scrapped ‪arakao 7 days au

[yalla]

at the height of my arakao insanity 2k21 i was spitting out works in progress like it was a full time job, not thinking about anything other than the euphoria of arakao. at this point i hadn’t actually read any stories aside from like. operetta and starfes i think (naru foundational texts to ME) and maybe ressun. so it was a very very cursory understanding of canon which is why i gravitated toward aus.. which is rlly just arakao in general like girl they still haven’t spoken to each other since operetta and it was retconned. what about ME. anyway so after getting more into the actual text i lost interest in this au and i’d never really been Huge on it to begin with (kinda not into basing works On a narrative so much as basing them on a narrative’s setting or skeleton). so i had to let her go…. there were a few nice bits but in general i feel like you can tell i didn’t rlly give a fuck about the story so much as i wanted to write longing and arashi and kaoru were my favorite barbie dolls at the time of writing. last edit was in august of 2022!!! based very obviously and heavily on tachibana venio’s bl series “seven days”

warning: it’s over 8k words.

Monday.

Kaoru sighs loudly, maybe more of a groan than anything else. Class will be boring today, as usual, and then he’ll go to club if he’s feeling good, and then he’ll practice with Undead because they have a show this weekend. It’s a day like any other. He sighs again.

"Don't sigh like that, it doesn't suit your face," Izumi says from beside him, for the umpteenth time. Kaoru laughs, a sound that cements his statement. "You’re wasting your looks when you do stuff like that.”

"Look who's talking," he shoots back. Izumi laughs.

"I’m a model," he says. “I think that’s far from a waste.” He rests his head on his desk, which is covered in scrapes and initials from probably everyone in their class, because when he tells people off for it, it’s less intimidating and more humorous. He meets Kaoru’s eyes.

"There's a reason you get dumped so fast."

Ouch. "Well, it’s not like it’s my fault they ask me out without getting to know me first."

"You know their expectations and you don’t ever tell them otherwise," Izumi says, just a hint of that familiar edge creeping into his voice. These days he wouldn't ever hurt Kaoru intentionally, but he does like to bring him down to earth every once in a while.

"What expectations?" Kaoru asks. "Everyone knows I’m a dangerous man."

Izumi snorts. "Say that next time you get asked out. Since you're single again."

Word gets around fast in a school like this. He got dumped yesterday. The girl probably didn't care to keep it a secret. "Maybe," he concedes, sighing as he leans against the wall. He has developed something of a playboy image over the years, but it’s not like he’s trying to lean into it. It’s just something that happens. He’ll date a girl for a bit, maybe a week or two or even three, and then something shifts. He doesn’t know what it is, changes in the air or something, but it all ends the same way: in a breakup.

Izumi looks for a moment that he might want to hug him or slap him upside the head, opposite sides of the sliding spectrum of his moods, and Kaoru plans a route of escape. Chiaki strolls through the classroom before anything can happen, whistling a cheery tune. "Morning!” he says—announces, really. “What are you two doing?"

"Homework," Izumi says.

Chiaki laughs and drapes an arm around Kaoru's neck when he gets close enough. "What about you, Hakaze?" he asks.

Kaoru half-heartedly attempts to shrug him off but doesn't succeed. "Don't get so close, Moricchi."

"No homework? No plans?”

"Not really."

"What day is it, anyway?" Izumi asks, lazily opening up one of his textbooks and scribbling something in the margins.

"Monday," Chiaki says, nudging Kaoru aside. He continues, "I heard some girls talking about confessing."

"Naru-kun would look good with anyone," Izumi allows.

Chiaki gives him a sunny smile. Kaoru leans back in his chair, looking at the false ceiling. A fly crawls across a panel in record time.

Of course, the two of them are talking about Arashi Narukami. She’s a grade below them. When she first came to this school, she immediately garnered a fan following—something about being a model for a clothing line that Kaoru had never heard of but that Izumi couldn’t help being impressed about. It didn’t take long for Izumi to hit it off with her, at least, but Kaoru still knows next to nothing about her, other than her popularity.

It’s not hard to figure out why she’s so well-liked. Aside from her charming good looks—some sort of princeliness about her even though she is undeniably feminine—she’s easygoing and polite to everyone. Girls love that kind of character, and it’s almost a rite of passage for the first-year boys to at least consider asking her out. While not a heartbreaker by any means, Narukami has probably gone through as many short-term partners as Kaoru has. Under different circumstances, but the similarity is there.

"If one of them confesses, she’ll accept them, and then she’s gonna break up with them on Sunday, right?" Kaoru asks.

Chiaki hums, sticking his head out of the open window of their classroom. "Three makes the pattern, right? She’s way past three. I say yeah."

Izumi stares at nothing in silence, blue eyes thoughtful. Chiaki sighs loudly and it almost makes him jump. Kaoru laughs and Izumi only frowns.

"Sena, didn't you date her for a week? Tell us what happened," Chiaki says.

Izumi presses his lips in a pout. "That's embarrassing." Of course it would be. It’s weird thinking about even dating a close friend. It’s like if Kaoru were to go out with—well, he’d rather not think of going out with a guy.

“Don’t force him, Moricchi.”

"We all have our moments, Sena," Chiaki says breezily. Between the two of them, Kaoru wonders who's the most childish. Probably Izumi, though Kaoru would rather die before admitting it in front of Chiaki.

Izumi rolls his eyes, tugging on the collar of his uniform. "I mean, it wasn't a big deal. I just wanted to try it out. She would always talk about her date of the week." His desk creaks when he leans on it. "Naru-kun is a really nice person, honestly."

"Was it fun?" Kaoru keeps his voice even.

"Yeah? I guess you could call it that." Izumi tilts his head in thought. "She always does the breaking up, you know.” Unlike you is left unsaid because Izumi knows where the line is drawn, and Kaoru is thankful.

