Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Baji didn’t even notice.
They stood at the counter of the convenience store. There was no line—the crowd wasn’t exactly big when the night drifted between the hours of one and two am. Rather, they were waiting for the cashier, who seemed to have disappeared permanently into the backroom.
Baji banged his hand on the table. “Hello! Can ya hurry up?”
Besides him, Chifuyu rubbed his knuckles against his forehead. He was leaning against the counter, face red and sleep-flushed. “Stop yelling,” he murmured into his palm. In the other hand, he held one pack of Peyoung Yakisoba.
Baji banged on the counter again. The cash register rattled but Baji made sure to keep his voice lower when he spoke again. “Hello?”
There was some shuffling and someone appeared to attend to them. “Finally,” Baji muttered under his breath. It was cold in the store and he just wanted to leave to eat with Chifuyu. Had it taken any longer, Baji would’ve been a perpetrator of theft.
“200 yen.”
Baji rummaged through his pockets for crumpled bills but stopped when Chifuyu slid cash across the counter. He blinked. “Hey Chifuyu, wasn’t it my turn to pay?”
“Nah,” Chifuyu said. He didn’t elaborate any further.
Baji just shrugged. “Okay.” His memory was faulty and the night always fogged his mind. He swore Chifuyu had paid yesterday, but oh well. Chifuyu was the smarter one between the two of them. He could keep track better.
The second time had to be an accident.
Chifuyu slid the bill across the counter before Baji could even reach for his pockets. The cashier tucked it into the register with a monotone flick of their wrist. Baji furrowed his brows in confusion and kicked Chifuyu in the shin. “Oi, I’m supposed to pay today.”
“Nah,” Chifuyu said. No elaboration once again.
Now, Baji was dumb, but he could count. He wasn’t that stupid that he couldn’t keep track of a simple routine. Especially one that was so important to him.
“No, no.” Baji grabbed Chifuyu by his shoulders, ignoring the way his hands molded so perfectly around them. “You paid last night, remember?” Well, it had been morning, but who cared. It was dark out.
Chifuyu raised one sharp eyebrow that disappeared into the fluff of his hair. “Did you? Oh well.” He grabbed the yakisoba and started out of the convenience store. “Guess you’ll have to buy twice now.” He let out a bout of cheeky laughter as Baji stood there, looking like a dumb motherfucker.
Well, he was a dumb motherfucker.
Only people like him fell in love with their best friend.
That was an accident. Really, it was. Well, it wasn’t like Baji had some kind of itinerary that went: Toman meeting, beat up a gang, fall for Chifuyu. Baji never even kept a schedule like that. Once his homeroom teacher gave him a notebook to keep his To-Do’s in, and Baji used all the paper as bonfire fuel.
Anyways. Chifuyu. Stupidly pretty Chifuyu.
If anything, it was his fault. Screw him for having such fluffy hair, for his perfect cheekbones (out of all things, cheekbones?) and pretty smile. It was Chifuyu’s fault Baji was feeling this way. Baji knew it didn’t work like that, but it appeased him a bit to think that he wasn’t to blame for this crush.
Crush. Bleh. What a stupid word.
“Baji-san?” Chifuyu stood in the entrance. He looked so damn good in the shitty convenience store lighting. “You coming?”
Baji grunted and headed out the door. They had to walk back to the apartment complex because some shitty good-for-nothings decided to trash his bike a few months ago. Ever since then, Baji had to walk everywhere. It wasn’t really a problem; everywhere he had to go was within walking distance. Still, he missed his bike. It was up there with all his treasures, with Toman and his mom.
Besides, it made him look cool in front of Chifuyu too. Baji was sure he had some sort of downgrade without his bike. How the hell was he supposed to impress him?
Baji knew deep down that he really didn’t need to impress Chifuyu. The boy would stick by his side regardless of anything—Chifuyu was just good like that. He had been Baji’s anchor after losing Kazutora, had stayed with him even as he confessed sins of murder and beat the living shit out of him. Chifuyu was Baji’s constant in the world. No matter what changed in life or how many times the sun set, Chifuyu would be there with him.
