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When Kazuha was six, he met the beautiful boy.
Kunikuzushi was seven with squishy cheeks and curses for words. He ruled the playground and bullied other kids into giving him their candy. Kazuha wanted to talk to him, to be friends with him, but not in the way Kunikuzushi had heard before. He wanted to say your confidence is magnetic and please let me be your friend. Wanted to say we would be wonderful together, and he did, because he was merely six years old and children had confidence unrivaled.
Kazuha was six when Kunikuzushi laughed at his face. At first, his heart laid bare on the muddy grass, lips pulling down at the blatant rejection. That was, until Kunikuzushi took his hand and leaned in, as if sharing the location of a secret treasure, and said with clumsy curses, “If you’re a shit friend, you’re out of my kingdom!”
The kingdom was the playground, and Kazuha was a knight.
Kunikuzushi’s on his bed, sniffling into the high-end sweater Ningguang bought for him as an apology for not coming home for weeks. Snot dribbled down Kunikuzushi’s nose as Kazuha wrapped his arms around the beautiful boy. He had finished helping the maids clean up dinner when the doorbell rang and Kunikuzushi stood on the other side, carrying a space-themed backpack with angry tears in his eyes. Kazuha could only blink once before Kunikuzushi shoved past him and marched to his bedroom.
He asked what the problem was, but all he got were glares and huffs. Ningguang was reluctant to let Kunikuzushi sleep here, because do we have permission from his parents? Is this a runaway child? But Beidou kissed the frown off her lips and ushered the kids into Kazuha’s bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” Kazuha tried asking once again.
Kunikuzushi snuggled further into his sweater. A wet patch was beginning to form, and Kazuha’s back ached at this angle, but Kunikuzushi didn’t have to know that.
When the heartbeat against his chest slowed, Kunikuzushi interrupted the silence. He said, quietly, “My mom is mean.”
“Oh,” was all Kazuha could say, when what he truly wanted to say was whenever your mom is mean, you could stay here with me and I’ll never be mean to you. But he didn’t, of course. Instead, his arms tightened and they slept.
He lied. He didn’t sleep that night.
Kunikuzushi is pretty, Kazuha thought as he stared at the beautiful boy in his arms. Kazuha could hold him, but he still couldn’t quite understand him. All he had were broken pieces of a painting, left on the floor for him to pick up and piece together.
But that was alright. If Kunikuzushi was a painting, Kazuha would analyze every stroke of the brush it took to make him.
When Kunikuzushi was fifteen, Kazuha found out he’s in love.
It was like walking for days in a desert; drying out under the sun, your limbs falling off, and your tongue withering up. Like your ribs opening apart and your lungs squeezing in on itself every time Kunikuzushi smiled, a sight so rare Kazuha didn’t dare say anything in those moments—determined to relish it for as long as possible.
It didn’t last long, though. Kunikuzushi must have felt his stare, and the smile fell off his lips. “The fuck are you looking at?”
“You,” said Kazuha before he could think, because he never thought about thinking with Kunikuzushi.
Kunikuzushi’s hands stopped scribbling over their physics worksheet. Kazuha had said a dumb physics joke he found on Google in hopes of making Kunikuzushi laugh while studying—it worked. At the pause, Kazuha’s mind scrambled for something to say, to salvage the situation from the air growing heavier and heavier above them.
“—your answers. I am looking at your answers,” Kazuha rushed to say. He picked up his pencil and only smiled when Kunikuzushi smacked his head with a “stop leeching off me, asshole.”
Of course, Kazuha wouldn’t mention how his heart stuttered when Kunikuzushi leaned close to peer at his paper, wrinkling his nose as he pointed out Kazuha’s wrong answers. Their arms brushed and Kazuha’s heart wouldn’t stop beating, but that was strange. His heart always beat. Only this time, it beat along with the sound of Kunikuzushi explaining how Erwin Schrödinger proposed the quantum model of atoms.
Kazuha’s waiting under a bus stop with the beautiful boy fast asleep on his shoulder. They had sneaked out of their own homes and spent the night enjoying the new carnival in town. A big, plushie of a menacing shark with four eyes was tucked under Kunikuzushi’s arm, a toy he stole from an unsuspecting kid.
Kazuha didn’t say anything on how Kunikuzushi’s other arm curled possessively around his own even in sleep. Kazuha was also not going to say how his shoulder was beginning to get a little numb under the weight, because Kunikuzushi looked breathtakingly peaceful asleep.