It would be impossible not to know about the ins and outs of her relationships, the way word goes around in this school, but Kaoru only intones a syllable of assent. Short-term relationships are something he makes it his business to know about. A week of playing doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.

"It was fun? That’s great praise, coming from you!" Chiaki says, turning to Izumi. He bumps his head against the edge of the window in his excitement and starts rubbing the injury before a lump can form. “Sena, you never say that about anyone.”

Izumi scowls at him. “Anyway. Kao-kun, I thought you would know more about her, being the busybody you are.”

"Oh, you injure me.” Kaoru sighs dramatically. “We don’t talk, is all. Everything I know about Narukami is from you or the grapevine, and we know neither of those is all that reliable.”

“Why you—”

“Can we order a pizza or something?” Chiaki says, either unaware or too aware of the fact that Izumi could probably kill Kaoru if he really wanted to.

“What’s with the subject change?” Izumi clicks his tongue, but he pulls out his phone anyway and starts dialing the number. They all order it often enough that they know the menu by heart. The pizza place is a few blocks away, so it won’t be long, which is very convenient for hungry high schoolers craving sustenance. “Hi, yes, could I get a pizza?”

"Put pineapples all over it," Chiaki whispers.

"Combo with everything but pineapples, thank you," Izumi says.

“You are a cruel man,” Kaoru says, leaning back in his chair.

Izumi ignores that comment. He covers the receiver and asks Kaoru, “Do you want anything?”

“Mango smoothie,” Chiaki says.

“Didn’t ask you, dumbass.”

“I don’t need anything,” Kaoru says.

Izumi clicks his tongue dramatically. “Combo without the pineapples, and a mango smoothie,” he relays to the pizza person. A pause. “Izumi Sena. Okay, yeah, I’ll be there.” He gets off the phone and Chiaki laughs.

“Thanks for the smoothie,” Chiaki says brightly.

“Whatever. You can pay me back later.” They all know Chiaki will forget, and Izumi won’t bother remembering. “Kao-kun, go run down and fetch it for us.”

“Me?” Kaoru wants to argue that he’s not even getting anything special, so why should he have to go down and pick it up? But Izumi stands up and fairly pushes him out of the classroom.

“Bye,” he says, and closes the door.

That guy. Whatever. It’s a pain to walk halfway down the hill and then back up again, but it’s not anything major. Kaoru greets some acquaintances on the way down, chats up some girls, makes his way down the hill. Lots of talk about Narukami, and no sight of her, which is unusual—the fact that she hasn’t appeared yet, that is. She usually shows up earlier than this. When she does show up, he wonders who it will be this week. There’s no shortage of potential dates for someone like Arashi Narukami.

He’s crouching in the bit of shade that the vine-covered wall of their school has to offer, waiting for the pizza delivery, when he hears footsteps and then the sound of them stopping.

“Good morning, senpai,” Narukami says. Even on a Monday, she looks fresh and bright, bleached hair perfect as always. “What brings you down today?”

“Good morning, Narukami. Senacchi sent me to pick up pizza.”

“Ah, Izumi-chan.” She smiles knowingly. “So even you aren’t immune?”

“Kind of hard to be, when he’s so pushy.”

Narukami laughs. “That’s Izumi-chan for you,” she says, and Kaoru won’t even ask how close they have to be for her to talk so casually about him. He vaguely remembers something about them being under the same modeling company, but it’s like all his knowledge of her has evaporated.

"Is it true that you'll date anyone who asks you out on Monday?" he asks instead.

Narukami leans against the wall, taking a breather even though everyone knows she’s more sturdy than she looks. Kaoru follows the line of her form. It makes sense that she does model work. "Within reason, naturally," Narukami says, voice lilting. "They’d have to be a student, first off. Older folks are nice to look at, but not much for romance, you know.”

Kaoru scoffs. "Obviously." He fixes his eyes on a sprout poking out of a thin crack in the asphalt. "But you don't have a type?"

"If they’re not a bad person, it’s all fine." She doesn't answer the question. For a fleeting instant, a moment that grips him by the neck, Kaoru wonders what it would be like to date Arashi Narukami. Seven days of playing at love.

"What about me?" he asks, pointing to himself.

She laughs. “You’re attractive, senpai,” she says, and he won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good.

“How about going out with me, then?”

Just for a split second, he thinks that air about her falters, so brief he’s not sure if he just imagined it.

"Just kidding,” he amends with a smile.

Maybe she doesn’t hear it, but Narukami says nothing, straightening up when she sees a white car with a pizza logo approach. "I think it's for you."

Sure enough, the guy in the car rolls down the windows and asks, "Large combo and a mango smoothie for an Izumi Sena?"

Kaoru raises his hand. "That's me." The guy says the total and Kaoru nods. He shuffles around in his pockets for some cash and realizes he left his wallet in the classroom. And good-for-nothing Izumi didn’t hand him anything, either. “Shit.”

Before he can do anything about it, Narukami goes to the driver, hands some bills to him, and takes the food with a smile. “Here you go. Thank you.” As the driver heads back down the hill, Narukami turns to Kaoru.

“Narukami, you really didn’t have to,” he starts, but she only shrugs and starts up the hill, pizza and smoothie in hand.

“It’s no big deal, senpai.”

“I’ll pay you back when I get my wallet back,” he promises, because it’s a bad look for anyone to get treated by their underclassman, and Kaoru is all about keeping up appearances.

She hums. “Mm. You’re in the classroom across from mine, right?”

“That’s right.” He only knows it because it’s always so rowdy over there, because of her. Izumi always complains about it.

