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Teruki bounces nervously on the balls of his feet, and then knocks, pauses, and knocks again. As he raises his fist to knock a third time, the door in front of him swings open.
“Hanazawa,” says a stern but slightly surprised looking Ritsu.
“Otoutou!” says Teruki cheerfully. “Is Kageyama around?”
Ritsu nods and then hesitates for a split second, as if reluctant to let Teruki into his family’s house. Ingrained politeness takes over and he steps aside so Teruki can come in.
“You can wait here,” says Ritsu, indicating the foyer, unendingly cautious. “I’ll go get him.”
“Thanks,” says Teruki. The stark difference in personality between the Kageyama brothers never fails to amuse him. If Ritsu were a food, thinks Teruki, he’d be spinach, practical and full of nutrients. Shigeo would be a strawberry daifuku, delicately sweet with a surprising burst of—
“Hanazawa!” says a soft but clearly pleased voice, interrupting Teruki’s though process. He looks up to see Mob padding down the stairs in his socks. “Hello.”
“Long time no see, Kageyama!” greets Teruki, though it’s been less than two full days since they last saw each other for an afternoon of Mario Kart at Reigen’s place, during which they had both been thoroughly thrashed by Tome.
“Yeah,” answers Mob quietly, smiling shyly at Teruki’s shoes. Teruki isn’t sure if he didn’t get the joke or if he’s just ignoring his terrible humor. “How are you, Hanazawa?”
“Good, good,” says Teruki hurriedly. He can sense Ritsu spying on them, just out of sight on the stairway landing. “I came here to see if you wanted to get some ice cream with me, or something.”
Mob seems even more reserved than usual, Teruki thinks as he observes his friend mull the invitation over. Not unhappy, but—almost anxious? Teruki wonders if he’s actually gotten better at reading Mob, or if he’s slowly becoming more expressive. Half-expecting some sort of excuse, Teruki almost lets out a sigh of relief when Mob agrees and toes on a pair of sneakers sitting in the entryway.
The two boys head out, and Mob suggests they walk to the convenience store just a few blocks over. It’s relatively late in the evening, but the midsummer sun has yet to start sinking below the horizon. Its warm light bathes everything it touches in an inviting glow and gives the short walk a dramatic and—dare Teruki even think it?—romantic texture. Long shadows trail behind them as they walk together along the river, and Teruki is careful to stay a very specific distance away from Mob—God forbid their hands might accidentally brush against one another. A pleasant and forbidden chill travels up his spine at the thought.
Teruki chatters away mindlessly at Mob, who mostly stays quiet and nods now and again when appropriate. He seems fairly content, thinks Teruki, but he still can’t shake the feeling that there’s something on Mob’s mind. His suspicions are confirmed halfway to the convenience store.
“Hanazawa,” says Mob suddenly. “How long have we been friends?”
“I’m not sure,” answers Teruki haltingly, and it’s not entirely a lie. He can pinpoint, almost down to the minute, when he started developing feelings for Mob—it had been just before his own humiliating defeat at Mob’s hands—but when had they become friends? When they had infiltrated Claw to save Ritsu? It seems a safe bet. “About a year, I guess? Maybe a little less?”
Mob hums and considers this. “That’s what I thought, too,” he says, nodding to himself. “So I was wondering... would you call me Shigeo?”
“Yes!” says Teruki immediately, before he has time to register what he’s being asked. He clears his throat. “Sure,” he says, more evenly. “Then you should call me Teru.”
“Teruki?” tries Mob.
Teruki shakes his head, his heart pounding. “Just Teru is fine.”
“Okay,” says Mob, smiling. “Then just Shige is fine, too.”
Teruki gulps and nods, not trusting himself to try out the nickname.
At the convenience store, Mob picks a milky strawberry popsicle, and Teruki unthinkingly almost follows suit, but then he opts for green melon, a safer choice. Prizes in hand, they head back outside, leaving a door chime ringing merrily in their wake.
When they reach the riverbank, Teruki asks Mob if he would like to sit for a while, and so they flop down onto the sloping grass and gaze out at the river, which has been steadily losing volume to the heat of the sun all summer. They eat their popsicles lazily, and even Teruki lets the din of cicadas chirping fill the space that might otherwise belong to conversation.
“You seem especially quiet today... Shigeo,” says Teruki finally, slipping his bare popsicle stick into its wrapper. “Did something happen?”
Teruki expects for Mob to shrug off his question or tell him he’s just tired, but instead, Mob responds in an arrestingly calm and straightforward manner.
“Yes,” he says, without hesitating. “I told Tsubomi about my feelings this afternoon.”
“Oh,” says Teruki, hoping he doesn’t sound as crestfallen as he feels. “Oh!” he tries again, forcing an upbeat energy. “How did it go?”
“She rejected me,” says Mob, and Teruki can’t tell what, if anything, his tone betrays.
