gently rests on Yuuta’s forehead before drifting down to his cheek. If his lips were visible, a frown would no doubt be noticeable, the heat radiating from Yuuta silently raising his concern.
“Sujiko, ” Toge observes softly, prompting Yuuta to open his eyes and meet his gaze.
Then, the routine of medication begins. Toge, showing nothing but patience, loosens the lid of a sports drink and hands it to Yuuta, urging him to sip. The medicine that follows is a different kind from earlier, tasting gross but more apparently more beneficial to alleviate his severe symptoms. Yuuta manages to swallow it down, suppressing coughs, his body tensing momentarily against the unpleasant taste until he can grab the fruity drink again. Finally, Toge selects a cooling patch, his fingers gently brushing away Yuuta’s bangs before placing it tenderly on his heated forehead.
Without being asked, without a hint of reluctance or annoyance, Toge is devoting his entire evening to him. This act of kindness is beyond anything Yuuta had dared to hope for when he was being carried to his room. Having been alone for so long, Yuuta had forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by people who genuinely cared.
It’s a kindness that fills Yuuta with a happiness so heartfelt that it brings a different kind of pain to his throat, the kind that comes when one struggles to hold back tears.
With a gentle hand on Yuuta’s shoulder, Toge signals for him to recline and move further down into the bed. Yuuta complies, and Toge ensures he's comfortably positioned before leaning over to switch off the lamp, presumably to then leave the room. It’s at this moment that Yuuta’s heartbeat quickens, and he reaches out, gripping Toge’s wrist.
“I…uh…” I don’t want to be alone, “I’m sorry, I mean…” Please don’t leave me here, “Will you…”
Even through the mask, Yuuta can see that Toge's gentle smile remains unwavering. His understanding and patience serve as a soothing balm, reassuring Yuuta that, even if he feels like a complete wreck, Toge doesn’t perceive him that way. After many years of being labeled ‘the weird kid,’ experiencing such kindness is both refreshing and comforting.
With a soft click, the room is submerged in darkness. Then—he doesn’t leave¬¬—with elegant ease, Toge moves to occupy the limited space between Yuuta and the wall.
Toge shifts to lie on his side, letting an arm rest lightly across Yuuta's middle. Responding to the soft contact, Yuuta adjusts slightly, eliminating any residual space between them. He nestles his head on the pillow, the proximity allowing him to feel Toge's warmth enveloping him from behind, a comforting presence in the silent darkness.
Yuuta had always struggled with sleep, a challenge that persisted even when illness weighed on him. Yet, with Toge's reassuring presence beside him, Yuuta found himself gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.
When Yuuta next opens his eyes, the landscape around him is fractured; a desolate plane where burnt and broken-down houses lay scattered like skeletal remains, whispers of their former lives lingering in the air.
Off in the distance, curses move in a grotesque dance, their dance a twisted blend of grace and violence. Yuuta’s feet start to move, compelling him towards the spectral dancers, but the ground beneath him feels like molasses, obstructing every step, engulfing his feet in its suffocating embrace. His legs burn with invisible fire as he moves forward, the pain radiating through his body in waves, while the voices in his head are drowned out by tormented screams, urging him to run faster.
His eyes, desperate and searching, find no sign of Maki or Panda, but an ominous intuition cling to his mind, whispering tales of their fall in this spectral warfare. Somehow, he knows they’re already gone. He finally gets closer, and the agonizing reality unfolds; Toge, alone in his struggle against the malevolent curses.
Yuuta’s heart races, each beat a painful reminder of his helplessness as he watches Toge evade, flip, and retaliate, his Cursed Speech slicing through the air, a symphony of power and sacrifice.
“Rikaaa!” The powerful curse bound to him, is summoned forth, and without needing any further command starts speeding towards the violent dance, her ethereal form the only beacon of hope in the tortured landscape.
But before she can reach the chaotic battle, tragedy strikes. A curse, malicious and swift, pierces through Toge's heart.
Time seems to warp, the world around him descending into chaos, as he watches Toge crumble to the ground, the vibrant spark in his eyes dimming, leaving Yuuta drowning in a sea of helpless, gnawing agony.
A storm of fear and despair constricts around Yuuta’s soul, a harrowing echo of the fragile balance between strength and vulnerability, love and loss, hope and crushing despair, the image of a lifeless Toge Inumaki.