“We can walk together, then,” she says. Kaoru can’t do anything about it because she has the food, so he just follows her. She’s actually not as talkative as he had thought—or, she is, but she doesn’t talk about herself unless prompted. Narukami asks him the questions (usual niceties like club activities and what he does in his free time) and seems content to only add to the conversation as long as it’s not about her. They bump into a few students and it’s the same with them. Kaoru thinks that the most mysterious of people are the ones that can convince others of their transparency.

“And here we are,” Narukami says, halting in front of his classroom doorway. Izumi has barely moved, while Chiaki might be eight places at once, never one to settle in anything. Narukami peeks into the room and Kaoru quickly takes the food from her, trying to block Izumi before they can make eye contact. “Thank you, let me get my wallet and pay you back,” he whispers, but it’s too late. Izumi stands up and shakes his head with a laugh.

“Forcing an underclassman to pay for you, Kao-kun? You’re terrible.”

“I did it on my own,” Narukami explains.

Izumi raises an eyebrow. Kaoru is certain there’s something here that he has no place in. Izumi and Narukami stare at each other for a moment before Narukami laughs and turns back to Kaoru. “You don’t have to pay me back, Hakaze-senpai. Just give me your number and we’ll call it even, okay?”

That doesn’t strike Kaoru as even at all, but he concedes. No harm in giving out his number to a girl. Kaoru recites it as Narukami punches the numbers into her phone, and he fumbles at least thrice. Not because he doesn’t know his own number, but because he’s acutely aware of Izumi’s eyes on his head. Makes him feel like a prey animal in the sights of a hunter.

“I’ll talk to you sometime, senpai,” Narukami says with a slightly crooked smile, and Kaoru can’t help but be charmed, a little. He wonders if this means he’s the date of the week. It’s a nice thought, a love—or a like, at least—with no strings attached to it.

Narukami goes back to her own classroom and then Izumi pounces on Kaoru. “What’s going on with you two?” he says. “Don’t tell me—”

“She gave me her number, big deal,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes, even though he swears he can feel his phone buzzing in his hand already. “I’ll keep you posted, yeah?”

“I don’t care that much,” Izumi says, but his eyes will not move from Kaoru’s phone for an instant.

“You’re cute, Senacchi.” That brings pink into Izumi’s cheeks. “Are you looking out for me, or Narukami-chan?”

“Neither.” Both, Kaoru thinks that means. Before he can say anything about it, Chiaki plucks the mango smoothie out of his hands, and then it’s like class starts out of nowhere and ends in a flash.







[He practices with Undead after school
They talk about his romantic conquests or whatever and he doesn’t tell them about arashi bc he doesn’t think anything is actually happening. Smth smth group dynamics with him and undead
Arashi texts him in the evening like sorry i didn’t text you earlier!! I had a photoshoot. Actually can i call you
And then they call and there’s like stipulations and guidelines or whatever. Don’t see other people during the week arashi will always call him in the morning (wouldn’t it be pleasant to wake up to my gorgeous voice~~) and such like that. He goes to bed and he’s like okay (neutral). Let’s see how this goes]







Tuesday.

“Hah?”

“No need to be so loud about it,” Kaoru says.

Izumi looks at him with a frown so sour it could spoil milk. “So yesterday with Naru-kun?”

“Yesterday with Naru-kun,” Kaoru confirms.

“Ugh.” Izumi groans, moans, and frankly looks like he’s gonna make himself physically sick until Chiaki shows up with his usual cheery grin.

“What’s this about Narukami?” he asks, leaning on Kaoru’s desk.

“Shush.” Izumi reaches over and repeatedly pokes the eraser side of his pencil against Kaoru’s elbow. Kaoru tries to bat him away but he keeps doing it anyway, so Kaoru acquiesces. “Kao-kun is Naru-kun’s date of the week. I should have figured it out after the pizza thing but I thought she was just being nice—”

“Oh ho?”

“You sound like an owl,” Izumi scoffs.

“What brought this on, Hakaze?” Chiaki hops onto Kaoru’s desk and Kaoru leans back by instinct just to look him in the eye, careful that neither of them falls.

Poke poke. Chiaki looks at him expectantly and Kaoru closes his eyes with a shrug. “Can’t a guy be curious every once in a while?”

“A guy like you getting curious is a problem,” Izumi says.

“I think it could be interesting,” Chiaki says. “Like, Hakaze gets dumped super fast and Narukami only does the dumping at the end of the week, you know?”

“Hm. At least it’s time-based.”

“Hasn’t she ever gone longer? Even a little bit?” Kaoru asks.

“You’re not that special, Kao-kun,” Izumi says, jabbing him one last time with the eraser before he decides it’s no fun anymore. Kaoru considers acting hurt or offended by the statement, but it really means nothing to him. “She just doesn’t.”

Good. It’s nice to have a set timeline for the week, instead of acting like it’s all indefinite and everlasting—the lack of pretenses makes it all a lot easier to plan. “Well, where did she usually take you for dates?” Kaoru asks. “So I at least have an idea.”

“God, you clearly don’t pay attention to enough of the gossip.” Izumi clicks his tongue so loudly Kaoru swears it echoes. “The Arashi Narukami Classic is dinner and a movie.”

“Did she take you to a movie?”

Izumi flushes, a little. “No,” he says shortly.

“Oh?” Kaoru raises an eyebrow. “What did you do, Senacchi?”

“Nothing.” Izumi doesn’t get worked up over much at all, and certainly not over nothing, which is how Kaoru knows he should keep probing.

“Where did you go, then?”

“Stop saying it like it’s something dirty,” Izumi snaps. “We went to my house, all right?”

Now it’s Kaoru’s turn to click his tongue. “You sly dog.”

“Like I said, we didn’t do anything.” Izumi waves a hand. “Just video games and stuff like that. Besides, Naru-kun doesn’t do anything like that with anyone unless she really likes them.”