But man, it would’ve been really nice to take Chifuyu for a bike ride just once more.
Irritation pooled in Baji’s stomach. He beat up the guys who trashed his bike. Bad. Real bad. Draken once off-handedly mentioned their hospital bill and Baji almost pitied them for the sky rocketing numbers. It was a shame he didn’t actually feel sorry for them though, because Baji was in the mood to beat them up again. He still had their addresses written down somewhere. He’d have to find it back in his room.
“You’ve been pretty quiet, Baji-san,” Chifuyu said, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk. It skittered for a bit before falling between the holes of a sewage drain.
Baji shrugged. “Thinking about my bike.” Well, he was also thinking about Chifuyu, but the boy didn’t need to know that.
Chifuyu kicked again, this time into open air. “Argh! Those damn bastards,” he spat, swinging his arms. The pack of peyoung yakisoba in his hands nearly went flying. “I can’t believe anyone would hold a grudge enough to do something like that. And to you!” Chifuyu cried out, as if it would’ve been okay if it were anyone else’s bike that was trashed. “Don’t they know who you are?”
Baji was pretty sure they knew exactly who he was, which is why they did it in the first place. But he wasn’t about to defend those assholes to his crush when the latter was speaking so highly of him.
Chifuyu swore under his breath. His face had turned a bit red from the outburst. “It just pisses me off. And now I have to—”
Chifuyu cut off suddenly. It caught Baji’s attention because he had been half heartedly listening to Chifuyu’s rant, more captivated by his passion than his actual words. “Huh?” Baji said, studying Chifuyu. He had shut up, lips sealed into some kind of grimace. “You’ve gotta what?”
“I—” Chifuyu stopped and then started again. “I’ve gotta put up with every bullshitter that makes fun of you for not having a bike,” he said slowly, softly, as if the thought of people mocking Baji hurt him.
People were making fun of him for not having a bike? Baji didn’t know. Then again, he was really dense. He slung a hand around Chifuyu’s neck and pulled him close. Baji could smell Chifuyu’s conditioner from here, his face practically shoved into Baji’s neck.
“You don’t gotta worry about shit like that, Chifuyu.” Baji laughed. Chifuyu was standing up for him. That was just so, so sweet. Too sweet—Baji’s heart was beating rapid-fire in his chest. He might just get one of those sugar diseases—what was it? Diabolic? Diabetic?
Chifuyu sighed and shook his head. “Fine,” he said, wrinkling his nose with distaste in a way that meant that it totally wasn’t fine and that he was still going to worry about it. They resumed walking, much closer together since Baji hadn’t moved his arm from around Chifuyu’s shoulder (and why would he? He was allowed to have small things like this.)
Chifuyu didn’t know how long he could keep this up.
Baji was dumb—okay that was rude, but it sort of was a fact. Unfortunately for Chifuyu, he wasn’t that kind of dumb. Baji was horrible with numbers and logic and schoolbook things, but he was a downright expert when it came to intuition and people.
Basically, he could read through Chifuyu.
Honestly, Chifuyu was surprised Baji hadn’t caught on yet. Maybe he’d been lucky. Chifuyu had bought four whole rounds of peyoung yakisoba. Four! His wallet was starting to feel a little robbed. The first time, it really was his turn. He got lucky the second time—Baji was always disoriented in the middle of the night. The third one he was able to play off as a mistake, and the fourth time they were in a rush to a Toman meeting.
What excuse could Chifuyu use now? Hell, how was he going to keep going without Baji finding out?
Chifuyu clawed at his hair, which actually kind of hurt—mind you, he doesn’t really have long, luscious locks like a certain someone. He stood in the fish aisle of the pet store. The tiny angelfishes stared expectantly at him, waiting for him to feed them. Chifuyu had picked up a part time job at the pet store with Baji and was currently in the middle of a shift. The boy of his predicament was somewhere else in the store, probably playing with the animals instead of tending to customers.
