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“Come onnnnn, Utsuro! Just this once!” The inventor whined, getting a rise out of the lucky student as he shook him by the shoulders.
“...Stop it.” Utsuro mumbled as he pushed Yamato’s hands away, leaving him in tears.
Due to a couple of their seniors, specifically the older lucky student from 77-B, half of the students of 79-A were left with their dorms completely decimated and ruined. Unfortunately for Utsuro, one of the most obnoxious students — Yamato Kisaragi — had been caught in the incident’s effects.
Their homeroom teacher had suggested that those affected would stay with another student, and of course Yamato took that opportunity to stay with Utsuro.
“I promise I’ll repay you! Hey hey, why don’t I make one of those wifi signal boosters?!” Yamato tried again, but to no avail, seeing as the ginger turned his back to him and took to sitting on the bed.
“...No.”
“Fine! I’ll figure out the password myself!” With a huff, Yamato took his laptop out and began thinking of the possible passwords.
Utsuro watched from the corner of his eye calmly — it would be hard, if not impossible for Yamato to guess his password. He heard the inventor’s exasperated sighs as he guessed wrong again and again.
With a slight frown, Utsuro situated himself onto the bed, lying face down, the sounds of Yamato’s frantic typing filling the room.
It was noisy, sure, but it at least helped ease his mind — it easily replaced the endless chatter with white noise.
As for Yamato, he had already guessed 5 passwords — all of which were wrong, and he was on the verge of giving up.
Begrudgingly, he searched for possible answers, ending up on an article that listed down the most popular passwords, with the usual combinations being one to eight.
He had read through the entire article, crossing out the ones that didn’t work with a sigh. The comments of the article were mostly filled with bots, which he had expected, but he caught something of interest.
“You should try the names of their family.”
Snorting to himself, Yamato began thinking about this possibility — it was likely, yes, but he knew nothing of the Utsuro’s family due to the other not being a big conversationalist.
A lightbulb lit up in his mind.
His classmates, right!
He wasn’t able to speak for Utsuro, but he sure as hell considered his classmates family.
Now reinvigorated by this idea of his, he began typing down the names of their classmates into the text box one-by-one, starting with Mitch.
As he had expected, it came back negative, since it seemed like the lucky student didn’t hold much interest in the star soccer player.
The list dwindled, time and time again greeting him with another error message.
Now the list was down to him and Tsurugi, and he decided to put his name in first since he was quite confident that Utsuro wouldn’t have used his name, seeing as he always spent more of his time with the police officer.
Yamato felt a stinging feeling in his chest, but he ignored it as he typed his name, considering the different ways Utsuro might’ve written it as he did with the others.
He moved his cursor over the “connect” button, wholeheartedly ready for another window popping up to tell him he was incorrect.
…He tapped on the touchpad, watching as the screen buffered and greeted him with a loading screen.
Connected.
The laptop had connected to the internet, triumphantly announcing so. Yamato just watched and stared, still taken aback by the results.
Man, Utsuro really needed to explain himself.
Utsuro lazily rubbed his eyes as he awoke, the dim night light greeting him as his vision hazily adjusted to his dormitory.
Thankfully, that pesky Kisaragi seemed to be out.
He slowly got up from his bed, quickly glancing at his reflection in the mirror across.
His hair was dishevelled and was sticking up in odd places, his tie had come undone and was worn like a scarf of some sorts, and his eyes were half-closed, giving him the look of someone who hadn’t slept in weeks.
He reached for his hair, trying to pat it down when the door swung open, revealing Yamato holding a few bags in his hands.
“A-ah! Utsuro! You’re awake!” He placed his bags down and started walking towards the other male, who was still frozen in his initial position.
Utsuro rubbed his eyes warily, before speaking up again. “...What is it?”
He could’ve sworn that the bastard had smirked for a moment.
Slightly chortling to himself, Yamato took out his phone from his pocket, turning it on and shoving it into Utsuro’s face.
“...What’s so special about your phone?” Utsuro asked, annoyance rising up in his voice. If Yamato was wasting his time again, he would—
“Why do you have my name as your wifi password?”
Utsuro froze.
Yamato tapped on his screen, pointing towards the tiny wifi icon with a shit-eating grin.
“...Excuse me?”
“Yeah, you heard me. Why did you set my name as your wifi password, Utsuro? Are you secretly in love with—”
Before he could get another word out, the red faced ginger had shoved him out the door.
“HEY! WAIT!”
His pleas were left unheard, with Utsuro shoving all of Yamato’s items out as well.
…Needless to say, he definitely was going to need to find a place to sleep tonight.
Yamato rubbed his eyes, awoken from his sleep by Tsurugi’s loud alarm.
Thankfully, the cop had allowed him to stay for the night, though with the condition that he’d convince Utsuro to let him stay afterwards.
Teruya thought it was hilarious, though, and kept laughing about it afterwards.
Due to the lack of a second mattress, Teruya ended up sharing a bed with Tsurugi, with the cop insisting that it was “more efficient” due to Teruya’s short stature, though, as his best friend, Yamato knew better.
He heard a light shuffling to his right, and he saw Tsurugi get up from the corner of his eye.
“Morning, Yamato.” He greeted, and Yamato quickly smiled. “Good morning, Rugi! Bet you had good sleep, huh?”
That gained him a pillow to the face.
After recovering from such, Yamato began searching for his usual day clothes in his suitcase as Tsurugi got changed. Teruya was noticeably absent, though the two assumed he had made a detour to Haruhiko and Satsuki’s dorm, seeing as the two had allowed him to store his products there for the time being.
