Yu didn't go back to class. The girls wouldn't let him. They kept him nestled between them at the park until the final bell rang, talking about everything but school—cute dogs they'd seen, silly Halloween costumes they saw online, snacks they wanted to try next time.
Yu smiled once or twice, weak little flickers, but the shadows under his eyes never left. His heart ached like it was wrapped in ice, the whispers of Isuke's voice still clinging to his skin. Every time his gaze drifted toward the schoolyard, though, he looked away again, afraid of who he might see.
'Taichi…'
---
Inside, Taichi lingered by the faculty office long after the meeting ended, the sour taste of submission still burning in his throat. He wanted to storm out, to hunt down Yu, to tear the false smiles off every face spreading Isuke's lies.
But his father's chain tugged tighter. One wrong move now, and even Ling wouldn't be able to shield him.
So he waited.
He sat slouched against the wall in the empty hallway, head tilted back, staring at the ceiling as if it might give him answers. His fists flexed restlessly. The memory of Yu crying into his chest earlier replayed, sharper than any blade.
He needed to see him.
The day dragged further into dusk.
It wasn't until the schoolyard had thinned, the voices fading one by one, that Fumiko, Sakura, and Haruka finally made their return to school grounds.
Yu walked between them, his steps hesitant, his pale hair catching the dimming light. His hands clutched the straps of his bag tight against his chest, as if it might shield him from what waited.
And then he saw him.
"Taichi…"
The word slipped out of Yu's mouth before he could stop it. His pace quickened, then faltered, as if his heart was pulling him forward but fear was still anchoring his feet.
Taichi pushed himself off the school gate, his chest tightening at the sight of him. For a moment, neither of them moved closer.
It was the girls who gave Yu a gentle push.
"Go on, Yu."
Fumiko murmured, her hand warm on his back.
Yu stumbled forward, and in the next breath he was in Taichi's arms again, the world falling away. He pressed his face into the fabric of Taichi's uniform, trembling, and whispered.
"I was so scared… I missed you so much…"
Taichi's arms closed around him like steel, his lips brushing the crown of Yu's head. He didn't care who saw. Didn't care what it cost him.
"I'm here now, Yu. I'm so sorry I scared you. I'm so sorry I left you alone. I'm so sorry… for everything."
He murmured, low and fierce.
"I love you, Yu."
Behind them, the girls exchanged looks—anger burning in their eyes not at Taichi, but at the boy still lurking somewhere beyond.
Isuke Sasaki had declared a war.
And now, they were ready to fight it too.
---
From the second-floor window, Isuke Sasaki leaned against the frame, the autumn wind tugging at his perfectly arranged hair. His smile, the one he had worn all day for the benefit of his classmates and teachers, was gone.
Below, Yu buried himself against Taichi's chest, and for the first time, Isuke felt something tighten, hot and ugly, in his throat.
'This wasn't supposed to happen.'
Yu was supposed to cling to him. Yu was supposed to tremble in his arms.
Instead, he was reaching for Taichi like he'd been starved, like he'd drown without him.
Isuke's hands curled into fists. The knuckles popped.
"Strange…"
He whispered to himself, voice low and cold.
"Taichi should have been finished after today. A final warning from the faculty… yet he walks free."
His gaze flicked upward, narrowing.
"And Mother—"
He thought of the sudden transfer papers, the phone call from the hospital, the praise in every doctor's mouth. State-of-the-art research center. Abroad. Immediate acceptance.
Convenient. Too convenient.
Isuke's nails bit into his palm, the sting grounding his rage.
"…Was it you, Arifukua?"
He murmured, eyes following the pair below as if he could pierce through the distance with his will alone.
His perfect composure cracked, and his smile twisted into something sharp, poisonous.
Isuke sat alone at his desk in the student council office, his reflection faint in the darkening window. The mask he wore at school was gone, replaced by an expression far colder.
His voice was low, steady as he spoke to no one.
"I had heard he came from money. Thought it was only rumors but… perhaps they were true. Heh. Pulling strings you shouldn't even be able to touch. Daddy's money, no doubt. I'll have to dig deeper, but…"
He tapped his fingers on the desk, each strike sharper than the last.
"He thinks sending me away will make me powerless."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He got up with languid grace.
"But even oceans can't sever what I've already sunk my claws into. Yu belongs to me. And when Mother's treatment is over—when I come back—"
His eyes narrowed, glittering like shards of ice, the soles of his shoes echoing off the cold marble floors.
"—I'll take back what's mine. And you, Taichi Arifukua… you'll choke on the cost of what you've done."
The office door clicked shut behind him, leaving the air colder than before.