Chifuyu bit his tongue and ripped open a packet of fish food. He had been standing in front of the tank for five minutes and he kind of felt bad for making the fish wait. Besides, he wasn’t getting paid to loiter.
It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong by buying all the yakisoba, Chifuyu thought as he poured the fish flakes into the water. They scattered on the surface and the fishes darted towards them, plucking the flakes out one by one.
It was true. Chifuyu hadn’t done anything wrong, really. It’s not like it was some heinous crime. As a matter of fact, the situation benefited Baji more than anything. He was saving the other boy money.
But he was lying to Baji, and man, that felt bad.
It’s for a good cause, Chifuyu reminded himself. A very, very good cause.
The idea started with his manga.
The latest volume of Chifuyu’s favorite shoujo manga was released earlier in the month. Baji, the absolutely amazing person he was, had thought to pre-order it for him because his dumbass thought it wouldn’t sell out at the bookstores. Once again, Baji was intuitive. And amazing. And attractive, even though that was a bit irrelevant. Anyways—
So Chifuyu was reading this manga and it’s absolutely swell. The misunderstanding from the last chapter was completely cleared up and the girl was about to confess. It’s a hot summer day and they’re drenched with sweat so the girl decides to surprise the boy by buying him a bottle of his favorite soda. Soon it became a tradition. But one day, as the boy twists open the cap he sees a note peeking out and lo and behold, it’s a confession.
If Chifuyu audibly screamed at that part, no one needed to know.
The idea stuck with him—of course it did, he’d been obsessing over this manga for months. And then he realized. He realized. The peyoung yakisoba. He could totally pull this off with peyoung yakisoba.
All he had to do was build up a steady habit of buying Baji peyoung yakisoba, and then one day sneak a confession note into it when he wasn’t looking. When that day would be, Chifuyu didn’t know. He neglected to plan ahead.
The confession was probably not going to come.
And that was okay. Totally, perfectly, a-okay, because Chifuyu wasn’t interested in disturbing his friendship with Baji. He knew he wasn’t going to make things awkward or be rude; Baji was the nicest person ever. But that was the problem. If he knew about Chifuyu’s feelings, he’d constantly try to make the situation better for him or ease his heart break. He didn’t want Baji to have to go to unnecessary lengths for him.
Chifuyu sighed. The fish had finished all their food, fish flakes long gone. Ten minutes. Chifuyu had taken ten minutes to feed a single tank of fish.
He muttered a short curse under his breath that was dedicated to Baji and hurriedly moved on to the other tanks. It was almost closing time and Chifuyu and Baji had to leave soon.
“Yo, Chifuyu.” Speak of the devil.
Baji popped his head out from the aisle he was in. His hair was up in a bun that was slowly falling apart and he swung the shop keys around his index finger. How the hell could someone look so fine in a petshop apron?
“Hurry up, I’m hungry.”
Chifuyu turned to Baji with a deadpan. “Don’t you, I dunno, have a job or something?”
A wide grin spread onto his face, fangs peeking out. “Boss said we can leave once we finish our tasks.” He gave Chifuyu an appraising look. “Well, once you finish your task .”
Chifuyu scoffed and went back to feeding the fish, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be actually exasperated. Every conversation with Baji left him giddy and warm inside. It was a feeling Chifuyu was drunk on. If Baji dedicated every word he spoke to him, Chifuyu would be a man on fire.
Chifuyu stood by the door as Baji said goodbye to the cats.
It was routine by now. They step into the office to say bye to their boss, turn off the lights in the backroom, Baji says bye to the cats, and then they leave. If Baji had it his way, he’d be saying goodbye to every animal in the store and they'd be here for hours. But they had to leave at some point, so Baji stuck an animal and ran with it: cats. His reasoning was that they were closest to the door. It was absolutely not because cat’s were Baji’s favorite animal. He held no such bias. Baji said that if he picked a favorite it’d hurt the other animals’ feelings.