The realm of nightmarish anguish shifts, and Yuuta is suddenly, cruelly, brought face-to-face with Toge. The surrounding buildings are imprisoned by fire, monstrous tongues of flame clawing at the scorched heavens above. He falls to his knees beside Toge, hand trembling as he reaches out to caress his friend’s face, a touch so soft it’s akin to a wistful whisper against his skin.
“No, no, please, Toge,” he begs, his frame contorts with sorrow. "Not this, don't make me go through this again! Don't leave me alone again!" His voice fractures, every word laced with increasing despair, his pleas more fervent, his soul more fragmented.
As his fingers graze Toge's face, the unexpected horror unfolds; a curse, dark and malevolent, oozes from Toge’s lifeless form, emitting a screech of such high pitch that Yuuta clamps his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block it out. But the sound penetrates every defense, every barrier, vibrating within his very soul.
The raw anguish in Yuuta’s whisper vibrates through the air, "Oh god," his voice cracks, pieces of his soul breaking away with the revelation. "I did it again… why… How could I? Toge… Not you Toge, never you— I’m so, so sorry…" His sanity wavers, a fragile thread on the verge of snapping, every uttered word drenched in remorse and self-loathing.
Yuuta knows full well that love is not merely an emotion; it’s a force, a potent entity, it’s the kind of love that binds, that envelops, strong enough to tether a soul to the mortal plane, strong enough to twist the natural order of things. His fervent desire for Toge to remain, to not be swallowed by the abyss of death, has ensnared Toge, whom he cherished, in a cursed existence, just like Rika’s.
Yuuta wakes up screaming.
Yuuta's consciousness catapults back to reality, a piercing scream tearing through the silence. His surroundings, initially blurred, gradually mold back into the familiarity of his room, lit only by the moon’s gentle glow. He is frantic, his limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to escape, to save…
It’s Toge.
Toge is there, perched with a leg on either side of Yuuta's hips, straddling him. His hold on Yuuta’s wrists is firm yet gentle, an anchor grounding him in reality, preventing him from hurting himself- or Toge- in his panicked state. His eyes, shadowed yet luminous in the dim light, are filled with worry and a trace of something else, something deeper.
Yuuta’s chest heaves, drawing in air in ragged, desperate gulps as he attempts to dispel the remnants of the haunting nightmare, images of a world set aflame and Toge's fall painfully vivid in his psyche. His eyes, brimming with unshed tears and widened with lingering fear, find Toge’s, seeking, yearning for the reassurance of his presence, of his reality.
Slowly, the steadiness returns to Yuuta’s breaths, the solid and grounding presence of Toge above him serving as a balm to his chaotic thoughts. Toge’s grip on his wrists relaxes, but he remains in position, probably waiting to ensure that Yuuta is fully grounded in reality, no longer entrapped in the horrific visions of his nightmare, before he considers moving.
A shiver runs through Yuuta's body as the panic recedes, and he blinks rapidly, fighting to banish the remnants of haunting images embedded in his mind. Toge's presence slowly untangles the strings of terror woven around his heart, but it requires a moment before his body consents him to breathe, to think clearly again.
"Yuuta," Toge murmurs softly, his voice a pacifying comfort against the sting of residual fear. It is the beacon of light guiding Yuuta out of the darkness, reminding him of where he is, who he is with.
The nightmare is over; he is safe.
With the fog cleared, Yuuta locks eyes with Toge, tears streaming in torrents down his cheeks, dampening the flush beneath. His words, stumbling and broken, emerge between sobs, “Toge… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I couldn’t save you–”
Toge, looking slightly taken aback, tentatively reaches out, perhaps aiming to gently push the hair away from Yuuta's eyes in a comforting gesture. But Yuuta, propelled by relief, surges forward and enfolds his arms tightly around Toge’s waist instead. His head is aflame with fever, his legs twisted in the bed sheets, and he’s likely staining Toge’s shirt with his tears, but none of that matters now.
It was just a dream.
Toge is here. Toge is alive. Toge is safe.
It means everything.
Yuuta clings to Toge with an intensity fueled by the pain of vivid dreams and reality intertwined, his breath hitching as he attempts to verbalize the turmoil within him.
“I’m so, so sorry, Toge,” he chokes out, words stumbling over each other. “Everything—it’s all my fault. I couldn’t protect you; my legs were stuck; I was so slow. Rika didn’t make it either, but she tried. I- I just ruin everything, hurting everyone that matters.” The words spill forth unrestrained, a torrent of regret and self-condemnation.