“Narukami strikes me as the type to really like a lot of people.”

“You don’t know her at all, then,” Izumi says, and then looks out the window to signal that the conversation is over and he won’t be entertaining any more questions about Arashi Narukami. So that’s that.






Narukami laughs quietly. She’s always laughing. He likes a girl with a sense of humor, but with Narukami it’s always guesswork as to whether she thinks he’s funny or if she thinks he’s funny. He doesn’t mind it all that much, though.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Kaoru asks, leaning over to her, adjusting his grip on the bus strap just enough to still look nonchalant.

“Who knows?” She fixes him with a look, and for a moment he’s not quite sure if she’s serious, until she laughs again. “Just kidding. Osaka. Is that okay with you, Hakaze-senpai?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Osaka. Dinner and a movie, probably, like Izumi said. He has his wallet on him this time, so he’s prepared for whatever Narukami could throw at him.

“I’m sure Izumi-chan told you everything about the first date,” Narukami says. “I do usually do dinner and a movie, but you probably heard that one too, hm?”

He smiles. “Luckily, I like dinner and movies. Especially when a cute girl’s involved.”

She laughs again, bumping into him lightly, not enough to knock either of them off balance. It’s like they’re the only ones on the train. “No wonder you’re so popular, senpai. I almost felt my heart flutter.”

“Only almost?”

“You’ll have plenty of chances tonight,” she promises.








He remembers bits and pieces of the movie, but none of it stays with him the way Narukami’s scent does. The way she had whispered into his ear.








Wednesday.


“You’re surprisingly chivalrous,” Arashi says. “Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were in Knights. You’re good-looking enough for it.”

Kaoru makes a big show of it, then, bowing the way he learned when he took classical dance, because it feels good to be noticed. Arashi laughs. As the week goes on, he’s placing Arashi’s attention, the sound of her voice, higher and higher on the list of “things that could make life worth living”.

She curtseys neatly and thanks him profusely. He doesn’t miss how her eyes sparkle.

He laughs and holds his arm out to her as they walk outside. “But of course,” he says, can’t resist adding, “I am a gentleman, after all.”

Arashi takes his arm, touch light, but her gaze is weighted like lead when she looks at him with an expression he can’t even begin to parse. “Well,” she says, so soft he almost doesn’t catch it at all, “Gentle, for sure.”







Thursday.

“I want to go to your house,” Arashi says, and Kaoru doesn’t remember Izumi mentioning anything like this. His heart does some silly little hop, skip, jump. A girl in his house. A girl in his house. It feels like a mantra. He struggles to remember if his father is coming home late tonight—if yes, he can prepare dinner on his own and Arashi can stay till nightfall.

“It’s… Thursday, yeah?”

“That’s right.” She tilts her head, bleached hair falling just shy of her eyes. “Is there a problem?”

None at all, he thinks, but he says, “Come at six? I need time to prepare the meal.”

Apparently it strikes her as a very funny thing to say, because she throws her head back and laughs that sunshine laugh of hers. “Oh, you’re amazing, senpai!” It’s impossible for him to feel injured when she says something like that, but he’s definitely a bit bemused.

“Are you that excited for dinner?” he asks mildly.

“Izumi-chan told me you’re a great chef,” Arashi explains. “And now I’m sure you’re a great host, too. I never said anything about eating at your place, senpai.”

“Do you… not want to?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I’d love to. Especially if you’re the one making it.” She reaches out and pats him on the cheek. “But you don’t have to do all that just for little old me, dazzling as I am.”

But I want to. But I want to do all this for you. He’s not sure where it comes from, or if he is willing to be so upfront with her, so he doesn’t say this. “I’ll make chicken,” he says instead. “Chicken and broccoli over rice.”

“I look forward to it,” Arashi says warmly. She hasn’t moved her hand yet. “Text me your address later, okay?” For a second he thinks she might kiss him, doesn’t know if he would be more embarrassed or elated.







The movie is still playing, some corny and comically loud sound effects blasting through the speaker, but he can’t bring himself to look at the screen at all. Arashi is watching it intently, but he’s watching her. Not in a weird way, but she’s just… she’s pretty. She tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear, and his eyes follow the movement without thinking about it. Kaoru discovers that she has a mole behind her jaw, just beneath her earlobe. He’s sure that she doesn’t know about it, the way she only raises an eyebrow when he thoughtlessly reaches for her face.

“You’re gonna miss the movie,” Arashi says without much bite. She doesn’t pause it when she turns to him, either, so he guesses maybe she doesn’t care all that much.

“You have a mole right here,” he murmurs, pressing the tip of his index finger against the dark mark. It doesn’t feel any different from the rest of her skin.

“Do I?” Arashi brings her hand up as if she’s going to search for it. Instead, she rests her hand over his. Something catches in his throat.

“Yeah.” His mouth is dry. Kaoru expects her to say something, eternally silver-tongued, but Arashi looks at him silently, gaze soft in a different way, in a way it rarely is. Light haloes the back of her head like those stained glass windows of Madonna and child. Her hand is warm. It makes him nervous. He fumbles for words, “No one ever told you?”

She giggles. “You’re the first,” she says. She smells good. Like a storm. In his peripheral vision, something flashes on the screen, but it doesn’t matter. Her knee bumps against his and it feels like the strike of a match.

He could kiss her. The mood is right, the cues are there.







“Kaoru-senpai,” Arashi says, reaching for him, and his name in her mouth makes him stop in his tracks. She looks beautiful like this, even in the dark, and finally, he feels the way he’s supposed to.

Kaoru kisses her on the mouth, and then on the neck, trying to pay attention to the catch of her breath. He wonders if he should touch her more. He talks a big game, but he’s never done this with anyone. It’s terrifying to think that maybe Arashi has. Naru-kun doesn’t do anything like that with anyone unless she really likes them. Does she really like him, then?

