tutoring session

The first-year classrooms of Nakameguro High crowded with restless energy. Laughter echoed off the walls, sneakers squeaked on polished wooden floors. Among the students sprawled across desks or chatting in circles, Sato Taiki stood out like sunlight. His smile, wide and almost blinding in its sincerity, caught people easily. It was no wonder that in just a few months of being a first-year, his name had already spread not only through his year but across the school.

Taiki wasn’t just a good-looking boy with a cheerful personality. He was also a dancer, a very good one. At the spring cultural competition, his solo freestyle routine had carried the dance club to victory, his body moving like music itself was stitched into his bones. Teachers praised his energy, students cheered him on, and his friends often teased him about how his smile had probably melted half the upperclassmen girls already.

But none of that glittering charm helped him when it came to textbooks.

On this particular day, Taiki sat slouched over his math workbook, tapping his pencil against the desk. He frowned, his lips pursing.

“Taiki-kun, don’t glare at the formula,” Yusei leaned over from the desk beside him, his dyed-brown hair catching the afternoon light.

Taiki groaned, dramatically dropping his head onto his open book. “Why do they put letters inside math? That’s just… illegal. Math should be numbers, not this weird alphabet soup.”

Keito, who was sitting behind them and flipping through a neatly kept English textbook, chuckled under his breath. “It’s algebra, Taiki-kun. Not alphabet soup. If you don’t study, you’re going to get into serious trouble. I heard the teachers are already worried.”

“I know…” Taiki mumbled, lifting his head just enough to reveal the crease of worry between his brows. “But no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t go in. It’s like the teacher’s voice just… slides right out of my ears.”

“Like your head is hollow?” Yusei smirked, dodging quickly when Taiki half-heartedly tried to smack him with his pencil case.

The truth was more serious than their playful banter. Taiki’s grades had been dipping lower and lower, and rumors of him possibly being put on probation or even expelled, had begun circulating among the teachers. The thought of leaving the school, his friends, and especially the dance club clawed at his chest. Dance was his everything, his lifeline, and the only place where his heart beat with certainty. He couldn’t lose it.

That heaviness followed him out of the classroom later that day, his sneakers dragging as he walked down the quiet corridor toward the clubroom. He wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going, his mind tangled in equations he couldn’t solve and lectures he couldn’t grasp, when suddenly—

Thud.

He bumped into someone at the corner of the hallway. His books tumbled out of his hands, scattering across the floor.

“Watch where you’re going,” a sharp voice cut through the air.

Taiki blinked up, and his eyes landed on a figure so different from himself it was almost jarring. Standing stiffly, arms crossed over his chest, was Yamamoto Sekai—a third-year known around school for being… well, a nerd. His uniform was immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight. His dark bobbed hair framed a face half-hidden behind square glasses, and dangling from his bag strap was a keychain of a wide-eyed anime character Taiki vaguely recognized but couldn’t name. A stack of thick textbooks rested neatly in Sekai’s arms.

“Ah—sorry!” Taiki scrambled to pick up his fallen notebooks, flustered. “I wasn’t looking.”

Sekai’s gaze was cold, sharp behind his lenses. “Obviously. Your brain was probably too busy trying to solve two plus two.”

Taiki froze, his mouth falling open. “H-Hey! That’s rude!”

“I’m only stating the truth,” Sekai replied flatly, crouching to pick up one of Taiki’s crumpled worksheets. He glanced at it, and his eyebrow twitched upward. “You don’t even know how to factorize? This is first-year material. Pathetic.”

Heat rushed to Taiki’s cheeks, half embarrassment and half indignation. “Who even are you to say that?! You think you’re so smart just because you look like a walking library?”

“I am smart,” Sekai said simply, tucking the paper back into Taiki’s pile with annoyingly precise care. “Unlike some people, I don’t waste my time flailing around on stage instead of studying.”

That jab struck deeper than Taiki expected. He clenched his jaw, ready to snap back, but Sekai had already turned on his heel, adjusting his glasses with a flick of his finger. His back was straight, his steps clipped, and the faint sway of that anime keychain mocked Taiki from afar.

Taiki stood in the middle of the hallway, clutching his books to his chest, his heart pounding with frustration. Who was that guy? And why did his words sting so much?

The next day, Taiki found himself called to the teacher office after class. His stomach twisted nervously as he pushed open the sliding door, bowing politely. At a desk near the window sat one of the stricter teachers, Akira-sensei, who taught mathematics. His expression was serious as he gestured for Taiki to come closer.

But Taiki’s attention was immediately snared by the person sitting beside the teacher. Sekai.

Neat as ever, glasses gleaming in the light, his face completely expressionless as if carved from stone. He didn’t even look at Taiki, his gaze fixed on the desk.

“Taiki-kun,” Akira-sensei began, folding his hands together. “Your grades have become a matter of concern. If you don’t improve quickly, you will not only risk being suspended from the dance club but also face possible expulsion.”

Taiki’s heart sank. “Sensei, I—”

AKira-sensei raised a hand to silence him. “Which is why I’ve arranged something for you. From today, you will receive tutoring. And your tutor will be Yamamoto-kun here.”

Taiki’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He glanced at Sekai, who still hadn’t looked at him. “Wha—what?! Him?!”

“Quiet,” the teacher said firmly. “Yamamoto-kun is the top student in the third year. He volunteered to help.”

“Volunteered?!” Taiki blurted out, incredulous. “That can’t be right. There’s no way he would—”

“Taiki-kun.” Akira-sensei’s voice was sharp, cutting off his protest. “You will do this if you want to stay at this school. Understood?”

Taiki shut his mouth, cheeks puffing in protest, and gave a stiff nod. His eyes darted toward Sekai, searching for some hint of emotion. But Sekai’s face remained unreadable, his posture composed.

After being dismissed, the two of them stepped out into the hallway together. The silence stretched thick between them until Taiki finally exploded.

“Why didn’t you say anything in there?! ‘Volunteered’? Seriously? You don’t even like me!”

Sekai adjusted his glasses with a sigh. “Whether I like you or not is irrelevant. You’re hopeless academically, and apparently, no one else is capable of saving you from yourself. So yes, I volunteered. Not because I want to, but because I can.”

Taiki sputtered, his fists tightening at his sides. “You’re so full of yourself!”

“And you’re full of air.” Sekai’s tone was cutting, but his eyes softened just a fraction as they flicked to Taiki. “We start tomorrow in the school library after school. Don’t be late.”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode off down the corridor, his shoes clicking neatly against the floor.

Taiki stood rooted in place, his chest heaving with a mix of irritation and confusion. Sekai was insufferable—cold, sharp-tongued, smug, but underneath it all, there was something else. Something that didn’t quite match his words. Taiki exhaled hard, his cheeks puffing, and kicked lightly at the floor as he walked away alone, muttering under his breath.

Why did Sekai have to be both irritating and… kind?

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

The library was usually Sekai’s haven. Here, he could drown himself in equations or disappear into the colorful spines of manga hidden behind his thick textbooks. It was a sanctuary that shielded him from the chaos of noisy students.

But today, his sanctuary had been invaded.

Taiki sat across from him, hunched over the table, pencil twirling loosely between his fingers, his uniform tie slightly loosened, shirt untucked at the side. His usual smile was missing, replaced by a pout that pushed his cheeks out adorably, though Sekai would rather swallow glass than admit such a thing.

“Alright,” Sekai said crisply, sliding a worksheet across the table toward him. “Let’s establish just how much of a disaster you are. Solve this.”

Taiki peered at the paper. His brows knitted, lips moving as if he were whispering to himself. After several long seconds, he scribbled down an answer and slid it back.

Sekai looked at it. Then at Taiki. Then back at the paper.

“This…” Sekai tapped his pencil against the page, his tone already dropping several degrees colder. “This isn’t just wrong. This is so wrong it could be used as an example of what not to do in a textbook.”

Taiki bristled, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, at least I tried!”

“You call this trying?” Sekai’s voice sharpened, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he leaned forward. “This school is supposed to be prestigious. How the hell did you even manage to get in?”

Taiki’s cheeks flushed, his pride prickling. “I got in because of my dancing, okay?! I worked hard, competed, won, and that’s why I’m here! Not because of stupid numbers!”

Sekai’s lips pressed into a thin line. His sharp eyes softened for just a second, but then he scoffed, hiding it behind his usual coldness. “Figures. This place values trophies more than brains.”

Taiki slammed his palms against the table, making a few nearby students jump and glare at them. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I don’t deserve to be here?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sekai snapped back. “But if you want to stay here, you need to actually learn, not just flail around like you’re on stage!”

Their voices rose higher and higher, bouncing against the library walls.

“Shut up!” Taiki shot back. “You don’t understand! I’ve been trying, but nothing sticks!”

“That’s because you’re not trying properly!” Sekai countered, his hand gripping his pencil so tightly it almost snapped.

The tension thickened until an annoyed cough cut through the air. Both boys turned to see the librarian glaring down at them, her finger pressed firmly against her lips.

“Yamamoto-kun,” she said, her tone as sharp as her gaze. “If you want to come here to study alone, that’s fine. But if you bring him again—” her eyes flicked to Taiki, whose mouth was already half-open in protest, “don’t bother setting foot in here. This is a library, not a marketplace.”

Sekai sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Understood, sensei.”

Taiki glared, cheeks puffed out in indignation, but bit his tongue as the librarian walked away. For a moment, silence hovered between them. Sekai finally stood, gathering his books with practiced efficiency.

“We’re not doing this here anymore,” he muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re too loud.”

Taiki shot up as well, pointing accusingly. “Me? You were yelling too!”

Sekai adjusted his glasses with a sharp flick. “Rooftop. Tomorrow. After school. At least there, no one will complain about your inability to control your volume.”

Taiki huffed, shoving his things into his bag. “Fine! But don’t act like you’re not the loud one.”

“Don’t be late,” Sekai replied coolly before walking off, leaving Taiki glaring at his retreating back.