---
Outside the school gates, the group moved as one.
Yu, still tucked close to Taichi's side, felt the warmth of his hand steadying him with every step. On his other side, Haruka carried his bag for him, making sure he didn't stumble.
Sakura and Fumiko flanked them, their chatter light but their eyes scanning for shadows, ready to shield him again if needed.
Yamato and Souma tried to make jokes, commenting on how much stronger Taichi had gotten recently and asking for tips.
To the students who lingered nearby, the sight was unmistakable: Yu was no longer alone.
He was surrounded, protected.
And at the center of it all, Taichi walked with his chin high, the weight of his bargain still burning in his chest—but also the certainty that Yu was beside him, with him.
The sun dipped lower, streaking the sky orange and pink, and for the first time in days, Yu allowed himself to breathe.
Even if the trap was still closing.
Even if Isuke's shadow still stretched long.
In this moment, they were together.
And that meant everything.
Like usual, when they reached the corner, Sakura and Fumiko peeled away from the group, heading towards their own homes. Haruka crossed the street to go to the train station, her home actually being in the opposite direction and Yamato and Souma followed to make sure she got home safe.
The orange glow of twilight hung low as Yu and Taichi walked together, finally free of the girls' watchful eyes.
They didn't talk much—Yu too shy, Taichi too weighed down—but the silence between them wasn't empty.
Yu's hand hovered by his side, brushing against Taichi's once, then again, before finally slipping into his. The contact made his chest ache with relief, like the world had been set right again.
"…I missed you."
Yu whispered, his voice trembling, almost swallowed by the sounds of passing cars.
Taichi stopped walking. Slowly, he turned to face him, his usual scowl softened into something raw.
"Dummy…"
He muttered, but the word cracked at the edges. His thumb brushed over Yu's knuckles as he pulled him closer.
"Do you know how worried I was? Not seeing you? Not knowing if that bastard was—"
He broke off, jaw tight.
Yu leaned into him, pressing his forehead against Taichi's chest.
"I was so scared… but I knew. I knew you still loved me."
'Because DK01 told me… it's at fifty.'
That statement, so absurd and yet so utterly Yu, made Taichi's chest ache even worse. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight enough to feel Yu's trembling slow.
"…I'm sorry. I'll be better."
Taichi promised quietly, against the crown of his head.
"For you. No matter what it takes. I promise."
Yu's answer was a quiet, muffled.
"I only want you."
For a fleeting moment, the shadow of Isuke Sasaki didn't exist.
For the next couple days, Yu had been glued to Taichi since the park. His fingers clung to Taichi's sleeve when they walked, his cheek found Taichi's shoulder when they sat, and even in the classroom his hands sought Taichi's warmth, trembling whenever they lost contact. When Taichi wasn't there, the girls shielded him like a living wall, but it wasn't enough—Yu needed him.
At home, it only deepened. Yu would curl against Taichi on the couch, arms tight around his middle, nuzzling like he might disappear if he let go. Taichi didn't complain. Not once. If anything, his chest hurt watching Yu try so desperately to anchor himself.
---
One night, Taichi slipped into the bathroom first, hoping the steam and hot water might settle the storms brewing in his head. He sat on the little stool, towel loose at his waist, hair dripping. But his mind wasn't quiet. The fight. The rumors. His father's shadow. Yu's tears. All of it churned.
The door creaked.
"Yu?"
He turned—and froze.
Yu stood in the doorway, barefoot, pale skin almost glowing in the humid light. A towel was wrapped around his body—around his whole body, the way a girl would. Another was twisted over his long white hair.
Taichi flushed scarlet.
"Wh—why the hell are you wearing it like that? We're both guys. We've got the same… parts. It looks—"
He cut himself off, scowling.
"It's weird."
Yu blinked, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him.
"Oh… right. I forgot."
He reached to untuck the towel, fingers at the knot at his chest.
Panic jolted through Taichi's veins like lightning. It wasn't that he didn't know Yu was a boy—he did. But the sight, the innocence of the gesture, felt forbidden, like he was about to see something he wasn't meant to.
"W-wait—don't!"
Taichi lurched to stop him. His foot slipped on the wet tile. In the same instant, Yu startled back, the towel loosening.
The world tilted—then crashed.
Taichi slammed forward, but instinct took over. His arm shot around Yu, hand cupping the back of his head to keep it from hitting the tile. Their bodies collided, chest to chest, towel to towel, the steam wrapping around them like a shroud.
Time stilled.
Yu's breath hitched against his collarbone. His ruby eyes stared up, wide, shimmering through the fog. Taichi hovered above him, muscles locked, every nerve screaming with heat and restraint.