“Please forgive me,” he sobs, the breaths between his words shaky and uneven, “For cursing you with my feelings, for not being strong enough to keep you safe. I would give anything, anything to take away your pain, to make you happy…”
His ramblings are a confession, a plea, a lamentation—all pouring forth unfiltered as he clings to Toge, seeking solace in his presence, yearning for the redemption he feels he doesn't deserve.
Toge cannot respond to the torrent of words with his own, he should not, as the painful admissions spill from Yuuta's lips, but his presence can only do so much, as his arms wrapped protectively around Yuuta.
“Shhhh Yuuta, Sujiko… Mentaiko. ”
His hand tenderly cradles the back of Yuuta’s head, fingers weaving gently through his hair, while his other arm encircles securely around his shoulders. He dips and offers the soft press of his lips to Yuuta's head, striving to anchor him in a reality where he is alive, where he is safe.
Toge had never witnessed Yuuta's nightmares until now, but he hopes that this isn't their usual course. It's been hours since Yuuta drifted off; perhaps the medication's effects have worn off?
Yuuta's cries subside, replaced by ragged breaths and hiccups. As a semblance of calm returns, Toge gently pulls away just enough to press the back of his hand against Yuuta’s forehead, gauging the fervor of his fever.
The contact is brief, yet it’s enough to feel the worrying intensity of Yuuta's fever, explaining the extreme distress after his unsettling dream. Worry etches deeper lines into Toge's expression.
With gentle movements, Toge carefully disentangles himself from the bed, ensuring his departure doesn't thrust Yuuta back into a well of sorrow. He reaches for the array of remedies arranged on the nightstand- water, medicine, cooling patches, hoping to alleviate Yuuta’s suffering and quell the inferno raging within him.
Toge attends to Yuuta with a familiar grace, following the nurturing regimen they had established earlier—guiding him to drink, administering medicine, and placing a cooling patch to alleviate the fever’s heat.
Toge pauses for a moment before lowering his mask briefly. Then, with refined gentleness, he holds Yuuta’s face softly between his hands. His touch is light, cautious, a subtle breeze against Yuuta’s feverish skin. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the side of Yuuta’s forehead.
Toge grabs another sports drink, briefly allowing himself a sip before making his way back to the bed, securing his mask once again. He meticulously arranges his pillow to maintain a blend of support and comfort, then gently positions Yuuta to recline between his legs, leaning against his chest. This allows Yuuta to continue sipping the drink Toge offers, aiding his body in combating the fever.
Toge's spare arm encircles Yuuta's waist, the grip gentle yet reassuring. The ambient sounds of the night paired with the rhythmic thud of Toge's heartbeat form a calming lullaby for Yuuta.
The speed at which he begins to drift to sleep is unprecedented, especially considering his usual bouts of insomnia. Yet, shortly after finishing his drink, Yuuta finds himself teetering between consciousness and the realm of dreams, finding solace within the protective embrace of Toge’s arms as his rampant fever pulls him under again.
Yuuta awakens to the embrace of golden sunlight filtering gently through the curtains. A glance at the clock surprises him — it's just past noon, unusually late for his regular routine. He’s puzzled, figuring he must have appeared genuinely ill yesterday if he was allowed to sleep through training and classes like this.
His mouth feels so dry, and as his tongue explores his mouth, he can feel the terrible breath he must have. Though his muscles are tinged with residual soreness, he feels leaps and bounds better than the previous day
Turning his attention to his surroundings, he notices several empty drink bottles scattered on the floor. Two more, still sealed, sit on his nightstand, accompanied by a variety of medication boxes and containers.
Oh?
Suddenly, an arm tightens around his waist gently, and every fiber of Yuuta’s being springs to alertness, bathed in the sudden awareness of a presence intertwined with his own. Curled up on his side, enveloped by a solid form pressing against him from behind, conforming to every curve and contour of his body. Fleeting breaths, warm and rhythmic, whisper against his nap as Toge pulls him even closer.
Oh.
The realization hits him like a tidal wave, making his heart race, his thoughts a chaotic swirl as he tries to process waking up in such intimate proximity to Toge.
It wasn't just the physical proximity that twisted his insides—it was the swell of emotions, memories, and secret yearnings that threatened to overflow. The countless times he'd caught himself stealing glances, the way his heart pounded just a bit harder when Toge's laughter reached his ears, the inexplicable warmth that bloomed within him whenever they shared a quiet moment.
