A shout, a rippling echo. Chanting and whistles, as the whole world sparks alive. Next to him, Makoto laughs, bright and warm, and without looking, Haruka knows both their eyes are trained on centre, on the only figure who could invoke that kind of laughter as easily as drawing water from a tap. Like child's play, like an arch, raised eyebrow and a light nudge was all it ever took, and never more.
"Responsible, check. Hardworking, check. Hotter than Hoseok's turquoise pot fire, check. You name it," Jimin says, "he's the entire package. I'd tap that too, if I could."
At this, Taehyung protests, albeit a little weakly. "But I came third in that pageant, remember? Last year."
"Yeah," Jimin replies, sticking his tongue out. "For dressing up as a sparkly starfish. That makes you novel with the grandmas, but it doesn't make you cute."
Or: Taehyung's a Spellcaster who really shouldn't be crushing on the strongest Mage in town.