The next day, the rooftop became their new battlefield. The wind was stronger up there, carrying the faint scent of sakura petals from the trees in the courtyard below. The chain-link fence rattled softly, and the city stretched endlessly in the distance.

Sekai laid out his materials neatly, his handwriting elegant even in the rough draft of his notes. Taiki sat cross-legged beside him, fidgeting as the sunlight caught in his hair, making it glow.

“Here,” Sekai said, handing him a problem. “Try this.”

Taiki scribbled, hesitated, scribbled again, then finally looked up sheepishly. “Uhh… C?”

“C? This isn’t even multiple choice!” Sekai’s voice cracked in exasperation, and Taiki burst into laughter.

“See? You’re the loud one!” Taiki grinned, pointing at him.

Sekai glared, his cheeks faintly pink from both the wind and irritation. “You’re insufferable.”

But despite the arguing, despite the sighs and groans, they kept meeting—three times a week.

Somewhere between insults and scoldings, they exchanged contact info.

Somewhere between scribbled notes and rooftop sunsets, the tension slowly softened.

It wasn’t that they stopped arguing—they still did, often, and loudly, but the edges grew duller. Taiki began listening more, and Sekai, without admitting it, adjusted his methods. He spoke less in terms of abstract formulas and more in practical examples, explaining concepts aloud rather than letting Taiki drown in pages of numbers. Taiki, in turn, slowly stopped seeing Sekai as just a nerd with a sharp tongue, but as someone who actually cared.

Weeks passed. The rooftop became their place.

And then came the day it happened.

“Alright,” Sekai said, pushing another worksheet across the blanket they had started bringing to soften the cold concrete. “This one should be review. Try it.”

Taiki bent over the page, lips moving, pencil scratching. His brow furrowed, his tongue poking slightly from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, and finally he gasped.

“I… I got it!” His eyes widened, shining. He shoved the paper at Sekai, bouncing in place.

Sekai scanned it, his usual stern mask in place. Slowly, he nodded. “Correct.”

For a heartbeat, silence hung in the air. Then Taiki lunged forward without thinking, wrapping his arms around Sekai’s neck in a tight hug.

“YES! I did it! I finally did it!” Taiki laughed, his voice bubbling with pure joy.

Sekai froze, his body stiff as a board, eyes wide behind his glasses. He hadn’t been hugged like this in… he couldn’t even remember. Taiki’s warmth seeped through his shirt, the scent of sweat and perfume filling his senses. Hesitantly, almost shyly, his arms rose and circled Taiki’s back. He patted once, awkward, then again, his palm lingering as it rubbed slow, gentle circles between Taiki’s shoulder blades.

The moment stretched, tender and unguarded.

Then Taiki blinked, realization crashing down on him. He jerked back, his face flaming red. “S-sorry! I—I didn’t mean— I just got too excited!”

Sekai adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, softly: “It’s okay.”

Taiki’s heart pounded so loudly he thought Sekai might hear it. He kept sneaking glances as they returned to studying—the curve of Sekai’s jaw, the way his hair swayed slightly in the wind, the line of his shoulders as he leaned over the notes. Every time Sekai’s eyes flicked up, Taiki quickly looked away, his ears burning.

It was during one of those sessions that Sekai finally noticed something. He had shifted his teaching style more and more toward verbal explanations, breaking down problems step by step in plain simple language. And Taiki, who had always failed miserably when staring at silent numbers on a page, suddenly bloomed under this approach.

“You’re not stupid,” Sekai murmured one evening as the sky glowed orange behind them.

Taiki blinked up, startled. “Huh?”

“You just learn differently,” Sekai continued, his voice low, thoughtful. “The teachers here… they explain things one way. But that way doesn’t work for you. You need someone to talk you through it, to let you think aloud. That’s why you struggled. Not because you’re stupid.”

Taiki’s throat tightened, eyes stinging. He laughed weakly, brushing at them with the back of his hand. “I… I thought I was getting dumber. After graduating from junior high, I thought I couldn’t keep up anymore.”

Sekai’s lips curved just slightly, but enough to soften the sharpness of his face. A smile. Genuine.

“You’re not broken, Taiki. You’re just… you.”

Taiki’s breath caught. His heart raced, pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of his chest. Sekai’s smile, rare, fleeting, but warm, was more dazzling than any spotlight he had ever danced under.

His cheeks burned crimson, his fingers twisting nervously in his lap as he looked away, mumbling, “Y-you’re exaggerating…”

Sekai tilted his head, studying him quietly. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

Taiki’s whole body felt like it was glowing, his pulse drumming fast and wild. He dared one glance back at Sekai, only to quickly avert his eyes again, heat crawling up his neck.

The rooftop wind swirled around them, carrying the faint laughter of distant students, but for Taiki, the world had narrowed to the boy beside him. The boy who was supposed to be just his tutor, but whose presence made his chest feel unbearably full.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

One morning, test papers were passed out one by one in Taiki's class. The sound nervous sighs and the occasional squeak of a chair filled the air. The math teacher, Akira-sensei, looked more weary than usual, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he set the remaining stack of test results on the podium.

Taiki sat at his desk, bouncing his leg under the table. His palms were clammy, his pencil tapping nervously against the table. He didn’t expect miracles, but after weeks—no, months of being dragged through problem sets by Sekai-senpai, of arguing and pouting and finally beginning to understand, a part of him desperately wanted proof that it had all been worth it.

When the paper finally slid onto his desk, his eyes flew to the top right corner.

65/100.

For a moment, his heart stopped. Then, like a firework, joy exploded in his chest.

“YES!!!” he shouted, leaping up from his chair so suddenly that the whole class jumped.

Heads turned, gasps and laughter rippled through the room, and Akira-sensei clutched his chest as if he’d just been startled out of years of his life. “Sato-kun!” the teacher barked, though his voice cracked with something suspiciously close to relief. “Sit down! This is a classroom, not a stadium!”

But Taiki couldn’t stop himself. He waved his test paper like a victory flag, his grin brighter than the sun. “Look! Sixty-five! I got sixty-five! I’ve never even passed fifty before!”

Yusei, seated a row behind, leaned forward with a rare smile tugging at his lips. “Taiki-kun… that’s amazing. You actually improved a lot.”

Kimura Keito, who shared the desk beside him, slapped his shoulder with a loud laugh. “Whoa! Only three months of tutoring and you jumped up that much? Yamamoto-senpai must be some kind of genius.”

Taiki clutched his paper to his chest, his eyes dreamy, his voice softer now. “Yeah… he really is amazing. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without him…” His gaze went unfocused, drifting as if he could see Sekai’s stern face, his glasses slipping down his nose, the quiet way he’d say 'well done, Taiki' without ever raising his voice. The corners of Taiki’s lips curved in a tender, longing smile.

Keito blinked, then exchanged a glance with Yusei. Something about Taiki’s expression was… different.

Yusei, ever the calm observer, tilted his head. “Taiki-kun. Do you… maybe… have a crush on him?”

The words hit like a slap. Taiki’s whole body jolted, and his face turned a shade of scarlet. “W-What?! No! Absolutely not! It’s not like that!”

Keito smirked knowingly, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re blushing, Taiki-kun. That’s a pretty big tell.”

“I-I’m not! I just—It’s hot in here, okay?!” Taiki fanned himself dramatically, though his ears glowed red, betraying him completely.

Yusei chuckled quietly. “You should see your face right now.”

Keito leaned closer with a teasing grin. “Our Taiki-kun is in love with the scary, nerd senpai. How cute.”

“Shut up!” Taiki groaned, burying his face in his test paper. “It’s not like that, I swear!”

The bell rang soon after, saving him from further interrogation. But even as he escaped to the cafeteria, his friends’ teasing clung to him like static.

At lunch, he found himself fiddling with his phone, his tray barely touched. After a moment of hesitation, he opened his messages and typed quickly.

Sato Taiki: Sekai-senpai! I got 65 on my math test today!! It’s the highest I’ve ever gotten since starting high school!

He hovered over the send button, his heart pounding, then pressed it. The reply came faster than he expected.

Yamamoto Sekai: Only 65? That’s still failing. Should I be disappointed?

Taiki puffed his cheeks, jabbing furiously at the screen.

Sato Taiki: Hey!! Don’t say that! You don’t get it, this is a HUGE improvement for me!!

Yamamoto Sekai: …Fine. Congratulations, you’ve graduated from being hopeless to being barely acceptable.

Sato Taiki: You’re so mean!! >:(

Yamamoto Sekai: Mean? I call it honest. But… well done, Taiki.

The last words made Taiki’s stomach flip, warmth spreading in his chest. He reread them once, twice, then a third time, a stupid smile curling across his lips.

Keito, sitting across the table, nearly choked on his rice. “Oi, look at his face! He’s grinning at his phone like it just proposed to him!”

Yusei’s eyes narrowed, amused. “Yamamoto-senpai?”

“N-No! Just… just a funny meme!” Taiki yelped, shoving his phone face down on the table.

Keito snorted. “Sure, sure. We believe you.”

Taiki groaned, hiding his burning face in his hands while his friends laughed.

The week rolled on, and their next tutoring session arrived. That afternoon, the rooftop sky darkened with heavy clouds, and thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. They had barely begun spreading their books when the first fat drops fell.

“Ah—crap!” Taiki scrambled to gather the notes, but the rain came suddenly, pouring down like buckets overturned from the heavens. Wind whipped their papers across the rooftop.

“Get inside!” Sekai barked, already scooping up armfuls of textbooks. He shoved them through the open door into the stairwell, shielding them with his own body from the downpour.

“But—”

“Now!” His sharp voice cut through the rain, and Taiki obeyed, darting inside while Sekai remained outside a moment longer to hurl the last of their supplies to safety.

When Sekai finally stepped into the stairwell, he was drenched head to toe. Water dripped from his hair, strands plastered to his cheeks, his uniform clinging to his frame. His glasses were fogged and useless, and with a soft sigh, he pulled them off, wiping them half-heartedly with his soaked sleeve before giving up entirely.

