The silence stretched, heavy and trembling between them. Taichi leaned back, head tipped against the tile, trying to wrestle his heartbeat under control.
Yu's breath hitched once, then steadied. Slowly, carefully, he shifted in the water. Instead of pulling away, he slid closer, his towel still clutched to his chest, and lowered himself against Taichi's chest.
"Yu—"
"Don't move."
Yu whispered. His voice was fragile, but steady. He tucked his long, damp hair over one shoulder and pressed his cheek to Taichi's collarbone.
"I… I like it here."
Taichi stiffened for a moment, then let out a long breath. His arm—hesitant at first—wrapped around Yu's narrow shoulders, pulling him in just enough.
"You're a damn handful, you know that?"
Yu gave a tiny laugh, muffled against him.
[Interesting…]
DK01's voice cut softly through Yu's thoughts, smooth and calm as ever.
[By the metrics of narrative roles, Taichi Arifukua fits the protagonist archetype more than Isuke Sasaki ever could. He fights for you. He protects you. He bleeds for you. And despite his flaws, his story is one of growth.]
Yu's ruby eyes softened, gazing at the rippling water.
'…Yeah.'
He answered silently.
'He really does. Taichi feels more like the hero than anyone else. More than Isuke ever did.'
A warmth bloomed in his chest, heavier than the steam, deeper than the water.
'I'm… lucky. Lucky he's mine.'
Taichi shifted slightly, pressing his chin lightly to the top of Yu's head. He didn't say anything more, but the steadiness of his heartbeat against Yu's cheek was all the reassurance Yu needed.
In that quiet, fragile bubble of steam and warmth, the world outside—the rumors, the shadows, the fear—felt like it didn't exist.
For a little while, Yu let himself believe it.
The steam curled around them in lazy ribbons, water lapping gently against the sides of the tub. Taichi's chin rested lightly on Yu's crown, Yu nestled against his chest, their breaths finally syncing after the storm of heat and restraint.
No more words passed between them. There didn't need to be any.
In that fragile, stolen peace, Yu let himself believe he was safe, anchored by Taichi's warmth. And Taichi, despite the turmoil pounding in his chest, tightened his arm just a little—as if daring the world to try and take Yu away.
The water rippled once more, then stilled.
The bathroom lights glowed faint, hazy through the steam.
And the night faded out on that fragile, fleeting peace.
---
The next morning, Yu stirred weakly, his skin clammy beneath the blanket. His breaths came shallow, his body burning hot yet shivering cold. Yu sniffled once then twice, his head felt heavy, his throat scratchy, and a faint chill clung stubbornly to his body despite the blanket wrapped around him.
He coughed weakly, blinking at the pale morning light slipping through his curtains. His head pounded like a drum, every pulse stabbing sharper than the last. Sweat clung to his skin, soaking the pillow beneath him.
"…It hurts?"
His voice was hoarse, disbelieving. He curled tighter under the blanket, hugging it to his chest. The memories of the night before—the bath, the kisses, the warmth—flickered through his mind like a dream, too hazy, too charged.
But the pounding in his head was very real.
'What's… happening to me?'
Yu whispered inside his head, voice trembling.
'Why do I feel so weak? Am I dying?'
DK01's calm, mechanical voice answered, though tinged with exasperation.
[You've caught a cold, Yu.]
"A… cold?"
[Yes. A human sickness. You were in the bath for too long, and your body couldn't handle the temperature shift. It's normal—but dangerous if you don't take care of yourself. Humans are far more fragile than they realize.]
Yu's lips quivered. His fever-bright eyes watered as a terrible thought struck him.
'Fragile… like Mei Sasaki…'
His chest tightened with panic.
'She's sick too. Am I going to die, like her?'
He began to cry, small hiccupping sobs muffled into the blanket.
[Idiot.]
DK01's voice sharpened.
[That woman has a completely different illness. A cold is temporary. You'll be fine. Don't compare the two.]
'Yukio died from a fever, didn't he?'
[...Irrelevant. He died because he neglected to get help sooner. He was alone, you are not.]
But Yu couldn't hear it. His fear drowned reason.
The sound of his muffled crying was what finally stirred Taichi awake. His eyes snapped open, instantly alert, and the sight of Yu flushed, trembling, and tear-streaked made his heart stop.
"Yu—!"
He slid to his side, pressing his hand to Yu's forehead. The heat nearly burned his palm.
"Damn it, you're burning up."
Yu whimpered, clutching at Taichi's shirt as though begging him not to vanish.
"I've got you."
Taichi whispered, his voice gentler than Yu had ever heard it. He helped Yu get comfortable, securing his shivering form with pillows and an extra blanket, brushing damp strands of hair from his face before bolting upright.
