Archive of Our Own

The first time Touya encountered Takami Keigo's name, it was at the top of the list ranking the entrance exam scorers—on the very line where Touya had expected to see his own name.

He’d strolled up to the bulletin board, mentally preparing his report to his dad about achieving the highest score going into high school. After weeks of drilling English flashcards and revisiting math fundamentals, he'd done exceedingly well on that exam. But not well enough, apparently.

Now that he’d been pushed into the number two position, that dream was dashed. Second place was nothing to be proud of. Touya dug his fingernails into the fatty part of his palm, grounding himself in the crescent-shaped impressions it left. His body grew rigid as he committed the offending name to memory.

It wasn’t a familiar name, certainly not one from his local middle school. He made it a point to recognize his competition. And when Touya was willing to put in enough effort, no one he knew even came close.

Until now.

Takami Keigo.

Touya hadn't even met him, but the name was burned into his mind.

─ ·❀· ─

So far, high school wasn’t shaping up to be the experience Touya had hoped for.

He’d wanted to mind his own damn business, get his work done as soon as possible, coast his way to the top of the class, excel at athletics without actually being a part of any sports clubs, enjoy lavish praise from classmates in awe of his abilities, and pry the occasional word of validation from his dad. The perfect high school career, in other words.

Along came Takami to disrupt those plans. These days, Touya had to put in twice as much effort to occasionally snatch the top score from Takami.

Takami had even been selected as the class representative. Long gone were the days where everyone remained quiet when asked for class rep volunteers—the guy had been nominated. By multiple people.

Ugh.

Touya would never breathe a word of it out loud to his classmates, of course. But in the privacy of his own mind? Takami was a birdbrain. Preening like a bird, skittish and shoulders ruffling, eyes ever watchful. Takami always seemed to be watching him, from the homeroom class they shared to when school let out for the day. It drove him mad. It was one thing to keep an eye out for competition, but Takami's attention was too pointed.

Takami was effortlessly casual. He smiled too much. Their classmates wouldn’t shut up about him, and word had even made it to his father Enji about him. It boiled Touya's blood. The guy didn’t seem to care about how he looked to anyone—he didn’t even wear his tie properly. Was he even trying?!

The first time Touya’s father asked about “the Takami boy,” Touya’s throat felt like a kettle with steam emerging. Not only was Birdboy near inescapable at school, but tales about the bane of Touya’s existence followed him home, too?

Touya had countless reasons to hate Takami Keigo. Always trying to steal his spotlight, always feigning the “do-gooder” persona. Touya wanted to claw his eyes out. To shake him and ruffle his feathers.

But of course he couldn’t do any of that. Instead, he let the frustration course through his body until he could channel the excess rage into his morning runs.

He enjoyed the praise from his classmates when he managed to keep up with the club athletes during timed runs, when he threw the tallest guy in class in their judo match during PE, when he made an effortless basketball shot with a nonchalant look on his face.

Little did they know, it was all planned. Touya’s day started hours before anyone else’s, waking up stupidly early in the morning to do roadwork and bodyweight exercises that his father had steered him through since elementary school.

Touya’s claims to be naturally athletic were all lies. He tried really hard to keep up with where he knew he should be, sneaking in training wherever he could. He huffed his way through crunches in his room, fluttering bicycle kicks, mountain climbers. All in the name of looking better for the public.

As long as he had an outlet, it was enough to keep his distance.

Until Takami got closer and closer.

─ ·❀· ─

Touya’s walk to school wasn’t long, but he relished it. It was one of the few moments of peace, of solitude he didn’t often find in the chaotic Todoroki household, where his room never saw a break from his siblings, where their father always had a special project for them to work on. Time and space for him to exist in his head, where he was free, where no one could tell him what to do or who to be. For him to move forward on autopilot, without having to worry about anything.

Touya had a single earbud in. Not because he wanted to open an opportunity for conversation with his schoolmates, but for safety reasons. The last time his dad had caught him with two earbuds in, he hadn’t heard the end of it. Be aware of your surroundings, always be vigilant, blah blah blah.

His walk to school passed the convenience store. He yawned, still exhausted from that morning’s run—he might have pushed himself a little too far today, promising himself ‘one more mile’ and keeping his promises a little too well. He’d almost forgotten to switch to contacts before leaving the house. But he heard the door chime as the automatic doors slid open and an all-too-familiar figure walked out.

“Heeeyyy, Todoroki!” Takami’s voice was so bright. His smile, his eyes, his voice spelled straight up sunshine, and it cast a dark shadow on Touya’s peaceful morning.

Dread bubbled up in his stomach. Shit, here he comes. It was too late to shove the second earbud into his ear; that would come off as rude. Takami could report back to someone at school about his uncharacteristic behavior.

It wasn’t that Touya was trying to avoid Takami, per se. He just didn’t want the extra attention taking up his headspace.

Takami was too friendly. Too eager. Too much. The inflections in his voice, how quickly he reacted to things, the excitement that bubbled to the surface, something about him made Touya feel like there must be a camera or an audience involved. There was something performative about it, and Touya couldn’t stand it.

Touya responded with a nod of acknowledgement, sullen at best, and continued walking. He hoped that would be the end of it, that Takami would pick up on his reluctance to socialize and leave him well enough alone. They could walk to class together on the same street, but it didn’t have to be side-by-side. They didn’t have to converse this early in the morning.

He should have known better.

Instead, Takami caught up with him and went on and on about how he’d seen an elementary schooler fall into the river on his walk over earlier that morning. How there had been another kid down there with him who’d reached out a hand. Touya suppressed an eye roll and responded in all the right places, nodding when appropriate and letting out noises of surprise when Takami said something that merited it.

The guy sure can yap. Maybe he doesn’t even realize I’m listening to music?

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. With Takami blabbering away, Touya could focus his attention on that single earbud and lose himself in the raging chaos of League of Villains’ newest album while outwardly pretending to listen to Takami's monologue.

Or so he’d hoped. “What are you listening to, anyway?” asked Takami.