“So, how are you going to convince Maeda to let you stay at his dorm?”
Ah, right. He still had to do that.
“Well… I don’t really know. I’m pretty sure it won’t take too much, seeing as he’s already in love with me!” Yamato joked as he pulled out the large white coat he wore, suddenly freezing up as he could’ve sworn Tsurugi snorted.
Was it really that funny?
“Good luck with that, I suppose.” Tsurugi commented dryly, already half-way out the door.
A few minutes passed, with Yamato fully-dressed, still searching for his hat.
The doorbell rang, interrupting him, and he hurriedly ran to the door, patting his hair down for good measure.
“Good morning! Tsurugi isn’t here right—”
The bored look that occupied Utsuro’s features greeted him.
“...Utsuro?” He blinked owlishly, but before he had a moment to speak, the ginger yanked him by the hand and pulled him outside.
“...Good morning, Kisaragi.”
“E-eh?! What are you doing here?!” Yamato exclaimed, but Utsuro simply gestured for him to lean down, and he obliged.
“...Meet me after class, Kisaragi. I need to discuss something with you.” Utsuro put a hand over his mouth, leaning into his ear.
Yamato felt the other’s hot breath tickle his skin, furiously blushing.
Utsuro had moved away and turned his back, though he stopped in his tracks.
“I know what you’re thinking, Kisaragi. It is not — and will never be a date.”
Yamato looked a little crestfallen, but he bounced back all the same, replying with his usual enthusiasm. “Okay, I definitely won’t be late!”
“Have a good day, Kisaragi.”
Akane was pretty observant, all things considered.
She was usually the first to know whenever an important event was near, and she easily knew when people were acting weird.
She was especially observant when it came to Utsuro.
The two were close, especially since he had literally saved her life, but these past few months she had begun to treat him less as her master and more like family, because god knew he needed it.
He was acting strange.
He wasn’t paying much attention, as per usual, but the usual signs of him thinking deeply were all there: the slight furrow of the brow, the rigid posture, the tendency of getting caught off guard…
She was going to find the root of it. No matter what.
“Utsuro?” She stopped mid-conversation, addressing him softly, noticing that the ginger was absent-mindedly poking at his food as she talked about the recent happenings.
No response; he was still poking at his vegetables, quite like a child. And while Akane found it slightly endearing, she still needed her answers.
“Utsuro!”
He jumped ever-so-slightly, visibly shocked before he had masked it with indifference.
“...Taira? What is it?”
Akane puffed her cheeks, a little annoyed by his cluelessness. God, he was really out of it today.
“Is there anything going on? You’ve been so occupied the entire day… It really isn’t like you.”
He took a quick bite of his food, and then faced her so he could speak.
“...It’s nothing.”
Utsuro may have Divine Luck, but the boy really wasn’t good at lying — his forced expression and body language always gave it away.
“Okay, now I know for sure something’s up. Come on now, tell me.” She really didn’t like pressing on like this, but her curiosity wouldn’t end here.
He considered this for a moment, taking a few more bites out of his food before he spoke again.
“...I made a mistake.”
“A big or small one?”
“...”
“Well?” Akane tapped her foot onto the floor, annoyed.
“...I plan to confess to Kisaragi after class.”
Starry-eyed, Akane dropped her fork and eagerly asked for the details, and he obliged, not seeing any reason to do so.
“That’s great! I mean, you’ve liked him for so long— I can even give you tips if you’re worried!”
Utsuro shook his head. “...It’s fine. Besides, I’m not so worried about the confession itself. It’s more so… I’m worried about the implications.”
Akane shot him a quizzing look, though it seemed as though the pieces connected in her head since it was quickly replaced with one of worry.
“Oh, Utsuro,”
He had barely noticed that she wasn’t seated anymore, instead standing next to him.
She offered him a caring smile, and he couldn’t help but feel the urge to smile back.
“You’re worried about your luck again, aren’t you? You’re worried that this isn’t what Yamato wants, and that he’s just acting this way because of your luck, yes?” She always had a way of understanding him before he did, so he simply nodded.
“...Look, Utsuro, your luck may be reality bending, but it doesn’t quite change the way people act.”
“...What do you mean by that?”
“Well, from the way that I look at it, you’ve had people hurt you in the past because of your luck, correct?” Utsuro shuddered, swallowing thickly as he nodded.
“And you didn’t want them to, right?” He nodded again. Where was she going with this?
“Your luck changes things if you so desire it, and you didn’t want those people to hurt you, so why didn’t your luck change that?” She asked, and Utsuro looked at her curiously.
“Just like how it works with your negative experiences with people, I think the same can be said for your positive ones as well. Take me, for example! I, out of my own free will, chose to come alongside you to this academy. Sure, your luck may have brought us together at first, but it was me who chose to stick around.”
She suddenly wrapped him in a hug, knowing how much this bothered her friend; he had always doubted his interpersonal relationships due to his luck’s invasiveness.
Utsuro stiffened for a second, before letting himself relax and in turn wrapping his arms around the maid. There was a mutual understanding that the two were going to stay like that for a while, and so they did.
Eventually, the two separated and Akane beamed at him, prompting him to furrow his eyebrow in confusion.
“...Why do you look so happy?”
“It’s just nice to know that you trust me with this. Now, why don’t I give you some tips? You’re a disaster when it comes to interaction, much more if it’s romantic.” She said the last bit with a bit of a chuckle.
He returned her smile.
“Okay.”