The whole thing gave Chifuyu heart trauma.
“Aww, you like head scratches?” Baji cooed. He was crouched by one of the lower cages, one hand in pocket and the other with the cat. His hair was piled over his back, but when he leaned forward, a lock fell over his shoulder and into his face. Chifuyu wanted to brush it away for him.
Baji let out a soft chuckle and straightened up. That was the last of the cats. “Let’s go?” Chifuyu just nodded and pushed the door open wider for him. Moments like these were too terrifying to speak in. Chifuyu was sure he’d blurt out a confession if he even opened his mouth the slightest bit.
So he kept his lips sealed.
October brought early sunsets, so it was dark when they left the store. Chifuyu supposed the peyoung would be for dinner. He’d have to check if he had any rice back at his apartment to complete the meal.
Chifuyu glanced at Baji. He was pouting.
Probably thinking about his bike.
Every time they walked somewhere they normally biked, Baji got this look on his face. It wasn’t necessarily sadness, but rather a silent frustration. Chifuyu nudged him with his shoulder. It was sturdy and warm in the cold night and Chifuyu wanted to stay pressed against him, but he didn’t. He moved away.
“Yakisoba?” He asked.
Baji rolled his eyes and scoffed. “What else? You’re gonna lose the right to call me the dumb one if you keep up with questions like that.”
Chifuyu spluttered. Crush or not, that was a violation. He cursed and kicked Baji in the shin, which in turn got him a soon-to-be bruise on his forearm. He responded by tackling Baji (it was harder than it looked. The boy was tall). They fought all the way down to the convenience store. By the time they reached, they were panting like they had ran a marathon in the middle of July, cold forgotten.
The convenience store heating felt nauseating after their fight. Chifuyu fanned himself. Next to him, Baji took off his jacket. Chifuyu gazed at the way his t-shirt fit his lean arms. Normally he’d stop himself, but the adrenaline from before kept him from caring.
Baji raised an eyebrow at him, cheeks still rosy. He’d been caught staring. Shit. Chifuyu played it off by walking to the noodle aisle and snatching up a pack of peyoung yakisoba. He had an upcoming mission: pay for the food without Baji picking up on it. Hopefully the other boy was too worn out to pay attention to it.
Chifuyu went up to the register casually, as if it were definitely his turn to pay and not anything else in the world. He placed the package on the counter.
“Chifuyu, do you think I’m stupid?”
Dread pooled in his stomach. He whipped around. “What?” Chifuyu asked. It came out breathy and nervous.
Baji looked unimpressed. “I know it’s my turn to pay. I know it’s been my turn to pay,” he counted on his fingers, “for two rounds.”
It was actually three, but Chifuyu wasn’t about to correct him. He swallowed. “I—” Shit. Why was he freaking out? It wasn’t like Baji was mad at him. It was a simple statement about fucking peyoung yakisoba, of all things. He toyed with the ends of his shirt but his hands were sweaty, so he opted to rub them on his jeans instead.
Baji cocked his head to the side. There was a question in his eyes but he didn’t ask it. The answer must’ve been coming to him in his head. Intuitive, Chifuyu’s mind reminded him.
God, Chifuyu’s face must’ve been so red. It was such a tell tale. He knows. He knows you like him. This is where it changes. This is where it falls apart.
“What’s going on, Chifuyu?” Baji asked. His voice was softer than before; he picked up on Chifuyu’s nervousness.
Chifuyu shrugged and shuffled in place. “I just—” he didn’t meet Baji’s eyes. “Dunno, wanted to do something nice.”
“Hah?” Baji said, loud and abrupt, cutting through the thick tension clouding Chifuyu’s mind. He blinked a few times. “But you’re always nice.”
