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Daydreamer

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A street light shines down in the late evening, creating a pool of hazy light on a patch of pavement, like a spotlight waiting for its star. More distant, the coloured lights of Asakusa paint a backdrop like a fairyland, a suggestion of a place.

Enta imagines Kazuki standing in that spotlight, smiling with the same soft brilliance as its light.

‘Everything’s so beautiful,’ he would say, gesturing to the surrounding lights but eyes on Enta. Enta would step closer, wanting to see from the same perspective as Kazuki and Kazuki would wrap an am around his waist.

‘Beautiful,’ Enta would echo, and then, daringly, ‘like you.’

Kazuki would look startled for a moment, but only a moment, and then he’d understand. He’d pull Enta closer while Enta stood on tiptoes, and Kazuki would kiss fierce and earnest, the way he puts his whole self into everything he does. Enta would be so nervous as his lips parted under Kazuki’s and it would take him a moment to kiss back.

...and then Tooi intrudes on Enta’s thoughts, Tooi watching them from the shadows, not even upset, just a little wistful. Happy, even, with all that sweetness Enta didn’t want to acknowledge in his eyes, his way of always putting his own feelings last.

It would probably be Kazuki who put that soft shadow across his expession, but Enta’s the one dreaming. So Enta would pull away, with a blushing smile at Kazuki to let him know he liked the kiss, that he’s happy.

‘What are you doing back there?’ he would ask Tooi, and reach out a hand. Tooi would pull away, shrug, about to say it’s fine or that he’s leaving, and Enta would pull him into the light anyway.

‘You should try it too,’ Enta would say and, damn, that would be a really stupid thing to say. Tooi would look at him like he was stupid, but at least it would be better than wistfulness.

Tooi would say, ‘What, do you just kiss everyone?’

‘Only people I like,’ Enta would say back. He’d put his hands on Tooi’s shoulders, waiting to see if he pulled away, and when he didn’t Enta would cup the back of his head, the buzzcut Tooi has now rough under his fingers.

It would be nothing like kissing Kazuki. Tooi would be blushing, more nervous even than Enta, and trying to hide it, trying to be tough. So Enta would kiss him softly, and when Tooi kissed back it would be equally soft. Tooi would wrap his arms around Enta, muscles hard against Enta’s back, so strong but so tentative, and Enta would stand on tiptoe and kiss deeper, feeling the warmth of Tooi’s mouth, of Tooi.

Enta is standing under a streetlamp, face burning, and he can’t stop smiling.