And they stayed like this until the bus came, and Kazuha wouldn't tell Kunikuzushi that he loved him, but he loved him. Loved him in the way flowers blossomed in his heart whenever Kunikuzushi scrunched his nose. Loved him in the way he’ll ditch kendo training after school so Kunikuzushi didn’t have to walk home alone. He loved him in the way he’ll bring two ear muffs to school during cold days, because Kunikuzushi “could handle the cold” but he’ll be the first person in the room to sneeze. And Kazuha loved him in the way he’ll stay up until three in the morning to listen to Kunikuzushi rant about psychological tricks over the phone even when his eyes cried for sleep, because hearing this beautiful boy be so passionate about something he loved was so endearing for some reason Kazuha could cry.
(Tomo called him whipped and down horrendous, and Kazuha would say that’s okay. Because the rare stardust in Kunikuzushi’s eyes whenever he wasn't in a bad mood was enough.)
And maybe, some day, Kunikuzushi’s eyes could soften the slightest bit with Kazuha. But if not, that’s alright.
Kazuha wouldn’t tell Kunikuzushi that he loved him, but archons, did he love him.
Kunikuzushi was seventeen when Kazuha fell inexplicably deeper into the moon.
(“Who’s your boyfriend?” Kazuha tried to smile, chest squeezing and squeezing into itself until he felt dirty, like he’s done something terrible, like he shoved himself into his own grave, and he’s tired.
Kunikuzushi paused. Then he frowned. “How’d you know?”
“You’re popular if you’ve forgotten.”
“Ah…” Kunikuzushi’s brows creased harder and it was off. And he wasn’t telling Kazuha something, and that should’ve hurt less than it did. “His name’s Katsuragi.”
“Katsuragi.” Kazuha nodded, a smile frozen on his face.
Kunikuzushi looked at him with something in his eyes, but who was he to decipher it? So Kazuha nodded again, nodded and nodded until his movements weakened and his ribs cracked and his heart bled.
“What the fuck?” Kunikuzushi held Kazuha’s arm, keeping him upright. “Shit, are you crying?”
Kazuha laughed, head tilted back as the sound reverberated in his chest. He was crying, and archons, he really was crying. And since Kunikuzushi had always told him to learn how to be fucking selfish for once, Kazuha reached up a hand to cup Kunikuzushi’s cheek. Truly, the boy still looked beautiful through his own tearful gaze.
“It’s the rain overflowing,” said Kazuha, memorizing the softness of the skin under his palm.
“It’s not raining, dumbass.”
“I’m just happy for you.” He smiled wider, hand dropping to his side before Kunikuzushi could notice the way they trembled. “Who knew a grump like you could get a boyfriend?”
“Fuck off!”
And they walked the rest of their way home like that. Maybe the archons pitied Kazuha, or they felt for his cry, as droplets of water fell halfway through to match his tears.
He’s under an umbrella with the beautiful boy, and now, he truly couldn’t say he loved him.)
Kazuha’s in an ice cream shop with the beautiful boy, eating a plain vanilla cone as he asked question after question to the boy sitting across from him. They finished all their classes for the day and the moment Kazuha stepped out into the hallway, whispers about a break-up spread throughout the school.
“... what happened?” Kazuha tried asking when his ice cream lost its appeal.
Kunikuzushi ignored him, leaning back on his seat to glare at his strawberry cone in hand.
“Kuni,” said Kazuha. “Tell me?”
Kunikuzushi glared at the ice cream for five more seconds until he sighed. Kazuha wondered if Katsuragi had to drill Kunikuzushi like this for information, or if Kuni opened up to him right away.
“Katsu and I broke up,” was all Kunikuzushi said, and left the air longing.
Katsu .
Even Kazuha didn’t have a nickname like that.
“Oh.” Kazuha averted his gaze to stare at the white marble table in between them. In the background, the girl behind the counter called a customer for their order. “I’m sorry.”
Kunikuzushi looked up, and he stared at Kazuha with this look in his eyes. He’s seen this look before. On many occasions whenever they laughed over a joke until their stomachs ached, and whenever Kazuha’s chest blossomed with so many flowers he could cry. And this—this look was unreadable, yet it placed a lingering air in between them. Kazuha should be ashamed of himself, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t when his eyes meeting with Kunikuzushi’s, something they’ve done a hundred times, felt so new that he could figure out a way to say i love you a thousand times differently.
Kunikuzushi dragged his gaze to his ice cream. “Aren’t you gonna ask why we broke up?”
“I wished to respect your privacy, but now that you are asking… Why?”
“Why the fuck do you think so?”
“What?”