Taiki froze, staring. Without the glasses, without the rigid neatness of his usual appearance, Sekai looked… different. His sharp features softened, his dark eyes unshielded, his wet hair framing his face in messy strands. Handsome wasn’t even enough—he was striking.

Taiki’s face flamed, his throat dry.

Sekai noticed, tilting his head. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“N-Nothing!” Taiki squeaked, whipping his gaze away. “I-I was just… uh… thinking if you have spare clothes!”

Sekai raised a brow, unimpressed. “No.”

“But you’ll catch a cold!” Taiki insisted, stepping closer, his voice tinged with worry. “You’re completely soaked!”

Sekai gave a small shrug, wringing water from his sleeve. “Then I should probably go home. But…” His eyes flicked to the pile of books. “I don’t want to miss teaching you today.”

Taiki’s breath hitched. His cheeks burned, but his heart soared at the quiet sincerity in those words. Sekai, that grumpy, sharp-tongued, untouchable senpai actually cared.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the drip of water from Sekai’s hair onto the floor. Then Sekai cleared his throat, awkwardly.

“…What if we do the tutoring at my place?”

Taiki blinked. His brain froze.

Sekai’s eyes widened as the implication hit him, and he flailed, words tumbling out in a rush. “N-no! I didn’t mean it like that! Don’t misunderstand! I just— I live alone, so no one will bother us, and it’s quiet, and you don’t have to—if you don’t want to, it’s fine, we can—”

“Okay!” Taiki blurted, cutting him off. His voice was too loud in the empty hallway, his face scarlet. “We’ll go to your house. Now. I’m worried you’ll really catch a cold if you stay like this. S-so grab your umbrella already!”

Sekai blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the force of Taiki’s outburst.

Before Sekai could say anything, Taiki spun around, picking up the books, marching toward the exit with hurried steps, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. He kept his back straight, his pace quick, praying Sekai wouldn’t see how flustered he was.

Behind him, Sekai adjusted his dripping hair with a faint sigh, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “That boy…”

Together, they left the school, the rain hammering against their umbrellas as they made their way to Sekai’s house.

The rain had finally stopped by the time Sekai and Taiki reached Sekai’s house. The streets were damp, the air fresh with earthy scent, and Taiki couldn’t stop staring at Sekai’s back as they walked side by side under the umbrella. His senpai’s uniform clung tightly to him from earlier, though now covered by a thin jacket, his damp bobbed hair brushing the nape of his neck. Taiki’s chest was still beating wildly—not from the running, not from the rain, but from the simple fact that he was about to step into Sekai’s home.

Sekai fiddled with his keys briefly before unlocking the door with a low sigh, pushing it open with his shoulder. The house was quiet, modest, and a little dim until Sekai flicked the lights on. Taiki followed him inside timidly, wiping his shoes carefully at the entrance.

“Sorry for the mess,” Sekai muttered casually, his tone flat, pulling off his damp jacket and hanging it by the door. “I didn’t expect… company.”

Taiki shook his head quickly, smiling despite the butterflies in his stomach. “It’s not messy at all, Senpai.” He glanced around curiously as he stepped into the living space. It was actually neat. The room felt strangely empty, lacking the warmth of a typical family home. No framed pictures on the walls, no smiling faces in albums on shelves, no photos of holidays or birthdays. Only the faint smell of laundry detergent and the presence of Sekai’s orderly lifestyle.

Taiki lowered himself onto the couch, his eyes wandering. It feels kind of lonely here… he thought, pressing his lips together. He wondered if Sekai really lived alone, if he always ate meals in silence, if the reason for his bluntness was buried somewhere in this quiet, photo-less room. The thought of wanting to know more made Taiki blush fiercely. He pressed his palm against his cheek and looked away, scolding himself internally. What am I thinking? Why do I even care so much?

Sekai’s voice broke the silence. “Wait here. I’ll go change.”

Before Taiki could reply, Sekai disappeared down the hallway. A moment later, the sound of water running in the bathroom reached Taiki’s ears, making his heart skip. He imagined Sekai under the spray, hair plastered against his pale skin, steam curling around his figure. Taiki squeezed his fists and groaned inwardly, burying his burning face in his hands. “What the hell, Taiki, don’t think about that!” he whispered to himself, though his mind betrayed him with vivid imagery.

When Sekai returned, Taiki nearly forgot how to breathe. His senpai’s hair was damp, darker from the shower, sticking in soft strands around his face. He wore a simple shirt, the collar a little loose around his collarbones, and a pair of sweatpants that hung casually low on his hips. He carried a towel, rubbing his hair with an absentminded ease as he padded barefoot into the living room.

Sekai plopped down beside Taiki on the couch, the faint smell of soap and shampoo clinging to him. “What are you staring at?” he asked dryly, catching the younger boy’s gaze lingering too long.

“N-nothing!” Taiki flinched, looking away so fast his neck nearly cracked. His ears were scarlet, his hands fidgeting on his lap.

Sekai gave a faint huff of amusement, continuing to dry his hair. “Weird little boy.”

The casual way Sekai said it only made Taiki’s heart thump harder. They sat in silence for a while until Sekai turned his head, noticing the faint dampness clinging to the back of Taiki’s uniform. He frowned, narrowing his eyes.

“Your back’s wet.”

Taiki blinked, startled. “Eh? Oh… I guess the rain got me a little.”

“A little?” Sekai scoffed, reaching out as if to poke Taiki’s shoulder but stopping just short. “You’ll catch a cold like that. Go take a shower. Or at least change your clothes.”

Taiki waved his hands quickly, shaking his head. “No, no, I’m fine! Really, Senpai, don’t worry about it—”

“I am worrying about it,” Sekai cut him off firmly, the sharpness of his voice softened only by the faint crease of concern on his brow. “If you don’t want to shower, then at least change. I’ll lend you something.”

The earnestness in Sekai’s tone made Taiki’s chest squeeze. He hesitated before nodding sheepishly. “…Okay.”

Sekai stood, his movements precise, and disappeared briefly into his room. He returned holding folded clothes—a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Without another word, he gestured down the hallway. “Bathroom is inside my bedroom.”

Taiki swallowed nervously, clutching the bundle. “Th-thank you, Senpai…” His cheeks burned all the way to his ears as he hurried off.

Inside the bathroom, steam still lingered faintly from Sekai’s shower. Taiki placed the clothes on the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror with wide eyes. His heart was hammering against his ribs. What the hell am I doing here? What am I even… thinking? He pressed his palms to his cheeks, trying to cool the heat radiating off them, before quickly stripping and showering under the warm spray.

When he finally emerged, hair damp and cheeks pink, he was wearing Sekai’s shirt and sweatpants. The fabric smelled faintly of detergent and Sekai himself, clean and comforting. The shirt hung loosely on his frame, sleeves brushing past his wrists, and he tugged at the hem self-consciously as he stepped out of the bathroom.

The bathroom was directly connected to Sekai’s bedroom, and Taiki’s eyes now calmly observed it. The room was… ordinary, surprisingly so. Shelves stacked with manga and light novels, anime posters pinned neatly to the walls, a row of figurines displayed on a cabinet. It was so Sekai that Taiki found himself smiling without meaning to.

But then, something caught his eye.

On the top shelf, half-hidden behind stacks of books, gleamed a metallic reflection. He stepped closer, curiosity tugging him in. His eyes widened when he saw them—trophies. Not just one, but several, shining despite their attempt at being tucked away. Academic awards. Certificates in sleek frames.

Dance competitions.

Taiki’s chest tightened painfully. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over the nameplate of one. “Sekai-senpai… you…” His voice cracked, but he was too stunned to stop. Why does he hide all of these? Why doesn’t he show anyone?

His heart ached in ways he couldn’t put into words, and in that moment, Taiki realized—he didn’t just want to learn from Sekai. He wanted to understand him, to see through every wall, every mask, until he knew the person behind those sharp words and glasses completely.

And the thought alone was enough to make his face burn as he stood there, trembling slightly, lost in the quiet storm of his emotions.

The living room was quiet when Taiki returned. Sekai was already sitting at the low table, back on the lower couch, glasses back on his face though the lenses still caught traces of moisture. Books and papers were spread out in careful order, each one aligned.

“Sit down,” Sekai said without looking up, his voice its usual sharp, controlled tone. He tapped a pencil lightly against the open workbook in front of him. “We’ll begin from where we left off few days ago.”

Taiki lingered at the edge of the couch, his hands tightening around the hem of the borrowed shirt he wore. His lips pressed together, and he stayed standing, eyes lowered.

Sekai glanced up finally, his brows furrowing at the silence. “What’s wrong with you? Sit. Or do you plan on standing there all evening?”

Taiki swallowed hard, forcing his voice past the lump in his throat. “...Why didn’t you tell me that you also danced?”

The words seemed to freeze the air between them. Sekai’s pencil paused mid-tap. His gaze sharpened slightly, and for a moment, Taiki regretted asking. But then, very faintly, a flicker of surprise passed over Sekai’s eyes before he leaned back slightly.

“You saw the trophies,” he muttered more than asked, his tone flat but not dismissive.

Taiki didn’t answer. He simply nodded once, his expression open, almost pained with curiosity. He wanted to hear it from Sekai himself.

Sekai sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though debating whether or not to speak. Finally, he closed the book in front of him.

“Yes. I was a dancer back in my hometown in Kanagawa. A… prodigy, apparently, if you believed the judges back then.” He spoke with a strange detachment, as though narrating someone else’s life. “From the age of two until I was twelve, I danced. Ballet, jazz, hip-hop—competitions, recitals, showcases. I won a lot. That’s all those trophies are.”

Taiki’s throat tightened. He could hear the weight buried beneath the calm of Sekai’s face. He then slowly sat beside him.

Sekai went quiet for a long moment. His hand lifted almost unconsciously to his face, fingers pressing against one eye as though warding off a memory. His voice, when it returned, was softer.

“The reason I danced wasn’t because I liked it that much at first. I danced because… my mom looked happy when I did. Every time I stepped on stage, she smiled. Every time I practiced until my feet hurt, she would bring me juice, pat my head, and say I was amazing. I kept going because her happiness was tied to it.”