Yuuta had been labeling it as friendship, these feelings that were trying to forcefully claw their way out of him.
He had spent so long trying to shove his feelings into a box that they didn’t fit in, in the hopes that somehow, that’s what they would become.
But as he lies here, Toge’s fingers grazing the exposed skin of his stomach beneath his shirt, denial seems an unaffordable luxury. It is crystal clear, more so than ever, how his heart truly feels. With Toge's every gesture, every glance, and every spoken word, Yuuta felt pulled into the gravitational force of something deeper, something he'd been trying to elude.
Yuuta struggles to rein in his spiraling thoughts. He doesn’t feel ready to confront this, to get rejected, he’s not strong enough, not yet; but it seems his heart has other plans, allowing hopes to bloom uncontrollably, colors painting his gray world, whispering of possibilities he dared not voice before.
His mind soon drifts away once more, allowing the soothing embrace and the lingering warmth to lull him back into the restful realms of slumber. The feeling of being securely held, the gentle rhythm of Toge’s breathing syncing with his own, serves as a serene melody, reassuring his heart and calming his tumultuous thoughts – just this once.
Over the next few days, everything changed.
Maki was brimming with delight as she narrated the tale of Toge’s tender care for an ailing Yuuta. She relished recounting how Yuuta had clumsily sought refuge in Toge’s arms on the couch and the way Toge had lovingly stroked his hair.
She gleefully added details of Toge shielding him from the ‘overbearing Maki,’ and not only carrying him to bed but also remaining by his side until he was on the mend.
Yuuta’s cheeks were painted in shades of pink at the recollections. It was a while before he could muster the courage to meet Toge’s eyes without being overwhelmed by embarrassment. When he did finally lift his gaze, he was met with a surprising softness in Toge’s eyes, a tender lingering gaze.
The change in their dynamic was subtle, at first. There was a magnetic pull, drawing Yuuta closer to Toge, seeking his presence more and more, creating reasons to be near him, to touch him, even for the simplest of reasons, like removing a stray leaf from his hair, or steadying him after a playful shove from Maki.
What Yuuta hadn't immediately recognized was that Toge wasn't just a passive participant in this new dance of closeness; he too was crafting these situations, initiating these gentle brushes of contact. There was a silent reciprocity to their actions, suggesting that their growing closeness was a mutual endeavor.
Each fleeting interaction felt like a stolen moment, and Yuuta constantly awaited the moment Toge would pull away. He expected Toge to recognize the depth of his feelings and to distance himself. However, to Yuuta’s surprise and relief, Toge remained close, not putting any walls up, no steps taken backward.
Maki, never one to withhold her observations, was quick to point out the newfound closeness between Yuuta and Toge. With a mix of teasing and sincerity, she described their interactions as adorable, nauseating, and long overdue.
One morning after breakfast, Toge's fingers sought out Yuuta's, covering his hand where it rested innocently on the table. As Toge met Yuuta's eyes, one raised eyebrow silently challenged him, a playful hint of defiance shining through. In response, Yuuta rotated his hand, allowing their fingers to interlock.
Emotions roared inside Yuuta; the electrifying thrill of excitement, the gnawing anxiety of uncertainty, and the heavy weight of expectation, each churning within him, creating a flutter akin to a swarm of butterflies.
With measured pace, Yuuta leans forward, eliminating the space separating them. His movements show, as if fearing Toge might vanish into thin air. He braces for Toge to retract, to withdraw from their shared closeness.
When their lips finally meet, it is the softest of touches, like two butterflies dancing in the morning air. It was delicate, cautious, an exploration of new boundaries.
Yuuta’s heart raced, the sound of it thundering loudly in his ears. Every fear, every insecurity, threatening to break the fragile moment.
He feels the light press of Toge’s fingers on his face, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. It wasn’t passionate or demanding, but instead, full of unspoken confessions, whispered promises, and a tenderness that Yuuta had never experienced before.
When they pull apart, a gentle smile graces Toge’s lips, mirroring the softness in his eyes. The simple gesture washed away Yuuta’s lingering fears, replaced by a warmth that spread throughout his body.
“So I think… I should get sick more often?” Yuuta teased.
Toge responded with a narrowed gaze and a light smack to Yuuta's head, uttering a single, affectionate reprimand, "Okaka."
“Ow, Toge I was joking… but do you think you could kiss it better?”