The library was unusually quiet that afternoon. Only the faint scratch of pens, the soft shuffle of papers, and the distant hum of an air conditioner filled the stillness. Dust motes drifted lazily in the golden shafts of sunlight slanting through the windows, making the place feel like a sealed world of its own—isolated from the chatter and noise outside.
Renjiro leaned his elbow against the table, rambling about clubs he had no interest in. Yugen sat before him, half-listening, half-distracted by how Renjiro's expressions changed with every sentence: his brows furrowing in thought, his lips quirking into a crooked grin. His eyes sparkling whenever he exaggerated something.
Yugen pressed his knuckles against his mouth to stop himself from smiling too much. It's just us two in here... alone.
Their shoulders brushed again, and Renjiro shifted slightly closer without a second thought, absorbed in his chatter. But for Yugen, every accidental touch sent his pulse racing. He prayed Renjiro wouldn't notice how stiffly he held himself, or how warm his cheeks had become.
When Renjiro suddenly leaned forward, their noses nearly touched. The boy's breath was warm against Yugen's skin.
[!!]
Yugen froze. His throat tightened, and for a terrifying second, he thought his heart had leapt into his mouth.
Renjiro raised an eyebrow. "Hey, are you listening?"
Yugen's lips parted, but words wouldn't come out. His gaze locked with Renjiro's, close enough to see the subtle flecks in his brown eyes, close enough to see himself reflected there. Something inside him slipped—his restraint and careful walls—until the word escaped before he could stop it.
"... Cute."
"Hm?" Renjiro blinked in confusion. "I'm cute now?"
Yugen's eyes widened, panic sparking in his chest. His mind scrambled, but he quickly masked it with a scoff. "I mean, that's cute—but I'd rather not be stuck in the same club as you. Don't twist it."
"Eh! Why not? I wanna know what club you joined."
"The archery club. Interested?"
"Ohhh... you started archery?"
Yugen sighed, leaning back, his shoulders loosened in relief. That was close... he thought to himself. If he hadn't masked his slip, if Renjiro had pressed further—he didn't want to imagine how badly it could have gone.
Renjiro's grin widened innocently, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as if nothing had happened at all.
If only you knew... then you wouldn't be smiling like that to me.
While Yugen's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression tightening. His eyes darkened, his chest twisting at the sight of that carefree smile. Right... if he did know the truth, then he might never smile like that ever again. That kind of stupid, radiant smile.
He clenched his hands under the table, nails digging into his palm, bottling everything inside him once again.
A beat of silence passed before Yugen exhaled slowly, forcing the air out of his lungs. His gaze softened, and he leaned back with a feigned ease, slipping back into the role Renjiro knew so well.
"Anyway," Yugen said suddenly, breaking the tension, "are you free this weekend?"
Renjiro blinked. "Why?"
Yugen tilted his head, the corner of his lips quirking faintly. "I'm going home. And my mother wants me to bring you along. She got... a little too excited when I told her you came back to Japan."
Renjiro's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Your mom?! She still remembers me?"
"Of course she does," Yugen muttered, dragging a hand across the back of his neck as if embarrassed. "She was practically squealing over the phone. Said she wanted to see you again."
He sighed and added. "Honestly... she likes you more than me—her actual son."
Renjiro puffed out his chest proudly, smirking. "Well, that's because I'm way more likeable."
Yugen rolled his eyes but couldn't fight back the faint chuckle that slipped through. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling that yourself."
As Renjiro continued to grin, boasting about how mothers everywhere naturally liked him, Yugen found himself watching quietly again. His smile softened into something more genuine.
"Alright then, I'll come," Renjiro said with a satisfied grin.
But as he leaned back in his chair, his smile faltered just a little. A faint thought tugged at the back of his mind. Wait... was I forgetting something?
His brows furrowed for a second, but then he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing. "Nah, it's fine," he muttered under his breath, brushing off the thought as if he hadn't promised a certain someone his time first.
Saturday morning arrived with a crisp freshness in the air, sunlight pouring through the dorm windows like a gentle spotlight on Renjiro's little dilemma. He stood in front of his closet, hands on his hips, lips pursed tightly.
A suit would be too formal... nah. I'd look like I'm about to get married or something.
He scratched his cheek. Casual's fine. Auntie won't care anyway. But... I still want to look good in front of them.