Ugh, I jinxed it.

The question put him in a tough spot. Touya couldn’t tell him the truth. He may have been a huge fan of the League of Villains, but their music was a bit of an acquired taste, not to mention their extreme political views were off-putting to the standard high schooler who parroted their parents’ beliefs. It was easier to tell people at school that he listened to All Might.

Everything was a lot simpler if they believed he was just like them, thought the same things were cool, enjoyed the same music as them. It didn’t matter that Touya thought All Might’s most recent albums were mainstream slop.

So this was no different, really. “Just some All Might,” lied Touya, shrugging.

“Neat! That guy’s pretty popular these days.” With that, Takami plucked the second earbud from where it hung over Touya’s shoulder and jammed it in his own ear to listen along.

Touya paled and pressed pause as soon as he realized. The fuckin’ audacity of this guy! He would have switched songs thirty seconds ago if he’d known Takami was this impulsive. Who just snatches someone’s earbuds? We’re not friends like that.

Takami’s eyes flickered to his own, searching for an answer Touya was unwilling to give. Touya's ears itched. He wanted to duck away, pretend it hadn't happened, but stood his ground and returned Takami's stare. He'd gone through this exercise countless times with his dad.

For a moment, Takami looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it.

Time for some damage control. “If you’re gonna listen along, I gotta start the album from the beginning so you can hear it the whole way through, ya know?” Touya’s voice was breezy as he navigated the controls of the device without taking it out of his pocket, obscuring his frenzied clicks from Takami's line of sight as he selected the artist the jerk expected.

Takami rolled his shoulders back. “True, they say that’s the best way to listen to an album. From the top, to hear the cohesion between the songs and all.”

The iPod resumed, starting with the first track of the eighth All Might album—a soaring, majestic instrumental track with strings and far too much dramatic energy for the awkward silence that had just ensued. The two boys continued their walk to school, albeit without the accompanying talk track from Takami.

There’s no way Takami recognizes the League of Villains from a split-second audio clip. He doesn’t know them. He won’t say a word.

─ ·❀· ─

It was one thing to tell himself Takami wouldn’t spill the beans, and another thing entirely to believe it.

Touya spent the entire school day at the edge of his seat, sneaking glances over at Takami, keeping an ear out for his own name. He shook his leg impatiently, willing his lungs to take deeper breaths. Look normal, dammit. Would Takami mention something? Out him as a liar over something as trivial as music taste?

He was annoyed to notice that whenever he glanced over at Takami, Takami was already looking. And whenever Touya narrowed his eyes at him, Takami just stuck his tongue out or gave a little wave. Every time.

Touya gripped the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles went white. He’s playing around with me.

The end of the school day couldn’t come fast enough. Somehow he'd survived without Takami saying a word about him to anyone. Touya returned home in a huff. Fuyumi and Shouto were already in the living room, so he threw his bookbag onto the couch and collapsed over the back of the cushion.

His eyes were closed, but he heard them approach and chose not to move, even when Shouto decided to drape himself over his arm like a weirdo. “Is everything alright?” Fuyumi asked, patting Touya’s shoulder gently. “You look… stressed.”

Permission granted, Touya settled into a more sustainable position on the couch. He recollected the iPod incident and how he couldn’t tell if Takami had realized that he’d lied about what he was listening to.

His siblings were the perfect audience for his complaints. Surely they’d understand why he was afraid that Takami would tell the whole class.

Or not.

“Is it that big of a deal? Your taste in music?” Clearly, 11-year-old Shouto didn’t get it. Touya should have adjusted his expectations. Stupid elementary schooler.

“You know Touya.” Fuyumi sighed. “It’s hard for him to be fully vulnerable with his friends.” Touya would have bristled at her talking like he wasn’t even in the room, but it wasn’t untrue. She knew his deal.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Shouto asked. “To share your secrets?”

Tch. Friends. Touya didn’t have anyone that he could be totally honest with. At school, he had to keep his image clean as the perfect student. It was far too easy for word to get back to their father about misconduct, especially since he was a member of their district’s board of education. A single warning email could result in life-changing consequences. And it wasn’t like the people from Touya’s online forums knew anything about what he was like in the real world—they were only acquaintances. Ones that Touya tolerated because they enjoyed the same music and aesthetics.

It was all a bunch of masks. Touya hated it, but couldn’t do anything about it. With their family, everything was about reputation.

Fuyumi said something that Touya tuned out, then Shouto continued: “Is it because he thrives on external validation? No matter who it comes from?”

She jammed her elbow into Shouto’s side to shut him up, but the comment was enough to interrupt Touya’s train of thought. “Hey!” Touya protested. “Where do you even learn this stuff?”

Shouto didn’t know when to quit. The family spoiled him too much. “That’s because of Dad, huh?” Shouto wondered, thumb and index finger cradling his chin.

Touya launched himself at Shouto, who scrambled out of the way. There were some things you weren’t supposed to say out loud.

─ ·❀· ─

As if that wasn’t enough for Touya to worry about, the universe continued to play little tricks on him. Try as he might, he couldn’t get away from Takami—the dam had broken after Takami helped himself to Touya’s second earbud. Everywhere he looked, Takami seemed to be there. As if it wasn’t enough that they shared homeroom together and saw each other all day, Touya couldn’t make it down the hallway during breaks without catching a glimpse of the guy.

He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, Takami or his (absolutely garbage) eating habits. Every damn day, on his walk to school, Touya caught Takami wandering out of the conbini with melonpan or a small bag of fried chicken. Then he’d skip lunch, rushing up and down the hall helping teachers instead. (Class representative he may have been, but it just seemed like overkill to Touya.) When he did eat, he picked at his food, eating his vegetables like a reluctant afterthought instead of an important source of nutrients. Or he was snacking on something like sunflower seeds, only contributing to that bird-like build of his.

Does he think he’s too good for a bento?

It drove Touya batshit crazy. How did someone eat so poorly and still manage to stay functional throughout the day?