She has her fingertips pressed to his throat and it makes him feel like he’s choking. Or maybe that’s only when she says, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with” in that casual tone of hers. Kaoru wants to say No, wants to say I need this, but the words die in his mouth. Arashi Narukami laughs and Kaoru knows he could never lie to her even if he wanted to.

He swallows. “Okay,” he chokes out. He gets off her, begins to really feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and rushes out the room to the kitchen sink, running cold water over his clammy hands, splashing his face. Kaoru tries not to think too hard about the mole, the edge of light catching in her hair, the look in her eyes. Something really could have happened. He wanted something to happen. Fuck.

Kaoru rummages through the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, squeezes it till it almost bursts, drinking it as fast as he can. He downs it all in about seven seconds and he’s still thirsty, but maybe in a different way. His heart is pounding so loud and fast he swears he’ll be able to play the drums with no practice and also without the sticks. It’s that bad.

He figures he can’t stay out here forever, so he grabs another bottle for Arashi, hands it to her without a word when he walks back into his room. She looks more at home in his house than he does.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly. He flushes, sits on the ground instead of with her on the bed. She definitely notices but graciously doesn’t bring it up.

He’s looking at the dainty way she takes a sip and then she asks, “What do you do when no one else is around to see it?”

It strikes him as an odd question. What does anyone do without an audience? Without a crowd, all that’s left to do is cry. Kaoru forces out a laugh. “Not much.”

“Nothing at all?” she asks, resting her cheek on the edge of one of his pillows. It’s really driving him crazy, but he leans back and looks at the ceiling fan, his skin prickling with the awareness of proximity.

“You’re a model, right? Would you perform for no one?” It’s unthinkable. Who could he possibly be when there’s no one to watch him? It’s like that thing about the tree falling when there’s no one to hear it. Izumi told him that it would at least create waves that would travel through the air, thus creating technical sound, but Kaoru didn’t buy that. You need a witness to become real.

Arashi sighs. “Hm. I wouldn’t say that I qualify as ‘no one.’” She doesn’t say it with any tone other than the usual light one he’s grown used to, but Kaoru still feels his face heat up with embarrassment—more embarrassment than he has felt all day—and he turns to her.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know you didn’t.” Arashi brushes a strand of hair out of Kaoru’s eyes. “We can just talk, senpai,” she says. “I like talking to you.”

“About what?”

“Anything.” She draws out the word with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Everything. Like your favorite food. Or what you hate the most in a person. Or why you’re so scared of letting anyone close to you.”

“I’m not scared.”

“But you are,” she says in this singsong way that he can’t even try to refute because she’s holding his face in the hollow of her hand and he really wishes she would just kiss him already. He would kiss her again but it felt like he was taking something that didn’t belong to him, like he was just a thief. He wants her to take something from him so they’ll be even. Arashi is looking at him again with that spark in her eyes, and she brushes her thumb along his cheekbone. It takes everything in him just to keep breathing.

“It’s okay,” Arashi murmurs. “I’m scared, too.”

Okay, so it’s true. He’s scared. Every girl he has ever dated has told him that he’s nothing like what they thought he was—nothing like the laid-back, charismatic bassist they had expected. Something about the way he treated them, but he doesn’t know. He treated them the way he figured guys were supposed to treat girls. It’s hard to be a guy. Some guys—like Izumi, like Koga—they cover up with their rough demeanor or pointed words, when underneath it’s all soft flesh. And some guys, like Chiaki or Rei or Kanata or Adonis, are just good all the way down to the marrow in their bones. And then there are guys like him—not good or soft. Sometimes he feels like he’s the wrong kind of guy.

Kaoru doesn’t know how much of this he says aloud, if he says any of it at all. He hasn’t been looking Arashi in the eyes, opting to stare at the silver loop in her ear, or just to the right of the dip in her collarbones. They sit in the silence, and she shifts her hand upward, thumbing along his eyebrow with a tenderness that makes his eyes sting.

“I like you.” Her voice is so quiet it’s hard to tell if the emphasis is on I or you, but it doesn’t matter. “I’m sorry for asking something like that.”

She likes him. It’s dizzying. He can’t bring himself to say it back, not because he doesn’t feel the same way, but because he’s sure he’ll gag from the taste of the words in his mouth. “No, don’t apologize,” he manages, finally making eye contact. He swallows around a lump, feeling like he has painted a target on his own back and she has a quiver full of arrows. But she’s looking at him, and so he goes on, “It just hurts. When they want you to be—when they think you’re—something you’re not.”

“I know.”

He looks away again, back to one of her earrings, because he thinks he might start crying. “Do you? I can’t imagine you not meeting expectations, Narukami,” he jokes, surname slipping out of his mouth like oil. It all comes out too raw because it’s true. She’s not like him.

“It’s a lot more than you’d think,” she says instead of anything else, and he wants to ask when? When does all that shine depart from her? But her hand moves again and she tugs at his earlobe as a chastisement, lightly, nothing meant to hurt. “And I told you to call me Arashi.”

Kaoru swears his heart is skipping beats. “Arashi.” That thick, immobile feeling has returned to his tongue.

“Kaoru-senpai.”

“Not ‘senpai,’” he says on a whim, feeling like he’s a knitted sweater and Arashi is tugging on the single loose thread that can unravel him till he’s nothing at all. “Just Kaoru.”

She tries it out. “Kaoru.” He likes it. He likes it a lot.

Or maybe he just likes Arashi.