After pacing back and forth and tossing clothes onto his bed for nearly twenty minutes, Renjiro finally settled on a neat casual outfit: a light beige haori-style jacket layered over a plain white T-shirt, paired with dark slim-fit jeans and clean sneakers.
His sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, and a leather strap bracelet wrapped around his wrist—stylish but not overdone. A casual Japanese street look that struck just the right balance between comfort and presentable.
He glanced at the mirror, tugging the hem of his haori. "Alright. This'll do."
The hallways of the dorm were already lively. Suitcases rolled, doors slammed, voices carried with excitement as students prepared to head home. The air was buzzing—everyone had their own little spark of happiness written across their faces. Renjiro could practically feel the eagerness radiating from them, and for a moment, he shared in it.
But not all shared the same enthusiasm. He caught a glimpse of Ken and Sato lingering by the courtyard, clearly uninterested in the idea of going home. They were chatting close, shoulders brushing, laughter soft between them.
Renjiro smirked knowingly. Those two would rather spend time together than deal with their families... can't blame 'em, I guess.
Still, his mind snapped back to today's meeting. Standing in front of the academy gates, Renjiro shifted from foot to foot, lips twitching into a smile he couldn't contain. Excitement burst out of him, his hands clasping together as if praying.
I can't wait! I wonder how Auntie's doing. Ahh~ I really miss her homemade pudding...
His stomach even gave a small growl at the thought, and he rubbed it sheepishly.
"Ohh, just thinking about it makes me excited even more!" He whispered under his breath, grinning ear to ear.
"Yeah, me too."
The voice came casually from his side.
Renjiro froze, blinking rapidly before whipping his head to the right—only to find Haruyuki standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, leaning slightly as though he had been there the whole time.
[!!]
"You...!" Renjiro's voice cracked as he jolted upright.
"... What?" Haruyuki tilted his head, that faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"What are you doing here?!"
"What else? Waiting for our ride."
"Huh???"
"You're coming with me, remember?" Haruyuki said flatly. "Today's my photoshoot. Just hold on, the car's gonna be here any second now."
Renjiro blinked. His brain scrambled to catch up. Then his whole body stiffened. "What? Who's going with who?"
"You." Haruyuki's voice carried no hesitation, only certainty.
Renjiro's stomach dropped. The words echoed in his ears. Wait... oh crap... that memory came rushing back—the smug declaration Haruyuki had made about dragging him along to his photoshoot.
Haruyuki's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, his smirk slipping into suspicion. "Don't tell me..." His voice lowered into a whispered. "... you forgot about our plans?"
Renjiro instinctively stepped back, his guard shooting up. "Our plans? Correction—it was your plan. I never agreed to anything!" He crossed his arms tightly, glaring. "So, sorry, but I already have plans with someone else today."
"Someone else?" Haruyuki's brow lifted. The edge in his tone sent a chill down Renjiro's back. "Who?"
"And why should I tell you that?" Renjiro shot back, tilting his head smugly.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Haruyuki's smile faltered, a twitch I his eyes betraying his irritation. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me, huh?"
Renjiro smirked, lips curling proudly. "Exactly. So get lost already—"
But before he could finish, Haruyuki's arm shot forward. His hand clamped firmly around Renjiro's waist, yanking him forward until his chest collided against Haruyuki's.
"Wha—?! H-Hey!! What the hell are you doing, jerk?!"
"Sorry," Haruyuki muttered, his voice low against Renjiro's ear, "but you made plans with me first. So, you're coming with me. Whether you like it or not."
"Urghhhh...! Let me go!" Renjiro barked, thrashing as hard as he could, but Haruyuki's grip was like iron. No matter how much he twisted, pushed, or elbowed, it didn't budge.
What the heck—why is this guy so strong?! He doesn't even look muscular!! Renjiro's panic rose, sweat forming at his brow. Haruyuki's arms didn't look bulky, but every flex screamed restrained strength.
"Stop moving too much or I'll drop you."
"That's better! I'd rather be hit a truck than getting in with you inside the car.
He gritted his teeth, still fighting, but the moment a sleek white car pulled up at the curb, his eyes widened.
"Perfect timing." Haruyuki's smirk returned as he tightened his grip. With one effortless shove, he forced Renjiro toward the open car door and practically him inside.