Taiki’s eyes grew hot. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, listening as Sekai’s tone cracked ever so slightly.

“And then… one day, when I was twelve, she died.” His words dropped like stones, heavy and merciless. “Car accident. Just like that, she was gone. The person I danced for disappeared. And suddenly every movement, every rhythm, all felt pointless. So I stopped. I never danced again.”

The pencil rolled off the table as Sekai’s hand fell, his gaze fixed somewhere distant. His lips pressed thin, his expression blank, yet Taiki could feel the storm beneath it.

“My dad?” Sekai added in the same detached tone. “He was long gone by then. Divorced when I was small. He still sends money enough for tuition, food, whatever. But he doesn’t care. Not really.”

The silence afterward was suffocating. Taiki turned his head slowly, his chest aching as he looked at Sekai’s still profile. His glasses reflected the dim light, hiding his eyes, but the blankness of his expression was louder than any tears could have been.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sekai-senpai,” Taiki whispered, his voice trembling despite his effort to steady it.

Sekai sighed quietly, a small huff of air. “No, it’s okay. I should’ve told you sooner that I also danced.”

Taiki shook his head quickly, his hands clutching his knees. “No, no. you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have forced you like this.”

Sekai tilted his head, and before Taiki could say more, he leaned closer. The shift was subtle at first, then undeniable as Sekai’s head rested gently against Taiki’s shoulder. Taiki stiffened, his breath caught, but Sekai’s voice came low, almost weary. “No, it’s okay. But lend me your shoulder for a bit. You made me feel… melancholy.”

For a moment Taiki didn’t know what to do. His body felt hot, his pulse quickening, but then a nervous laugh escaped him, soft and tender. “...Okay,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly so Sekai could lean more comfortably.

Sekai’s hair, still damp and messy from the shower, brushed against Taiki’s neck, the scent of shampoo lingering between them. The warmth of Sekai’s weight against his shoulder was unfamiliar but soothing, and Taiki found himself smiling faintly despite the ache in his chest. They stayed like that, silent but not uncomfortable.

Minutes stretched on. Taiki could hear Sekai’s breathing slow, steady, as though the act of leaning on him was a rare relief. His own heartbeat pounded erratically, so loud he was sure Sekai could hear it, but he didn’t dare to move. Not when Sekai seemed so at peace.

Eventually, Sekai lifted his head again, his expression collected, though softer than before. He picked up his pencil and tapped it lightly against the open book. “We should start. Enough distractions.”

Taiki nodded quickly, cheeks flushed, and leaned forward over the workbook.

But no matter how he tried to focus, his eyes kept wandering.

To Sekai’s bobbed hair, now fluffy and uneven after drying. To his low voice as he explained equations with quiet precision. To the loose collar of his oversized shirt, slipping ever so slightly to reveal the elegant line of his collarbone. To the way his sweatpants rested too low on his hips, casual and careless, nothing like the perfectly pressed uniforms he wore at school.

Taiki’s mind spun with thoughts he couldn’t admit, the words crowding inside his head. He’s actually… handsome. More than handsome. If he didn’t style his hair like that, if he didn’t hide behind glasses and a too-neat uniform, everyone would see it. His scary face just hides how he really looks.

Sekai’s eyes flicked toward him suddenly, narrowing slightly. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but it’s definitely not the question in front of you. Focus.”

Taiki jolted, heat rushing up his neck. “I—I am focusing!”

“Really? Then tell me the answer to question three,” Sekai challenged.

Taiki sputtered, glaring at the page as though the numbers had just betrayed him. “U-uh… um…”

Sekai’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, his pencil tapping against the book. “Exactly what I thought. Focus, idiot.”

Taiki huffed, puffing his cheeks like a sulking child, but he bent over the page anyway, muttering under his breath. “You’re so irritating…”

Yet despite his grumbling, his chest still throbbed with warmth, his eyes still stole glances whenever Sekai wasn’t looking, and no matter how many equations they scribbled through, Taiki’s thoughts never truly left the senior beside him.

The evening dragged on. Their books and notes lay scattered on the low table, evidence of hours of study. Sekai was perched neatly, as always, pencil twirling lazily between his fingers as he finished explaining yet another long-winded concept. Taiki, who had been uncharacteristically attentive, leaned forward on his elbows, chewing his lower lip in concentration.

But then, just as Sekai straightened up and reached for a sheet of paper, ready to scrawl down one of his infamous “quizzes,” Taiki suddenly blurted out—

“If I get all of the questions right… can I do something to you?”

Sekai froze, mid-motion, and slowly turned his head to give Taiki the kind of look that could wither anyone else alive. “...Excuse me?” His voice was flat, suspicious. “Do something to me? What the hell are you plotting this time, Taiki?”

Taiki immediately flushed crimson, his hands flying up in defense. “N-no, not like that! Don’t make it sound weird, Senpai!” He squirmed in his seat, puffing his cheeks before mumbling the actual request. “...I want to see another hairstyle on you.”

There was a beat of silence. Sekai’s expression was blank for a long moment. Then, in a low incredulous voice, he said, “...What?”

Taiki fidgeted, refusing to meet his eyes. “Your hair… that bob thing… I hate it. I mean—! Not hate hate, but… it hides your face! You’d look way better if you just changed it. Like… seriously.”

Sekai’s brows twitched, his lips pressing together. Finally, he set his pencil down with a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell have you been thinking about these past hours? All this time while I’m trying to teach you, you were planning a damn haircut?”

Taiki leaned forward, hands pressed together as though begging. “Because it’s true! Your face is so sharp and cool, but the bob just… I don’t know, makes you look like some old anime nerd from the 90s. Please, Senpai. I really want to see you with a different hairstyle, just once!”

Sekai narrowed his eyes. His suspicion lingered, but eventually, he leaned back, arms crossed. “You’re ridiculous. But fine.”

Taiki’s head shot up instantly, eyes sparkling like stars. “Really?! You’ll do it?!”

“On one condition,” Sekai interjected, holding up a finger. “You get every single question correct. Not one mistake. If you slip up even once, I’m not touching a single strand of hair. Understand?”

Taiki slammed his fists on the table, determination radiating from him. “OKAYYYY! I’ll do it! I’ll get them all right, just watch me!” His eyes burned with such intensity that Sekai actually chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

“You’re suddenly this motivated over my hair?” he muttered, scribbling down the quiz. “Unbelievable.”

The next twenty minutes were unlike any study session they had shared. Taiki was laser-focused, eyes locked on Sekai’s every word, his ears straining to catch every detail. He nodded vigorously, repeated formulas under his breath, even scribbled little notes in the margins of his paper. Sekai glanced up from his writing once and smirked at the sight, unable to resist a quiet chuckle.

“So this is what it takes to make you concentrate, huh? A haircut.”

“Shut up!” Taiki barked back without looking up, cheeks burning. “Just teach me properly!”

When Sekai finally handed him the quiz sheet, Taiki snatched it up like a warrior preparing for battle. He bent low over the paper, pencil gripped tightly, and attacked the questions with a seriousness that startled even himself. His tongue peeked slightly from between his lips as he scribbled down numbers and explanations, muttering under his breath. Time passed in silence save for the scratch of pencil against paper and the faint sound of rain outside.

At last, Taiki pushed the paper across the table, sitting back with a triumphant grin plastered across his face. “Done!”

Sekai picked it up calmly, his sharp eyes scanning each answer with meticulous care. He hummed, made small notes in the margins, his lips occasionally quirking when he came across something that surprised him. Taiki sat on the edge of his seat, fidgeting nervously, watching every flick of his senpai’s pen.

Finally, Sekai set the paper down with a long exhale. “...You got them all correct.”

The room erupted with Taiki’s joy. “YESSSSS! I DID IT! TAKE THAT, SENPAI!” He bounced around the table in victory, his grin wide enough to split his face.

Sekai, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose again, his tone exasperated. “What, do you need me as motivation every time? Is that it? Should I threaten to cut my hair before every quiz so you actually study properly?”

Taiki stopped mid-bounce, his cheeks igniting with red. “Th-that’s not it! Don’t twist it like that!” He huffed loudly, crossing his arms, though the smile refused to leave his lips. “I just… wanted to see it, that’s all…”

Sekai smirked faintly, leaning back on his palms. “You’re unbelievable.”

Still glowing from victory, Taiki clapped his hands together and announced, “Tomorrow! Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? Let’s go out and get your hair cut then!”

Sekai let out a long sigh, clearly regretting agreeing to this deal in the first place. “Whatever you say. But if I regret it, I’m blaming you.”

Taiki’s grin widened until his cheeks hurt. “Deal! I can’t wait to see how you look!” He practically vibrated with excitement, his mind already spinning wild images of Sekai looking cooler, sharper, and handsomer than anyone at school.

They returned to studying more after that, though Taiki’s focus wavered badly now that his mission was successful. The room dimmed as the hours passed, the sun giving way to the soft orange glow of evening. By the time Sekai finally set his pen down, it was already 7 PM.

“I should go home,” Taiki admitted, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

Sekai nodded, standing to help him pack. “Yeah. You’ll probably get in trouble if you’re out too late.”

They moved together around the table, stacking books, sliding papers into folders. Sekai’s efficiency contrasted with Taiki’s fumbling hands, which only grew clumsier the closer they stood together. By the time everything was neatly bundled, Taiki’s chest was thudding again.

At the entrance, Taiki slipped on his shoes, glancing up at Sekai one last time. His throat tightened as he murmured, “Thank you for the clothes. Thank you... For everything today, Senpai.”

Sekai’s expression softened, his lips curving into a genuine smile, warm and fleeting. He gave a small nod. “You did well today, Taiki.”

The sight was almost too much. Taiki’s face heated violently, and in his panic to escape, he spun too quickly—only to smack right into the closed door with a loud thud.

“Ow!” he yelped, clutching his forehead. His ears burned bright red.

Sekai blinked once, then immediately slipped back into his usual sharp smirk. “Idiot. Can’t even figure out how to open a door, and you want to lecture me about haircuts?”