Within minutes, Taichi was sprinting down the street to the corner store, throwing money on the counter for fever medicine, sports drinks, and cool compresses. He texted the group chat on the way back, his thumbs rapid-fire.
Taichi: Yu's sick. Caught a fever last night. I'm staying home with Yu today.
Fumiko: 😱😨😨WHAT?! Poor Yu!!😭 Do you need anything??❤️🩹🩺
Sakura: 😷I'll bring soup after school.🍵
Haruka: I'll come by too, I've got plenty of spare knitted blankets. Don't worry. Just take care of her.
He didn't stop there—once home, Taichi called the school directly, his voice firm despite the tightness in his chest.
"My name's Taichi Arifukua. Yukio Hokohayashi and I will be absent today. He's sick, and I'll be taking care of him."
By the time he hung up, he was kneeling at Yu's bedside again, spooning medicine into his mouth with infinite patience, laying the cool cloth against his fevered skin, whispering soft reassurances until Yu's tears slowed.
"Just rest, Yu. I'll handle everything. I'm not going anywhere."
Yu's small hand clung to his wrist, trusting, fragile—and Taichi swore he'd never let it slip away.
---
But at school, their absence bred rumors. By lunch, whispers snaked through the halls
"They're both out? At the same time?"
"Don't you think it's weird?"
"I heard Arifukua keeps Yu-chan locked up."
"Maybe Yu-chan's sick because of him…"
Isuke Sasaki, ever the saint in the eyes of his classmates, stood amidst the sympathy and questions with a carefully curated smile.
He tilted his head just slightly, feigning mild concern.
"I only hope Yu is all right… and that Arifukua isn't putting Yu through more than they can handle."
The words were light. But in his eyes—sharp, calculating—lay the flicker of recognition.
'So, Arifukua's pulling strings with the teachers to skip classes now. He makes my mother vanish abroad. And now Yu's vanished too…'
His smile tightened into something colder.
'If I'm being forced away, I'll make sure Yu doesn't slip out of my grasp before I go.'
The gossip clung like humidity in the halls all day.
Snickers behind notebooks, wide-eyed speculation by the lockers.
"Yu-chan was fine just yesterday and now she hasn't been seen at all, seems too sudden…"
"And Arifukua too. Don't tell me they—"
"Of course they're absent together. He's probably keeping Yu-chan all to himself."
"Poor Yu-chan. She can't even say no."
Isuke Sasaki walked among them like a calm sea in the middle of a storm, smiles and nods at every whisper, offering carefully measured words of sympathy. The more he played the role of benevolent saint, the deeper the suspicions dug into Taichi's reputation.
But he didn't make his move. Not yet. No—Isuke's gaze narrowed with private intent.
The longer Yu is hidden away, the easier it will be to pry him back out into the light.
'By the time Arifukua returns, everyone will already be on my side.'
---
The knock on the door came soft, careful. Taichi had just finished adjusting Yu's blankets again when the voices filtered in.
"It's us, Taichi-san!"
Sakura called brightly.
"We brought reinforcements!"
Taichi cracked the door, and one by one, Haruka Minami, Souma Satou, Yamato Yamada, Fumiko Fujimori, and Sakura Sato bustled in, arms full of bags and containers.
Plastic clinked against plastic as Souma set down a grocery sack.
"Picked up some extra sports drinks and fruit. Good for hydration."
Haruka, ever the practical one, held out a thermos with a sheepish grin.
"Soup. I made it during club—it'll go down easy. I couldn't bring the blankets today, they're at home but tomorrow for sure! Count on it."
Sakura and Fumiko both spread notebooks across the table, stacked high with assignments and scribbled notes.
Yamato produced a pharmacy bag.
"Cough drops, fever patches, electrolyte jelly. Everything I could think of."
Taichi blinked, stunned for a moment by the sheer volume of their care. Then, quietly, he stepped aside.
"Thanks. Yu's… Yu's in bed. But keep it down—Yu's sleeping on and off."
The girls tiptoed in first, peeking at Yu curled beneath the blankets, his white hair damp against the pillow. His lashes were wet from earlier tears, his lips pale.
Fumiko's chest clenched.
"Poor thing…"
Sakura knelt at his side, whispering,
"Yu-chan? We're here. We brought snacks and soup. You don't have to eat now—just whenever you feel like it, okay?"
Yu's ruby-red eyes fluttered open at the familiar voices. For a heartbeat he looked dazed, confused. Then, recognizing them, his lips wobbled into the faintest smile.
"…You came…"
His voice was raw, weak.
Haruka placed a hand on his arm gently.
"Of course we did. You scared us half to death, dummy."
Laughter softened the room. The heavy, fever-thick air seemed to clear a little as they each settled into the apartment's cramped space—Fumiko bustling to heat soup, Sakura fussing with pillows, Yamato and Souma quietly tidying up.