Renjiro stumbled into the seat with a thud. "Damn it—!!"
The door slammed shut.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a towering building that seemed to scrape the sky itself. Its sleek, modern architecture glistened under the sunlight—every panel of its massive glass windows reflecting the clouds and the cityscape below like mirrors stitched together. The edges were sharp, clean, and polished, giving off an air of prestige and importance. At the very top, a bold silver emblem shone brightly, the mark of a well-known brand.
Renjiro stepped out of the car with a heavy pout still plastered on his face. His arms were crossed the whole ride, and the air around him practically screamed that he's mad. But the instant he tilted his head upward and his eyes took in the sheer height and brilliance of the building, his expression softened almost unconsciously. His lips parted slightly.
"Wow..." He whispered under his breath, the awe escaping him before he could stop it. His eyes sparkled like a child seeing fireworks for the first time. "Amazing."
Haruyuki, who had gotten out right after him, caught that exact look. His lips tugged into a smug grin, and he let out a low snicker.
Without hesitation, Haruyuki casually swung an arm around Renjiro's shoulder, pulling him closer as though they were walking together naturally.
"Like what you see?" He teased, voice smooth and playful. "C'mon. I can show you around. There's a lot more for you to see inside."
Renjiro turned his head toward him, unimpressed, his expression flat as a deadpan glare. "..."
Haruyuki only grinned wider, ignoring the clear disinterest.
"Don't give me that look," he leaned closer, his tone light but mischievous. " I know you're curious. I bet you're dying to know what's inside, right?"
Renjiro's lips twitched, and he let out a small, irritated sigh. Not really, he muttered inwardly, though he kept that thought to himself.
He knew one thing for sure: if he didn't agree, Haruyuki would cling to him like a shadow until he did. It was either walk willingly... or get dragged again.
"... Fine," Renjiro muttered reluctantly. His shoulders slumped in defeat, but there was still a faint flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
Satisfied, Haruyuki have his shoulder a little squeeze, smirking proudly as though he had just won a small victory.
"Good choice," he said smoothly.
Together, they proceeded through the wide glass doors, stepping into the cool, air-conditioned lobby that awaited them.
Haruyuki led Renjiro through a brisk tour of the building.
The first floor opened up to an expensive location lobby—it's marble floors gleamed like polished stone, the ceiling stretched high with chandeliers casting a golden glow, and the constant hum of voices echoed as people in sharp suits passed briskly by.
"This is the lobby," Haruyuki said casually, as if it were the most mundane place in the world.
The second d floor housed rows of glass-paneled offices. From the elevator, Renjiro caught sight of people hunched over their desks, typing furiously, phones glued to their ears, piles of documents stacked like towers beside them. The buzz of efficiency rang even though the closed doors.
"Employees. Management. The boring stuff," Haruyuki quipped, waving his hand dismissively.
By the fifth floor, the atmosphere changed drastically. Renjiro's eyes widened when the elevator doors slid open to reveal an entire studio—bright floodlights dangling from rigs, cameras rolling, actors rehearsing lines, and assistants bustling around with clipboards. A drama shoot underway. Renjiro watched for a brief second, impressed, but Haruyuki only smirked.
"Too noisy here," he muttered before pressing the button again.
Finally, the elevator stopped with a soft ding sound at the eighth floor.
The moment the doors parted, chaos awaited. A wave of people immediately descended on Haruyuki.
"Haruyuki-san, this way, please!"
"We've been waiting for you."
"Makeup team, hurry—!"
In an instant, Renjiro was swept aside like debris caught in a current. He stumbled a little, blinking as a crowd of stylists and assistants swarmed Haruyuki.
Their voices overlapped, brushes already touching his face, powders dusting his skin, while another person held up jackets and shirts against his chest, murmuring quickly about colors and sizes.
Renjiro, half-pushed against the wall, stood there quietly, watching.
For the first time since entering the building, he truly noticed—everyone here knows him. The way they looked at Haruyuki wasn't casual, it was professional, sharp, even admiring. They all moved around him like satellites orbiting a star.
Renjiro's pouty annoyance faded as something clicked in his mind.
So this was the entertainment industry... a place where one person was treated like the center of a whole system.
He hugged his arms, realizing how out of place he must look, just standing there in his casual clothes while Haruyuki was polished and refined before his eyes.