Taiki whirled around, face still red, glaring furiously. “S-shut up! It was an accident!”

Sekai chuckled, his arms crossing casually. “Sure. Walk straight into another door tomorrow too, why don’t you?”

Taiki huffed, puffing his cheeks like a sulky child again. “Ugh, you’re impossible!” He yanked the door open this time with exaggerated force, stomping out.

But before he walked away, he glanced back just once—at Sekai’s silhouette framed in the warm light of the doorway, that faint smile still tugging at the corner of his lips.

And as Taiki walked down the street toward home, his heart beat fast and restless, his mind unable to stop replaying every little thing.

Sunlight of Saturday seeped through the curtains of Taiki’s bedroom. The boy stood before his wardrobe, staring at the rows of shirts and sweaters as if he were about to face the greatest decision of his life. His fingers hovered indecisively over each option before he finally pulled out his fluffiest sweater, the pale fabric warm and soft under his hands. He paired it with straight-cut jeans that looked casual yet neat, then slung a small crossbody bag over his shoulder. Standing before the mirror, he adjusted his collar, leaned back, and smiled stupidly at his own reflection.

“…Why do I look like I’m going on a date?” he muttered to himself, cheeks heating up as he shook his head and swatted the thought away. He forced his grin down into something more neutral, scolding his own reflection, before finally slipping on his sneakers and heading out of the door, heart beating a little too fast.

When he reached Sekai’s place and rang the bell, the anticipation in his chest made him straighten up. The door opened with a creak, and there stood Sekai—dressed in the most offensively otaku fashion imaginable. His oversized T-shirt bore a print of lewd anime girls in suggestive poses, paired with baggy jeans that swallowed his legs. His hair had fallen back into its bob, framing his face in the exact style Taiki despised, and to make matters worse, thick, outdated glasses sat on his nose. On top of his head, he wore an anime-themed hat, and on his back was a massive black backpack that could have been stuffed with every doujinshi known to man.

Taiki’s jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed in horror and disappointment as he stared at Sekai from head to toe. Finally, his lips curled, and he snapped, “...Are you going to Comiket or what?!”

Sekai blinked, genuinely confused. “Huh? What are you so angry about? This is how I usually dress.”

Taiki let out a loud, suffering sigh, dragging his hand down his face. “Unbelievable. Just—just unbelievable.” He stepped closer, pointing an accusing finger at Sekai’s chest. “Sekai-senpai, listen. After we cut your hair today, I’m buying you new pants. And clothes. Especially clothes.”

“What?! Wait a second—” Sekai started to argue, brows furrowing.

“No buts!” Taiki cut him off, his voice firm and eyes blazing. “You think I can walk beside you looking like that? Do you want people to think I’m escorting some lost weirdo otaku uncle around town?”

Sekai’s jaw dropped, and he puffed his cheeks in an uncharacteristically childish pout. “That’s mean!”

Taiki crossed his arms with a sharp huff, his sweater sleeves puffing out around him. “It’s called honesty. Just trust me.” His tone left no room for argument.

Sekai clicked his tongue, grumbling under his breath, but he eventually closed the door behind him, slinging his oversized backpack more securely. The two finally set off, Taiki leading the way with firm steps, Sekai trailing with his shoulders slumped like a scolded child.

When they arrived at Taiki’s usual barber, the little shop bell jingled above the door. The place was cozy, smelling faintly of shampoo and aftershave. Taiki greeted the staff warmly, his familiarity with the place immediately showing.

“Good afternoon, Takahiro-san!” he chirped before gesturing at Sekai, who looked incredibly out of place. “I brought… this guy. Please give him a haircut.”

The barber, Takahiro, raised his brows and grinned. “Oh? And what kind of cut are we talking about?”

Without hesitation, Taiki pointed and declared, “Short wolf cut. Make it sharp, please.”

Sekai whipped his head around in disbelief, his bob bouncing as he sputtered, “Wait, hold on—why do you get to decide?! It’s my hair!”

Taiki shot him a look so fierce that Sekai immediately stiffened. “Because your fashion sense can’t be trusted. Now shut up and sit down.”

Takahiro chuckled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “My, my, Taiki-kun. You sound like a bossy little wife.” He leaned on the counter and teased further, “Is this your boyfriend?”

Taiki’s face instantly turned scarlet. “Wh-what?! No! Of course not!” He waved his arms frantically, stumbling over his words.

Sekai also turned faintly pink, scratching the back of his neck with forced nonchalance. “Don’t just say weird stuff, old man.”

Still smirking, Takahiro gestured Sekai toward the chair, and with much grumbling, Sekai plopped down. Taiki sat on the sofa nearby, pulling out his phone, though his eyes flicked up every few seconds to watch the process. The sound of scissors snipping and the low hum of clippers filled the room. Sekai sat with his usual stoicism, though every now and then he shot a glare at Taiki through the mirror as if silently accusing him of this suffering. Taiki only grinned smugly and pretended to scroll through his feed.

Time passed, and finally Takahiro stepped back, dusting off the loose strands of hair. Sekai ran a hand through his newly trimmed locks, looking a little unsure, before standing and turning toward the sofa. “...Taiki.”

Taiki lifted his head from his phone, and the moment his eyes landed on Sekai, his breath caught in his throat. His heart gave a violent thump. The bob was gone, replaced by layered, tousled strands that framed his face with effortless sharpness. Without the thick glasses, his features stood out even more, his dark eyes bright, his jawline stronger, his whole presence somehow transformed from awkward otaku to dangerously handsome.

Taiki’s face flamed instantly, his words catching. “Ah…”

Sekai shifted uncomfortably under his stare, his own cheeks faintly pink. “...Does it look bad?” He rubbed the back of his neck, then nervously combed his fingers upward through his new cut, styling it instinctively.

Taiki scrambled to his feet, shaking his head frantically. “No, no! It looks… good. Way better than I expected.”

Sekai blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Really?”

Taiki found himself smiling helplessly, the corners of his mouth soft. “Yeah. It… suits you.”

The air between them grew warm, sweet, almost fragile, their gazes lingering on each other. Then Takahiro cleared his throat loudly and broke the moment. “Sorry to disturb you lovebirds, but you forgot your glasses.” He winked as he held them out.

Taiki squeaked, his ears glowing red, but he didn’t bother correcting the man. He grabbed the glasses, muttered a quick “thanks,” and all but shoved the payment at the cashier. Takahiro winked again as he handed the change back. “Have a good date, Taiki-kun.”

Sekai, now blushing faintly, put his glasses back on. The thick lenses immediately ruined the sharp image Taiki had been savoring, and he sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Are your eyes really that bad? Those glasses look like something out of a bargain bin.”

Sekai raised a brow, adjusting the frame casually. “No, my eyes are fine. These are just reading glasses. Combined with sun protection and blue filter.”

Taiki stared at him as if he’d just committed a crime. “There are tons of stylish models for that! We’re buying you one now. No arguments.”

“What?!” Sekai’s eyes widened, but before he could object further, Taiki grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the barber’s shop.

Sekai stumbled after him, his huge backpack bouncing awkwardly, while Taiki stormed ahead with his face still flushed, determined. “Honestly, Senpai,” he muttered under his breath, “if I don’t fix you, who will…”

And so, hand-in-hand, the two stepped into the weekend crowd, one sulking, the other fuming but oddly giddy, their new chapter already unfolding with every step.

They commuted for a while and went to the mall. The place was crowded with weekend chatter, neon signs glowing above store entrances, the scent of fried snacks mixing with perfume drifting from cosmetic counters. Taiki walked ahead with determined steps, dragging Sekai along by the wrist like a mother dragging a misbehaving child.

When they entered a clothing store, Taiki’s eyes immediately lit up, scanning racks of neatly folded shirts and rows of pants. He dove into the aisles like a hunter spotting prey, pulling one shirt after another, pressing them against Sekai’s torso, squinting, frowning, tossing it aside, then trying another.

“Raise your arms,” Taiki ordered firmly as he shoved a white button-up against Sekai’s chest.

Sekai yawned loudly, not moving at all. “Why? It’s not like I’m going to try them on right now.”

“Just—shut up and hold still!” Taiki snapped, holding a plaid shirt against him and stepping back. He tilted his head critically. “Hmm. Not bad. Definitely better than your… whatever that was earlier. Ugh, that shirt with lewd anime girls still haunts me.”

Sekai tilted his head, utterly unfazed. “What’s wrong with it? That shirt was limited edition.”

“Exactly what’s wrong with it!” Taiki pressed a dark jacket against him now, pursing his lips. “You’re hopeless.”

Sekai stayed silent, expression calm, though his eyes occasionally softened when Taiki leaned in close, fussing over collars or tugging at sleeves like a meticulous stylist. He let the boy circle around him, pile clothes in his arms, and mutter criticisms under his breath. Every so often Sekai even suppressed a smile, though he masked it with another exaggerated yawn.

By the time Taiki was satisfied, the pile of clothes towered precariously in his arms. They marched to the cashier, Taiki ready to dig into his wallet when Sekai suddenly stepped in front, blocking him with a broad shoulder. Sekai set the clothes down on the counter with one large hand and slid his own wallet out with the other.

“Sekai-senpai!” Taiki protested, tugging on his sleeve. “I said I’d pay—”

“You said you’d pay for the haircut,” Sekai corrected smoothly, tapping his card. “You never said you’d pay for an entire wardrobe.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Sekai said, echoing Taiki’s own words from earlier with a slight smirk. “You’re the one who forced me into this, so I’ll handle it.”

Taiki puffed his cheeks in frustration but let out a little huff, folding his arms. “Fine. But at least wear one of them right away. Don’t even think of carrying them home in a bag.”

Sekai raised a brow but sighed. “Alright, alright. You’re the boss today.”

He disappeared into the fitting room with the bag of new clothes. Taiki tapped his foot impatiently, scrolling on his phone for distraction, though his chest tightened strangely with anticipation. A few minutes later, the curtain slid aside, and Sekai stepped out.