For the first time that day, Yu didn't feel like the walls were closing in.
The apartment smelled faintly of broth now, warm and homely. Laughter drifted between clinking chopsticks and rustling bags as the group tried to make Yu's cramped little space feel less lonely.
Yu stirred beneath the blankets, pale and flushed. He blinked at the sight of everyone bustling around—Fumiko portioning soup into bowls, Haruka stacking medicine neatly on the counter, Yamato and Souma bickering softly as they set up a study spot.
His throat worked, and in a small, cracked voice he whispered.
"…I'm sorry."
The room stilled. Sakura leaned closer, brushing his damp hair from his forehead.
"Sorry? For what, silly?"
Yu's ruby eyes shimmered.
"For being… a burden. You all keep having to take care of me. And now Taichi's…"
His voice trailed, choked with guilt.
Before anyone else could speak, Taichi sat down on the edge of the bed and scooped Yu gently into his lap, as though lifting a fragile child. Yu sagged against his chest, arms sliding around his neck, clinging tight like a koala.
"You're not a burden."
Taichi said gruffly, his tone firm but his touch gentle as he tucked the blanket around Yu.
"You hear me, Yu? Not to me. Not to them. Not ever."
Yu pressed his hot face against Taichi's shoulder.
"…But I'm so weak…"
"Then I'll be strong for both of us."
Taichi's words came without hesitation.
The girls' eyes softened, and Fumiko nudged Sakura with a knowing grin. Quietly, they both raised their phones under the pretense of checking messages and began recording the tender sight: Taichi carefully holding a feverish Yu, spooning soup to his lips, patiently coaxing him to drink water in tiny sips.
Haruka smirked despite herself.
"Who knew the scary ex-gangster had such a househusband side?"
Souma chuckled.
"Honestly, I'm taking notes."
Yamato grinned wide.
"This is blackmail material if I've ever seen it."
But the teasing never felt sharp—it was soft, affectionate, born of relief that Yu was safe and cared for.
Yu, too weak to argue or blush, only nestled closer into Taichi's chest, letting himself be carried from the bed to the couch when he got restless, then back again when the fever weighed him down. He drifted between naps, waking to gentle voices, the smell of soup, and the warmth of Taichi's steady hands.
By the time the sun set, the apartment no longer felt like a lonely studio—it felt like the heart of their circle.
For the first time since Halloween, Yu believed it:
Maybe he wasn't trapped between monsters. Maybe he was surrounded by people who truly wanted to protect him.
---
The apartment was hushed after the others left, carrying their empty bowls and chatter with them. The door clicked softly shut, leaving only the muffled hum of the city outside and the faint whistle of the kettle Taichi had left on low.
Yu stirred on the bed, blinking awake from another fever-dazed nap. His arms immediately reached out, searching until his fingertips brushed Taichi's shirt. Only then did he let out a shaky breath, like a child reassured the night hadn't stolen his guardian away.
Taichi, who had been sitting cross-legged beside him scrolling halfheartedly through his phone, set it down at once. He leaned close, brushing damp bangs from Yu's flushed forehead.
"…Still burning up."
He muttered, more to himself than to Yu.
Yu's ruby eyes glistened in the dim lamplight.
"Taichi… you won't… leave, right?"
Taichi stilled, then eased down beside him so Yu could cling tighter, almost curling himself around Taichi's chest.
"Dummy. Of course not. Where else would I go?"
Yu's breath hitched, his cheek pressed against the beat of Taichi's heart.
"I'm scared… if I fall asleep, you'll be gone. That when I wake up, it'll be Isuke, or no one."
His voice wavered with the remnants of nightmare.
Taichi's jaw tightened, but his arms softened. He pulled the blanket higher around Yu's shoulders, his voice low and certain.
"I swear, it'll be me when you wake up. Always me."
For a long while, neither spoke. The only sound was the kettle whistling faintly, the creak of the blanket shifting as Yu adjusted, nestling deeper into Taichi's chest like it was the only safe place left in the world.
Finally, Yu whispered his greatest fear.
"Taichi?"
"Hm?"
"…If I'm a burden, you can say so. I won't be mad."
Taichi let out a short, disbelieving laugh and ruffled Yu's damp hair.
"You really don't get it, do you? You're the only reason I bother trying to be better. Without you… I'd still be the same bastard everyone thinks I am."
Yu smiled faintly, eyes heavy, heart clinging to the warmth of those words as much as to Taichi's body. Sleep tugged at him again, his breathing softening.
Taichi stayed awake long after, staring at the ceiling, listening to Yu's soft breaths and the city beyond. His hand rested on Yu's back, steady and protective.
Even in this fragile peace, he couldn't shake the gnawing thought:
Isuke wasn't done.