Arashi tells him that she wouldn’t mind spending the night, honestly, but between his father and the idea of having a girl in his house, Kaoru doesn’t think he could manage. She’s kidding, anyway, some offhand comment she makes while she’s tying down the french braid in his hair, right before she goes up to grab her coat. “But I don’t want to overstep! Not when you’ve already been so hospitable,” she sings. “So I’ll thank you for the movie and be on my way.”

“It’s not good to walk alone at night,” Kaoru says, going to the door to get his shoes and jacket. Having his hair out of his face like this is unfamiliar, his head not used to the pull of it. “Not when it’s dark like this.” And that’s true, but he doesn’t want her to leave him.

“I could manage,” Arashi insists. “Stay where it’s nice and warm.”

“I want to spend more time with you.” He hadn’t wanted to say it aloud. His face is heating up, which is weird. They’re already dating. Isn’t it normal to want to be with someone you’re dating? But he’s hyper-aware of the braid in his hair and he thinks about how her hands had felt, how she had told him she was scared too. He reaches down to tie his shoelaces and tries not to look at her, blushing furiously. If he saw himself, his ears would be bright red.

A light touch on his shoulder. “That’s sweet. You’re sweet, Kaoru.” Her voice is nothing but sincere. Kaoru fumbles with his shoelaces and with the lock on the door on their way out. He can barely hold his keys.

“I should compliment you more,” Arashi says easily as they walk toward the station, her breath turning to clouds in the cool air. He has no idea when she started holding his hand, but he won’t complain about it. “It’s cute.”

“When I trip over my own feet?”

“When you get nervous.” She squeezes his hand, running her thumb over the knuckles. They’re already at the station. Had the walk always been this short? Her train is already here, too. “But you don’t have to be, you know. Like I said, I’m scared, too.”

Kaoru wonders if he’ll ever understand her fear. It doesn’t seem anything like his, not at all like the cold sunken thing he gets in his stomach. He squeezes her hand back and she’s smiling, eyes twinkling. “Thank you for coming today,” he says.

“Thank you for having me,” Arashi says gently. She hesitates for a moment so brief it’s like time stops, and then presses a kiss to his forehead. There. Now she has taken something from him, even though he would have given it to her in half a heartbeat, and they’re even. She has to stand on her tiptoes to do it, and it makes him feel like he’s falling from a gyro drop high enough and fast enough that when he hits the ground there will be nothing left of him but a splatter. She pats him on the cheek, boards the train. Line of her back straight and facing him. Something about it strikes him as unbearably sad.







Friday.

“Okay, fine,” Arashi says with such finality it almost startles him. “Take me to the ocean, Kaoru.” It always throws him off when she says his name, but he can’t say he doesn’t like how it sounds in her voice.






"Wait, Kaoru," Arashi says.

Kaoru spins around, the tread of his shoes scraping against cement when he does. "What's up?" Her shoulders slump for a second, that knightly air shifting into something illegible.

"I'm—this."

"Something wrong?" A flash of panic clenches his stomach, but he doesn't let it show.

She looks up through her lashes, and everything falls back to how it was. She looks like a knight again. "Oh, nothing, I'm sorry. Stupid thought."

Kaoru holds her gaze for a second too long and then drops it. "Don't say that," he says, and nothing more.

Arashi is, just as Izumi said, a really nice person.
[i think this portion was an outtake of an outtake bc it was bracketed in my doc but who gaf]






The setting sun casts shadows on Arashi’s face, softening her into gentle edges and faded colors. Her dark eyes look more amber the longer Kaoru stares. All that chivalry washed off, she is nothing but a girl painted gold.

"Hey," Kaoru says. "How much of this is real?"

Gold sticks to her eyelashes. Her breath is warm. "As much of it as you want."

Kaoru isn't thinking. The distance between them is a gasp of air. "What if I want to kiss you?" The answer should be no. The response should be a hard look and a cold word.

"Then you may."

Kaoru twists her tie around his wrist twice. He does not lunge forward, nor does he yank. Kaoru leans till their lips meet, stays just long enough to make an imprint in his mind. Narukami’s mouth is soft. Of course it is. When Kaoru draws back from it, there's no proof he was ever there. What happens next? Despite everything, Arashi isn’t a knight. She’s not a prince. Kaoru doubts that someone like him could be, either. Maybe nothing happens next.
[i think this was supposed to be earlier in the week bc initially it was written with them using each others’ surnames. but i couldn’t figure out where i had wanted it so i’m putting it on friday]






Arashi turns to him, uncharacteristically tight around the mouth. Not that he knows her all that well, but he knows himself, and he knows girls, and those two have nothing to do with each other but he gets it. He gets it. She’s upset.







Arashi, Arashi, Arashi. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to read her, the way she
[love an unfinished sentence]







Saturday.

“You have a lady friend, yes?” Rei asks. Kaoru grits his teeth a little, trying to figure out if this A is flat.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you give me a natural A?”

Rei does that, but then Adonis says from behind the drumset, “Narukami. That’s the friend.” Koga starts choking beside him, half-laugh half-cough—maybe closer to three-fourths laugh and one-fourth cough. Kaoru isn’t looking at Rei, but he swears he’s smirking. But more importantly, since when did Adonis make it his business to know who’s going with whom?

Kaoru tightens that string and plucks it again. It sounds better. “How do you know, Adonis-kun?” Arashi doesn’t tell anyone who she’s dating for the week. Kaoru hasn’t told anyone but Izumi and Chiaki, either, and even though Chiaki has loose lips, he’s not the type to remember all that much about relationships.

“School.” Oh, he’s precious, that one. Izumi must have said something or other. Kaoru doesn’t really mind, but Rei’s eyes feel like they’re going to burn a hole into the back of his head.

“Do you have something to say, Rei-kun?” he asks, shooting a glance behind him, toward the keyboard. Rei is messing around and playing some classical piece with the organ synth. Dramatic, much?