And then their science teacher paired them up for a group project, an experiment about plant growth. To Touya’s great displeasure, the commitment was for the rest of the semester. The pairing left Touya sulking and Takami bearing that infuriating grin. What’s he so happy about?

“We can talk after class,” muttered Touya, already dreading the moment he’d have to deal with Takami one-on-one.

Takami looked eager. Like he’d taken Touya’s statement as an “I’ll wait for you.”

When the final bell rang, Takami zoomed to his desk before Touya had even finished putting his notebook in his bag. Touya took his time with the zipper, trying to ignore how hot his ears were burning. “Can’t you ever just… y’know. Chill?” Touya said with a sigh, attention locked on his belongings. What’s he so excited about? It’s just a stupid school project.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s no problem.” Takami was almost bouncing.

“Whatever you say.” He scooted his chair back and draped the strap over his shoulder.

Takami bit his lip. “Um, since we’ll be working together and all. You can call me Keigo.” It came out in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for an opportunity to say it.

Touya was unmoved. “Alright.”

“Aw, no first-name basis for you?”

“We’re not close like that.”

The pout on Takami’s—ugh, fine, Keigo’s—face was ridiculous. Touya pushed past it, throwing his body weight into the door to open into the hallway.

They made their way to Touya’s house, where they’d decided to work on the project together. He’d initially suggested working on it at the school library, but Keigo had reminded him that their project required a stable setup that wouldn’t be moved. Plus, for best results, they’d want to monitor the experiment daily, and keeping an eye on it at home would help for that.

“This is my house.” The front door was never locked during daylight hours, courtesy of their stay-at-home mom. Touya opened the door and called the usual greeting.

“Nice. Do I get a grand tour?”

As if he deserved that much. “Kitchen’s there, bedrooms are all down the hall.” Touya gestured listlessly. “We can work in the living room, there’s a spare table.” It was a half-hearted walkthrough of the place, but Touya wasn’t keen on Keigo seeing anything too personal. Heaven forbid Keigo caught sight of one of their family albums or Fuyumi’s scrapbooks.

Shit. Fuyumi, Touya realized belatedly. Keigo showing up at their house so soon after he’d complained about the guy? Touya might as well have asked his siblings to tease him. He’d never hear the end of it.

Touya glanced at the genkan and heaved a sigh. “My siblings might pop in at some point.”

“Cool! I’m an only child. I wish I had a brother or sister.”

“No, you don’t,” Touya said with a snort. “They’re awful. Just ignore them.”

Keigo deliberately ignored this set of instructions. As the siblings each returned home, they introduced themselves to Keigo, who took full advantage of the distractions, happy to chatter on about how he knew their brother and pry for whatever information he could.

Fuyumi was the first to return, and her eyes sparkled as she recognized Keigo’s name from Touya’s previous stories. “Ah, he’s mentioned you! It’s so nice to put a face to the name!” Touya shot her a nasty look from behind Keigo’s shoulder, and she let out a giggle. “Come back soon, okay?”

Shouto saw the extra pair of shoes in the genkan and didn’t even bother taking off his backpack before he rushed in to stare at the newcomer. His curiosity was evident. His eyes kept passing back and forth between Touya and Keigo. It was unnerving.

“Stop being weird,” Touya demanded, shoving Shouto into the couch. “Go outside or something.” Shouto grumbled but accepted the dismissal.

Natsuo gave the most acceptable reaction, simply raising an eyebrow when he caught sight of Keigo in their living room. “Hey, man, nice to meet you.” He stuck around for a while for some small talk, then retreated to his room.

Once they were gone, Keigo struck. “Now that I know all your siblings, it’s too confusing to call everyone Todoroki,” he said with a drawn-out sigh. The expectant, almost sly grin that followed made Touya grind his teeth.

Exasperation emanated from his bones before dissipating, much like his patience. He’s clearly gunning for that first-name treatment. What an opportunistic—

“Fine, you can call me Touya,” he conceded, looking away. Eye contact at that moment would have given the admission too much power. He’d said it as a favor to Keigo, but speaking his first name out loud still made him feel raw somehow. Was it the idea that no one else at school called him that? That only his siblings were close enough? Keigo using his first name felt like the beginning of his doom. Touya shoved past the thought, opting to distract himself with the plans they’d drawn up.

“Great!” Keigo sounded legitimately pleased by the change. Touya wasn't sure what to make of it.

As they designed their experiment, Keigo occasionally offered anecdotes from school, his thoughts on their teachers and other classmates. Touya didn’t offer much, agreeing with most of his takes. He tried not to watch Keigo as the light of golden hour settled on his hair and cheeks, leaving him awash with soft, diffused light that made his skin and good nature glow. More than once, Touya had to tell himself to keep his eyes on his work, even placing his fist on his forehead to physically block himself from glancing over. He had too much pride to let himself be attracted to Keigo.

The two of them worked for hours, until the golden glow disappeared from the windows and they could no longer hear the chattering of children playing in the neighboring park.

Natural light out of the question, Touya drew the curtains and switched the room light on. He stood by the light switch as he stared at Keigo. He’d expected Keigo to call his parents and have to field nosy questions about where he was. After all, any break from Touya’s school day routine (come straight home after class to do homework) would immediately set off alarms for his folks. If not his parents, his siblings would come question him. But all throughout, Keigo’s phone sat untouched at the far end of the table. Touya hadn’t even noticed any notifications—no stray buzzes from incoming messages, no missed calls. He let out a “tch.” Of course the guy was too polite to check his phone in a public setting. He’d probably turned it off or something.

A knock came from the doorway. It was light, but enough to alert them of the new presence. “Hi there, I'm Touya's mom.” Her soft voice put Touya at ease, and he took a seat once more to witness yet another round of introductions.

“Hello! I'm Takami Keigo, thank you for having me.”

“It's no problem at all, I'm happy to meet a friend of Touya's.”