He hadn't even realized how fast his heart could beat until now.
"…Idiot!"
Taichi whispered, his voice shaking more than he wanted.
"You're gonna kill me like this."
And yet, even as he said it, his hand stayed firm against Yu's head—protective, instinctive, unshakable.
The steam curled around them, the damp air thick with the sound of their shallow breaths. Taichi's palm stayed firm at the back of Yu's head, keeping him safe, while his other hand braced against the slick tile to keep his weight from crushing him.
For a heartbeat too long, neither moved. Yu's flushed face, so close, so wide-eyed, made Taichi's chest ache. His lips nearly brushed the somewhat damp white hair at Yu's temple, and the thought alone burned his ears red.
"Damn it…"
Taichi muttered under his breath, though it wasn't anger—it was something far more dangerous. He swallowed hard, pulling back.
The instant he tried to push himself up, Yu's trembling hand clutched at him.
"D-don't go."
His voice was tiny, almost breaking. His other hand held the towel tight against his chest, shaking like if Taichi pulled away now, he'd disappear into nothing.
Taichi froze. His heart kicked again, harder. He couldn't… He couldn't push Yu off when he looked like that.
"…Fine."
His voice came rough, unsteady. He raked a wet hand back through his dark hair, crimson from ear to neck.
"You can stay. Just… not like that. Help me wash my back or something."
Yu blinked. Then—soft, bright—he smiled. A fragile smile, but real.
"Okay."
Reluctantly, Taichi eased back onto the stool. Yu straightened his towel again, deliberately covering his chest the way he had before, as if that somehow made him decent. Taichi averted his eyes the moment he saw the motion, his face flushed and he shakes his head as if to will away the heated thoughts that were creeping in.
'He's far too cute…'
And yet, the sight made his stomach flip.
Yu knelt behind him with a small soapy hand towel, hands delicate but determined. He scrubbed gently at Taichi's shoulders, then down his back, each motion precise, focused—like a housewife who'd done this a hundred times before.
Taichi closed his eyes, fighting the red in his cheeks. The warmth of Yu's touch seeped through the thin cloth, careful, tender in a way Taichi wasn't used to. His chest tightened in a different way now—not from embarrassment, but from the overwhelming weight of how much Yu needed him… and how much he needed Yu back.
Yu hummed softly under his breath, a faint tune Taichi couldn't place, as he worked the soapy towel down the slope of Taichi's back. His touch wasn't hurried or awkward—if anything, it was diligent, like each stroke mattered, like he was memorizing the shape of Taichi's shoulders through the cloth.
"You're so tense here…"
Yu said softly, pressing the towel a little harder against Taichi's shoulder blades.
"Like you're carrying too much… all the time."
Taichi gave a rough chuckle, more a deflection than anything.
"You sound like some old married lady."
Yu smiled—Taichi could hear it in his voice, warm and unguarded.
"Maybe that's fine. If it means I can take care of you."
The words hit harder than they should've. Taichi swallowed, heart pounding as Yu finished and patted his back dry with a gentleness that nearly undid him.
"…Alright. Switch."
Taichi muttered, standing before Yu could cling again. He grabbed the towel from Yu's hand and nodded at the stool.
Yu blinked, wide-eyed, then shyly sat down, clutching the larger towel across his chest like armor. His pale back was bared to Taichi, smooth and almost porcelain under the steam, his long hair pinned up with the smaller towel.
Taichi froze. Heat slammed into his face so hard it made him dizzy.
"D-damn it…"
He hissed, forcing himself to kneel behind Yu. He set the towel against Yu's back and began scrubbing, every motion stiff with restraint.
It should've felt ordinary. Innocent. But it didn't. The warmth of Yu's skin bled through the thin fabric with every stroke, the curve of his narrow waist, the dip of his spine, the subtle rise of his shoulder blades—every detail too much. It wasn't like when Yu had washed him, so matter-of-fact, so domestic. This felt… indecent. Like Taichi was crossing a line he wasn't sure he could come back from.
"Taichi…"
Yu's voice was quiet, almost shy.
"It tickles."
He almost dropped the towel.
With a sharp breath, Taichi jerked back.
"I-I'm done!"
He stood quickly, tossing the towel aside before his restraint snapped.
"Let's just—get in the tub already. The water'll… wash the rest."
Yu tilted his head, puzzled, but didn't argue. Instead, he stood, adjusting his towel again with a quiet obedience, and followed Taichi toward the tub.