“Oh, not a thing,” Rei says. With the background music, he sounds like Dracula. “But you seem lighter in spirit. It’s refreshing. Wouldn’t you say, Puppy? Doesn’t it add a certain je ne sais quoi to the atmosphere?”

Koga mutters something rude under his breath. “Doesn’t matter. He just needs to play his ass off.” Good old Koga.

“And I will,” Kaoru says. “Girl or not.”







It’s always like this when they’re on stage for real. Empty seats are filled and it’s dark and he can’t make out a single face anymore even if he tried. Adrenaline getting into his blood, the lights flashing before and behind his eyes. During a real performance, with all these sights and sounds and voices screaming their names, he can’t trust his brain to know what notes to play—it’s all muscle memory and a hint of instinct. His fingers fly up and down the frets and his other hand is plucking strings like it’s all he was ever made to do. It’s so natural in the zone, which is the hardest place to be because realizing you’re in it makes it that much easier to find yourself launched out without warning. But he can do this one. He glances at Koga to signal that he’ll be doing a few ad-libs, not like they practiced, but they can work with it as long as they know it’s coming.







“Thank you for the show,” Arashi says with one of her most dazzling grins, the one that makes her eyes shine. Kaoru’s breath catches, despite himself. Rei smiles back politely, all tilt of the head and enormous canines. Kaoru is supposed to be greeting their fans with Adonis, making small talk, but he’s looking at Rei and Arashi out of the corner of his eye. And she’s laughing.







“I’ll show up for the next one,” she says warmly, patting his cheek. “Whenever it is.”

“Next month.” Arashi runs a hand through her hair, making it stick up more than sit properly. Kaoru shoves his sweaty hands in his pockets, feeling for lining or lint or change.

“I’ll be there,” she chirps.







“She’s a lovely girl,” Rei says. “Quite lovely. Charming. I would enjoy seeing her again. Do bring her to practice sometime, Kaoru-kun?”

Kaoru shakes his head. He can’t get rid of the image of Arashi and that pearly sheen of glitter and sweat on her neck. “We’ll be over in another day.”

Koga chortles. “You hate the apron string that much, eh?”

“Narukami does that,” Adonis points out quietly. “The week thing.”

“Our resident flirt is doin’ a countdown and everything like he can’t wait to jump ship and try somethin’ else again. Seems to me like he just wants out already—”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Kaoru snaps. Normally, he would just brush it off as Koga being Koga and they would slap each other’s backs to celebrate a great night. This time, his chest is tight and something about the way Koga laughed is getting to him.

Kaoru doesn’t usually lose his cool, and that shows in the way Koga stops, tilts his head, makes himself smaller. If he had dog ears they would be flat on the top of his skull. Adonis rests a hand on Koga’s shoulder but looks at Kaoru with an expression that would be illegible if they didn’t all know each other so well. Rei has the same one on his pale face. It’s something close to bewilderment.

“My bad, Hakaze-senpai,” Koga says meekly. Kaoru’s anger evaporates at the honorific, though there’s still something settled under his skin.

“No—I’m sorry,” Kaoru stammers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Now, now, we’re all wound up, aren’t we?” Rei cuts in with a laugh, easy as ever. He claps one hand on Koga’s and Kaoru’s shoulders and nods at Adonis. “It has been an eventful night. There is something in the air on an evening like this… I’m certain I’ve never seen such a crowd. And as expected of my Undead, you all played wonderfully.”

He’s good at shifting the mood, something magnetic in him. Koga stands straighter again, invisible dog ears perking up. Even that look on Adonis’s face has evened itself out into a soft smile. Rei grips Kaoru’s shoulder. “Kaoru-kun, you oughtn’t to keep a lady waiting. The rest of us will clean up.”

Right. Right. Arashi. One day. Glitter in her hair and eyes. That not-anger is worming its way inside him, though it’s really more of an ache than anything else, tight and heavy. Kaoru bows out awkwardly, bass slung over his shoulder, and mouths an apology to Koga even though he’s certain none of them catch it, Koga included.

Outside, Arashi is sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging her legs. She’s not really looking like anything in particular, but she brightens up visibly when she spots Kaoru and suddenly she looks like the sun. Just as blinding, too. “There you are,” she says, so warmly it makes his whole body feel like it’s on fire.

“Here I am,” Kaoru says. Arashi jumps down and some flecks of glitter catch the light as they fall from her hair. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

She comes up to him and laughs, fixing his hair. It always gets messed up when he gets into the performance, and her hands feel nice in it. Her nails are painted black with violet accents, even though she usually skews toward bright colors. Something about the gesture gets him right in the chest. “It’s nothing,” she says airily, brushing hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear. As if it hasn’t been over an hour since the show technically ended.

“Really,” he insists, looking past her very intently because it’s hard to look at her. Her eyes sparkle in his peripheral vision.

As if reading his mind, Arashi says with a huff, “Fine, it’s not nothing. But I don’t mind waiting for you, Kaoru.” She fiddles with the clip-on earring Rei handed him right before they went on stage, and Kaoru is suddenly struck with the realization that he’ll miss her. After this week is over they’ll both go back to being barely-acquaintances, because Arashi doesn’t hang around her exes unless they’re Izumi, and Kaoru doesn’t know what it means to remain friends with someone you’ve dated. That thing beneath his skin, not anger and not really sadness either—there it is. He’ll miss her.

That doesn’t make it ache less.
[i do not like the way i wrote koga here.]






Sunday.