“I see,” says Teruki, mentally forcing his own pain down into the deepest part of his soul. “I’m sorry to hear that, Shige-o.” He holds the nickname for a beat too long before adding the last syllable.
Mob hums, and Teruki studies his face. Mob looks—well, fine. He’s still got that quiet air, but he doesn’t seem devastated, like he should be. Teruki wonders if he should be worrying. Is Mob repressing his feelings in a dangerous way after all? Had Teruki really misread the mood earlier?
“So, how do you feel about it?” hazards Teruki, and then, out of nervousness, unnecessarily clarifies, “Now, I mean?”
“Guilty,” says Mob quietly, and brings his hands together in his lap as if to support himself.
“Guilty?” echoes Teruki, his voice turning gentle. Finally, his genuine concern for his friend trumps his breaking heart. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for liking someone who doesn’t like you back. You deserve everything you want, Shigeo. If you want love, then that’s what you deserve. It seems like maybe Tsubomi just isn’t the right fit.”
Mob shakes his head minutely, and his clasped hands fidget.
“It’s not that,” he says, even softer than before. Teruki wills himself to breathe quieter so he can hear Mob’s whisper. “I feel guilty because I realized as I was confessing to her that it was a lie.”
Mob’s cheeks have turned inexplicably pink, and Teruki stays quiet, unwilling to interrupt whatever delicate process is underway in Mob’s heart and mind.
“While I was telling her that I liked her, I realized it actually wasn’t true anymore,” continues Mob. “I didn’t understand. Tsubomi is so pretty, and everyone likes her, and she was kind even when she was turning me down. Why was I lying to such a good person? And when had I stopped liking her?”
Mob shakes his head again, even pinker than before, and more visibly distressed. “I didn’t understand,” he repeats, and then looks at Teruki.
“But I think I do now. And I have to explain it to you,” Mob says firmly.
“It’s okay, Shigeo,” says Teruki, voice still as gentle as he can make it. It’s easy to ignore his own pain when it comes to helping Mob, he finds. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No,” says Mob with surprising determination. Teruki sees that the hands on Mob’s lap have curled into little fists. “Master said I should. He said it’s good for me to talk to my friends. And I think he’s right.”
“You told Reigen?”
Mob nods again, and Teruki sees that he’s momentarily distracted.
“What did he say?”
Mob thinks for a second. “He said, ‘Middle school is hard.’”
Teruki almost laughs, but decides better of it. Besides, his chest feels heavy, like it’s full of lead.
“Sorry,” he says instead. “Go on.”
“Well, I thought about how Tsubomi used to make me feel. Warm,” Mob supplies, then pauses. “And happy. But also sad, at the same time. And then I realized that she doesn’t make me feel that way anymore. But someone else does, and I didn’t realize the feeling was the same because this time, it’s a—it’s a b-boy.”
Mob’s blush is back in full force, and Teruki’s heart breaks all over again for this poor, sweet boy who has been forced to keep his feelings carefully locked away his whole life out of fear. Finally, he feels safe enough to explore his own emotions, and is hindered by society’s expectations of him? It’s simply not fair, thinks Teruki, and yet—and yet, his righteous indignation is beaten out by another, more powerful reaction. Teruki won’t lie to himself; Mob’s words spark a tiny flicker of hope amongst the burning wreckage of his heart, which now threatens again to burst out of his ribcage.
Teruki opens his mouth to say something, to offer words of support, but closes it immediately. He knows it’s important for Mob to be able to talk through his thought process.
“But Master said that was perfectly fine and that I was normal and in fact that he—he also is in love with a man.” And here Mob pauses again. “Serizawa,” he says, wonder creeping into his voice. “He told me he loves Serizawa. Isn’t that amazing?”
Actually, thinks Teruki, it isn’t amazing at all, but he keeps his mouth shut and nods reassuringly instead.
“So then I thought, maybe it’s okay for me to feel the same way about a boy as I thought about Tsubomi, since Master says so,” continues Mob.
Bless you, Reigen, thinks Teruki.
“And then I realized that actually the feelings aren’t exactly the same, because you make me feel warm, yes, but you also make me feel safe, and I like making you laugh and—Teru?”
Teruki’s heart is hammering so loud in his chest he can’t hear anything else—in fact, he’s pretty sure he’s gone deaf because he sees Mob’s lips moving but no sound is coming out. Oh God, he thinks, clutching his chest, is this it?
“Teru!” repeats Mob, louder, looking very concerned. Teruki thinks maybe he can hear again, but isn’t positive. “Are you okay?”
Teruki is breathing fast but manages to intelligently gasp, “‘You’?”
Mob still looks worried. “Yes?” he says, confused.
“Me? You like me?” says Teruki, trying to get a grip.
“Yes,” says Mob, looking sure but a little sad. “Does that upset you?”
“Yes!” exclaims Teruki truthfully, feeling dizzy. He’s imagined confessing to Mob a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways, but never once had he even dared dream that Mob might be the one confessing to him. The emotional rollercoaster of this entire conversation may be too much for Teruki’s poor middle-school heart.