“You tell me,” said Kunikuzushi, giving him that look again. He said—no, he demanded, “Why’d I break up with Katsu?”
Kazuha gave him a dead-fish stare. “How am I supposed to know?”
“I’m asking why you think I did it. Answer me.”
Kazuha sighed, but he answered anyway. Kunikuzushi was talking again, which at least, was better than moments ago.
“Katsuragi seems decent,” said Kazuha, controlling his voice from doing anything out of the ordinary. “He’s kind hearted, intelligent, and talented in kendo. He’s also very well spoken.”
And there it was again, Kunikuzushi staring at him with that look .
Kazuha continued, each word he says a punch to the gut, “Katsuragi seems like the perfect significant other. I don’t understand why you broke up with him.”
Kunikuzushi’s ice cream melted, pink cream sticking in between his fingers, but he didn’t do anything about it. He sat there, staring at Kazuha for seconds like eons.
“That’s it?” Kunikuzushi’s voice was tight, a tinge of disappointment in it, too.
And because Kazuha’s an idiot, his heart broke. “I’ve said my turn. You tell me the real reason why.”
A silence stretched between them, before Kunikuzushi said, “He’s boring.”
“Boring?”
“Yeah, he’s fucking boring. Annoying, too. Most of the time. And he…” Kunikuzushi stared hard at the table, lips pursing. “He doesn’t understand me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
The strawberry ice cream continued to melt, and Kazuha knew how Kunikuzushi liked staying clean. So he got a napkin from the side of the table, gently picked up the beautiful boy’s hand, and wiped the mess away.
“You like to stay clean,” Kazuha simply said.
Kunikuzushi didn’t reply.
The second time Kunikuzushi gave him that look, it was during Kamisato Ayato’s house party. Arataki Itto challenged Kazuha to a drinking competition wherein they used one leg to stand on a stool while continuously taking shots. The first person to lose their balance loses. Kazuha, who had experienced drinking from mixing martinis for Beidou and Ningguang, accepted.
So here he was, one leg rooted on a shaky wooden stool as he steadily downed his sixth shot. In front of him, Itto wobbled on his stool as Ayato filmed the entire thing, grinning so wide while Thoma sweated beads behind him. The crowd below them cheered, “Drink, drink, drink!” and dispersed as Itto lost his balance and tumbled down.
Kazuha grinned lazily as he downed one more shot before jumping down. He tossed the cup to the floor and held out a hand to Itto, who groaned on the floor. “You did well, Arataki.”
Itto slapped his hand and rolled flat on his stomach, face scrunched up. “I’ll get you next time…”
Ayato crouched down to shove his phone to Itto’s face. “Hey chat, look at this loser and—” The phone moved to capture Kazuha. “Look at this WINNER! I’m sure everyone knows who golden boy is—”
Kazuha's in an Uber with the beautiful boy, and Kunikuzushi held his arm too tight as they drove to Ei’s mansion under stars trying to shine through a polluted sky. His mind was hazy, and Kunikuzushi glared at the window, and he couldn’t help but love how the city lights reflected off Kunikuzushi’s eyes, creating its very own runway billboard. And, as always, that same wormy feeling entered Kazuha’s stomach and he reached out to trace the lines on Kunikuzushi’s brows, hoping to unfurl the frown.
“You’re so cute,” murmured Kazuha, resting his cheek on Kunikuzushi’s shoulder, who tensed under him.
Kunikuzushi scoffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not cute. And you’re fucking drunk, so shut up.”
“Mmm…” Kazuha shut his eyes and relished Kunikuzushi’s warmth under him. His next words were easy to say; fluid, running water falling off his lips, but they were said with such care only for the beautiful boy to hear. “Kuni is cute. If I could, I’d definitely date you. I mean, I’d go out with you right now, if you wanted.”
The Uber ran over a bump and Kazuha’s eyes snapped open. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, fuck. His cheek dug into the bone of Kunikuzushi's shoulder, and his neck ached at this angle, but he didn’t dare look up and stared hard on the back of the driver’s seat. His heartbeat echoed in his ears. And something—something hopeful blossomed in his chest at the increasing silence he didn't dare interrupt, afraid he'd cut off or speak over Kunikuzushi's response—may it be a single word, or a thousand, it was a reply capable of holding Kazuha by the neck, leaving him to wait in bated breath for an answer that could release the hitch of his throat.
Because maybe, just maybe.
Under him, Kunikuzushi did not move. Like all the air inside him stilled, kept in there until Kunikuzushi scoffed and said his next words, “I forgot how annoying you are drunk.”