Arashi calls him at three in the afternoon, not bright and early as usual. At first, he had thought that maybe she considered last night the end, and then he remembered that she always does the formal thing, the Sorry, but thing. He’s not sure how it’s supposed to go, so he braces himself for the fall when she tells him that she wants to go to the beach again. He’s so surprised that he says yes to everything, on autopilot—yes to meeting her at the train station at six, yes to bringing the supplies, yes to all of it. If she had asked him if he loves her he probably would have said yes to that, too, but she didn’t. At least she always makes it a clean break, he recalls some girl saying.

When they get to the beach, Arashi asks him if it’s a good day to surf, just to make sure. It’s not really, not especially. There have been better days and there will be better days, but something about it being Sunday night makes him nod and get himself and his board set up. Something about the way she looks out at the ocean. He feels like she wants him to go out, so he does.

Arashi watches him catch a few waves. When he’s on the water, he can’t see her face clearly. He wipes out more times than he usually would, maybe for that reason. She giggles when he does, at least, wind tousling her bleached hair.

It really isn’t a great day for surfing. It’s not even a good day for a date, he thinks, lying on his board as he drifts back to her, the wind blowing him to shore.

“You could have told me it was a bad day,” Arashi chides. She brought all the beach towels. Kaoru gets out of the water and before he can even ask her to do it, she’s draping one over his head and patting him dry.

Her face is so close to his. He isn’t used to it yet. She towels his head and face dry and all he can do is close his eyes and wonder what she’s thinking. “It’s not that bad,” he says.

Arashi clicks her tongue, Izumi’s favorite method of showing derision, but coming from her it doesn’t seem even slightly mean. “You can tell me things.” She’s been losing that lilt in her voice lately. He doesn’t know if it’s because of him. Something so kind and solemn in her words these last few days. The sun’s on the sea and it’s in her eyes, and it makes him ache.







“Do you want me?” she says, almost laughingly, but there’s an edge he’s never heard in her voice. “All of it?”

He stares at the sand, reciting an endless string of I don’t know to himself. He half-heartedly uses a finger to write his name in the sand and then wipes it out with the long edge of his palm.

“It’s always been a week. One week of fooling around like it’s love.” Arashi turns to him. “But I was serious about you, Kaoru.” Gold washed out of her hair, out of her eyes. Just a girl. A beautiful girl. “I wasn’t playing.”

He had something better to say, earlier, but he can’t remember what it was. “Tomorrow is Monday,” he says, feeling miserable.

She writes something in the sand, too, but lets the waves wash it away instead of scratching it out herself. “Do you want it to end?”

Kaoru is a shard of broken glass waiting for the sea to smooth out his edges. A shape not yet formed. He wants to be ready. He wants to tell her that she’s all he’s ever wanted, that he meant it all, that he doesn’t want it to end. But—

They sit together, caught up in the quiet rush of the waves hitting the shore. Arashi looks out toward the sea, posture soft around the edges. Kaoru wants to nudge their shoulders together. Wants to press his mouth to hers. She had touched him like he meant something, like she saw something in him that even he didn’t know about, like a promise.

“We can end it tonight,” Kaoru says. His throat feels like it’s constricting around a shot-put ball. Looking at Arashi, that same unbearable sadness from Thursday, from Friday, from yesterday, reaches out to him again, and this time he holds onto it. Allows it to ache even though he shouldn’t. He stands up and brushes himself off because he doesn’t know what else he can possibly do. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

“I never thought it was a waste.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye but doesn’t move. “Never.”







Monday.

Kaoru wakes up to his alarm, not a good morning call. Not even a text—well, there is one text, but it’s from Chiaki, asking if he can copy Kaoru’s homework because Sena refuses to do him a solid.

I barely even touched the homework, Kaoru texts back. He goes to the bathroom to take care of business and wash his face, leaving his phone on its charger. When he returns he has seven new messages from Chiaki, and six of them are just crying emojis sent separately. But the last one reads,

How was the week?

Something in his throat clogs up. He pounds something out, deletes it, thinks harder, and finally decides that it’s not worth the trouble.







“Kaoru,” Kanata says at that same steady speed, words like drip-drops of a water faucet. “Do you ‘want’ it?”

Kaoru wants a lot of things. A relationship. A schedule that keeps him busy but not so busy that he can’t spend any time on his hobbies. A billion yen. A high mark on last week’s English test. Someone to love him.

And then, there’s this voice in the back of his mind that goes Arashi Narukami. He doesn’t say anything.

“‘Go.’”

“Whatever happens, Hakaze, I’ll be a shoulder if you need one!” Kaoru smiles, despite himself.

“Thanks, you guys,” he says at last, and then he’s racing to the bus.







He’s waiting at the bottom of the hill, waiting for something to happen, for Arashi to pull through and get here early like she did last week.







“I don’t want it to be over,” Kaoru says. “I want to be with you next week. And the week after that. And the one after that.”

“Kaoru—”

Kaoru strides to her and holds out a hand, like asking for the sun. “Arashi.”

Suddenly, gently. “I want to be with you next week, too,” Arashi says. With each word, it’s like his ribcage opens a little more, till he’s nothing but a heart bared. Like always, he forgets everything he wanted to say, but it doesn’t matter.

One step forward and she takes his hand, interlocking their fingers. Two steps forward and he can see that mole behind her jaw, the pimple she was worrying about on Thursday, the upturned curve of her mouth. Three steps forward and Kaoru’s breath hitches.

There is no fourth step. Arashi settles a hand against the curve of his neck and tilts her head and presses her lips to his. Kaoru’s pulse quickens and he knows she can feel it through his throat, but it’s not like he can help it. She does that to people. To me, he thinks. He’s sweating like crazy.

Arashi pulls away and smiles at him, fussing with his hair, tucking it behind his ear all gentle.

“I like you,” he blurts out. The words still make him want to throw up; they don’t fit in his mouth, the shape of them all wrong. But he can’t help it. “I really like you.”

She laughs and says it back and it sounds like a promise.