“Can I kiss you?” Teruki blurts, and in some distant corner of his mind he registers how manic he must look and sound right now.
Mob’s brow furrows, and his lower lip trembles slightly. “I don’t understand,” he says. “I’ve upset you, but you want to kiss me?”
Teruki’s brain instantly goes into full alert mode, and a mental siren sounds: YOU’VE HURT SHIGEO, THE LIGHT OF YOUR LIFE. He closes his eyes, takes three deep breaths, wills himself to chill out, and opens his eyes again. He reaches over to take Mob’s hand, and places it over his own rapidly beating heart. Mob’s eyes widen.
“I’m sorry,” says Teruki, and he means it, maybe more than anything he’s ever said before. He never wants to hurt Mob ever again. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You freaked me out a little.”
Mob’s eyes are still trained on their intertwined fingers resting on Teruki’s chest.
“I like you,” says Teruki, and he thinks he owes it to Mob to really spell it out. “I care about you so much, Shigeo. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. When you first started to talk about Tsubomi a few minutes ago, I figured any chance I’d had with you flew out the window. So when it seemed like maybe you were actually telling me the opposite, I lost it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” says Mob, and finally looks up into Teruki’s eyes. He smiles softly, and Teruki smiles fiercely, wildly back. “I think... that’s okay. I’m sorry I shocked you. Do you... still want to kiss me?”
“Always,” responds Teruki firmly. “But I know it’s really fast. I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Shigeo. Ever.”
“Okay,” says Mob, looking delightfully pink. Teruki’s mind is racing a million miles a minute, but one thought supersedes all the others—cute. “Um, but I think maybe... it would be nice.”
Teruki can’t exactly identify Mob’s expression, but he does see that Mob’s blush has crept up into his hairline and down the back of his neck beyond his collar. He very forcefully stops his imagination right there.
“Okay,” says Teruki, his heart drumming a wild, staccato beat. “But I can’t kiss you unless you help me out a bit.”
Mob gets the hint and slowly tilts his face toward Teruki’s, eyes screwed tight and lips puckered in a comically cartoonish fashion. Teruki is too star-struck to even consider laughing.
“Relax,” he does say, though. The hand that is still holding Mob’s drops to the grass between them as he leans over, and his other hand goes to cup Mob’s cheek.
Mob’s lips unpucker somewhat, but his eyes remain closed tight. He leans into Teruki’s hand.
The pure goodness of the boy sitting next to him suddenly threatens to overwhelm Teruki, but before he can lose his nerve, he tips forward and presses his lips to Mob’s for a kiss that’s briefest of brief and featherlight.
When Mob opens his eyes, Teruki can tell that he himself is blushing, maybe just as fiercely as Mob.
“Thank you,” says Mob quietly, and Teruki feels dizzy again.
“Thank me?” he splutters. “Thank you, Shige!” He doesn’t add the O. “Because of you, I’m a completely different person. You saved me. I owe you so much.” It’s maybe the most honest thing he’s ever said.
Mob smiles. “Thank you for liking me back.”
“Oh,” is all Teruki can say as Mob leans back to recline on the grassy bank. Teruki follows suit and their hands, still linked, lie between them.
The sun has finally begun to set, and Teruki lets his eyelids drift downward, but keeps his eyes cracked just a smidge so that he can still see the reflection of wine red bleeding into a bright tangerine on the water’s surface. His heart is still hammering, but it’s the most peaceful he’s felt in a long time, he thinks, and then almost startles when he realizes it’s the most peaceful he’s felt ever. Teruki gives Mob’s hand a little squeeze, and lets the thundering of the cicadas gently envelop him. He doesn’t even notice when the two of them begin to levitate a few centimeters off the ground.
“Should I apologize to Tsubomi?” wonders Mob aloud after a while.
“Hm?” says Teruki, nearly asleep.
“For lying. I still feel bad.”
“Nah,” says Teruki. “I mean, technically, you did like her, so it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it. You guys can still be friends.” He lifts Mob’s knuckles to his lips for a kiss.
Mob giggles. “Yeah,” he agrees, voice bright.
When the sun has been completely swallowed by the horizon, Mob mentions that he ought to be getting home. Teruki pretends not to hear him for a full minute, which Mob allows, and then slowly starts to get to his feet, but Mob carefully levitates them into an upright position so they can keep holding hands. On the walk back to the Kageyama household, Teruki presses as close as he can to Mob without tripping either of them up.
“So... Reigen and Serizawa, huh?”
“You don’t sound surprised,” Mob points out.
“I’m not,” says Teruki smugly. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while.”
Mob gazes at Teruki with stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing, Teru,” he breathes.
Teruki smiles but doesn’t say anything. How can he possibly be deserving of the boundless affection and awe of this flawless boy? He’s not, he decides as he drops Mob off at his doorstep and plants one last peck on his cheek, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t spend every day of the rest of his life trying to be.