Gone was the bob framed around his face, gone the thick glasses that weighed down his features, gone the cartoonish otaku getup. Instead, Sekai stood tall in a fitted white tank top under an open black plaid shirt, the sleeves casually rolled. His dark jeans hugged his long legs, and a pair of sleek new glasses sat neatly on his nose. His hat was gone, his messy hair styled naturally, and even the way he held his massive old backpack had changed—held casually in one hand instead of hunched on his back.

Taiki’s breath left him in an audible gasp. His eyes widened, his mouth parted, and heat rushed to his cheeks as he stared shamelessly. It was like looking at a completely different person. Not an awkward senpai buried in otaku fashion, but a model who could walk straight into a magazine shoot.

Sekai chuckled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with a faintly shy expression. “Yeah, I saw myself in the mirror just now… and honestly, I couldn’t even believe it was me.”

Taiki blinked rapidly, trying to snap out of his daze. “Y-you…” He gulped, finally blurting out, “You just need to style better, you… you hopeless otaku!”

Sekai raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. “Otaku, huh? That’s the thanks I get for letting you bully me into all this?”

“Yes!” Taiki shot back immediately, folding his arms, though his face remained bright red. “I’m the one saving your image, don’t you dare complain.”

Their bickering grew louder, sharp words bouncing back and forth as Sekai teased with his calm, deep tone while Taiki huffed with indignant fire. Staff members behind the counter began exchanging weary glances, clearly annoyed at the commotion.

Taiki noticed, his face heating further, and he immediately grabbed Sekai by the wrist. “Come on, let’s go before they kick us out for being too noisy!”

Still laughing under his breath, Sekai let himself be dragged out of the store.

Once they got out from the mall, their pace slowed. Neither had planned what came next, so the silence stretched between them until Sekai cleared his throat. His voice softened, losing the teasing edge. “…Want to grab dinner together?”

Taiki blinked, surprised at the sudden invitation. His heart skipped before he nodded, trying to sound casual. “Sure.”

They ended up at a casual ramen chain, slipping into a booth by the window. The aroma of broth and grilled pork filled the air, the chatter of other diners humming around them. Steam rose from their bowls as they settled in, chopsticks clicking softly.

Sekai leaned back slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at Taiki across the table. “Yesterday, I told you about my family. What about yours?”

Taiki froze with noodles halfway to his lips, then lowered his chopsticks slowly. “My family? Well… I guess it’s pretty normal compared to yours. I’ve got a little brother. My parents both work a lot, so they’re barely home. We don’t really have that dramatic of a story.”

Sekai’s eyes didn’t waver. He listened intently, nodding slightly as if every word mattered. “Do you ever feel lonely?”

Taiki toyed with his chopsticks, swirling them in the broth. “…Sometimes. But I’ve got my friends, and… I guess I got used to it.” He smiled faintly. “Besides, my little brother is pretty noisy, so the house never feels too empty.”

Sekai gave a soft hum, his gaze warm, lingering. “I see. That sounds… nice, in its own way.”

They fell into comfortable conversation, exchanging stories while the steam fogged the edges of their glasses. Taiki found himself laughing more easily, while Sekai’s low chuckles vibrated across the table like a gentle rhythm. The ramen bowls slowly emptied, the shop’s noise fading into the background as they leaned closer, lost in each other’s company.

For the first time, neither of them thought about tutoring or tests. It was just them, slurping noodles, trading stories, and letting the warmth of the evening soak into their hearts.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

After the train ride going home, they finally arrived in front of Taiki’s house. The small, neat building stood modestly among the other homes, its porch light glowing softly, welcoming. Taiki shifted nervously, one hand on the strap of his crossbody bag, the other rubbing against the seam of his jeans as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

Sekai, standing tall beside him, tilted his head curiously, eyes running over the house before glancing back at Taiki. “So this is your place,” he said with a small smile, his deep voice low in the quiet street.

Taiki nodded, lips curling in a tiny, sheepish smile. “Yeah… it’s nothing special. Just… home.” His tone carried a little embarrassment, as though his ordinary house might somehow pale compared to whatever Sekai might have imagined.

Sekai chuckled softly and then, with the air of someone suddenly realizing something, he blinked at Taiki and spoke without much thought. “Wait, so this is just one train away from mine? That’s… actually really close.”

Taiki tilted his head, surprised at the warmth in Sekai’s tone. “Yeah, I guess so,” he answered lightly, but when he turned his head, Sekai’s expression stopped him in his tracks.

Sekai wasn’t laughing—his brows were slightly raised, his lips parted in a small, almost childlike smile, and then he murmured, almost to himself, “Why am I so happy our houses are close?”

The words hung in the cool air like a spark. Taiki’s eyes widened, and immediately a soft pink crept over his cheeks, spreading down his neck. Sekai realized what he had said a beat too late, and his own face flushed faintly, his big hand lifting to scratch at his hair in an effort to cover his embarrassment. Neither of them dared to move for a moment, the silence suddenly thick with the sound of their hearts.

Taiki looked down, huffed a little laugh through his nose, and tried to shake it off. “You say the weirdest things sometimes, Senpai,” he murmured, but his voice was gentle, and his smile betrayed that he was secretly pleased.

Sekai chuckled awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah… maybe I do.”

They stood like that, side by side in front of the door, reluctant to let the night end. Finally, Taiki shifted slightly and broke the quiet. “Um… thank you for today.” His voice carried a mixture of shyness and sincerity. “Really. It was… fun.”

Sekai’s eyes softened, the corners crinkling with the warmth of his smile. “No, I should be the one thanking you,” he said honestly, his tone low and steady. “Because you... really changed my appearance for the better. I felt like people were staring at me during our date.” He glanced down at himself with a small, self-conscious laugh.

Taiki’s laughter rang quietly. “That’s because you actually look good, Senpai. More than good. You looked…” he paused, biting his lip as his cheeks heated further, “…handsome.”

Sekai blinked, the word sinking in, his chest tightening strangely. He opened his mouth to say something back, but Taiki’s expression shifted suddenly, his brow furrowing.

“Wait,” Taiki said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Did you just call it a… date?”

Sekai froze, every muscle in his body tensing, and his hand shot up to scratch his neck again, the gesture betraying his nerves. “Ah… I—sorry, that just slipped out,” he muttered, his voice low, awkward. His gaze dropped to the ground, unable to meet Taiki’s eyes.

But Taiki shook his head quickly, cutting him off before he could retreat into more apologies. “No… don’t apologize.” His voice was soft but firm, and when Sekai finally looked at him again, Taiki was smiling shyly, his eyes glimmering under the streetlight.

“Because… it really was a date. We bought things together, we ate together, we talked…” Taiki hesitated, his words coming slower now, but steady. “That’s what a date is, right?”

Sekai’s breath caught in his throat. For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the air thick with everything neither of them had said yet. Slowly, Sekai’s lips curved into a smile—hesitant, but growing warmer by the second. “Yeah,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “You’re right… it was.”

They both laughed softly.

Finally, Sekai let out a little sigh, stepping back slightly as if trying to gather the courage to leave. “Well… I guess I should let you rest. Good night, Taiki.” He turned slightly, preparing to walk away, but something inside Taiki jolted. His heart thudded in his chest, and before his thoughts could catch up, his body moved on its own.

“Wait.”

Sekai paused, turning back in surprise. Taiki’s hands lifted hesitantly, trembling a little, before settling gently against Sekai’s face. The warmth of his palms against Sekai’s skin was startling for both of them. Taiki leaned in just enough, his lips brushing softly against Sekai’s cheek in the barest ghost of a kiss.

“Be safe. Text me when you get home. Good night, Senpai.”

Taiki’s voice was a whisper, almost lost in the night.

Face burning, Taiki pulled back immediately, his hands dropping as if they’d been burned. Without daring to look at Sekai’s reaction, he turned and hurried to unlock the door, disappearing inside in a fluster of movements, leaving the door clicking shut behind him.

Sekai stood frozen in place, the world around him oddly still, his skin tingling where Taiki’s lips had touched. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed it over his cheek, a sheepish smile spread across his lips.

“Taiki…” he murmured under his breath, his voice warm and trembling with quiet joy. He stood there for another long moment before finally turning on his heel to head home, his chest lighter than the night air around him.

The weeks that followed after that evening were sweet. Neither of them dared to put words to what had happened, but it lingered in the air. They returned to their routines as though nothing had changed, yet everything had. The way they moved around each other, the way their eyes lingered a fraction too long, the way silence between them no longer felt heavy but full.

Sekai continued tutoring Taiki as always, notebooks spread out on the rooftop table or across the secluded corners of the library (they finally allowed Taiki to get into library after some persuasion, thank god). The wind would sometimes tousle Sekai’s freshly styled hair. His glasses were now slim, stylish frames chosen by Taiki. Even his uniform had shifted, gone was the rigidity. Now he wore it with an effortless looseness, his tie loosened slightly, shirt untucked just at the right edge.

It was enough to make Taiki glance at him again and again, thinking to himself that this was a version of Sekai no one else had seen before.

Taiki’s influence was obvious, and he knew it. Sometimes, when Sekai tilted his head, letting his fringe fall just right, Taiki would puff out his cheeks and say with mock pride, “See? That’s my work.”

Sekai would raise an eyebrow, smirking faintly. “You’re taking credit for me existing now?”

But at the end of their sessions, the playful teasing softened into something more sweet. Every time Taiki had to leave, he would gather his books nervously, then pause, his hands trembling slightly. With a determined breath, he would step close, his cheeks flushed, and press a light kiss to Sekai’s cheek.

“Thank you for teaching me, Senpai,” Taiki would murmur, his voice sweet every time.

Sekai never pulled away. At first, his eyes widened in surprise, his shoulders stiffening at the contact. But as the days passed, he grew used to it, even leaned into it faintly without realizing. The warmth of Taiki’s lips against his skin left him with a quiet, lingering smile as he watched the younger boy walk away.

One afternoon, laughter and chatter filled Taiki’s classroom as he joked with Yusei and Keito, his bright smile lighting up his face. Suddenly, the door slid open, and silence dropped over the room.