At the word ‘friend’, the two boys exchanged a glance, and Touya's heart flipped at the little grin Keigo shot his way. He chose to ignore it as his mom continued, “It's getting late, would you like to stay for dinner? My husband will be coming home soon. You're very welcome to join us.”

Keigo checked his phone for the time and did a double-take. “I didn't even realize it had gotten so late,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I appreciate the invitation, but I'll head home!”

Touya was speechless. It seemed so easy for Keigo to defy normal human boundaries when it was just the two of them. He didn't understand why this was the point where Keigo thought he was imposing. Don't be so gracious, why not accept the offer? Then realizing that it would get Keigo out of his house sooner, he kept his mouth shut.

His mom gazed at Keigo as he scrambled to collect his things. “Maybe next time, then.”

“Next time!” he chirped in response.

─ ·❀· ─

The next morning, Touya’s route to school passed by the convenience store once more. He hesitated, spotting Keigo inside. Clearly the recognition went both ways, as Keigo collected his change in a hurry and rushed out to catch Touya.

Touya flushed, realizing he’d slowed his walk ever so slightly. He nodded at Keigo once, and Keigo fell into his side step-by-step.

From that day on, Keigo made a habit out of walking to school with Touya in the morning. It was too obvious that his face brightened each time he caught Touya’s eye. Keigo always took his right side.

Touya told himself it was only about their project, but that excuse only went so far. Their “project” talk was a quick question about logistics (“what time are you done with student council work after school”) before segueing into other chatter.

Keigo stared at Touya’s stray earbud, almost longingly. “Can I—?” It seemed the iPod incident had been enough to raise caution flags. It was like he’d sensed the danger and Touya’s anxiety about being caught.

“Yeah, fine.” Touya was prepared now. After that first time, he’d dug through his music library for acceptable artists and groups to share. The playlist for their walks to school didn’t include the League of Villains, but they also weren’t full of artists Touya was totally sick of.

Something about Keigo incapacitated Touya’s ability to keep people at a distance. Physical, emotional, it didn’t matter—he soared above Touya’s walls, gracefully landing with a flutter somewhere Touya had never expected. Maybe it was the way that nothing seemed to ruffle Keigo’s feathers; he took it all in with ease. Keigo seemed to feel no shame or embarrassment when demanding Touya’s attention.

Eventually, Touya started handing Keigo the earbud unprompted. Their fingers brushed, and Touya saw a glimmer of a smile on Keigo’s face. He scoffed. There was nothing that should make Keigo that happy. Certainly not him. His music taste wasn’t that good.

For all their classmates had talked him up, Touya had gotten the impression that Keigo was some sort of god to them.

They were wrong. Keigo was just a dork, one who seemed to have as many masks up as Touya did—not that Touya would ever admit it to him. But Keigo seemed to pull it off with ease, almost like he enjoyed wearing them.

It bewildered Touya. He observed Keigo almost like another science experiment, trying to make sense of his behavior. But it only seemed to perplex him more.

For some reason, Keigo was really into systems. “I have a hard time memorizing things,” he explained. Naturally, he’d developed mnemonics for nearly every Chinese dynasty and wouldn’t shut up about them. (“Totally unnecessary,” Touya said with a snort. But somehow, on the question about dynasties during their next exam, all Touya could hear was Keigo rattling off the names in that stupid sing-song voice of his. He paused for a moment to push the image out of his head before scribbling the names down in the margins. Fuck.)

Keigo seemed more excited whenever Touya was around. A little more alive, somehow. An unrestrained smile, a laugh that teetered the edge of a screech. A frenzied tap-tap-tapping when he wanted Touya's attention. It was hard not to think of him as a hummingbird in those moments, fluttering this way and that way.

Then there was that incident with the Mildliners. One afternoon, on their way to Touya’s house, Keigo stopped in his tracks. “Shoot, I forgot my Mildliners! I’m gonna go grab them, I’ll catch up later!”

Touya rolled his eyes and turned to him. “Why do you even need them?” Those highlighters outnumbered the pencils in his pen case.

“They’re important,” Keigo insisted, bouncing on his toes. “My color-coded notes depend on them!” He set off back toward the school.

“They don’t have to be color-coded.”

“They absolutely do.” There was a note of amusement wavering in Keigo’s tone.

“What for?”

“How else will I establish a visual hierarchy so you can easily identify the most important details?”

Touya looked scandalized. “Why is this for me?!”

“Everything I have is for you,” Keigo said with a flourish. Stupid.

Touya ignored the fact that his heart had gone into double-time. “We have Mildliners at home!” Only then did he look up and groan, realizing they’d reached their classroom already.

─ ·❀· ─

The project wasn’t all they worked on at Touya’s house. They’d moved their workspace to a spare table that could keep all their project materials and references without them having to set it up from scratch every time. Once data collection was done for the day, they moved onto other classes.

Touya wanted to work ahead on their experiment, but Keigo’s nose was stuck in his history textbook. Touya was a little frustrated about the lack of attention from Keigo. And that he cared about it at all.

“Why do you need to study so hard, anyway?” scoffed Touya. Their next history test wasn’t for a few weeks at the earliest. “Seems like you’re always trying to do too much.” How dare he try to pull ahead?

“It’s an HPSC thing. If my GPA drops, they pull funding.” It was said matter-of-factly, but Touya’s father had mentioned the HPSC before. The institution provided financial support for wards of the state, a monthly allowance addressed directly to them.

Touya put his pen down.

He was bright enough to put everything together. So that was why Keigo took his time heading home—there was no one there waiting for him? The reason his phone never rang, no matter how many hours he spent at Touya’s house? The explanation for him never having homemade bentos and for being such a convenience store junkie?

Keigo continued on like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “What about you?” He wasn’t the only one trying to get ahead of schedule.

I’ll never get acknowledged by my dad if I don’t come to him with top scores, Touya didn't say.

“I’m not big on studying,” Touya lied through his teeth. Keigo gave him a knowing squint, having seen the scribbles resulting from hours of note-taking. Touya chose not to respond. He went back to writing.

