Chapter Text
It was an average afternoon after school at Byakudan Senior High School. That is to say, Kensuke Kurosaki, Tomohiro Ohkawa, and Ryosuke Katayama were hanging out in the council room despite having no council affiliation. The president, Masato Fukuroi, was trying to get work done, but Tomohiro and Ryosuke were yapping away… Ryosuke being particularly loud and exceptionally obnoxious.
“Ohmigod Hiro, did I tell you about Crush Blush 300 Deluxe Ultimate Ero Party?”
Fukuroi struggled to understand what any of those words meant.
“Huh? Oh! The new dating sim you found at that resale store? No, I don’t think so!”
Ah. That made a whole lot of sense now.
“Well, I went down Reina’s route for my first playthrough, and she totally shows you her boobs, like, a chapter in!”
“Woah! Who knew fake girls could be so easy?”
Fukuroi wanted to kill himself. He glanced over to Kurosaki, who was also giving the gamers a bit of a side eye. Fukuroi did his best to wordlessly plead with his friend to get those two out of the room before he burst a blood vessel. Kurosaki nodded and grinned.
“Heard you loud and clear, man.”
Ryosuke tilted his head inquisitively.
“Heard what now?”
“Oh, you know… that there’s this super rare limited edition trading card at the convenience store down the street.”
Tomohiro shot to his feet.
“Really?!”
Kurosaki nodded confidently.
“Yep. Heard rumors that some superfan from overseas left it behind by accident, and now the clerk is gonna hand it out to whoever wants it. First come first serve kind of thing.”
Kurosaki shot Fukuroi a smug look as Tomohiro excitedly turned to Ryosuke, who was still seated against the wall.
“Come on, Ryosuke! We have to go check it out! This could be huge!”
Ryosuke seemed unsure, not moving even slightly.
“I dunno, dude. Kurosaki doesn’t really know about this sorta thing, so it could end up being some lame-o common card… plus, if it’s first come first serve, a really rare card would be looong gone by now.”
Then Tomohiro gave him those classic puppy dog eyes… It was super effective!
“Come on, please?”
“...Okay, fine.”
Tomohiro cheered giddily and practically burst out of the room, Ryosuke lagging behind. Once he shut the door behind him, Kurosaki turned to look at the president.
“And that’s how it’s done!”
“You’re a miracle worker, Kensuke.”
Kurosaki shrugged, nonchalant.
“It’s no biggie. I just learned how they operate.”
“Seriously, Kensuke, I can say wholeheartedly that I owe you one.”
At that, Kurosaki’s eyes gained a glint of mischief, and Fukuroi’s expression soured.
“...what?”
“Well, if you owe me one… how big of a one are we talking, here?”
Fukuroi sincerely thought about that. Considering he was about three seconds away from killing someone else or himself… “A big one, I suppose.”
“Well in that case… how about you let me ask her out?”
When the two of them came to the realization that they both had a thing for Mitsuki, the two had came to an agreement that neither of them would make a move. Bro code, or something like that. Fukuroi furrowed his brow.
“Kensuke, that’s not-”
“No pressure or anything like that! Just figured I’d ask…”
Fukuroi’s brow stayed furrowed. He didn’t want to be, colloquially, a square, but… he really did love that woman. It would absolutely break his heart, but that's selfish of him, isn’t it? If she’d be happy with Kurosaki, then he had no right to intercept that chance. The Lord only knew she needed her next relationship to be with someone good after everything with her ex, and Kurosaki was the best guy that Fukuroi ever had the pleasure of knowing. So he went and opened his mouth.
“No. Go right ahead.”
Kurosaki looked nothing short of flabbergasted.
“Woah, really? Dude, are you sure?”
“Positive. I do owe you one, after all.”
Kurosaki eyed his friend suspiciously, searching for any slight sign of doubt. He didn't find it. Fukuroi had an impeccable poker face.
“Sick…! I'll, uh, tell you how it goes?”
“Please do.”
Fukuroi was laid atop his bed, not under the sheets or anything, just staring at the ceiling in his pajamas. He had this horrible longing sensation in his gut and could do little to shoo it away. There were very few things in this world that Masato invested his energy into, and most of those things could be boiled down to “his studies.” He wasn't all academics, though. He had other hobbies. He loved logic puzzles of all shapes, sizes, and forms. From sudoku to chess, there was a special joy siphoned from solving infinitely varied conundrums through a finite and fixed set of rules. It was like chemistry, really. Find the right way to get the correct reaction. He took that same approach to socialization. Every day was a different story but the people always stayed the same. He always stayed the same.
Maybe that was why he told Kensuke to go for it. In the end, he was far too scared of change to ever ask Mitsuki out. Their prior “bro code” had been his excuse to chicken out for so long. What if he asked her, and she said no? Hypothetically they could still be friends, but it was just as possible that they could hypothetically never talk again, or they could hypothetically have a strained relationship as friends. Or she could have said yes, and hypothetically they could have been a happy couple, or they hypothetically could have been a horrible match and grown to resent each other. He sighed and flipped over to bury his face in his pillow pubescently. He felt like a child for doing so, but continuing down this train of thought for the nth time wouldn't do anyone any good.
He was waiting for the feeling of his phone vibrating with a new message from Kensuke. He wasn't sure why, really– it wasn’t like he’d go over and see her tonight with a boombox and bouquet… that was far too Hollywood to happen in real life. And so that buzz never came, and so sleep came instead.