Sekai stepped inside.

He didn’t look like the rigid, intimidating upperclassman everyone remembered. His tall frame loomed over, his uniform styled, his black hair neatly shaped into that sharp wolf cut. His stylish glasses glinting. With each step, his presence seemed larger. The girls near the window gasped softly, their whispers rising. Even the boys straightened in their seats, taken aback.

Sekai’s eyes found Taiki immediately. He strode past the rows of desks. He stopped right before Taiki’s desk and dropped a notebook onto it with a dull thud.

“You forgot this,” Sekai said flatly, though his lips quirked ever so slightly. “What kind of student forgets the notebook they’re supposed to study with?”

Taiki blinked up at him, unfazed, already used to the sight that had silenced the room. He huffed. “Well, maybe if my tutor didn’t assign so much, I wouldn’t forget it.”

The class watched in stunned silence as Taiki casually bickered back at the stylish but still intimidating senpai.

Sekai rolled his eyes, his voice lowering. “Excuses, excuses. Be grateful I even bothered to bring it to you.”

Taiki smiled in coquettish style, trying to mock him. “Thank you, senpai.”

Sekai knew Taiki was mocking him, but he blushed anyway. He huffed and turned away sharply, adjusting his glasses. “Idiot.” He left without another word, the room turned into hushed whispers as the door closed behind him.

Taiki was about to continue his joke with Yusei when Yusei leaned closer, eyes wide. “Taiki-kun, what the hell happened to that scary guy? He looks like he walked out of a magazine shoot!”

Keito leaned over his desk too, nodding seriously. “No kidding. Did you see how everyone stared? He’s like… a completely different person.”

Taiki puffed his cheeks, crossing his arms with a huff. “That’s because I fixed him. His hair, his clothes, even his glasses. All me.”

Yusei and Keito exchanged glances, then identical grins spread across their faces. “So… you’re telling us you gave him a makeover?” Yusei teased, his voice dripping with implication. “And you’re not… into him?”

Taiki nearly choked. “Wha—! Of course not!” His hands waved frantically, but his face betrayed him with its deepening blush. He lowered his voice, muttering, “I mean… I kissed him a few times…”

The words slipped before he realized it. Yusei and Keito froze, their jaws dropping in perfect unison before they lunged at him, grabbing his shoulders.

“YOU WHAT?!” they shouted together, shaking him so hard his bag nearly fell off the desk.

Taiki’s face burned crimson as he tried to push them off. “Stop it! That’s all I’m saying! I’m not telling you anything else!” He ducked his head, burying his face into his arms, but the grin tugging at his lips refused to be hidden.

Days passed, and as Sekai’s presence changed, so did the way the school treated him. People who had once avoided him now tried to get closer, drawn to his striking looks. Girls giggled when he walked by. Boys tried to make conversations with him, eager to be acknowledged. Sekai accepted it all with polite detachment, but Taiki noticed the way his phone buzzed with new messages, the way people lingered near him longer than before.

One afternoon, as they leaned against the rooftop railing, Taiki nudged Sekai with his elbow. “You’re pretty popular now, Sekai-senpai. Everyone is chasing after you.”

Sekai glanced at him, puzzled. “So?”

Taiki narrowed his eyes, his lips pursed in a mock pout. “So? It’s annoying. What if someone steals you away?” His words were meant to be playful, but the jealousy slipped through, coloring his tone.

Sekai blinked, taken aback, then his lips curved into the faintest smile. He grabbed Taiki’s face casually and kissed his cheek.

Taiki’s eyes widened, his face exploding in heat. Taiki did kiss Sekai many times now, but it was the first time Sekai kissed him.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m like this because of you. If you weren’t around me, I wouldn’t bother with any of it.” Sekai’s voice was warm and steady near his ear.

Taiki’s brain stopped thinking and he didn’t know what to say. He just stared stupidly at Sekai with open mouth and unfocused eyes.

Sekai chuckled, adjusting his glasses, though the tips of his ears were red. “Idiot.”

Taiki somehow sobered up, and glaring at him. “You just kissed this idiot.” But the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his words.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

The last stretch of the semester arrived.

For Taiki, it felt like the weight of the entire world sat squarely on his shoulders. Failure wasn’t just an embarrassment here—it meant expulsion from the prestigious school he had worked so hard to enter. His hands trembled when he tried to hold his pen, his mind clouding with “what ifs”.

Sekai, who had been watching him more closely than Taiki realized, noticed immediately. They were tucked into their usual secluded spot on the rooftop, books spread between them, when Sekai reached out instinctively. His long fingers slid gently into Taiki’s hair, stroking it with care. Taiki’s head jerked up in surprise, eyes wide.

“Stop making that face,” Sekai muttered, his thumb brushing briefly against Taiki’s temple before resting on his crown. His voice was softer than usual, almost coaxing. “You’ve worked hard, you’re smarter than you think, and you’re not going to fail. So quit worrying.”

Taiki blinked rapidly, his face burning hotter with every word. “W-why are you suddenly saying things like that?”

Sekai’s lips tugged up into a smirk. “What, am I not allowed to encourage my troublesome student?” Then, unable to resist the sight of Taiki’s cheeks glowing red, he leaned forward and pinched one of them lightly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Taiki swatted at his hand, stammering, “You’re so annoying!” but he didn’t really mean it, and Sekai’s quiet chuckle told him his protest had failed to convince.

The next day, the tension in the classroom was suffocating. Taiki’s heart hammered in his chest as he flipped open the test booklet, but then he remembered Sekai’s hand in his hair, Sekai’s voice telling him he wouldn’t fail. He took a deep breath, and slowly, his thoughts steadied. The answers came easier than expected, his pen moving faster. By the time he put his pen down, his chest heaved with relief.

As soon as the bell rang, Taiki bolted out of the classroom, his feet carrying him straight to the third-year wing. He had to tell Sekai. But when he slid open the door of Sekai’s classroom, his excitement faltered.

Sekai was standing near the windows, his tall frame cornered by a small group of girls. They leaned in close, their giggles rising as they tried to capture his attention. One of them brushed her hair behind her ear, another clutched a notebook nervously as if asking for help. Sekai’s face, however, was full of irritation—his jaw tight, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed faintly as though begging for rescue.

And then he saw Taiki.

In an instant, the annoyance melted from his features. His dark eyes lit up, smiled so genuine it startled the girls around him.

Sekai didn’t hesitate. He stepped away from them, his long stride carrying him directly to Taiki.

“Hey,” Sekai greeted. “What’s up? Wanna have lunch together?” The eagerness in his tone made it clear he’d been desperate to get away.

Taiki blinked, then nodded quickly, suppressing a grin as he glanced at the confused faces of the girls behind him. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The two slipped out, leaving behind a trail of whispers.

In the canteen, they found a quiet corner by the window. Taiki leaned forward eagerly, eyes shining. “I just wanted to tell you... I think I did really well on the exam today.”

Sekai unwrapped a piece of bread he had grabbed from the counter, biting into it before speaking. “Of course you did. What, you thought all my tutoring was useless?”

Taiki puffed his cheeks, glaring. “That’s not what I said! I just… I wanted to tell you.”

Sekai’s lips curved into that familiar teasing smirk. “You’re basically bragging to your teacher. Should I be proud or annoyed?”

“You should be grateful I’m even telling you!” Taiki shot back, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed his irritation. After a pause, he tilted his head. “How about you? How was your exam?”

Sekai leaned back in his chair, his tone annoyingly smug. “Easy.”

Taiki huffed, shaking his head, though a chuckle escaped him. “Figures. You’re so arrogant sometimes.”

“Not arrogant. Just honest,” Sekai replied smoothly as he took another bite of bread.

Taiki’s eyes lingered on him for a moment. On the way his jaw moved as he chewed, on the faint crumb that clung to the corner of his mouth. Sekai caught the stare, arching an eyebrow. “What’s with that look? Do I have something on my face?”

“N-No! I was just… um…” Taiki’s words trailed off before he swallowed, gathering courage. “If I pass this test… will you grant me another wish?”

Sekai snorted. “Another one? You already forced me to cut my hair, change my glasses, change my clothes. What else do you want from me?” He leaned in slightly, his eyes went gentler. “But… if you need that kind of motivation to do well, I’ll listen.”

Taiki’s lips pressed together nervously before he whispered, “…I want to see you dance.”

Sekai froze. His half-eaten bread hovered in his hand as his eyes widened slightly. “…Dance?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving.

Taiki nodded, his eyes serious, though his face was still red. “Yes. Just a simple one. You don’t have to do anything big. I… I want to see you dance.”

Sekai set the bread down slowly, his gaze drifting away as though looking into a memory he had locked away. “…It’s been years,” he murmured. “Six, maybe more. I don’t even know if I can do it anymore.” His fingers curled slightly against the table, betraying the hesitation he couldn’t hide.

Taiki leaned closer, his voice soft but insistent. “It’s okay. I’ll be there for you. I really want to see you dance, Sekai-senpai. Please.”

For a long moment, Sekai was silent, the noise of the canteen filling the space between them. Finally, he let out a slow sigh, his eyes returning to Taiki’s earnest face. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “…Alright. If you didn’t fail all your exams, every single class, then I’ll do it.”

Taiki’s face lit up instantly, his smile so wide and radiant it made Sekai’s chest ache. “Really? You promise?”

Sekai chuckled softly, reaching out to flick Taiki’s forehead. “Don’t get too excited. You still have to pass first.”

Taiki rubbed his forehead with a pout, but his grin refused to fade. “I’ll pass. Just you wait.”

Sekai shook his head, watching the boy’s determination shine brighter than ever.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Two weeks passed in a blur of anxious waiting, and when the results finally came out, Taiki felt his heart hammering so hard it nearly leapt out of his chest.

Taiki clutched the stack of returned tests against his chest, hugging them tightly as if they were his lifeline. “I did it…” he whispered breathlessly to himself, his lips curling into the widest, purest smile. His cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes glittering like a child who had just been given the best present. He quickly arranged all the papers in a neat stack, making sure the scores peeked through, and with trembling fingers, snapped a picture. His heart beat faster as he typed a message.