As always, Touya’s mom rapped on the doorway to get their attention for dinnertime. She extended the usual invitation for Keigo to stay for dinner, and Touya could already anticipate the ‘no’ from Keigo.

This time, he intervened before Keigo could get a word in. “Yeah, we still have a section to finish, so it’d be troublesome if you left early. We could get through a lot more after dinner.”

He cursed internally. That had been a terrible excuse. They’d already updated their graphs for that week.

Keigo paused, brow furrowing as he thought through Touya's logic. “If you say so,” he said.

At dinner, Keigo settled into a nice cadence with each of the Todoroki siblings. He explained how he didn’t have siblings, how this side of families was unfamiliar to him. Touya had to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them all from sharing embarrassing stories about him. He was surprised by his own animatedness. Even when his dad finally settled in at the table, it wasn’t enough to make Touya go quiet, too busy keeping an eye on Keigo to put up his usual guard.

The trouble started when Fuyumi introduced Keigo. His dad recognized the name immediately. “So you’re the boy who’s always besting my son,” he boomed.

Touya’s stomach dropped. He gripped his spoon tightly. Cue the typical Todoroki family tension when their dad said things they couldn’t argue with. He hated that Keigo had to witness this.

“Honestly? Having Touya around has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” said Keigo with an easy grin. Though his words were meant for Touya’s dad, his eyes were on Touya. “I’ve never wanted to spend this long studying.”

His dad shot a critical eye at Touya and harrumphed, then returned to eating his mapo tofu with gusto. Touya swirled the spoon around his bowl as he considered Keigo’s words, hardly daring to believe what had just happened.

When the two of them returned to the spare room, they didn’t talk about it.

“Let’s study for tomorrow’s precalculus quiz,” suggested Keigo. Touya took no issue with it. Studying with Keigo meant one less opportunity for him to pull ahead.

─ ·❀· ─

After Keigo finally packed up and went home, Touya approached his mom in the kitchen. “Mom, if it’s not too much trouble, can you make an extra bento?”

She set down the potato she’d been peeling and eyed him. “Have I been starving my son?” she questioned, eyes crinkling.

“What—no, of course not! It’s not for me.” He trusted his mom, but saying anything more than that would be embarrassing.

“That’s rather vague,” she hummed, crouching to fetch more ingredients from the pantry. “It wouldn’t happen to be for your friend, would it?”

“He’s not my friend,” mumbled Touya, face burning. Ugh. He should have known that asking for a favor would lead to the inquisition. Keigo better appreciate this.

His mom gave him a knowing look. “Takami-kun is a sweet young man. He handled that moment with your father gracefully. I don’t mind cooking an extra portion, but you should be the one packing it.” Why did she know everything?

Touya considered her offer, then opened the drawer that housed aprons. “I can do that much.” He fastened an apron behind his neck and joined his mom.

He felt awkward when walking to school with the extra bento stacked on his, even as it was covered with the furoshiki. Like someone would spot it and know who it was for.

Touya waited for Keigo to leave his seat before unwrapping the furoshiki and leaving it on Keigo’s desk. He pretended not to notice when Keigo noticed the unexpected box on his desk and looked around the room surreptitiously. And he definitely didn’t let his eyes linger on the crinkles in Keigo’s eyes when he opened the bento to find his favorite chicken katsu.

─ ·❀· ─

Touya shifted uncomfortably. He’d settled into his new routine quickly, so quickly it unnerved him.

Shouto didn’t bother asking “Is Takami-san coming over today?” anymore—it was a given.

Whenever Touya ambled into the kitchen before bedtime, his mom scooted over to give him room to collect the extra serving. (At this point, Keigo knew better than to thank Touya for it directly. But every time he came back to the Todorokis’ place, he washed both bento boxes himself. It was his way of showing his appreciation.)

And every time Touya wrote something on their report, Keigo leaned over to see it, pressing into Touya’s side as he did so. Touya found that he didn’t hate the warmth at his arm—and that it felt like it somehow wasn’t enough. He snapped at that feeling to leave him alone, he had enough to worry about, and let the contact linger without pulling away.

─ ·❀· ─

Spring semester at once dragged on and flew by. Touya couldn't tell what he wanted more: more time with an unfiltered Keigo, or no longer having temptation at arm's reach every day after school. But in the end, time chose for him. The semester concluded, and with it, so did their excuse to spend hours together.

“And we’re done. Finally.” Touya smacked the table for an emphasis he didn’t fully believe in.

Normally Keigo would have a quick response, but not this time. His silence caught Touya's attention. Keigo didn’t share his outward enthusiasm, and in fact looked a little worse for wear. The wings Touya liked to picture him with would be drooping.

“You’re being shifty. Out with it.”

Keigo fidgeted with the ring of his notebook, a clear tell for lying by omission. “Just a little sad that this is over and all.”

“Yeah? Why's that?” prompted Touya, never one to leave well enough alone. “You got a crush on me or something?”

A flash passed between them. Keigo gave him a lopsided grin in acknowledgement. “And what if I do?”

Touya’s heart seized. It had been a throwaway comment, meant for Keigo to return a quippy response like a ping-pong match. He hadn't expected Keigo to snatch the damn ball and start a serve of his own.

Keigo likes me.

The silence stretched out between them, Touya searching for words that lay beyond his grasp. It reminded him of the awkward silence that had ensued during the iPod incident.

“Why?” he heard himself ask, voice harsh in its disbelief.

“You're cute. You work really hard. You’re real with me. You notice everything. You’re thoughtful without making a big thing about it.” Keigo rattled off the reasons like mnemonics. (Had he committed those to memory as well? How did he have an answer so immediately?)

Touya squirmed, fixing his attention to their names on top of their paper until the letters began to dance. It was nothing to do with him being top of their class or on par with the varsity team, nothing about test scores or being well-liked. No one ever paid attention to the effort he put in. The unexpected praise made his face heat like it had become the sun itself.

“What can I say,” Keigo said, barreling past Touya's silence, “I got ensnared by the Todoroki charm.”