---
Morning bled quietly into afternoon. Yu had barely stirred since breakfast, curled under the blankets on the couch, hair spilling like silk across the pillow. Taichi checked his forehead again before heading into the kitchenette to pour water, careful not to wake him.
The knock startled him. Three firm raps, too deliberate to be one of the girls balancing snacks in her arms and too disciplined to be his rowdy friends. Taichi frowned, wiping his damp hands on his sweats as he crossed to the door.
When it swung open, his gut clenched.
"…You."
Isuke Sasaki stood there, crisp uniform perfect as ever, a paper bag in his hands. His usual mask of easy confidence cracked—the surprise in his blue eyes was real.
"…Arifukua?"
Isuke's voice dipped, caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation. His gaze flicked past Taichi, into the narrow apartment, and Taichi saw the calculation sharpen immediately behind his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Taichi's tone was flat, dangerous.
Isuke held up the bag, a polished smile sliding back into place.
"Homework. I heard Yu was sick. I thought I'd—"
"You thought wrong."
Taichi shifted, planting himself squarely in the doorway. He didn't raise his voice, but the low growl of it carried all the warning needed.
From the couch, a faint cough sounded—Yu, stirring in his half-sleep. The sound made Isuke's eyes flash to the source. Then he caught sight of the evidence:
Two school bags sat neatly by the door, a mix of worn sneakers and cute flats on the shoe rack, freshly folded skirts alongside sweats far too large for Yu's slim frame sat neatly by the dresser, a basketball nestled beside a basket of yarn and sewing material.
"It almost looks like…"
He murmured, more to himself than to Taichi.
"…You're living here."
Taichi's hand tightened on the doorframe.
"Leave."
Isuke tilted his head, the smile never reaching his eyes.
"Funny. Yu never mentioned that part. One might think you're… keeping him all to yourself."
"That's right."
Taichi shot back without hesitation, leaning in just enough to make it clear he'd slam the door in Isuke's face if he had to.
"And he wants it that way."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them, a quiet war of wills. Yu's faint shifting in the background was the only sound.
Finally, Isuke's smile sharpened into something thinner, colder. He set the bag of homework neatly on the floor, straightened his blazer, and stepped back.
"…Then I suppose I'll leave this here. Be sure Yu actually gets it."
The unspoken accusation hung heavy. He turned smoothly, walking down the hall with the ease of someone already plotting his next move.
Taichi shut the door harder than necessary, jaw clenched, pulse racing. He leaned against the wood for a second before pushing himself back to Yu's side, brushing the hair from his fever-warmed face.
Yu blinked up at him groggily, unaware of the storm that had nearly entered their sanctuary.
"…Was someone there?"
He mumbled.
"No one important."
Taichi lied, pulling the blanket higher around him.
"Go back to sleep."
But Taichi's eyes stayed fixed on the door, on the bag of homework sitting just beside it, as though it carried a curse.
---
A few days of medicine, rest, and Taichi's relentless care had worked miracles. By the time Monday rolled in, Yu's fever was gone and the fog in his head lifted, though his body still felt fragile, his steps careful.
But one thing hadn't gone away—the habit he'd picked up while sick.
As they left the apartment that morning, Yu's slender fingers slipped into Taichi's like it was the most natural thing in the world. He leaned close, shoulder brushing Taichi's arm, his long white hair catching the sunlight like a pale banner.
At first Taichi froze, struck dumb by how bold it was—Yu, the boy who used to flinch at his own shadow, was now clinging openly first thing in the morning. Heat crawled up his neck, and he had to bite down the urge to wrap his whole arm around Yu's delicate frame and keep him tucked against him all the way to school. Instead, he let Yu hold on, squeezing lightly, his restraint a fragile thread.
Yu looked up once, shyly.
"...Is this okay?"
Taichi's throat worked, but he managed a gruff,
"Yeah. More than okay."
The streets grew busier as they neared the gates, the chatter of students buzzing louder. Whispers rippled through the crowd almost immediately, eyes darting to the sight of the infamous delinquent and the delicate "girl" at his side, holding hands like a couple.
Yu stiffened. His grip faltered, instinct telling him to pull away, to shrink back into the safety of invisibility. But before he could, Taichi tightened his hold and tugged him closer, draping his hand over Yu's more possessively.
"Don't even think about it."
Taichi muttered, low enough for only Yu to hear.
Yu's face flushed crimson. His heart thudded against his ribs, but… he didn't let go. Instead, he leaned in a little more, comforted by Taichi's solid warmth. The whispers didn't vanish, but they blurred, drowned out by the steady rhythm of Taichi's stride and the squeeze of his hand.
For once, Yu felt like he didn't need to run.
And Taichi, seeing the faint smile ghost across Yu's lips, swore silently that he'd never let anyone pry him away again.