Sato Taiki: I passed all of them, Senpai!!!

He pressed send, staring at the screen with nervous excitement. It didn’t even take long before the reply came.

Yamamoto Sekai: Oh my god.

Taiki chuckled so loudly a few classmates looked his way. He grinned, typing back quickly.

Sato Taiki: What? That’s all you can say?
Yamamoto Sekai: Do you want me to throw a festival?
Sato Taiki: Yes, actually. A whole festival, just for me.
Yamamoto Sekai: You’re so full of yourself. But… congrats, Taiki. You did well.
Sato Taiki: Hehe, I’ll accept the congratulations. But don’t forget!! Tou promised me something!!!
Yamamoto Sekai: Tch… I knew you wouldn’t forget.

Taiki laughed, clutching his phone to his chest, his heart warm. He could almost picture Sekai’s face, frowning while trying to hide his smile.

When the school day ended, the long-awaited promise hovered between them. Taiki was practically buzzing, while Sekai dragged his feet, grumbling. He refused outright when Taiki suggested the rooftop or a quiet hallway.

“No way,” Sekai muttered, adjusting his glasses with a firm push. “I’m not letting anyone from school see me like that. Not happening.”

Taiki pouted, puffing his cheeks. “But why? Don’t you want people to see you dance? You’d be so cool!”

Sekai turned his gaze away, expression hard. “I don’t need anyone else to see. If I’m going to do it… it’s only for you.” His voice softened, almost embarrassed.

Taiki blinked, his chest tightening, and then sighed with a small smile. “Fine, fine. Let’s go somewhere else. How about the park near the station? There’s not many people there after school.”

Sekai considered it for a moment before finally nodding. “That’s… acceptable.”

The park was calm that afternoon. A few children ran around laughing near the swings, their carefree voices filling the air, but the bench Taiki chose was tucked away beneath the shade of a tall tree.

He sat down, hands on his knees, looking up expectantly. “Alright, Sekai-senpai. Show me.”

Sekai stood in front of him, shifting his weight uncomfortably. His hands fidgeted at his sides, his brows furrowed. He looked every bit the opposite of the confident, stylish figure Taiki was used to.

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Sekai muttered at last, his voice low. “It’s been years. I haven’t danced since then. And…” He exhaled, pressing his palms against his face, hiding his expression.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Dancing makes me remember my mom…”

The confession hung heavy in the air. Taiki’s eyes widened, his chest aching as he quickly stood and reached out. He cupped Sekai’s face with both hands, gently pulling it away from where he hid. “Sekai-senpai…” His voice was tender, filled with care. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Sekai’s eyes flickered with raw emotion, silence swallowed them for a while. Then, Taiki’s hands slipped from his cheeks to his shoulders. He gave a soft, encouraging squeeze and then stepped back just a little, planting his feet.

“Then…” Taiki said with a gentle smile, lifting his right foot slightly and moving it in a simple step. “Let’s start small. Just follow me, okay? Nothing fancy. Just a simple step.”

Sekai blinked at him, confused, but Taiki grinned and repeated the step, rocking side to side. “See? It’s not scary. Dancing isn’t scary. And… I think your mom, from heaven… She would want to see you dance again. She’d be proud, Senpai.”

The words melted the last of Sekai’s resistance. His chest felt tight, but this time, not from fear.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he mirrored Taiki’s step. Awkward at first, his movements stiff, but as Taiki smiled and encouraged him with little nods, the rhythm started to return to his body. His shoulders loosened, his legs remembered, his breath aligned with the beat.

Taiki’s hands slowly let go of Sekai’s shoulders, giving him space. “That’s it… you’re doing it.”

Sekai drew in a sharp breath, rolled his shoulders back, and let his body fall into rhythm. This time, he didn’t hold back.

His sneakers tapped against the ground with precision, his arms slicing cleanly through the air as his torso twisted, and bent with flow. Every beat inside his head translated into motion. His hands moved with the crisp angles of popping, his hips locked and released, his chest pulsed forward and back in a controlled ripple. The once awkward stiffness melted into pure genius.

Taiki sat down again slowly on the bench, unable to tear his eyes away. His mouth parted in astonishment.

Sekai was breathtaking.

Each move had the weight of muscle memory woken from slumber. It wasn’t just skill, it was soul, pouring out of him in every wave, every glide of his body.

The children who had been playing nearby slowed, their laughter dimming as they turned to watch the tall young man dancing with such raw passion. Even they seemed captivated, but for Taiki, it was more than captivation. His chest ached with a strange, overwhelming warmth.

This was Sekai—his senpai, his teacher, his protector, the boy who had scolded and teased him, the one who let him change his appearance and brought color back to his days. And now, in this moment, Sekai was something even greater: a genius who had buried his gift, now digging it up again before Taiki’s very eyes.

Sweat beaded on Sekai’s temple. His glasses nearly slipped, but he pushed them back in one seamless motion and carried on.

Finally, after one last sharp chest pop followed by a smooth glide that made it look as though his feet barely touched the earth, Sekai came to a halt. His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths, sweat glistening against his skin. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and exhaled roughly.

Taiki was already standing before he even realized it, drawn forward by something he couldn’t resist. His eyes sparkled like stars as he approached.

“Sekai-senpai…” his voice trembled with awe, a little breathless. “That was… amazing. Really… I don’t even have words.” His face glowed with sincerity, his smile wide and unrestrained. “You’re incredible. I knew you’d be good, but that… that was on a whole different level. You’re… a genius.”

Sekai froze, caught off guard, the flush of exertion deepening into something else. His lips parted slightly, and for the first time in years, he looked genuinely shy. He turned his face slightly, as though trying to escape the intensity of Taiki’s praise.

“Don’t… don’t exaggerate,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

But Taiki didn’t stop. His excitement bubbled over, spilling from him in waves. “I’m not exaggerating! Senpai, you were brilliant! Every move was so clean, so sharp… it was like watching someone on stage. I couldn’t even blink, I didn’t want to miss a single thing!” His words tumbled one after another, glowing with honesty, his whole body trembling with admiration.

Sekai let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, but his gaze softened. He looked down at Taiki, really looked, and the reflection in those bright eyes made something inside him ache. Slowly, almost instinctively, he lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles gently against Taiki’s cheek. The touch was tender, almost reverent. His voice came out low, husky from dancing but also from the emotion that welled up.

“My mom…” he said quietly, “she would always praise me after I danced. No matter how small the move, she’d smile and tell me I was amazing. The way you’re looking at me right now… it feels like that again. Like she’s here. Like… you’re giving me the same warmth.”

Taiki’s breath caught. His lips parted as he looked up into Sekai’s eyes, wide and shimmering. His heart pounded so loudly he thought it might burst. Gathering every ounce of courage he had, he whispered, “Sekai-san… if I say I want to see you dance forever… would you do it for me?”

The park grew quiet around them, as if holding its breath. Even the children had gone back to their games, leaving the two of them in their own small, sacred world. Sekai stared down at him, his dark eyes unreadable, silence stretching between them. And then, at last, his lips curved into the gentlest smile Taiki had ever seen.

“If it’s for you,” Sekai murmured, his voice soft and full of meaning, “then I’ve found a reason to dance again.”

Taiki’s face flamed scarlet, but his lips pulled into a shy, radiant smile that matched the pounding of his heart. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to shout into the air. Sekai’s words echoed inside him, filling every corner of his chest.

And then, before Taiki could say anything more, Sekai leaned down. It was deliberate, inevitable.

Their lips met, warm and electric, sealing the space between them.

Taiki’s eyes widened in shock at first, his breath hitching, but the tenderness of the kiss soon melted his surprise. His trembling hands rose almost instinctively, pressing lightly against Sekai’s chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath.

Sekai’s hand slid to cradle Taiki’s cheek, his thumb stroking softly against flushed skin as he deepened the kiss. Their breaths tangled, their closeness overwhelming, yet comforting. Taiki let his eyes flutter shut, surrendering to the warmth, the safety, the exhilaration of Sekai’s lips on his.

When they finally broke apart, both panting lightly, Taiki’s chest rose and fell with a trembling rhythm. His courage wavered, but he forced the words out, voice shaking but determined.

“I… I like you, Senpai.”

Sekai stared at him for a moment, and then he smiled. Soft, real, disarming. He even chuckled lightly, the sound low and warm in Taiki’s ears. “Taiki… I let you kiss my cheek for weeks. I kissed your lips just now. Why do you still look afraid that I don’t like you back?”

Taiki puffed his cheeks, huffing loudly. “It’s called being nervous!!!” His voice cracked with embarrassment, and he quickly looked away, ears burning red.

Sekai threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich, full, and unrestrained. It reverberated in Taiki’s chest, making his heart leap. Sekai leaned in again, brushing their foreheads together for a moment before stealing another kiss. This one was short, sweet, playful. When he pulled back, his eyes glimmered, and he murmured with a crooked grin.

“I like you too, idiot.”

Taiki’s heart nearly stopped. His lips curled into the brightest smile, his hands clutching at Sekai’s shirt like he never wanted to let go. They both laughed softly then, the tension melting away. Sekai wrapped his arms firmly around Taiki, pulling him close into a warm embrace. Taiki buried his face into Sekai’s chest, inhaling the faint scent of cologne mixed with sweat, and held him just as tightly.

From that moment on, they were no longer just senpai and kouhai, not just tutor and student. They were two souls who had stumbled into each other’s lives at the exact moment they needed it most. Sekai helped Taiki through the labyrinth of academics, never letting him falter even when anxiety tried to pull him under. Taiki, in turn, helped Sekai rediscover the confidence and joy of dancing, coaxing the genius inside him back into the light.

They teased, they argued, they laughed, they kissed. They helped each other grow, not only in studies or in talent, but in heart. In their own clumsy, awkward, and sweet way, they became each other’s strength, each other’s reason to move forward.

END