The mention of his last name brought Touya back down to earth. It sounded wrong coming out of Keigo's mouth, but that didn't matter. He should have realized. Keigo knew him for the mask he showed at school.

You don’t really know me, Touya didn’t say.

He steadied his breathing, dug his fingernails into his thigh, braced himself to say the words that would fix everything.

Then he cleared his throat, keeping his voice flat. “Well, consider yourself released from the Todoroki cage. See you at school.” The words scratched at his throat as they clawed their way out.

The room fell into quiet once more. Takami’s mouth formed shapes that didn’t quite make it all the way into questions. What he left unspoken felt like a knife in Touya’s side.

“Ah, okay.” Takami’s voice sounded distant despite him sitting so close. He gave a rueful smile that Touya only caught in his peripheral vision. “Sorry, had to try. Thanks for hearing me out, at least.”

He’d never felt like this before, guilt and self-defensiveness and a sense that he’d done what he had to do. His mind flooded with visions of Keigo beaming at the bento Touya had made him, the earphone cable connecting them on their walk to school, Keigo’s concentrated face at this very table; he pushed them away, but they were only replaced by the familiar and unwanted lectures from his father, his siblings’ teasing, his mom’s knowing voice. He’d done what he had to.

Touya helped Takami pack up, ears still ringing as he shoveled Mildliners into his pencil case. Normally, this was part of a comfortable routine, with Keigo humming in the background. This was a rushed effort, one intended to hurry him out of their living room.

He felt an odd sense of mourning that this was the last time he'd be doing this.

─ ·❀· ─

By the time Takami left, Touya had decided. There was nothing to mourn. He hadn’t lost anything. If anything, it was the opposite.

He barreled into Natsuo’s room without so much as a knock. “Guess what?” He didn’t wait for a response, leaping onto the bed beside Natsuo. “I won!”

Natsuo didn’t bother looking up from his laptop, simply shifting over to make room for his brother. “Congratulations.”

“Did you hear me? I won!” Touya insisted.

“Good job, Nii-san,” said a voice from the doorway. Apparently Shouto had followed Touya into Natsuo’s room. Shouto took a seat on the floor, gazing in rapture at his eldest brother. “What did you win?”

“He confessed.” Touya slapped the mattress for emphasis.

“You mean Takami-san.” Shouto had finally caught up with Touya’s train of thought. “If he confessed… You won his heart.” Shouto confirmed it for himself with a nod. “So that means the two of you are dating now, right? Congratulations.” He bowed slightly.

Touya, who had gone speechless during Shouto’s rationalization, gaped at his brother while fumbling for words. “Are you crazy?” he finally said. “Why would I date him?” His voice sounded odd to him, like it was echoing somewhere, like he was watching himself from somewhere outside his own body.

Shouto squinted at Touya, who simply stared back.

Natsuo closed his laptop and pushed it to the side of the bed. “So that’s winning, to you?” His cryptic grin was unsettling.

Touya shrugged it off. He was tired of spending so much brainpower on him. “What else would it be?” No one at school could get too close. His siblings might be okay with everyone knowing their business, but he couldn't live like that.

“Here’s my interpretation. You like him back, you’re just too prideful to admit it.”

Touya shook his head. “No way, I wouldn't—”

Shouto interrupted him. “Were you expecting a confession, or was it a complete surprise?” He turned to Natsuo. “Touya-nii can be kind of oblivious.”

Touya rolled his eyes and stormed out of the room. So much for sharing his victory with them. His brothers didn’t get it at all.

─ ·❀· ─

He’d won. So why didn’t it feel like it?

The two of them didn’t walk to school together anymore, they didn’t have a reason to scoot their desks together, there was no more project to work on after class. Occasionally Keigo—dammit, Takami—shot a hopeful smile over at Touya when they were in a bigger group, but he kept his distance. That was what Touya had wanted, after all. He was just honoring that request.

It irritated Touya.

He never let it show, of course. But there was one time where Keigo frowned at him from his desk and watched for a little too long. Touya scooted his chair to clear his line of sight.

It was just the change in routine that bothered him, of course. When you do the same thing day after day for an entire semester, you get used to the repetition. Anyway, it was Keigo’s fault for up-ending things. They could have continued on as normal if he hadn’t said… that.

Touya kept replaying the confession in his head. It was maddening. Keigo only seemed to care about the effort he put in. Why would that even matter, over outcomes? Everyone else only cared about what he could do. Grades, test scores. Tangible results.

It’s not me he likes, a voice rang in his ear. He only saw what I wanted him to see. If he knew the real me, he wouldn’t care so much.

Try as Touya might to shut out the whispers, to pay attention to anything but that little voice, he found the exercise futile. The only thing that shut it out was Keigo’s voice, played on repeat.

─ ·❀· ─

Summer break was a welcome respite from the voices.

Touya loved school breaks. They let him make the most of his status as a card-carrying member of the going-home club. While other students were surely straining themselves at club camps or practices, he lounged around in a light tee, gym shorts, and his glasses all day. With no one around to see him, Touya was luxuriating in true lazy mode.

Today he was nursing a popsicle. It was hot in the house, and his dad hadn’t authorized the use of the air conditioning until 3pm. It wasn’t like they were poor or anything, so why was the electricity bill such an issue? Bastard. Touya groaned as he fanned himself with a brochure.

It was just him and Shouto today, lounging on the couch like they had nothing better to do. Shouto had queued up cat videos and Touya was providing his own dub for what each cat was saying. Between Shouto’s deadpan responses and Touya finding himself funnier with every line that came out of his mouth, he was laughing so hard his sides hurt.

Touya heard the telltale shutter sound of a phone camera, and his heart dropped as he realized they weren’t alone. In the doorway stood Keigo, smiling gently as he held his phone up. Fuck.

It seemed their unexpected guest had gotten so comfortable spending time at the Todoroki household that manners didn’t enter the picture anymore. He’d just let himself in.

“Hi Takami-san,” chirped Shouto, none the wiser.