And just like that, everything was back to normal. Baji took it. He took Chifuyu’s reason and accepted it. And it wasn’t a lie—Chifuyu did want to do something nice for Baji. If Baji picked up anything else out of his behavior, he kept it to himself. Chifuyu’s crush was veiled for yet another day.
“That’s not what I meant,” Chifuyu said, and then added, “Stupid.”
Baji got in his face. “I take it back about the nice part. You’re horrible. I’m going to forget that it’s my turn to pay and let you waste your money away.”
Chifuyu laughed and it was like all the day’s worries dissipated at that moment. There was this knot in his chest—this big, mangley, tangled ball of string—and Baji was pulling at it. And it should’ve been tough work; Baji should’ve had to poke and prod and lose sleep over unwinding it. But he didn’t. He was able to unravel it with just a few words and there lay Chifuyu’s heart. For him to take. For him to do whatever he wished to do.
Baji was staring at him when Chifuyu calmed from his laughter so he let out a giggle to mask the awkward blush setting over him. When he looked back at Baji again, the boy was still staring at him. There was this intense look on his face. It wasn’t as if he were focused or immersed in a deep thought, but something else that Chifuyu couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Still, the scrutiny was a bit embarrassing. Chifuyu prayed to get some mercy; his face had been red for long enough.
Chifuyu was too distracted to notice the cashier come to the counter, his back facing the register. Baji handed over the money and Chifuyu opened his mouth to protest.
“I’m paying,” Baji said. There was a challenge on his face, asking if Chifuyu was going to reach over the table to snatch the money back and pay himself. The answer was obviously no. Chifuyu accepted his defeat. He looked down and sighed.
A hand on his head interrupted his brief moping. Baji had his fingers nestled in Chifuyu’s hair, thumb running circles right behind his ear. Chifuyu suppressed the surprised choke he was about to let out, but he wasn’t able to stop the shiver that ran down his body.
“Baji-san?” Chifuyu asked. It was a whisper. His voice would crack if he spoke any louder.
“You’re too good to me,” Baji said. He was looking at the floor, a private smile playing on his lips. He had yet to move his hand from Chifuyu’s hair. The cashier was long gone, having rang up their item and left.
“What do you mean?” Chifuyu turned towards Baji. If he leaned into his touch, that was nobody’s business.
Baji stroked the hair in front of his face. He brushed it to the side, touch so gentle that Chifuyu couldn’t believe this hand had beat up so many people. He let his hand linger by Chifuyu’s face before going back to his hair.
“You’re just—” Baji paused to get his words together. “You do shit like this. No reason. Everyone’s going about normally, minding their own business, and you’re out here thinking of ways to make me happier. I mean,” Baji laughed a bit, “Who does that? How the hell can someone be so cool?”
Chifuyu didn’t respond. Well, he couldn’t respond. He was too busy fighting off the urge to fling himself onto Baji and just stick there, koala style. He’s cool? Baji should look at himself.
Baji Keisuke was a hypocrite. He was the world’s biggest hypocrite, calling Chifuyu out for going out of his way to make him happy—which he admits, he does that—as if Baji himself didn’t do the same. When Chifuyu’s mom didn’t let him get a bike and he was the only first division member without one, Baji let him ride on his every time. Every single time. He snuck down to knock on Chifuyu’s window whenever he complained about nightmares. He bought Peke J his favorite treats, mind you—they were super rare in stores (Peke J was a hard cat to please).
Chifuyu just shook his head, but he couldn’t stop his lips from spreading into a smile. God, today was such a good day. Chifuyu would stay forever in this shitty convenience store if it would keep this moment alive.
“Don’t be misled,” Baji said sternly, but it was hard to take him seriously. “I’ll punch you if you mess up our paying streak again. This paying for each other and splitting the food,” Baji pointed between the two of them, “That’s our thing. Kay?”
Chifuyu just smiled. His cheeks hurt a bit. “Okay, Baji-san.”
And that was that. They headed into the night, two boys lit aflame to tread through the cold dark. And when they’d get home, there would be a meal for two. And it would be perfect.