Chapter Text
It was a particularly rainy day.
Not the fun, jump‑around‑in‑puddles kind of rain — no.
This was the sad, heavy, gloomy kind of day. The kind where the gray sky pressed down on you, and the sound of raindrops sliding down the window felt more comforting than your own thoughts. The kind of day where even getting out of bed felt like dragging yourself through mud.
God, that sounds depressing, Teru Minamoto sighed to himself. He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the rhythmic tapping of rain against glass fill the empty silence of the student council room.
“What was that, Minamoto‑kaichou?”
Teru blinked, startled from his thoughts. He turned to see that familiar red‑headed boy standing in the doorway — damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead, a lopsided grin resting easily on his face.
“Ah... Aoi…” Teru’s voice slipped out soft, almost a whisper. He froze. Why did his name always leave his lips like that — too gently?
He gathered himself and narrowed his eyes, one hand brushing against the hilt of his sword.
“What did I say about eavesdropping, Aoi?”
“H‑Hold on now, Pres! I swear I just got here!” Akane blurted, throwing up both hands in panic.
Teru studied him for a moment before dropping his guard with a quiet sigh.
“Hm. Well... alright then. You’re lucky you caught me in such a good mood, Aoi.”
And strangely enough, he wasn’t lying. Even though the weight of the weather had dragged him down all morning, somehow this boy — this infuriating boy — had the audacity to make him feel lighter just by being there.
How does he do that? Teru thought bitterly. It’s ridiculous.
Unfortunately, Teru knew exactly why that was.
But it didn’t matter. They were both boys. Something like that — something forbidden — would never be accepted in the Minamoto family. And worse still… Akane was a supernatural.
Or, half of one.
Whichever side you looked at, he was dangerous. Exorcists and supernaturals weren’t supposed to care about each other — they were supposed to be enemies. It was simpler to hate him. Safer that way.
At least, that’s what Teru liked to tell himself.
“Minamoto‑kaichou? You there?”
Teru snapped back to reality to find Akane waving his hand in front of his face.
He frowned and slapped the gesture away, perhaps a bit too harshly. Akane flinched and stepped back, startled.
Good. That’s how it should be. That distance — that fear — was familiar.
“Well, as I was saying…” Akane began again, trying to regain some composure. He cleared his throat, slipping into his vice‑president voice. “The bunkasai is only a month away, and we still haven’t started planning anything! You said you had a plan, but you haven’t told me anything! If we want this to go well, we really need to get started.”
Teru blinked. “Oh. Right. The bunkasai.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Akane let out a long, exasperated sigh.
Teru laughed, his tone slipping into playful whining. “Come on, you’re being harsh, Aoi. I was just really busy and didn’t have timeee”
He tilted his head, curiosity flickering behind his calm smile. “Though... why does this matter to you so much, anyway? You didn’t seem all that interested before.”
A faint shade of red spread across Akane’s cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.
“Well... if you must know... I kinda overheard Ao‑chan talking with her friends about how exciting this is gonna be. So, I thought... maybe, y’know... it’d be the perfect place to ask her out.”
Teru’s expression softened, though his stomach twisted with something sharp and sour. “Ask her out, huh?”
“Yeah!” Akane said enthusiastically, eyes lighting up. “With all the haunted houses, the food stalls, the music — it’s gonna be perfect! I’ll walk her home afterward, and when it’s quiet and we’re just sitting there together... that’s when I’ll ask the big question. And she’ll finally say yes!”
He was practically glowing.
Teru smiled faintly. “Ah. I see. You’ve really thought this through, huh, Aoi?”
“Of course! It’s gonna be perfect — and romantic! Only the best for Ao‑chan!”
Against his will, Teru’s smile faltered.
Akane Aoi. Aoi Akane.
Two people with names that looped around each other like a cruel joke.
Sure, Akane‑san was beautiful — smart, refined, everything a boy was supposed to want. But Teru had always found her impossible to like. Maybe because he’d seen the way she treated Aoi’s feelings — brushing them off, rejecting him again and again — never cruelly, but never kindly either.
He deserves better, Teru thought, his heart sinking. He deserves someone who actually sees him.
He exhaled. “Well then…” he began, forcing his usual smile. “I guess we should get started.”
Hours passed.
By the time Teru set his pen down, the clock read 7:42 PM. The school had long since gone quiet. Only the echo of distant rain broke the silence as it pattered against the windows.
Akane had fallen asleep not long ago — one arm draped on the desk, cheek pressed softly against his sleeve. His eyelashes rested gently against his skin.
For someone who’d been buzzing with excitement just hours ago, he sure ran out of energy fast.
Teru leaned an elbow on the desk, resting his chin in his hands. His eyes traced the peaceful lines of Akane’s sleeping face — the faint rise and fall of his breath, the way a strand of red hair had fallen over his forehead.
Warmth crept up Teru’s chest, heavy and unwelcome.
He shouldn’t look at him like this.
He really shouldn’t.
And yet...
“Aoi~”
The name escaped him before he could stop it, quiet and full of something he didn’t dare name. He caught his breath, startled by his own voice.
He straightened up quickly, masking the slip with a forced seriousness. “Time to wake up, Aoi.”
Akane stirred, blinking blearily. “Mm? Wh... what time is it?”
“Almost eight,” Teru replied, glancing down at his phone.
“Eight?!” Akane shot up, panicked, fumbling to collect his things. “Crap, crap, crap! I can’t believe I stayed this late!”
Teru chuckled quietly, watching him scramble.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Pres!” Akane called, already rushing to the door.
The sliding door shut behind him with a soft thud.
Teru’s hand lowered slowly, still raised from waving. His fingers pressed against his chest — right over the faint ache beating there.
“See you tomorrow…” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
A faint blush colored his cheeks, and his smile softened, sad and wistful all at once.
“See you tomorrow, Akane.”