“Aww, look at you two! I love how close you guys are,” Keigo cooed. “Whoa, it’s warm in here.” He flapped the bottom of his shirt. “How are you two not melting?”

“I am. I’m gonna go grab an ice cream.” Shouto, that traitor. He was already slipping on his sandals and running out the door. “Have fun, you two.”

Keigo drew closer to get a better look at Touya, only too pleased to see him in loungewear. Touya realized he was still wearing glasses and whipped them off his face. “You got a photo of me?”

“And a video,” Keigo chuckled, leaning against the back cushion.

Touya was pissed. Not only had Keigo caught a moment of vulnerability, something he was never supposed to see, he’d taken a video so that he could show others? The asshole.

“Delete it,” he blurted out, scrambling up from the couch. He eyed Keigo, gauging whether he could wrestle the phone away from him and eliminate the evidence himself.

Keigo looked at him. “I’m not going to post it or anything,” he said. Touya didn’t believe a word. “But you shouldn’t need to hide something like that.”

Touya’s jaw tightened. So that was how he was going to play it? “Why are you here?”

“Whoa, no need to bite my head off! I landed a pair of tickets to the LOV performance in the next city over and thought you’d be interested.”

Touya was torn. Keigo had remembered his favorite band… something he’d desperately tried to hide. “Interested. In going. With you.”

“I know, I know, it’s not something you want getting out or anything—”

“What exactly do you want from me?” Touya’s voice was tight.

“To… go to the concert with me?”

“Why.”

Keigo scratched the back of his head. “Student council’s gonna be a pretty heavy lift next semester.”

Touya heard everything he wasn’t saying. So he’d need to help Keigo with student council work to prevent his secrets from getting out. He hadn’t thought Keigo was coercive like that. I guess I’m not the only one who was hiding something.

The popsicle in his hand dripped onto the floor. He stared listlessly at the mess, wishing he too could melt.

“Alright.” If that was what it took. “I’ll help out.” He'd do whatever he had to in order to keep up appearances.

There was a pause. Keigo’s brow creased. “You don’t have to—okay, that’d be a huge weight off my back,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

─ ·❀· ─

So Touya found himself waist-deep in paperwork. After everything he’d done to avoid formal public-facing roles like this, he was annoyed to have it dumped on him.

The weight of the paper stack, the feel of the edges on his palms, every bone in his body felt heavier.

This wasn’t the first time someone had pulled something like this on him. Fuyumi looked sweet, but she hadn't done dishes in years. It was the price of her silence about him breaking that one glass trophy of Dad’s.

He'd resigned himself to that status quo. They were siblings, after all. He couldn’t truly be rid of her until he moved out for college. And even then, it wasn’t like he wanted to cut off contact permanently. It wasn’t that serious.

But Keigo shouldn't have a hold over him like that.

Over the past few weeks, Touya had helped Keigo with his student council work. The preparations for their school’s upcoming sports festival, collecting packets from all the different student organizations, endless paperwork, delivering boxes of supplies to different club rooms. So much manual labor. He tossed his head back and groaned. There was a reason he’d never volunteered to be on these stupid committees. And what idiot decided to schedule the sports festival and the culture festival so close together?! He didn’t know how Keigo tolerated any of it.

But Keigo had been pretty dependent lately, with his constant “Can you carry this?” and his “it’s less boring with you around” and even “it’s faster with two people.” But why did the second person have to be Touya?

And with the sports festival coming around, Keigo’s requests got even more ridiculous. “Participate in the three-legged race with me! It’ll be fun,” Keigo insisted.

Touya couldn’t say no. Not if he wanted that video to stay private. Sure, Keigo hadn’t mentioned showing anyone the video since that day, but it was always on his mind. He wished Keigo would just delete the damn thing. More than once, he thought about swiping Keigo’s phone when he wasn’t paying attention.

Never before had a secret felt so much like a person sitting on his chest. He hated it, he hated Keigo, couldn’t believe he’d thought Keigo had genuinely liked him, even for a moment. But Keigo had gotten so close, Touya thought he might actually understand him. Showed how much he knew.

It wasn't just the grunt work. Keigo had Touya waiting after class for him again. Reminding him to eat. Touya couldn’t bring himself to prepare another bento for him, but he’d pick up a cold sandwich from the cafeteria and toss it onto Keigo’s desk, interrupting him from whatever paperwork he’d found himself victim to once more.

It wouldn’t be so bad if only Touya’s mind would stop tormenting him. From time to time, Keigo shot him glances that made him feel like things were back to normal.

The worst part was that Keigo kept teasing him. Pulling Touya aside and mentioning “that version of you” or asking what Touya at home would think. Taking his phone out and snapping pictures of him, reminding Touya about the video that was saved. As if Touya could forget.

─ ·❀· ─

Touya considered himself a resilient person. A phoenix who could rise from the ashes regardless of the situation. But even he had his limits.

The summer heat bore down on them as they walked home from school, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His body wasn’t built for this weather. It made him more irritable than usual. Keigo was chattering on when something in Touya snapped.

“Oh, just fuck off, Takami,” he snarled. He caught Keigo’s flinch at being relegated to last-name basis, and hated that he’d noticed at all. Touya picked a direction and tried to storm off, but Keigo put a tentative, almost questioning hand on his shoulder.

The look on Keigo’s face was one Touya had never seen before. A mixture of hurt and confusion. But he didn’t care at this point, he was tired of being used. Now Keigo would know how it felt.

“Did I… do something wrong?” Keigo hedged.

“Oh, don’t act blameless.” The bitterness made Touya’s voice hard. He brushed Keigo’s hand off. Any other day, he might have been a little more cautious, been more wary of outbursts in public, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “I didn’t ask for any of this. The class rep thing? That’s all you. If you want to rope yourself into all that work, don’t drag me into it.”

Touya saw Keigo’s face fall, but he continued. “Everyone wants me to do this, wants me to do that. I’m just trying to keep up. And now there’s you too. I’m sick of it!”