Taichi clenched his fists at his sides, trying not to imagine how fragile Yu's body had felt beneath his hands—how much he wanted to both protect him and hold him closer.
The bathwater steamed gently as Taichi slid in first, sinking down with a sigh that was more relief than comfort. He settled against one wall of the tub, running a hand through his damp hair, forcing his gaze forward.
"Sit with your back to me…"
He muttered.
"That way… I won't have to watch you do dumb stuff with your towel."
Yu obeyed without a word, slipping into the water and settling back until his narrow shoulders brushed against Taichi's chest. The warmth of the water enveloped them both, but the heat between their bodies was something else entirely.
For a few moments, it worked. They sat still, the faint sound of water lapping against porcelain filling the silence. Taichi tried to let the steam blur everything, to keep his thoughts under control.
But Yu moved.
At first, just a small shift, his head leaning back against Taichi's shoulder. Then his hands—slender, damp—slid over Taichi's arms, clutching them as if anchoring himself. His body pressed closer, every inch of his damp skin against Taichi's bare torso under the water.
"Yu…"
Taichi warned, voice raw.
"I don't want you be away anymore."
Yu whispered, almost trembling.
"I feel safe when I'm close like this… Please."
Taichi's restraint snapped by a single thread. He twisted slightly, turning Yu's face toward him, and before he could think better of it, his mouth was on Yu's.
The kiss was deep, searing, water splashing around them as Yu gasped into it. Taichi's arms locked around him, dragging him close, closer still until Yu's chest pressed flush to his own. Their towels shifted, forgotten in the surge of heat and movement.
Yu's hands clutched at Taichi's wet skin, responding with a hunger that startled them both. Their kiss deepened, stealing the breath from their lungs as Taichi leaned Yu back against the cool porcelain wall of the tub. The contrast of hot water, cool tile, and blazing heat between them made Taichi's head spin.
"Damn it, Yu…"
Taichi groaned against his lips, kissing him harder, unable to stop himself. Every instinct screamed to pull back before it went too far, but Yu's trembling body and desperate clinging only pulled him deeper in.
For the first time in days, Yu wasn't crying. He wasn't trembling. He was holding Taichi back with equal need, soft whimpers escaping into the spaces between their kisses.
And Taichi—losing himself in the moment—didn't know how he was supposed to stop.
The kiss continued to deepened, water splashing as Taichi shifted, pressing Yu firmly into the tub wall. Every brush of lips, every desperate tug of Yu's hands against his skin, only dragged him further into the fire.
The heat was unbearable. The steam, the press of Yu's slick body against his own, the faint sound of Yu's whimpers between stolen breaths—it all tangled together until Taichi felt drunk on it.
Then something else stirred.
Yu's hands weren't only clinging anymore—they were sliding, grasping, almost searching. His chest rose and fell in frantic rhythm, his lips parting as if something deeper inside him were awakening. A faint, shivering sound escaped his throat, more instinct than intent, and it lit every nerve in Taichi's body on fire.
Taichi knew. He knew what it was—or at least, he thought he knew—desire, lust, a wanting on a physically intimate level. However what he didn't know, what he couldn't have ever guessed was actually a dangerous hunger Yu had buried, the Incubus instincts of a dormant soul clawing its way to the surface.
"Yu—"
Taichi rasped, breaking the kiss for half a breath. But Yu leaned forward instantly, chasing his mouth, trembling with need. His ruby eyes shimmered faintly through the steam, glazed with something that made Taichi's gut twist.
Every inch of Taichi screamed to give in. To let Yu take what he craved. To hold him down and lose himself in the same fire.
But then—like ice water crashing through him—Taichi saw the way Yu's body shook, the way his fragile fingers dug desperately into him. Not because he was ready. Not because he understood. Because he needed to feel safe. Because he was afraid to let go.
Taichi jerked back, bracing both hands against the tile, chest heaving.
"Stop."
He hissed, more at himself than Yu. He shut his eyes tight, willing the red haze to clear.
"If I don't—… damn it."
Yu blinked, lips parted, breath trembling.
"Taichi…?"
Taichi forced himself to look away, forcing his voice steady even as his heart thundered.
"If I keep going, I'll do something we'll both regret. And I won't—"
He swallowed, hard.
"I won't scare you like that. Not you."
For a long, taut moment, only the sound of their ragged breathing and the drip of condensation filled the bathhouse.
Yu trembled, clutching the towel that was beginning to slip closer to his chest, eyes glistening—not with rejection, but with something softer, fragile.
Taichi dragged a hand through his soaked hair, leaning back against the tub, putting space between them even as every part of him screamed against it.
"Let's just… soak. Nothing else."