Kazuha didn’t know what he expected, didn’t know what he wanted, but his heart cracked all the same. Like waking up from a century old sleep, Kazuha sat up straight with careful movements and glanced at Kunikuzushi, who went back to glaring at the window as if it was the root of all problems. The passing lights reflected off Kunikuzushi’s skin, accentuating the plush of those cheeks and the plump of his pout. And it took everything for Kazuha to not tell him that he loved him, and he’s choking down the feeling, and his vision was blurring, and he's running a hand through his hair to hide its tremble. Hopelessly, he laughed.
Kunikuzushi paused in his glaring, and glanced at him. “What’re you laughing for?”
“As I thought…” A raw laugh bubbled from his throat, and if he were less drunk, he would’ve hid the pain in his voice a little better. He ran another hand through his hair and smiled at Kunikuzushi, who stared at him with that look. “You really are adorable, Kuni.” He leaned his head back on the seat, and Rex Orange County's 'Corduroy Dreams' played in the background as Kazuha hoped the night hid his blurring vision. His voice simmered under the fragile air when he whispered, "I love you so much," and controlled his fingers from trembling as the beautiful boy's mouth opened and closed. “God, you're so cute you're gonna make me cry.”
They never spoke about that night, and that was alright.
Kazuha promised himself to never slip up like that again. His love may be unbearable, but losing his friendship with Kunikuzushi would be more excruciating than having a thousand needles tear him apart, limb by limb.
Kazuha wouldn’t tell Kunikuzushi that he loved him, but he loved him.
Kazuha’s playing the new hit game ‘Genshin Impact’ on his phone while Kunikuzushi played on the PS4 when it happened for the third time. They ran through a domain in CO-OP, and now they were farming materials to upgrade talents. There was a crowd control anemo character who could control where the loot went with his skill, so every time Kunikuzushi killed a monster, Kazuha would activate his skill so the loot went somewhere else.
Kunikuzushi cursed him for this, reaching over the couch to smack him on the head and all Kazuha could do was throw his head back to laugh. They ran a domain again, this time both trying to sabotage the other and get each other killed. At the end, they both died and they laughed their asses off until Kazuha’s cheeks hurt and his stomach ached.
Kazuha calmed down from his high when Kunikuzushi stopped laughing, and he turned to see the beautiful boy staring at him with that same look—the one with wavering eyes and a tight expression. And even with such an unpleasant face in theory, Kunikuzushi always managed to rival the angels watching over them.
He loved him, and wouldn’t tell that he loved him.
Kazuha’s seventeen when the beautiful boy was sobbing into his shoulder. Kunikuzushi had a hand against his lips, muffling his cries as he gripped hard on Kazuha’s arm. And Kunikuzushi’s trembling, and Kazuha’s heart cracked, because he has never seen his dearest friend like this.
Earlier that day, Kunikuzushi’s mother got into an accident. She wasn’t dead, but she was in an emergency care unit. He never had a good relationship with his mother, always screaming and running away from home in fits of rage, but with the way Kunikuzushi hiccuped to hide his sobs, something told Kazuha he cared about her.
Kazuha’s in his bedroom as the beautiful boy cried the rest of the night, trembling in his arms and his heart continued to crack and crack and crack until it fell apart into two pieces. He gently rocked them back and forth, ready to do this until dawn for the beating of Kunikuzushi’s heart to calm and for his tears to dry. Kazuha wanted to speak a thousand words to help him, but he knew Kunikuzushi liked to stay quiet in these moments.
But if Kazuha could, and if Kunikuzushi longed for words of affirmation, he would say how his days seemed to glow brighter every time they met eyes. How his fingers itched to run through those soft, dark hair, and if Kunikuzushi ever planned to grow it out, Kazuha would read a thousand books and watch even more tutorial videos to learn how to braid it. How, if Kazuha could, he would grab Kunikuzushi’s face right now and kiss him until the world shrunk so it was only the both of them. Because Kunikuzushi was all he needed, and Kazuha’s heart beat for this beautiful, beautiful boy. Loved him, loved him.