Keigo had never heard him yell like this, and his eyebrows just about rose off his face. He didn’t know the side of Touya that had a temper, the one that rose to the occasion and even burnt him in its intensity.

“You saw me at home. What I’m really like when I’m not trying so hard. No shit, you didn’t like what you saw. I wouldn’t either.” Remembering it made Touya’s head pound. “But it isn’t fair, making me suffer for it. I’m tired!” he shouted. “Tired of trying, sick of being used. Go ahead and show everyone that stupid video. I don’t care anymore.”

Touya fell silent, realizing that Keigo hadn’t said a word. He was used to his dad interrupting, telling him why he was overreacting. Used to being brushed off, being reminded that things could be worse. He hadn’t expected Keigo to just let him talk, especially with all that heat pointed at him.

Keigo watched Touya, like he was expecting to be chewed out even more. When Touya shrugged, nothing left to say, the first words out of Keigo’s mouth were “I’m sorry.”

Touya stared. He wasn’t used to that either.

“I didn’t ask you to do all that stuff because I actually needed help.” Keigo’s voice sounded almost… timid? “I just wanted to see you more. Do stuff together.”

“But why,” Touya’s voice was strained.

“Are you serious, Touya? You think seeing you with Shouto that day made me like you any less? You got it all wrong. If anything, it was pretty attractive. Seeing different facets of you, y’know. Unguarded like that.” There was a sheepish look on Keigo’s face. Then he continued. “I watch that video a lot. It’s pretty lame, but I just liked seeing you like that. Something no one else gets to see.”

How did he say such embarrassing things without blushing?

“I was never gonna show it to anyone, really. I just used it as an excuse to keep talking to you every day.”

Touya thought that was stupid and told him so. “When has that stopped you before? It’s not like you need an excuse.”

Keigo gave him a thoughtful look. His brow creased for a moment, like he was trying to puzzle out Touya. “I don’t? After you made it pretty clear you didn’t want me hanging around?” He bit his lip. “You went pretty quiet after, I wasn’t sure what to do. Didn’t know how to make things normal again. Thought I’d need to come back with something good.”

“I didn’t want you to—” Touya hesitated, searching for the words. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” On paper, the words would have sent Touya into a defensive spiral, but they were spoken gently, leaving Touya room to think.

He exhaled slowly, willing the words to come out evenly. “You liked the version of me that I have to try to be. I didn’t want to have to keep up the act. It’s exhausting.”

“…And now?” Keigo asked, more softly this time.

“If you want to spend time with me, just do it. Don’t make it a huge thing.” Touya, feeling a prickle of self-consciousness, kicked a pebble in his path and watched as it skidded up ahead. “I’m going home. I’ll catch you later.”

“See ya,” echoed Keigo.

─ ·❀· ─

Keigo hadn't even waited a full hour before taking Touya up on his offer to ‘just do it’. As soon as Touya got home, his phone started buzzing relentlessly with the telltale cadence of messages from Keigo—short sporadic texts that tripped over themselves in their excitement, typos betraying the reckless abandon with which the messages had been sent, gratuitous bird stickers that conveyed the appropriate emotions. In an uncharacteristic turn, Keigo had suggested starting slow—no crashing at each other’s houses or anything, but a post-dinner phone call while they were studying for that upcoming world history exam was harmless enough.

Leave it to Keigo to take advantage of an offer. If you give a mouse a cookie…

It seemed he had no qualms with taking the initiative to rebuild their… whatever it was. Touya didn’t know what to call it, and thinking about it made his head spin.

As soon as his family finished eating, Touya migrated his school materials from the living room to his own room before locking the door. Stupid Shouto better not try to pick the lock again. He stared down at his phone, anticipating the call.

When it finally buzzed in his hand, Touya startled and picked up on the first ring. What he would give to not care what that said about him… “Hey,” Touya pitched his voice down, then internally swore at himself. Lame as hell.

“It’s weird hearing you over the phone,” Keigo said with a laugh. Touya’s shoulders loosened. Keigo’s cheery voice settled something in him.

They started off quizzing each other, but it quickly diverged. All it took was a simple question from Keigo (“what’s your mom’s side of the family like?”) to turn it into more of a history lesson about each of them. He surprised himself by opening up about the last time he’d visited his cousins in Sapporo, and asking about Keigo’s background in turn. It was like they hadn’t stopped talking for those few weeks at all.

It must have been hours before Touya heard an impatient knock on the wall he shared with Natsuo, a sign to wrap it up. Touya ignored him, but lowered his voice. Keigo seemed to delight in the change.

Touya heard a stifled yawn several minutes later. Keigo must have been getting tired. “Why don’t you just go to bed already,” Touya said with a huff of laughter.

Keigo let out a sound of dissent. “I’ll get ready, but I’m not hanging up just yet.”

“Can't get enough of me, huh?” Touya teased him.

“Really can't.” Keigo was earnest.

Touya bit his lip, not daring to give in to that fluttering feeling Keigo’s words had on him. “Hurry up and brush your teeth.”

They remained on the phone for a few more minutes before Keigo finally settled into bed. “Good night, Touya.” Keigo’s voice teetered on the edge of sleep, and Touya’s breath hitched as he let the intimacy wash over him.

When he finally hung up and settled into bed, Touya stretched, marveling at how quickly things had changed for the better. Then his phone buzzed a few more times. Keigo again.

Touya scrolled through the five messages (and five bird stickers) Keigo had sent, reminding him about the League of Villains show coming up that weekend. Touya’s eyes lit up. He’d forgotten about the LOV show entirely. So Keigo had been serious about that.

Touya rolled onto his side, typing out “yea of course.” Then, “meet here first?”

Keigo’s excitement flew off the screen. “it’s a date!!!” accompanied by excessive emojis.

Touya read the line over and over again, his breath held the entire time. He responded with a sticker of a fox sighing in exasperation, before following up with a happier-looking one giving a thumbs-up.

This time, he didn’t try to hold back the small smile that dawned on his face.

Yeah, he’d won.