The world—no, the entire universe was wrong. The gods who controlled the threads of fate were wrong. So, so wrong for letting this beautiful boy go through such a life. But at the same time, he wished to tell all of these to Kunikuzushi himself. To grab the beautiful boy by his shoulders and tell him: “Everything will be okay.” And whenever Kunikuzushi had doubts about himself, Kazuha could only wish to scream: “You’re perfect! There is no need to doubt yourself, or place such a high wall between us, because I’m here, and I will always be here like you’re always there for me. You and I are perfect for each other, but I won’t tell you that because we’re best friends and best friends had barriers, but that won’t ever stop me from loving you like you deserved. Because archons, Kuni, I love you so much and I want to kiss you and hold you and hug you and make you happy and live with you and be with you and hold your hand, but I can’t because I can’t kiss you like I want to an—”
“Thanks,” muttered Kunikuzushi, pulling away. Dried tears drenched his lashes and the skin under his eyes puffed up, and yet, Kazuha found him more beautiful than the muses of generation-old artists.
“There is no need to thank me.” Kazuha used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away the tears dripping off Kunikuzushi’s chin. “I am always here as your friend to support you.”
“Yeah…” said Kunikuzushi, almost bitterly, but he wasn’t crying anymore so Kazuha let it slide. “Let’s just fucking sleep.”
“Of course, come on.”
“Have you ever been in love?” asked Kunikuzushi on a Sunday night. They recently moved into their shared apartment (paid for by their mothers), which resided a few streets away from their college.
Kazuha’s sitting on the floor with the beautiful boy, since their furniture hasn’t been fixed and only their (shared) bed was ready to use. Hot, steaming instant ramen warmed their hands and Kazuha hummed, resting his chin on Kunikuzushi’s shoulder, who plopped himself on Kazuha’s lap because “his designer clothes would get ruined against the floor.” Even though his designer clothes were pajamas, which was impractical, but who was Kazuha to complain, anyway?
“Love?”
“Are you fucking deaf? Yeah, love.”
“Yes,” said Kazuha without a moment’s hesitation. “I know love more than anyone you could ever meet.”
“Oh.”
“Do you wish to know what it’s like? For me, at least?”
“Yeah.”
“Well…” Kazuha smiled to himself, but his tongue ran dry. “Um,” he said, uncharacteristically. “Love is—” His throat hitched as Kunikuzushi turned around to see what was wrong, and he’s seen this sight a thousand times, but this beautiful boy always managed to render him speechless at the most inopportune moments. It was like yesterday when he could spout sonnets about loving Kunikuzushi. But now, at the face of the subject of his musings, his heart beat too fast and words refused to leave his mouth.
“Love is—” Kazuha tried again, but his eyes caught the way Kunikuzushi followed his lips and all trains of thought jumped out the goddamn window, because what on earth .
“Love is what?” Kunikuzushi snapped.
“Love is you,” said Kazuha, dumbly, and he wanted to slap himself because shit , he could’ve said something more eloquent. Something more poetic and lyrical and enough to leave Kunikuzushi a blushing mess, but all processes of thinking ran away from him when things mattered the most.
So, he tried to save himself by saying, “Uh.” And he was about to cry, because this mind block was going to cost him eighteen years of friendship. His brain went haywire and his ribs ripped open at the mere thought of losing his source of life, his heart’s sole reason as to why it beat. He tried to focus on the steaming ramen on his left hand, or the feel of Kunikuzushi under his chin. He tried to look out the window, but pollution blocked the stars and there was truly no way out of this.
Kazuha gathered the remaining dignity within him and, without looking at Kunikuzushi, he said, “What I mean is that love is an indiscriminate emotion that could t—” He couldn’t say anymore. Of course not. How could he when Kunikuzushi leaned in and Kazuha’s mind reeled because lips crashed into his harder than he fell for Kunikuzushi at the age of six. Their lips together tasted of spicy ramen and sweet strawberry toothpaste and Kazuha couldn’t fucking care about odd flavors because oh my god Kunikuzushi was kissing him, and oh, shit he’s kissing Kunikuzushi. Kazuha was kissing Kunikuzushi. He was kissing the love of his life.
So, Kazuha’s on the floor with the same beautiful boy from years ago, and he’s kissing him. He’s finally kissing him. Kissing him like stopping would cause the universe to blow up, and maybe it did, because right now, he certainly did not want to stop and if creating an incentive would let them kiss for forever, Kazuha would take it. The polluted stars didn’t matter anymore, because all that mattered was Kunikuzushi and his lips—his spicy-ramen-tasting, expensive-lip-gloss-having lips. Kazuha’s fingers ran through dark hair and Kunikuzushi’s arms curled around his neck, and even with their lips locked, Kazuha could still breathe because Kunikuzushi was his air.
Kazuha’s on the floor with the beautiful boy, and he would tell him that he loved him, as he should have fourteen years ago.
(“You looked so stupid I had to kiss that look off your face.”)